It had a strong sense of community, too. Only the week before, Burgh Road, the street Dom lived on, had been closed off for a street party. They held one every couple of months, and it was always wonderful to see the children all playing together in the road, the neighbours wandering over to one another to speak, where usually they were hidden in their homes.
Every time she looked around the place she had made her home, Dominique felt content. Doubly so on a Friday. Arms still linked, she and Fiona waited for three red double decker buses to pass, while hard little snowflakes drifted onto their perfectly blow-dried hair, starting to undo hours of hard work. The two women ran across the road, dodging the busy traffic, glossy manes swinging like something from a shampoo advert. Seconds later, they disappeared inside their favourite French restaurant.
As she closed the door, Dominique paused to check.
No one was following her. Of course not. Yet for months now she often felt a prickling unease on the back of her neck, as if someone watched her.
Five
Ruby’s phone vibrated again, but she ignored it and tried to concentrate on the maths book in front of her. The text swayed in drunken fashion. The desk joined in. The classroom walls. She felt sick.
Harry stared at her, heating her skin like a laser beam. He suspected something. She licked her lips, told herself she was used to living with the constant fear of him discovering. But it didn’t stop her worrying – if Harry’s reaction was bad now, what would he say if she showed him? What would he do?
So, Ruby snubbed her phone and tried to think about her teacher’s words. Tried to stare at the numbers and symbols on the page until they formed some kind of sense. They refused. All she could think of was the phone.
What does the message say? Would Harry notice if she checked it?
She glanced at him from under her eyelashes. At the desk beside hers he did the same thing. He turned his head. Gave her a look so intense it felt as though they were the only two people in the room. He burned everyone else away, his love whiting out the real world. In truth, Ruby had disappeared into him the day she met him. But she had no regrets.
Well, hardly any.
The phone shuddered in her hands like something alive. Ruby clutched it blindly, trying to concentrate on the teacher’s gobbledygook. When the hell would she ever have to use Pythagoras’s theorem? What was she even going to do with her life when she left school? The only thing that mattered in the world right now was that message.
The teacher waffled on. He seemed really enthusiastic about this triangle business, though Ruby couldn’t understand why. Although not exactly gifted academically, she was no slouch either. But grasping theorems proved difficult when all she could think about was not being caught by her boyfriend checking her phone. She didn’t want him making a scene.
She had to know what the messages were.
She should wait until lunchtime. Only half an hour to go until then. She could get away from Harry’s watchful eyes by slipping to the loo.
Each minute seemed agony, though. Ruby couldn’t last another second, let alone thirty minutes. The phone itched for attention, but she knew if she scratched it her soul would bleed.
Harry bent over his notebook, starting to write. Everyone did the same. Ruby wondered if she had missed some instruction, but didn’t let it worry her. Instead, she swiped a finger across the screen to unlock it, all without even looking down. It would be the downward glance that was the dodgy bit, the bit that might alert her teacher or Harry to what she was up to. Mobiles were, technically, banned in classrooms. But Ruby had bigger things than that to think about.
She risked a glance at the message.
Shivered.
Looked up, unseeing. Stared with blank eyes at the teacher – who met her gaze.
‘Finished already, Ruby?’ he asked.
She jumped. ‘Just thinking, sir.’ Grabbed her pen and leaned over as if to write.
The phone’s screen glowed with the message, the words burning into Ruby’s retinas.
Six
Acting confident, that was the key to success. It didn’t matter what rubbish you spouted as long as you said it with authority. Benjamin had learned that years ago, when first starting out, inspired by the Muhammad Ali quote that if you could back it up, it wasn’t bragging. Benjamin always managed to back it up, somehow, some way.
Still, he felt nervous about this meeting. He dug out a couple of antacids and swallowed them down to try to ease his stomach.
The meeting had been all set up for later that afternoon, and there was a lot riding on it. He needed to come across as the man: The Man. There couldn’t be so much as a hint of his feelings of inadequacy from the morning.
The antacids weren’t going to get rid of his jitters. He needed something more active. Something he had become addicted to as a way of calming himself. Did he have time? He checked his diary. There was nothing important, nothing he couldn’t rejig.
‘I’m just nipping out for an hour or so,’ he told his secretary. ‘Hold all my calls until then.’
He didn’t like to, but making sure he felt good for the meeting took precedence over everything else.
‘Oh, Benjamin, I need to talk to you.’ His business partner, Jazmine Bauer, stood in the doorway of her office with her hands on her hips.
‘Sorry, can’t stop.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘See a man about a dog,’ he grinned. He barely slowed his step as he walked out, even though Jaz called after him, voice tight with frustration. Screw her, she needed to stop acting like some mother hen, and trust Benjamin. He’d never let his partner down yet and he never would.
But right now, he needed a hit of a very particular kind of drug.
Seven
‘Cocktail?’ asked Fiona, flourishing the menu.
‘Umm…’ Dominique already felt rosy from the glasses of wine they’d had at the hairdresser’s.
‘Go on, it’s Christmas.’
‘Why not? You’re a bad influence.’
‘Didn’t take much, though, did it?’ Fiona gave her best Sid James chortle, which set Dominique off.
‘Well, I’ll show my good side by insisting we have one as our dessert, rather than start lunch off this way. Anyway, don’t you have clients to see this afternoon?’
Fiona pulled a face, shaking her head. ‘Wading through paperwork. Got a celeb divorce going through; a biggie. It hasn’t even hit the news yet, so we’re trying to sort as much as we can before that happens. Because when it does, both sides will start getting stubborn in order to save face. There’ll be tit-for-tat articles written in magazines; they’ll start believing what’s been printed… Eurgh, it’ll get messy. But I’ll do it tomorrow.’
Dominique knew better than to ask her discreet friend who she represented, even though curiosity prodded her. ‘Working the weekend again.’
‘As per.’
‘And you talk about Benjamin…’
Fiona gave her a look that penetrated Dominique’s humour and made it deflate gently. ‘I do. Because he has a family and someone who loves him. I don’t have to please anyone but myself, so I can be selfish without it impacting on anyone but me. If I did, I’d change my lifestyle.’ She moved her side plate out of the way, and leaned forward on the table. ‘So, are you going to tell me what he’s done? Is he still working crazy hours?’
‘Yes. But Benjamin owns his own business, and you know what that takes. I can hardly criticise him for that. He hasn’t done anything wrong. Honestly—’
‘When people say that they’re always lying—’
‘Honestly,’ Dominique repeated.
Fiona’s hawk eyes pounced on her friend’s hand. Dominique was rubbing at her right forearm again, at the twin silver lines hidden beneath her sleeve. She stopped instantly. Sighed.
‘It’s Ruby, if you must know. She’s so angry all the time.’
‘Typical teenager. Remember what we were like?’
Th
e mum’s fingers twitched to dismiss the comment. ‘We were never like this. The way she looks at me sometimes, it’s pure loathing. And she’s always telling me she hates me.’
‘Oh, I must have said that to my mum a hundred times when I was a teen. I was a bloody nightmare.’
‘I wasn’t though.’
Fiona shrugged while laying her napkin across her lap. ‘Maybe she takes after Benjamin more than you. Just a sec: hi, could we order drinks, please? A bottle of sparkling water, and two glasses, and… a bottle of the Cabernet Sauvignon? Yes, that one, please.’
After getting the go-ahead from Dominique, Fiona pointed to her choice on the menu, and the waiter made a note as she added that they weren’t ready to order food quite yet. Dominique always let people order for her, she realised; whether Benjamin or her best friend, she deferred. People tended to think of her as aloof, but her ice queen act was strictly for those who didn’t know her. Not that she let many people in; too scared to reveal the vulnerability behind the show of strength.
‘Sorry, you were saying… You think Ruby’s behaviour is worse?’ Fiona checked.
Dominique toyed with the stem of her empty wine glass, twirling it between her fingers and staring at it rather than her friend.
‘It’s nothing major. Just rebellious. Sneaking out, not doing as she’s told. Barely speaking to us, and when she does it’s only to answer back or shout. She never smiles any more. Remember how good she used to be with Mouse? Now all she does is yell at her little sister. I’ve tried talking to her, suggested we go shopping together as a treat, but she’s not interested.’
‘Rolled her eyes?’ Fiona did a good impression of a surly teenager.
‘Spot on, that,’ Dominique snorted, despite herself. ‘It’s like she’s taken possession of your body.’
‘God, I wouldn’t go back to being a teenager for all the tea in China.’
‘No, me neither…’ Dominique trailed off awkwardly, and Fiona reached out and squeezed her hand.
‘No, of course you wouldn’t. You mentioned Ruby’s been sneaking out. Do you know where to? Who with? I suppose, on the plus side, at least you know she’s made friends at this new school. That’s got to be a good sign.’
‘If she has, we never see them or hear anything about them.’ Dominique paused as the waiter appeared with their drinks. Only after he had poured for them and disappeared again did she continue. ‘She has made one particular friend though. A boy – a boyfriend, in fact – called Harry.’
‘Oh? From your tone, I take it you don’t approve?’
‘He’s fine. He’s absolutely fine. I’ve only met him a handful of times, but he’s always very polite.’
Fiona didn’t say a word, waiting for Dominique to continue. Silence stretched on. Dom picked up her menu and pretended to read it, even though she knew it off by heart. Fiona idly ran a finger up her glass of water, creating a stripe in the condensation.
Dom caved first, filling the silence.
‘There’s something about him I don’t trust. I can’t put my finger on it. Ruby is absolutely head over heels, though. Thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread.’ It came out in a rush, and she knew she sounded unreasonable. Jealous even. Which was ridiculous. Why on earth would she be jealous of her teenage daughter?
She could remember when she and Benjamin had been young and in love, though. When each had been the centre of the other’s world. When they were young and broke and didn’t care a jot as long as they had each other; well before they had become ensnared by the trappings of success.
‘I take it they go to the same school.’
Dominique nodded. Looked at the menu until she realised she had been staring at the words parfait au foie de volaille for two minutes. She put her menu down with a tut of impatience.
Time to admit the truth.
‘Okay, I know I’m going to sound like a snob, but he’s not the sort of person I want my daughter hanging around with. His family is on benefits, they live in a council flat – not that there’s anything wrong with it, I simply want more for her than that.’
‘Well, it’s not like they’re getting married.’
‘You haven’t seen the way she is around him,’ Dom snapped. She stabbed her index finger repeatedly onto the table as she spoke, wrinkling the red tablecloth. ‘It’s as though the whole universe revolves around him. “Harry this, Harry that.” It’s like she’s lost the ability to think for herself. It’s – it’s suffocating. That’s what it is. Claustrophobic. They spend every second they can together, too.’
‘Okay.’ Fiona’s tone was low, neutral, the voice of a lawyer. Her eyes darted left and she gave the tiniest shake of her head. Dom followed her gesture, and saw their waiter backing away.
‘Forget it, I’m overreacting, I know. Honestly.’
That word again. Fiona blinked at it, the only sign that she knew her friend was lying.
‘I just thought Ruby’s behaviour would improve once she started at this new school; after all, she got what she wanted. And it did – for a short time she seemed happier, more relaxed, smiled again. Then she started dating this Harry, and suddenly she’s worse than ever.’
‘You mentioned something about where he lives…?’
‘Woolwich.’
‘Okay, I’m sure you’ve heard bad things about the area. Violence, knife crime, drugs – but bear in mind that it’s changed a lot in the last couple of years. Half the horror stories come from people who’ve never set foot there. Having said that, some of the most deprived areas of the UK are in SE18. All I’m saying is, get to know the boy before making up your mind about him. Besides, he and Ruby are a phase, a teenage crush, that’s all. This time next month it will have burned itself out.’
For all those reassuring words, the ones sticking out were the bad ones: violence, knife crime, drugs, deprived. Even the smallest chance Ruby was near that sort of thing was a risk too far for Dominique. Keen to change the uncomfortable subject, she gave a swift nod.
‘Absolutely; they’ll never last. Now then, what are you ordering?’
‘Usual. You?’
‘Usual.’
With a wave of her hand, Dominique caught the attention of the waiter. Within minutes, the two women were laughing again. Dominique was being paranoid about the influence her daughter’s new boyfriend had over her. That was all. Like she was being paranoid about her husband hiding things, and that someone was following her.
Eight
Ten minutes after leaving the office, Benjamin pulled up outside a large Victorian house that had been converted into flats. Nerves jittered through his stomach, and his heart thundered, but he knew they would be settled soon. The thought gave him a tingle of excitement, knowing how close he was to scoring.
The road the property was on sloped down, giving a great view of the mercury ribbon of the distant Thames from where he stood. He pressed impatiently on the flat’s bell to be let in, trying to hide his watch, in case anyone dodgy happened past, looking for someone to mug. He had remembered to lock his car, hadn’t he? He turned and pressed the key fob, in case. The lights flashed twice, confirming he had, indeed, already locked the vehicle.
‘Hello?’ came a voice. Female. Young. Wary.
‘It’s me.’
The secure entry door buzzed, and Benjamin pushed it open and launched himself up the stairs in one swift move. He couldn’t wait much longer to get his hands on what he needed.
When he reached flat four, the door was already open, a blonde woman waiting for him. Pale-skinned, large-eyed, she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him.
‘You know why I’m here,’ he growled.
As she stepped towards him, he grabbed her face between both hands and kissed her. Backed her up against the door jamb, pressing his body hard against her as his tongue thrust into her mouth. Already he was stirring, hips starting to grind. They tumbled through the door, breathless, never parting and slammed the door shut.
* * *
&nb
sp; Kendra curled up in the warmth left by Ben’s body. Pulled the duvet a little tighter around herself and buried her nose into it to breathe in his scent, as if he were still with her. Turned a pillow sideways. Flung an arm and leg over it, trying to pretend it was Ben she snuggled.
She wasn’t fooled.
When was he going to leave his wife for her?
They had been together for four years now. During that time all of her friends had got engaged or married, some were even pregnant, as the milestone age of thirty approached. Not Kendra. She had waited for Ben, too in love to break it off with him.
It had been an instant attraction when they met at an awards bash. Ben had been awarded Entrepreneur of the Year by the local paper. She had got chatting to him when she found herself standing beside him at the bar.
‘Congratulations,’ she had smiled. ‘Show us your trophy.’
He handed it to her and… she broke it.
‘Eek. The top’s come off the base; I’m so sorry,’ she gabbled, giving it back to him, the clear plastic ‘scroll’ separated from the black plastic base.
‘That’s okay. But can I have your number? – I might want to get in touch about compensation,’ he smiled, eyes twinkling cheekily.
They had spent the rest of the evening flirting and exchanging banter. He was older than she, but that hadn’t put her off one bit. The way he instantly caught the attention of the bar staff to get served, unlike her as she waved a tenner ineffectually in the air as they swept past her to someone else. The way his suit clung to his powerful build. The air of certainty he had as he spoke. He was a powerful, sexy, successful man – and he knew it. Not in a cocky way, but it screamed from every confident gesture and look. When he leaned on the bar and his jacket fell open, revealing a designer logo, she had known her instincts were correct. This was a man out of her league, a man of the world, far different from anyone she had ever met before.
Her Last Secret Page 3