The Villain’s Daughter (30 page)

It was several hours since dinner and she couldn’t recall the last time she’d talked so much. She had told him things about her life that she hadn’t even discussed with Luke or Vita. Lifting her glass, she peered over the rim. ‘How on earth do you do that?’ she said, smiling. ‘How do you get people to tell you all their darkest secrets?’

He grinned back at her. ‘Ah, now that could be my incredible empathy with the female sex or . . .’ He glanced towards the empty bottle on the coffee table. ‘It might just be down to the amount of wine we’ve drunk.’

‘I suspect that’s a tactful way of saying I’ve been boring you to death.’

‘You haven’t been the slightest bit boring.’

Iris hoped that was true. She liked Guy Wilder and didn’t want to be remembered as his most tedious dinner guest ever. ‘Well, I’m going to shut up now. I’ve been droning on about myself all night. Let’s talk about you. How did you come to own the bar for starters?’

But instead of answering her directly, Guy looked at his watch. ‘It’s a long story,’ he said, ‘and it’s getting late. Perhaps we should save that for another night.’

Iris could take a hint when she heard it. Appalled by the thought that she’d outstayed her welcome, she jumped to her feet. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise the time. I should get going.’

‘Hey, where’s the fire?’ he said.

But Iris was already struggling into her coat. Best to make her escape whilst she still had
some
dignity remaining. Anyway, if she didn’t call Vita soon she might not have a bed for the night. There was no way she was returning to Silverstone Heights; the very idea made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

‘I wasn’t suggesting you left,’ he said. ‘In fact, the very opposite. You’re more than welcome to stay here.’

‘Stay here?’ she repeated, staring at him.

‘You’ve got that look on your face again,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry. I may have been lying about not plying you with booze, but the other part was true. I’m not going to try and take advantage. You can have my room and I’ll sleep on the sofa.’

‘I couldn’t do that.’ In case he thought she was turning down the offer - and that wasn’t her intention, she felt safe here, safe and secure - Iris quickly added, ‘I mean, you’ve already done enough for me. I can’t kick you out of your own bed as well. I can take the sofa. I’ll be fine.’

Guy shook his head. ‘I think after what you’ve been through today you need a good night’s sleep in a comfortable bed. Come on. Please stay. No strings attached, I promise. Then tomorrow morning, I’ll come with you to the flat. You can pick up clean clothes and I can make sure there are no unsavoury characters hanging around.’

‘Are you sure?’ Iris said.

‘You want to argue some more?’

Iris smiled. ‘No, I’m prepared to give in gracefully. And thanks, I really appreciate it.’

‘No problem.’ He stood up and stretched his arms. ‘Look, I need to go and check that everything’s okay in the bar. I won’t be long.’

As he headed downstairs, Iris took off her coat, picked up her bag and went over to the window. Guy had pulled the curtains across and she shifted one corner aside. It was quiet now outside with only the occasional person passing by. She took her phone from her bag and turned it on. There was a series of beeps. She frowned as she saw the message saying she had three missed calls. They were all from Luke and the last one was only ten minutes ago.

As she went to ring him back she paused, wondering what to say. If he’d called her mobile, he’d probably called the flat as well and would know she wasn’t there. Was it safe to tell him she was at Vita’s? Perhaps he’d tried there too. For a second she leaned her forehead against the coolness of glass. Her life was too full of secrets and lies. But now, when she was less than sober - and planning on staying the night in another man’s flat - was probably not the moment to start trying to change things.

Luke’s phone rang over six times before he eventually picked up. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said, the irritation clear in his voice. ‘
At last.
Where are you? Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get you all night.’

Iris winced and stared out of the window. ‘Sorry about that. I had my phone turned off.’ The lie that followed slipped instantly out of her mouth. ‘I’ve been for a drink with Alice.’

‘Alice?’ he said.

‘Yes, you know Alice. She works at Tobias Grand & Sons.’ Luke didn’t actually know her at all - he’d barely been near the place since she’d started work there three months ago - but she had mentioned the name occasionally. She felt bad about lying to him, but couldn’t see what else to do. The truth was too complicated and, on the surface, a little too compromising.

‘Oh, right,’ he said.

Then, before he could pursue the dubious matter of her whereabouts, she quickly said: ‘So how are you? How’s it going? Have you got those contracts signed yet?’

There was a brief silence.

Perhaps the connection had been cut. Iris pressed the phone closer to her ear. ‘Luke? Are you still there?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Hold on a sec.’

Iris could hear murmurings in the background - a woman’s voice was saying something, something she couldn’t quite make out.

Then Luke came back on the line and began to speak again. ‘I just wanted to . . . I think we need to . . . erm . . . talk.’

‘Talk?’ Iris repeated blankly.

‘For God’s sake,’ the female voice said clearly. ‘There’s no need to drag it out. Just tell her.’

Iris felt a jolt in her stomach.
Just tell her.
It didn’t take a genius to figure what was coming next. The jolt was followed by a slow sinking sensation. ‘Luke?’

‘I was thinking it might be . . . might be better,’ he said, ‘if we took a break for a while. I’m sorry, but you know how it’s been, babe. I mean . . . well, you know . . . we’ve not exactly . . .’

His excuses petered out into the ether. Iris could hear his embarrassment, or was it shame? Even though it was not completely unexpected, she still felt shocked. ‘You’re with someone else,’ she murmured.

Luke didn’t deny it, although she was sure that he would have tried if the fragrant Jasmine hadn’t been standing at his shoulder. ‘That’s not why,’ he blustered, attempting to justify himself. ‘Even if I hadn’t . . . I mean, it’s not been working, has it? You know it hasn’t. We’ve . . . er . . . grown apart. We both want different things.’

And Iris knew exactly what
he
wanted - a young, ambitious, fun-loving blonde with sexy curves and no emotional hang-ups. No complications. She scowled at her own stupidity. She should have taken more notice of that savvy woman at the party, the one who had warned her about the dangers of all the scheming bitches who worked at Rufus Rigby. Not to mention the fact that she’d failed to follow her own instincts. Hadn’t she had her suspicions? Yes, but she’d pushed them aside, too distracted by what had been happening recently.

Luke cleared his throat. ‘Iris? Are you all right?’

She didn’t reply immediately. What he was saying about the state of their relationship might not be so far off the truth, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it or of letting him off the hook so easily. This was five years of her life he was dismissing with a single cowardly phone call. He deserved to feel guilty for not having the guts to tell her face to face. ‘How long?’ she said coldly.

‘What?’

‘How long has it been going on for? I deserve to know that at least, don’t I?’

He hesitated. ‘Not long.’

Which probably meant months, Iris decided. So why the hell had he kicked up such a fuss about her going to the Christmas party? It had been a last chance gasp perhaps at
trying
to make things work. Or maybe she was being too generous. More likely it had been an opportunity to compare them both side-by-side and decide which one he really wanted. Her stomach gave another heave.

‘Iris?’ he said.

Iris turned off the phone and threw it on the chair. For the moment she had nothing left to say to him. For a while she stood motionless by the window. She felt angry. She felt sad and empty. What she didn’t feel, however, was devastated. In fact, somewhere in the back of her mind there might even be a tiny glimmer of relief. She sighed as her mind skipped over the past twenty-four hours. There should be a law, she thought, as to how many shitty things could happen to a person in a day.

 

It was another fifteen minutes before Guy came back. By then she had helped herself to a brandy and was curled up in the corner of a sofa with her hands around the glass. He saw the expression on her face and frowned.

‘What’s up?’

‘You don’t want to know.’

He sat down beside her. ‘I don’t want to know or you don’t want to tell me?’

‘Both,’ she said. ‘Neither.’ She shook her head. ‘God, I’ve no idea.’

‘Sounds confusing.’

She turned to look at him. His head was tilted to one side and his piercing blue eyes gazed steadily back into hers. Iris took a breath. ‘Seems like I’ve just been dumped. Five years and all I get is a lousy phone call.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘In fact I didn’t even get that.
I
called him.’

‘Are you upset because he’s dumped you or because he was graceless enough to do it over the phone?’

Iris shrugged. She opened her mouth but no words came out. It was perhaps a combination of all the day’s events that finally brought the tears to her eyes.

‘Hey.’ Guy put his arms around her and pulled her close. ‘If it’s any consolation, I think the man’s a fool.’

Iris leaned in against him. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. She could smell the light citrus scent of his aftershave. ‘She’s a blonde,’ she snivelled into his shoulder.

‘I’ve found, on the whole, that blondes are overrated.’

‘You’re just saying that.’

‘Hand on heart,’ he said.

She could sense his smile even though she couldn’t see it. ‘And now you’re laughing at me.’

‘Just trying to cheer you up. I have a sneaking suspicion that, given time, you may get over him.’

Iris lifted the glass and took a large gulp of brandy. What she needed most after Luke’s unceremonious abandonment was to feel desired, to feel desirable. She snuggled closer to Guy. Here, in his arms, she was protected from all the people who wanted to hurt her. It was a good feeling. And then, almost instantly, another thought flashed through her head: one small upward movement of her face and her lips could be touching his . . .

It was almost one o’clock in the morning. Alice Avery had been asleep for over an hour when a sound pierced her troubled dreams, dragging her back to consciousness. She woke with a start, unable to grasp what was happening. Bewildered, she stared into the darkness until her brain eventually registered the ringing of the phone.

She leapt from the bed and ran barefoot into the living room. Calls at this time of day usually meant bad news. Could it be something to do with her mother? With a shaking hand she snatched up the receiver.

‘Yes?’

‘It’s me.’

‘Toby?’ She thought it was him, but his voice sounded odd, kind of hoarse and distant. When he didn’t answer she said his name again. ‘Toby? Is that you?’

This time she heard him take a deep breath. Then a groan travelled down the line. ‘I’m in trouble, babe,’ he said. ‘You’ve got to help me.’

Alice’s heart began to thrash. She gripped the phone tighter to her ear. ‘Oh my God, what’s happened? Where are you?’

But it was only the latter question he answered. ‘Shoreditch,’ he mumbled. ‘Shoreditch High Street. You have to come and pick me up.’ He stopped and she heard a heaving noise. A few seconds passed. Then he said, ‘Please babe, can you do that? Can you do that for me?’

‘Whereabouts?’ she said urgently.

There was another pause as if he was looking around. ‘I’m . . . I’m not far from Belles. The nightclub. Do you know it? Near Bishopsgate.’ He didn’t wait for her to reply. ‘There’s a bus stop about fifty yards away. I’ll be waiting there. You’ll come, won’t you, Alice? Promise me you’ll come.’

She had never heard him sound so desperate. ‘Of course I will. You stay there. I won’t be long.’ Before she could say anything else he’d hung up. ‘Toby?’ But the line was already dead. She thought about calling him back, but that would only waste more time.

Rushing back into the bedroom Alice flung off her pyjamas. She opened a drawer, took out some underwear and put it on. Then she quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper, and pushed her feet into the first pair of shoes she could find. In the hall she paused only to put on her coat and snatch up her keys.

It was cold outside, the snow still coming down. She shivered as she dashed along the slippery drive. The blue Nissan Micra was parked outside the gate, the same place it had been for the last two weeks. She rarely used the car unless it was to take her mother to the doctor or run her round to one of her friends. It was only a short bus ride into the centre of Kellston and from there Alice could easily walk to Tobias Grand & Sons. This saved her the cost of the petrol and the bother of trying to find somewhere to park.

But as she climbed into the Nissan, Alice acknowledged that these were only excuses. In truth, she was just not confident enough. It had taken her four attempts to pass her test and since that achievement over two years ago, she had clocked up fewer than five hundred miles. Heavy traffic made her nervous, as did the bully-boy tactics of the more aggressive London drivers.

She put the keys in the ignition, started the engine and hesitated. Driving during the day was bad enough, but driving at night and in this weather . . . Alice took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to be getting the jitters. Toby was in need of help and she couldn’t let him down. She could do this. She
would
do this.