Laura emerges from her room the next morning looking distinctly the worse for wear. Her eyes are bloodshot and her hair is all over the place.
‘Thank God it’s almost Christmas and hardly anyone is in the office,’ she groans. ‘I won’t be able to do much today. I feel like shit!’
‘Did you have a nice time with Tom?’ I ask a little smugly as I eat my cereal. I don’t have a hangover at all.
She shoots me a look and smiles. ‘Mmm!’
‘He saw you home, did he?’
She laughs. ‘He very kindly saw me right to the door, and inside.’
‘Really.’ I raise my eyebrows meaningfully. ‘And did he stay long? I expect he wanted to make sure you were really, really safe. I mean, tucked up in bed and all cosy.’
‘Not quite in bed,’ she says, ‘but let’s say we did sit for a while on the sofa and . . . talk.’
I laugh. ‘Was it fun?’
‘Really good fun.’ Laura looks a lot brighter, despite the hangover.
‘Are you going to see him again?’
‘I think so. I’ll see if he sends me a message today.’ She goes to get a drink of water, pouring out a glassful from the bottle in the fridge. ‘I just hope I can make it through, that’s all.’
‘Last day tomorrow,’ I say. ‘Then we go home on Christmas Eve.’
‘Yep.’ Laura gulps down her water. ‘And I can’t wait.’
On the way to work I send Dominic a message.
Hey
Did you get my message last night? Are you back in town? I really want to see you! I’m going home for Christmas soon. Please tell me where you are. Lots of love, B x x
When I emerge from the Underground at Victoria, my phone starts flashing to indicate a new message. It’s from Dominic.
Sorry for the late reply. Good news, I’m in London. I’ve got things to tell you. Can I see you later? D x
I feel a rush of joy. I did the right thing. I trusted him and he came through. I’m sure he’s going to tell me something to do with Anna. I message back telling him to meet me after work. I can’t wait to see him.
I spend an hour chatting with Mark as he lies on his bed in the conservatory. Although it’s freezing outside, the conservatory is toasty warm, but Mark is wrapped up in several layers of blankets and still can’t seem to shake the chill he feels.
I try to distract him with talk but I’m anxious about the way he seems so weak and frail. It’s hard to imagine him being able to withstand radiotherapy. He looks as though downing an aspirin might be too much.
‘You must go home and have a wonderful Christmas,’ he says to me, his tongue still distorting his words. ‘I’ll be so much better in the new year. We’ll cut our ties with Andrei and get on with acquiring new clients. What do you think of that?’
‘I think it sounds marvellous,’ I exclaim. ‘A fresh start.’
‘Absolutely.’
Caroline comes in with a tray of pill bottles and a glass of water. ‘Time for your medication, darling!’ she says brightly.
I get up. ‘Happy Christmas, Mark.’ I lean over and kiss him.
‘Happy Christmas. Your bonus is on the desk, by the way. Now – have a lovely time with your family and I’ll see you back here in January.’ He manages a smile.
‘Goodbye, dear,’ says Caroline. ‘If I don’t see you, have a lovely time.’
‘Goodbye, and happy Christmas, Caroline.’
I ought to feel festive and merry but I realise I’m wiping away tears as I head into the office. Mark is so ill, it’s hard to imagine that he’ll be any different in the new year. He might never get better. The thought is so awful it makes me gulp, but I fight for control. He needs me to be strong and keep things running. We’ll face whatever happens when it comes.
On the desk in the office is a beautiful pale blue box with a plump white ribbon wrapped around it. This must be the bonus Mark mentioned. I’d assumed he meant some shopping vouchers or some cash but he’s given me an actual gift. How kind of him. I wonder whether to open it and then decide I’ll keep it to open on Christmas Day. Knowing Mark, it’s sure to be a beautiful present, and it will be something special to open.
There’s also a pile of post that includes a lot of Christmas cards addressed to Mark. He’s received dozens already, most from business contacts and clients, from addresses all over the world. Among them I find one addressed to me, with a formal typed label.
How strange, no one’s sent me a card here before! I wonder who it’s from.
I slice open the envelope with Mark’s letter opener and take out the card. It’s a picture of a Russian icon of the Madonna. I open it and a folded piece of paper slips out onto the desk. Inside there’s a printed message that reads: Happy Christmas and best wishes for the New Year from Andrei Dubrovski. Beneath that in a scrawling hand written in black ink are the words:
Beth. Your Christmas Gift. Andrei.
I pick up the folded piece of paper and open it up. I read it, frowning as I wonder what it means. For one thing, it’s dated the 2nd January, which is over a week away. It’s titled ‘Press Release from the Office of Andrei Dubrovski, embargoed until 2nd January’. I begin to read.
The Office of Andrei Dubrovski announces its intention to sue art dealer Mark Palliser for malpractice and mishandling of affairs after it has emerged that the well- known art expert wrongly identified a work of art as being by the Florentine Renaissance master, Fra Angelico. Mr Dubrovski paid over two million pounds for the work which was later confirmed as a fake by experts at the Hermitage Museum in St Petersburg. Mr Dubrovski was devastated by the verdict and has taken steps to recover the sum he paid for the painting. There are also questions over Mr Palliser’s handling of Mr Dubrovski’s financial affairs and certain aspects are being investigated with a view to recovering any sums that might be owing.
Mr Dubrovski commented: ‘I’m deeply saddened by the end of my professional relationship with Mark Palliser. Unfortunately his mistaken authentication has cost me a great deal of money and I intend to sue for damages and compensation. I hope that further suggestions of financial misconduct will prove to be false.’
Please direct all further enquiries on this matter to the Office of Andrei Dubrovski.
I drop the piece of paper onto the desk with a gasp of horror. So he wasn’t bluffing. He intends to do this. I cover my face with my hands, trying to process what I’ve just read. But he’s given me a grace period. I can only guess that he’s going to give me one last chance to change my mind and save Mark.
I think of my friend lying so weak and ill on the bed in the conservatory, and I’m sure that this will kill him.
I take a deep shaking breath, and burst into tears.
Dominic sends a car for me and I climb into its interior, grateful that I’m going to be insulated from the outside. The Christmas cheeriness is too much to bear when I’m feeling so miserable; even the prospect of seeing Dominic is not making me feel much better. The lights blur in front of my eyes as I well up again thinking about the terrible trap I’m in. Dominic persuaded me that I didn’t need to worry because Andrei wouldn’t carry out his threat but it looks now as though Andrei was in fact deadly serious. He’s prepared to sacrifice Mark if I don’t do what he wants.
On my way to the rendezvous I wonder, as I’ve been wondering all day, whether I should tell Dominic that it’s all over. I could spin some line about how I don’t love him any more, or I could scream and shout, tell him I saw him with Anna last night and accuse him of everything I can think of – and then storm out. Then I would go and live with Andrei, and somehow I would manage to stand it because I’d know that I’d saved Mark, and Dominic too, if Andrei will do as I ask and leave him be. Just when I’ve resolved that the only way out of this is to concede to Andrei’s demands, the car comes to a halt in front of a large, white-fronted house. I look around and realise that we’ve arrived in Marylebone, just off Wimpole Street.
The driver gets out and opens the door for me,
and gestures me towards the huge black front door, a potted bay tree on either side.
I go up and press the large bell push in a brass surround. A moment later, the door swings open and Dominic stands there, handsome in dark trousers and a pale-blue checked shirt that somehow makes his eyes browner than ever.
‘You’re here!’ He’s beaming as he opens his arms to me and, despite my resolution in the car to resist him, I throw myself into them, desperate for the comfort of his closeness.
‘Hey, Beth, what’s wrong?’ he says, kissing the top of my head.
I try to speak. I’ve rehearsed what I want to say in the car and now I ought to deliver my speech with conviction – I need to tell Dominic that it’s over and we’ll never see each other again – but the reality of being with him shows me the total impossibility that I could ever do it. I’m swamped with guilt because my inability to deny myself the joy of Dominic means that Mark is going to be destroyed. I feel the tears rush up to my eyes again and sob into Dominic’s chest.
‘You’re crying! What is it?’ He pulls me inside and closes the door. We’re standing in a marble-floored hallway beneath a huge brass lantern.
I look up into his eyes that are full of tender concern. ‘Oh, Dominic! It’s Andrei. Look!’ I wipe away some tears and pull the press release out of my bag and press it into Dominic’s hands. He takes it, unfolds it and scans it quickly
‘I see,’ he says grimly.
‘What do you think?’ I try not to wail but my voice rises as I say, ‘He’s actually going to ruin Mark after all! To get back at me!’
Dominic refolds the paper and hands it back to me. ‘Don’t worry,’ he says. ‘It’s not going to happen.’
‘What do you mean? He’s prepared this release. It’s obvious he’s serious. The only reason he’s delaying must be to give me one last chance to change my mind.’ I grasp Dominic’s hand. ‘I can’t bear it!’
He holds my hands tight in return. ‘You’re not going to be blackmailed like this, don’t you worry. Listen, we’ve got a visitor or two coming. After that, everything will be clear.’
I shake my head as though waking up and look around. ‘Where are we? Where is this place?’
‘Do you like it? This is my new house.’
‘What?’ I stare about the huge hallway. ‘Your new house?’
‘I think so. I’m still deciding. I wanted to ask your opinion first. What do you think so far?’
I look around. The place seems strange because there’s no furniture, except for a few isolated tables, chairs and lamps. ‘It’s lovely,’ I say. Then I look back at him. ‘Rather different from Randolph Gardens!’
He smiles. ‘Yes. A little bigger. Would you like to look around?’
‘I’m not sure, to be honest,’ I say, sniffing a little. ‘I’m not really in the mood. I’m sorry.’
He takes me in his arms again. ‘Hey, don’t be unhappy. I promise, it’s going to be all right. You’ll see.’
‘When did you get to London?’ I ask him, muffled a little against his shirt.
‘Yesterday.’ He pulls back so he can look into my face. ‘I didn’t want to tell you in case what I was doing didn’t work out. But I think it’s going to be fine and I swear I won’t let Andrei hurt Mark – or you.’
I gaze back. Are you going to tell me about Anna? What happened between you last night? I remember the way they were laughing together – it’s hard to believe what bitterness there’s been between the two of them. I wonder whether Dominic really has it in his power to stop Andrei sending out that press release, and starting Mark’s destruction.
‘Come on,’ he says coaxingly. ‘Come and see the house. I really want your opinion.’
‘Okay,’ I say, a little reluctantly. ‘I’ll look.’
He takes me over the house, full of enthusiasm. It’s certainly a wonderful place with five storeys of rooms, all with the graciousness of the Regency style mixed seamlessly with modern comfort and the luxurious touches of beautiful bathrooms, a gym and a cinema room. When we finally return to the ground floor, Dominic is keen to know what I think.
‘Well – do you like it?’
‘I think it’s gorgeous,’ I say honestly. ‘But it’s huge. All this, just for you?’
‘Too much?’ He looks a little crestfallen.
‘It’s very grand but . . .’ I think about Andrei’s chilly palace on the edge of Central Park and then of Georgie’s cosy, lived-in brownstone, and I know where I’d rather live. ‘Perhaps it would be more homely with some furniture in it,’ I say with doubt in my voice.
Dominic starts to laugh.
‘What?’
‘You’re so sweet – and so right. I’m getting carried away. I don’t need this house – not yet, anyway.’ He kisses me gently on the lips. ‘Why don’t we look for somewhere together?’ he asks.
I almost stop breathing. Together? Live together? The idea is a wonderful one that makes me want to dance with joy. Then I rebuke myself. No, he can’t mean that. He means he wants my advice looking for somewhere.
‘I value your judgement,’ he goes on. ‘And . . . I want you to feel at home wherever I am.’
‘I’d love to help you choose a place,’ I say tentatively, not wanting to misunderstand him.
‘Beth,’ he says, taking my hands in his and standing close to me. ‘I want a little more than that. I want—’
A loud noise rings out through the empty hall, making me jump violently.
‘Ah,’ says Dominic. ‘My visitor is here. Don’t be shocked, Beth. Wait and see.’ He strides over to the front door and opens it. In the doorway is a beautiful silhouette, slender and shapely, with an unmistakable pair of cheekbones. It’s Anna. She cranes her neck to accept a kiss from Dominic on each cheek and then sways into the hall on high heels.
‘What a perfectly lovely house, Dominic,’ she announces. ‘Do tell me this is yours.’
‘I’m still deciding,’ he says with a sideways look at me.
She walks right up to me and fixes me with a look from those slanting green eyes. ‘Beth. Hello. How are you?’
‘I’m fine, thank you, Anna.’ I try to sound cool and composed. ‘How are you?’
‘Amaaazing,’ she purrs. ‘As usual.’ She spins on her heel and faces Dominic. ‘Are you going to offer me a drink?’
‘Of course,’ he says. ‘Champagne?’
‘You know me too well. I can’t resist.’
‘Let’s go downstairs.’
We follow Dominic down to the huge kitchen that’s been extended into the garden with a wall of glass and is a minimalist creation of white gloss surfaces and polished concrete. He goes to the fridge, takes out a bottle and opens it, pouring the wine into glasses that are waiting on the bench.
I’m still waiting to hear what exactly Anna is doing here, but I’m determined not to leap to any conclusions. I’m going to trust that Dominic knows what he’s doing.
He passes each of us a glass of champagne and holds one up himself. ‘To our joint ventures,’ he says with a broad smile. ‘And success.’
Anna holds up her glass and clinks it against Dominic’s. ‘To our success.’ She turns to me. ‘Beth – success.’
I let her clink her glass on mine, but say nothing. I can’t forget the fact that she dropped drugs into my drink at the catacombs party, and attempted to sabotage my relationship with Dominic so that she could have him herself.
We all sip our champagne and I feel the bubbles prickling over my tongue.
‘So Anna,’ Dominic says. ‘You remember what we talked about last night. Have you come to any decisions about what you’re going to do?’
‘I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t,’ she returns coolly. ‘You know that. We just have to be certain that this will work. We can’t afford failure.’
‘Between the three of us, we can make it work,’ Dominic says adamantly. ‘Between us, we have the information we need.’
‘But you need what I know,’ Anna remarks with a co
quettish tip of her head. ‘I have the key.’
Dominic leans towards her, his eyes suddenly intense. ‘And are you going to give me the key?’
‘I might.’ She flutters her eyelids at him, and I feel a rush of jealousy spiralling up inside me.
She is completely shameless. I’m standing here and she’s flirting with Dominic right in front me! She’s unbelievable! Is anything really worth this? I try to control myself. Mark is worth this.
‘I don’t owe you anything, Dominic,’ she says, suddenly still.
‘No. But this isn’t about me,’ he says. ‘It’s about Andrei.’
A bitter expression crosses her face. ‘Yes.’ She sounds convinced again. ‘Andrei. He’s going to be sorry about the way he treated me.’ She slides her gaze over to me. ‘I’ve no interest in helping you, Beth, but if that’s part of the bargain, so be it.’
I keep quiet, sensing that there is a delicate balance here and I mustn’t upset it.
‘So,’ presses Dominic. ‘What can you tell us?’
‘I can tell you that Andrei knew that painting was a fake from well before the time he decided to buy it.’
I gasp and despite my resolve not to say anything I can’t help my words escaping me. ‘He knew?’
‘That’s right,’ she says, cocking an eyebrow at me. ‘He paid over two million for something he knew was going to be proved a forgery.’
‘But why?’ I say, amazed. ‘What could he hope to gain from that?’
She laughs mockingly. ‘My darling, you’re so naïve. Andrei’s money laundering, of course. He’s deeply involved with the criminal underworld and he does extremely well out of cleaning the proceeds of drugs and crime, which in turn smooths his path through many of his more difficult deals and makes him more money.’
I stare at her. Then I turn to Dominic. ‘Did you know about this?’
‘No,’ he says firmly. ‘Not a thing.’
‘He didn’t,’ says Anna breezily. ‘Andrei told only me. He should have remembered that when he decided to throw me aside in the way he did. But I don’t think he suspected I would tell you. And . . .’ she shrugs ‘. . . he paid me a lot of money as a severance bonus that he probably thought would buy my silence.’ Then she turns to face me. ‘The real question is, Beth – did you know?’
Promises After Dark (After Dark Book 3) Page 20