by Sofia Grey
She stared at him, her fingers stilled on the coffee scoop.
“They’re herbal.” He smiled. He reminded her of the headmaster from high school. “I have your best interests at heart, Sylvie.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sylvie drove their SUV onto the noon ferry, feeling brighter and more alert than she had in weeks. The fog inside her head was gone, replaced by determination to find Alex.
The angel on one shoulder yelled at her. If Alex knew she was taking drugs of any kind he’d be furious. The devil on her other shoulder was more laid back. She had to do whatever it took, and if that included taking Frankie’s herbal capsules, so be it.
She took a room in a Dublin city centre hotel and started working the phone, armed with a current list of nearby hotels. Her story was simple. Her boss was on business in the city, and she’d forgotten where he was staying. She had an urgent document to deliver to him. Could they please confirm she had the right place? Call after call, she crossed them off. Nobody had Alex Hamilton registered as a guest. Where the fuck was he?
Maybe he dumped Frankie’s car and took another? She checked the car-hire firms in Holyhead but again drew a blank.
Sylvie was on the phone until almost eleven at night, by which time nowhere was open. She needed to rest. She’d be no use without any sleep.
Though she was so tired her limbs ached, sleep refused to come. She stared at the ceiling for over an hour, before giving in and taking the sleeping pills again.
Just for tonight. And then she’d stop.
****
Alex’s room had a comfortable armchair by the window. It reminded him of the captain’s chair in his studio. He could see the canal from here, the hills in the background, ducks splashing on the water, and mothers pushing prams along the towpath. It was lovely and normal.
And there was always the TV for company. He left it playing in the background as he worked his way through the Jameson.
At one point he sprawled in the chair, whiskey glass securely in his hand, when Event Horizon appeared on the local music channel. It was a live video of Another Day—one of their biggest hits—but the more recent version with Sylvie on the bass instead of Sam.
Alex grudgingly admitted that she played this better than Sam ever had. She was a natural.
He thought about her mischievous nature. The way she teased him and prodded him into doing things he’d never normally consider—like camping. Her million-watt smile that could light up the darkest of rooms. Her gutsiness, the refusal to accept no as an answer, her amazing street-fighting skills, and the way she nestled into his body when they curled up in bed together.
He feasted his eyes on her. Fuck. She was gorgeous. How did he ever think he had a chance with her? He’d tempted her with the idea of joining the band, and eased his way into her life. He knew it was a mistake; he told Jordan that, weeks ago.
Tears pricked at his eyes. He loved her more than anything. Would he ever get over her?
****
Adele and Karl had breakfast at the first café they came across. Despite their lack of sleep, they were wide awake and in need of a diversion. They pretended they were tourists and checked out some of the city attractions, then grabbed Chinese takeaway from one of Karl’s favourite restaurants and went back to his place to eat it.
Karl owned a house. Adele was impressed. He was modest about it. His grandparents left him enough money to make a deposit on a mortgage, and he bought this place in January. It needed work, but with the help of various friends and relatives, he’d done most of it already. It was a tidy little terrace, with a sunny kitchen opening onto a yard, a generous sized lounge, and two bedrooms.
He showed her his pride and joy—a motorbike—and asked if she’d like to go for a spin on it sometime. Adele said she might, and this drew a smile.
“I should have asked you earlier,” said Adele as they settled down to eat. “Do you have a girlfriend? I don’t want you to get in trouble for spending the day with me.”
“Nah. I’m single.” He offered her the carton of fried rice. “I was in a long-term relationship until last year. I bought this place when we split up. Working on it was good therapy.”
“I’m sorry,” murmured Adele.
“How about you?”
“Single.” She told him about Curtis, but only the edited highlights. She burned to know more about Karl’s ex-girlfriend and what broke them up, but he didn’t volunteer any information, and Adele didn’t like to ask.
They sat at the kitchen counter, picking food out of cartons with chopsticks while chatting. It seemed natural to clear away the plates and containers, then sit together on his squishy comfortable sofa. Adele parked herself at one end, he took the other, and she tucked up her feet.
“How about some Monty Python?” Karl asked.
“Sounds perfect.”
He fired up The Holy Grail on the TV, and they settled to watch the film, reciting most of the lines along with the characters. After that, they segued to the Fawlty Towers series and had a playful debate over which episode was the best.
“Kipper and the Corpse,” declared Adele. “Best scene, where the elderly woman gets locked in the wardrobe with the dead guy.”
Karl tipped his head back and laughed. “I forgot that one. But the scene where Basil thinks it’s the kipper at fault and tries to hide it? That cracks me up every time.”
With Karl, there was no pressure to be anything other than herself. He knew what happened to her, and yet Adele didn’t feel embarrassed with him.
She was desperate for a shower, though. After all, she wore the same clothes she put on yesterday morning. But the food made her sleepy, and the sofa was comfortable.
The chirrup of her phone woke her. She had a crick in her neck, but otherwise felt amazing. Karl dozed beside her, his arm around her shoulders, with her head resting against his chest. She felt safe.
She was tempted to close her eyes and stay longer, but her movement woke Karl. He lifted his head and yawned. It was time to go.
Adele sat upright and stretched, trying to remember where she left her phone. In her bag. On the floor.
“Uh... you okay?” Karl’s voice was gruff. Sexy.
And where did that thought come from?
“Yep.” She leaned over and grabbed her bag, finding her phone in seconds. “Hang on while I answer this.”
It was a text from her mum.
Hi lovie. Checking if you’re bringing any friends with you for Xmas. No rush. Mum x
Her parents were so excited that Adele would be in England for the Christmas holiday. It was a month away, but they were in full planning mode. They worried about her single status, but as Adele kept telling them, she had plenty of time left to think about a family. Her younger brother had two little kids, so they weren’t short of grandchildren to make a fuss of.
She typed a quick reply.
Not sure yet. Talk soon. A x
It was easier than saying no.
When she checked the time, she was surprised to find it was almost ten. “I’d better go home,” she said. “Could you please call me a cab while I use the bathroom?”
“Yep.” He rolled his head left and right, and covered a yawn. “I’ll see you home.”
It was a lovely idea. “Don’t be silly.” She made her voice brisk. “There’s no point in your travelling halfway across the city, and then coming straight back.” She smiled to soften her words. “Stupidly expensive too.”
He frowned. “Nope. I’ll come with you and make sure you get there okay.”
“Karl.”
“I want to.”
“At least let me pay the fare.”
“We’ll split it. Does that work?”
The gesture made her feel warm inside. With the cabbie waiting outside, Karl stood in the doorway to her apartment and watched her go inside and switch the lights on.
“Thank you,” she said. “For today. It was good.”
With his hands in his pockets
and leaning against the doorframe, he radiated a calm confidence. His hair was rumpled, and the scruff was thicker. He looked a different person to the nerd she first thought him to be. Karl was lovely.
Adele wasn’t shy by nature, but these were different circumstances to what she was used to. She was damaged goods, and maybe Karl felt responsible somehow. He’d not given her any indication that he saw her as anything but a friend.
“Will you be okay?” he asked.
With any other guy, she’d wonder if he was angling to stay the night. “I’m good. Thank you. Again.”
She stood in front of him, close enough to touch, but neither of them breached the gap.
“Goodnight,” she said. Her gaze was drawn to his lips. What would he be like to kiss? With an effort, she pushed the thought away. Friends. He was a friend.
She wanted him to make a move, while at the same time, dreading it.
They waited a long moment, and she pulled all her courage together. She never normally hesitated when she wanted something, but these were not normal times.
“Goodnight,” she repeated, and then stretched up and pressed a light kiss against his fuzzy cheek.
His breath hitched, but he didn’t move. He smiled, though. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice husky. “Lock the door now, while I stand here.”
She did, and then hurried to the window, to wave him off in the cab. She sank onto her sofa and thought about how the day played out. She had fun. She’d like to see him again, but maybe he wasn’t interested?
Why was life so complicated?
Her phone chirruped with an incoming text. It was from Karl.
Thanks for a great day.
PS. If you’re serious about going out on my bike, keep Saturday free, and we’ll go out for the day if the weather is OK. Night night, K
****
Sylvie took another of the yellow capsules to get her moving on Monday morning. There were more hotels to phone, and she was widening the search to the outskirts of the city and the suburbs beyond.
By lunchtime, she was walking the streets, checking every pub and bar. She crossed them off from a printed map as she made her way along them. She spent all day outside, but there was no sign of Alex. It was crazy, but she imagined he was close by. If she walked a little further, she might catch sight of him.
Footsore and weary, she retreated to her hotel room for a bath and something to eat. When room service brought her sandwich, she stared at it. She was too tired to eat, and at the same time, too wired for sleep.
She hated herself, but she took two more of the white pills. They were a temporary measure, she promised herself. When she found Alex she’d quit them.
****
Jordan was back at his London desk on Monday. There was no news about Alex, and another supposed leak in the Financial Times. It all added up to a shitfest of a day, and it was only halfway through.
A new independent-news blog, Blackbird, was the hot topic of the day. They ran a headline about TM-Tech failing to deliver on time, and questioned whether the company could be trusted.
Jordan skimmed the bones of the story online. It was mostly old news, focused on the difficult period a year ago, when all European operations were affected. What worried him was the closing sentence.
Is it any surprise that Barnstorm are looking for another supplier?
Only a handful of people knew TM-Tech were in negotiations with Barnstorm.
The news piece cited a confidential source for the information. Jordan knew with a sinking feeling that getting the name of the informant was next to impossible. Now it was all about damage control. A meeting was scheduled with his Procurement Director to discuss the matter, before Jordan approached his contact at Barnstorm. He had half an hour to catch up on the rest of the news, and he was busy ploughing through his mailbox, when Cassie knocked on the door and asked if he could spare five minutes to see Nick on an urgent matter.
Nick looked more stressed than Jordan had ever seen him. “I’ve heard about the fake invoices and the fraud and that you think I’m involved.” Nick swallowed hard, his face pale. “It has nothing to do with me. I don’t know what else to say.”
“Sit down.” Jordan waved to the guest chairs, and then took a seat himself. “It’s your name on most of the invoices, Nick, but I don’t think you’re guilty.” Jordan watched as his words sank in.
Nick’s eyes searched Jordan’s face. “Go on,” he said, his voice a little calmer.
“They could have been forged, or you may have signed them in good faith. Either way, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
It was as though the air had been let out of a balloon. Nick sagged in his seat and huffed a sigh, before running one hand through his dishevelled hair. “Thanks, Jordan. I’m...” He closed his eyes a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I was freaking out. Thank you.”
“So how was the conference in Paris? And are you still okay for squash tonight?”
This earned Jordan a faint smile. “Squash would be good, and yes, the conference was useful.”
Nick ran through the highlights of his trip and scheduled a full debriefing on the potential new leads generated. When he left Jordan’s office, he looked a lot happier.
It was a busy afternoon, and Cassie was back and forth with papers that needed Jordan’s attention. It seemed everyone was in the process of packing up and moving back to the old building, so they tried to clear up their urgent matters first. Jordan would be moving into his refurbished office on Wednesday. The rest of the staff were moving in waves, several floors at a time, with hordes of movers and IT people involved.
Cassie brought a slim folder of papers into his office later. “Hi Jordan. This is a bit of an odd thing, and I thought it best to bring straight to you.” She advanced to his desk and laid a plastic document wallet in front of him. “I know the contents of Jason’s office were confiscated by the police, but they missed this. It was one of his folders that got mixed up with some documents of yours. I found it when I was packing up the filing cabinets.”
She gave him an innocent smile. “I thought you might want to review it before you hand it over to the police.”
Jordan was intrigued. He opened the wallet and stared at the dozen or so papers inside. There were invoices, names and phone numbers, and a sheet of lined paper with Nick’s signature written out twenty or thirty times.
Huh? Nick’s signature at the top was a photocopy. The ones underneath were written in ink, and they all differed. The top ones were rough and barely recognisable, but improved as he moved down the page. It looked as though someone was learning how to forge Nick’s signature.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Time passed. When Alex was awake, he drank, finishing the first bottle with ease and starting on a second. Day and night blurred together, yet despite his best efforts, he couldn’t block Sylvie out.
He wasn’t sure whether he was awake or dreaming, but when Rico spoke to him, he had to be asleep.
“Hey, Alex.”
It seemed normal for Alex to turn his head and greet him with a smile. “Hi, Rico.” Then, as an afterthought, “What are you doing here?” Alex felt a pang. This was the man that Sylvie loved.
Rico looked fit and healthy. As he had been in life. He cocked his head to one side. “I’m here to talk to you.” It sounded obvious.
“Sure. What’s on your mind?” In his dream, Alex spoke with no slurring alcohol-laden speech.
“What are you doing here, Alex? Why aren’t you with Sylvie?”
Hearing her name made Alex wince. “You know, Rico, it’s damn hard to follow in your footsteps.”
“She needs you. Believe me.”
“She doesn’t need me. She’s yours.”
There was a long pause, and then Rico gave him the lazy smile Alex had seen so often. “You don’t get it, do you? I was only looking after her until you came along. It’s you she loves. Always has been.” Rico touched Alex’s arm. “Go to her. Please.”
In the time it took to blink, Rico disappeared.
Alex yawned. What a weird dream. Hunching onto his side, he went back to sleep in the chair.
****
Adele launched into packing up her files and documents on Monday morning, ready for the move. It was fun to see Karl wandering around on her floor, sorting out cables and connections for everyone’s computers. He smiled at her and came over to stand by her desk. “Still okay for squash tonight?” he asked.
She liked that he sought her out. It made butterflies flutter inside her. “Yes. Definitely. We’re booked at six. Will you be free by then?”
“I hope so. It’s crazy this week. It’s a huge gamble that we can get everyone moved in and all running by Friday morning. I’m going to be working around the clock at this rate.”
A thought nudged at her, and then retreated. Something important, but what? What did Karl say that sparked that? “Karl, would you repeat that, please?”
He quirked his eyebrows. “Sure. It’s a huge gamble—”
Gamble. The poker game Jason took her to. “Yes. I didn’t tell the police about Jason’s poker game. It might be significant.”
Karl smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “It might. Are you going to?”
“You bet.” She squeezed his hand. “I’ll make an appointment right now.”
The police were very interested. The poker night added another dimension to Jason’s social life. Adele didn’t know the address of the place the game had been held at, but by piecing together what she remembered of getting the cab home, they narrowed down the location to four streets.
The rest of the day flew by in a blur of activity, but she made it to the gym in time, dashing onto the court to find Karl warming up.
They played hard, and Karl had her running across the court, stretching for every shot. She was delighted to take several hard-earned points from him. As they came off the court, red faced and laughing, they bumped into Jordan and Nick, who went on straight after them.
Nick greeted her with a beaming grin and a quick hug. “Drinks later?”