True Colours (The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 2) (33 page)

‘My sister.  She’s in there.’  I force out the words between gulps.  ‘She’s in her room.  In the bathroom.’

‘Which number?’

‘I don’t know.  And Beefy.  They got Beefy.  I don’t know where he is.’

‘Clive, go and sort out the mess in there.’  Holding me tight with one arm, he motions towards the hotel.  ‘I’ll call Foultons.’

I’m guided to the car, gently lowered into the passenger seat and left for a moment while he makes the call.  And then he crouches next to me.

‘Did he hurt you?’

I shake my head.  ‘I hurt him.’  I fight back another sob.  ‘I bit his hand and kneed him in the bollocks.’

He smiles proudly and smooths my hair.

‘I wouldn’t mess with you.’

I can barely believe he’s so calm, but then it strikes me: no matter how he’s feeling now, he’s playing down the entire situation, trying to keep me under control.  Pushing himself up from his haunches, he reaches across and fastens the seatbelt.

‘I thought we were going to have no drama today.  What happened?’

He crouches back down and watches me, keeping a hand on my arm.  Through more sobs, I tell him everything: from Sara’s phone call to Boyd dragging me out to the car.  He listens to it all, occasionally glancing up the road.

‘Listen.’ He says quietly when I’ve finished.  ‘I need you stay in the apartment for a few days.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m not sure yet.’

I’d like to interrogate him further, but Clive returns, holding an overnight bag in one hand and steadying Sara with the other.

‘There’s no staff around.’  He opens the back door and guides my sister into a seat.  I hear a muffled hiccough.  ‘Should we hang around until they show up?’

‘What are they going to tell us?’ Dan asks.  ‘They won’t put their jobs on the line for the truth.  Let’s just get back to Lambeth.  I need to think.’

***

I slip into a daze during the journey back, aware of Dan checking on me every now and then, of Clive making calls, confirming that Beefy’s been found with nothing more than a mild concussion.  When we finally arrive in the garage, Dan ushers me out of the car and waits with me while Clive does his best to rouse Sara, propping her up as she staggers to the lift.  Upstairs, I insist that I’m fine, certainly fit enough to put my sister to bed in the guest room.  By the time I leave her, she’s snoring like a pig, blissfully unaware of the chaos she’s just caused.  I console myself with the fact that she’ll have one hell of a hangover in the morning.  As far as I’m concerned, she deserves it.

Downstairs, I join the men at the breakfast bar.

‘Are you okay?’  Dan touches me on the back.

‘Fine.’  I let out a jittery breath.

‘We’ll call the police.’  He turns his mobile in his hands.  ‘Boyd’s gone far enough.’  He’s about to say something else when the phone begins to buzz.  He checks the screen, his expression icing over.  From where I’m sitting, I can see it’s an unknown number.

‘Boyd?’ I ask.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Put it on speaker.’

He shakes his head.  ‘If it’s him, you shouldn’t have to listen.’

‘I’m not an idiot, Dan.  I told you not to keep me in the dark.  Now answer it.’

With a sigh, he complies.  Laying the phone on the counter top, he raises an index finger to his lips, warning me to stay silent before he accepts the call.

At first, there’s nothing but the sound of breathing.  My stomach knots.  At last, I hear a voice.  The Scottish lilt is unmistakable.

‘I’m not happy.’

‘And I don’t give a shit,’ Dan growls.  ‘How did you get this number?’

‘I have my ways.  You won’t trace this phone, by the way.  A stolen mobile is a wonderful thing.  Use it once and chuck it in the river.  Is Maya there?’

I cringe at the sound of my name coming from that mouth.

‘No.’  A hand slides across my thigh.  ‘Why are you calling?’

‘I’d just like to make sure we have no outside involvement.’

‘Attempted kidnap is a crime.’

‘If you say so, Mr Foster.’

‘If I say so?  You’ve gone a step too fucking far.’

‘But still … if you know what’s good for you.’

Chewing at his bottom lip, Dan glares at the phone.  In silence, I watch as the flecks of copper seem to glow in his eyes.

‘Are you threatening me?’ he demands slowly.

‘Just giving you some advice.’

‘And I’ll give you some back,’ he snaps.  ‘This has gone far enough, Boyd.  Maya’s not interested.  She’s with me.  Get that into your thick head.’

‘Marry in haste, repent at leisure.’  Boyd laughs.  ‘And that’s some advice for you, Maya.’

Dan’s face floods with confusion.  I can only guess he hasn’t seen the newspaper yet.

‘And anyway,’ Boyd goes on.  ‘It’s not just about Maya any more.  You’ve been poking your nose into every part of my life, dragging up my past, and I don’t like it.  I feel violated, Mr Swanky Pants.  You’ve been playing dirty, trying to destroy me.’

‘You need to be destroyed.’

‘Do you know what he’s been up to now, Maya?’

‘She’s not here.’

Ignoring him, Boyd pushes on.

‘Bribery.  He’s been bribing women to lie about me.’

I turn to Dan, pinning him down with a good glower, wondering what the hell he’s been doing, and when he’s had a chance to do it.  I can only suppose he made a few calls from Bermuda … behind my back.

‘You abused those women.’

‘Really, Daniel.  You shouldn’t believe everything you’re told.  An old soak of an ex-copper isn’t a trustworthy source, believe you me.  And not a single one of those women blabbed.  Doesn’t that tell you something?’

‘That they’re terrified of you.’

‘Or maybe there’s nothing to blab about.’  Boyd pauses, his breath coming fast and heavy.  He’s clearly agitated now.  ‘You need to stop your witch hunt, Mr Foster.  It’s going nowhere. And another thing, you need to leave my friends alone.’

‘You don’t have any friends.’

‘Oh, yes I do.  And you upset them last night, marauding your way through Isaac’s lovely little club.  That wasn’t very gentlemanly.  We’ve seen your true colours now, haven’t we, Daniel?  I wonder if Maya knows what you’re really like.  Does she know what you did to that boy?  That you threatened an elderly man?’

Both elbows on the counter, Dan lowers his head.

‘They’re not innocent.’

‘Maybe not. But you can’t prove a thing.  So, you can go to the police if you like and then we’ll see what happens. Isaac’s ready to press charges, by the way, and so is the feckless kid with the broken nose.’

‘I don’t care.’

‘Really?  So, what do you care about then?  Or should I say who?’

Another prolonged silence hangs over us before Boyd begins to work his way through a list of the people in our lives, pausing between each sentence, making it perfectly obvious that he’s in the know.

‘How about the old farties who live at your house?  Or the ditzy teenager and her deadbeat mum?  How about Clive and his delicious girlfriend, Lucy?’

Dan’s fists tighten into balls.

‘And how about you come out of the shadows and deal with this face to face?’

Boyd laughs again.

‘And how about Maya’s family?  Or yours?  Your two sisters?  Or half-sisters, should I say?  They both have children, you know.  Think about it, Daniel, old boy.  Take your nose out of my business, call off your private detectives … and leave the police out of it.’

The line goes dead.

It’s me who speaks first.

‘What have you been up to?’

‘You heard him.’  Shoving back his stool, Dan paces across the kitchen, leans against a work surface and stares at the floor.

‘And I want to hear it from you.’

He runs his fingers through his hair.  ‘We got a few names.  Women he’d …’  He can’t bring himself to say any more.  ‘We thought we could get them to talk.  But they won’t.’

‘Boyd told you to back off,’ I remind him.

‘I know that.  I thought we could nail him.’

‘You obviously can’t.’  My thoughts shift.  ‘And how
does
he have your phone number?’

‘No idea.’  He shrugs.  ‘I can’t work it out.  The bastard’s always one step ahead.’  He thinks for a minute.  ‘Maybe we should just go to the police.’

‘No,’ Clive interrupts.  ‘You heard what he said.  You’ll be the one who ends up in prison, not him.  And no amount of money’s going to keep everyone safe.’

‘It’s bluster.’  Dan scowls.

‘And you’re prepared to test that out?’  Clive demands.  ‘Just do what he says, Dan.  Back off for a while.  And do it properly this time.  You’ve got no choice.’

He slipped out of bed at first light.  Vaguely conscious of the movement, I sank back off to sleep, dreaming of shadows and darkness and despair.

When I eventually wake again, I lie on the bed, recalling the events of yesterday, eventually remembering that my semi-comatose idiot of a sister is right next door.  And that’s enough to rouse me.  Getting up, I pull on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, freshen up in the bathroom and make my way downstairs.  I find him sitting at the counter, ploughing through a bowl of muesli.  Sitting up straight, he beckons me into his embrace.

‘Where have you been?’ I ask.  I’m sounding pathetic and I don’t like it.

‘What’s the matter?  Can’t my woman survive without me?’

‘Your woman can manage perfectly well, thank you.’  I punch him in the stomach, making no impact whatsoever.  ‘Where have you been?’

‘Can’t you guess?’

I take a few seconds to examine him. Dressed in jogging bottoms and a T-shirt, he’s clearly sweaty and flushed in the face.

‘Out for a run.’  He skims a finger round the hem of my shorts, catching my bare flesh here and there.  I tingle inside.  ‘Life might be a mess, but I’ve got to stay fit.’

‘I hope you took security with you.’

‘No.  I left security right here.  Outside the door.’

‘Dan.’

‘What?’  He pouts.

‘You’re a target, just like everybody else.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’  With a grimace, he takes a sip of coffee.  ‘Besides, I can handle myself.’

I dig my face into his neck, drinking in his musky smell.

‘Mmm.  I actually love your sweat.  It’s all manly.  Is that disgusting?’

‘Utterly.’  He smiles archly.  ‘If your sister wasn’t in bed upstairs, I’d fuck you right now on this breakfast bar.’

‘Why don’t you chance it?’

We smile at each other like a pair of teenagers, and I’m sure he’s about to rise to the challenge when we’re disturbed by a slammed door.  Peeling myself out of his grasp, I take a seat by his side.

With her hair unkempt and her make-up smudged, my sister stomps down the wooden staircase.  Stopping for a split second, she eyes us warily.

‘Good morning, Sara.’  Dan slides an arm around my back.  ‘Sobered up?’

‘Sort of.’  Unsteady on her feet, she slopes over to join us.

While the seconds crawl past in silence, Dan goes back to his breakfast and Sara settles herself down at the opposite side of the counter.  I really ought to offer her a cup of tea, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to turn my back on these two.  The air’s suddenly charged.

‘I’m sorry,’ she begins.  ‘For yesterday.’

‘Do you actually remember any of it?’ I ask.

‘Not really.  I was supposed to meet James.’  She shakes her head and winces.  ‘But he bailed, and then I called you … and then I was in a bathroom.’

Finishing his muesli, Dan places his spoon in the empty bowl and stares at it.

‘Priceless,’ he mutters.  ‘You nearly destroyed our lives and you’re completely oblivious to it all.  But that’s you all over, isn’t it?’

My sister’s eyes flick between us.

‘I don’t understand.’

He bites back a laugh, stands up and takes the bowl over to the sink.

‘You’d better tell her, Maya.  I’m going for a shower.  I can’t deal with this.’  Returning to the counter, he takes a last sip of coffee, touches his palm against my back and kisses the top of my head.  ‘I love you.’

And with that, he saunters through to the lounge.

‘Dan,’ Sara calls out.

He turns and stares at her, his face impassive.

‘I’m sorry.’

He hesitates before he answers.  ‘I heard you the first time.’

‘I don’t mean for yesterday.’

Oh Jesus.  What’s she playing at now, dragging up a minefield of unresolved issues over breakfast?  I hold my breath, watching his face, catching a flash of disbelief, a hint of disgust.  God knows what he’s about to throw back at her.  My stomach turns a cartwheel as his lips part, but when he finally does speak, I’m astonished at his self-control.

‘It’s all in the past,’ he says quietly.

‘But … the things I did …’

‘Aren’t worth talking about.’  He’s about to leave when he seems to have second thoughts.  ‘We’ll be on friendly terms one day, Sara.  We have to be.’

He takes to the stairs, disappearing from view.

My sister turns back to me, eyes agog.

‘We have to be?’ she asks.

‘Because we’re a couple and that’s the way it’s going to stay,’ I inform her with a significant dollop of pride.  And what the hell, I might as well add on the next bit.  ‘In fact, he wants to marry me.’

Her mouth opens.

‘Bloody hell.  He doesn’t hang around.  Have you said yes?’

I smile.

‘Not yet.’  And then I realise something pretty important, an absolute truth carved in stone.  ‘But it’s going to happen.’  And Jesus, I’ve finally said it out loud.  I really am going to marry the big kahuna.  ‘So …’ I falter, suddenly tangled up in the realisation.  ‘You’ll be his sister-in-law at some point, and you’ll need to work things out.’  I wave my hand in the air, as if it’s going to make things any less confusing.  ‘Tea?’

Without waiting for an answer, I set about making a brew.

‘When are you going home?’ I ask, filling the kettle and switching it on.  Seeing as Dan’s decided to work from home today, I have no intention of letting Sara hang around.

‘I’ve got a train booked for ten.’

‘I’ll call a taxi for you.’

She says nothing.  With my back to her, I prepare the mugs and watch the kettle as it slowly rumbles its way to the boil.

‘I could leave later,’ she says at last, her tone uncertain.  ‘I could change the train time.  Maybe we could go for a walk?’

‘Not an option.  I’m confined to quarters.’

‘Why?’

I take in a breath.  I need to fill her in on the facts.  The kettle clicks.  I make the tea and take it over to the counter.

‘The man you were supposed to meet yesterday,’ I begin.

Heaving up an eyebrow, Sara takes a grateful sip of tea.

‘He isn’t called James.  His real name’s Ian Boyd.  He used you to get to me.’

My words hit her with the full force of a punch to the jaw.  She seems to reel.  And then she gapes at me, shakes her head, puts down the mug.

‘What are you talking about?  He’s called James.  He shops at Tesco’s.’

In spite of everything, I can’t help but laugh at her ridiculous comment.

‘If only.’  I smile.  ‘His name’s Ian and I met him in Edinburgh.  And I don’t think he’s ever been in a supermarket.’  I take a sip of tea, deciding that it’s high time to veer away from glibness.  ‘I went out with him for a while, but he turned abusive … and I ran away.’

‘Ran away?’

‘That was the reason I came down to London.  I needed to lie low.  And it worked for a while … but now he’s found me again.  He used you, Sara.  I have no idea how he tracked you down, but he used you to get me into that hotel.’

She raises the mug to her mouth, clearly struggling to take it all in.  And now for the crunch.

‘And while you were locked in the bathroom … he tried to kidnap me.’

I watch in amazement as a spray of tea splatters across the worktop.

‘Are you kidding me?’ she gasps.  ‘Kidnap?  Nobody gets kidnapped … not really.’

‘That’s what I thought.’  I give her my best sarcastic smile.  ‘But it turns out they do.  Boyd’s obsessive, unbalanced – to say the least.  He tried to get me into his car.  Dan turned up just in time.’

‘Shit.  What?’  She wipes tea away from her chin.  ‘I hope you called the police.’

‘No.’

‘Maya!  If he tried to drag you off …’

‘It’s complicated.’  Suddenly obsessing over Boyd’s threats, my brain shifts into panic mode.  Maybe I’ve revealed too much already.  ‘We can’t get the police involved.  And I don’t want you to say anything to anybody.’

‘But Mum and Dad need to know.’

‘No, they don’t.’  We glare at each other.  ‘I’m serious about this.  Promise me you won’t say a word.  He’s made threats.’

‘What sort of threats?’

If ever there was a moment for a little editing, then this is it.  After all, if I tell her the complete truth, she’ll only freak out.

‘Dan could get into serious trouble.’

‘But what if Boyd comes back?’

‘I’ve got a bodyguard.’

‘And what if he comes back for me?’ she demands, her voice rising towards hysteria.

‘He won’t,’ I lie.  ‘He’s had his use out of you.’

Chewing furiously at her bottom lip, she drifts off into thought.

‘Maybe I should go and stay with Mum and Dad for a while,’ she suggests at last.  ‘Just to be on the safe side.’

‘If it makes you feel any better.’  I smile, doing my best to reassure her.  ‘But it’s me and Dan he’s after.  You’re not in any danger.’

‘And you are?’

‘As long as you stay quiet about this, I’ll be fine.’

She stares at me, dumbstruck, swallowing a few times before she finally, and quite inevitably, dips her toes in the pool of self-pity.

‘I feel like an idiot.  I thought he was interested in me.  I believed him.’

‘Don’t beat yourself up about it.  He can put on a good act.’

She hangs her head.  Her shoulders sink.

‘I’m a mess,’ she goes on, clearly happy with the temperature and taking the plunge.  ‘I can’t believe what I did yesterday.  My marriage is a wreck.  My kids are a nightmare.  My sister hates me.  Her boyfriend hates me.’

Fantastic.  She’s gone right in at the deep end, and now I’m going to have to console her.

‘We don’t hate you.’

‘You might not, but he does.  And I deserve it.  I’ve been bloody awful to both of you.’

Dan’s words echo in my ears. 
Tell her.  Tell her what she did to you.
  Deciding that I’m going no further with the sympathy, I summon up every last scrap of courage.  This is the moment for action.

‘You’re right.’

As soon as I close my mouth, I get the desired reaction.  She raises her head, makes eye contact and waits for me to confirm all the things we’ve tried to forget.  And by confirming them, I’ll bring them back to life.  We’ll have to acknowledge them, live with them and deal with them.

‘What you did to Dan is between you and him,’ I go on.  ‘But I can tell you what you did to me.  You took every opportunity to let me know I was useless, every opportunity to ridicule me and make me look like an idiot.  And because of you, I had no self-confidence, no friends.  Because of you, I felt worthless.’

And there you have it.  Done and dusted.

I’m half expecting her to deny it all, to refute my claims.  Instead, she gazes at me and I can practically see the regret in her eyes.

‘And now?’ she asks.  ‘Is that how you feel now?’

‘A little.’  I pause.  ‘But Dan’s undoing the damage.  Bit by bit.  Because he understands.’

Hands clasped, she lowers her head, slumping towards the counter top.  And I give a jolt, surprised to find that Dan’s standing right behind her.  I’d let my sister know he’s here, but he shakes his head.  Whatever she’s about to say, he wants to hear it too.

At last, a whispered confession trickles out into the quiet.  Slow.  Punctuated by silences.

‘I’ve thought about it a lot.  Why I was like that.  Why I did those things.  I don’t really know why I went so far.  All I know is I was fucked up.  Spoilt.  Before you came along, Mum and Dad gave me everything.  I was the centre of attention for nine years.  I had them wrapped around my little finger.’  She stops for a moment, taking in one jagged breath after another.  ‘I’m not trying to blame them.  I’m just trying to explain.  I don’t even know if I’m right, but it’s the only thing I can think of.  I suppose I got used to it.  I was Queen Bee at home and Queen Bee at school, right from the start.  I got my way.  I never stopped to think how I made people feel.  It didn’t matter to me.  And then you came along, and Dad lost his job.  I didn’t have much to fall back on.  I wasn’t bright like you.  I didn’t have any talent.  I didn’t have anything really.’  With a sigh, she finally comes to her conclusion.  ‘I suppose I made other people miserable to stop myself from feeling small.’

I’ve heard enough.  I lay a hand on her arm.

‘You don’t have to go on.’

I catch sight of Dan.  He shakes his head again.

‘Nobody liked me, Maya.  I know that.  I just manipulated people, scared them.’  She looks up with a wry smile.  ‘I guess I’m like your Mr Boyd.’

‘Don’t say that.  You’re nothing like him.  He has no conscience.’

‘And I do?’

‘Well look at you now.’  I smile back at her.  ‘I think you’re sorry.’

She nods.

‘And you’re lucky,’ she goes on wistfully.  ‘You’re beautiful and talented.  You have the most amazing man in your life.  And he loves you.  You deserve that.  I hope you do marry him.  You’d be an idiot not to.’