Eastcove Lies Book One:
Lies Love Tells
A Dark Romantic Thriller
By
Gina Dickerson
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Lies Love Tells Copyright Gina Dickerson 2012
This edition published 2017 Copyright Gina Dickerson 2017
The right of Gina Dickerson to be identified as the Author of the work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved in all media. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, photocopying, the Internet or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. It may not be given away or re-sold to other people.
Cover images: Bigstock – Maksim Toome, Stockmile – kondradbak / shmeljov
Cover design and art by RoseWolf Design
All characters and events featured in this publication are purely fictitious and any resemblance to any person, organisation/company, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
www.ginadickersonwriter.co.uk
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Also by Gina Dickerson
Unveiling Lies
(Eastcove Lies Book Two)
Always Golden
(A dark fairy tale)
Mortiswood Tales
Mortiswood: Kaelia Awakening
(Book One)
Mortiswood: Kaelia Falling
(Book Two)
The Pennington Christmas Curse
(A magical fairy tale)
Twisted Thoughts
(A poetry collection)
Underleaf
(A short story collection of twisted, dark tales)
For the links to read two free short stories visit Gina’s website
www.ginadickersonwriter.co.uk
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For my beloved mum:
You are no longer here but you always encouraged me, telling me I could do anything I wanted to do, so this book is for you, Mum. I did it; I made a book!
FOREWORD
Although this book is the first in the ‘Eastcove Lies’ series it can be read as a standalone. Each book in the series is set in the fictional town of Eastcove, with some characters crossing over from book to book.
CONTENTS
How It All Began –
Sunday, 12th September, 1999
Monday, 13th September, 1999
Tuesday, 14th September, 1999
Thursday, 30th September, 1999
Friday, 29th October, 1999
Friday, 17th March, 2000
Wednesday, 14th February 2001
What Happened Next –
Thursday, 14th February 2013
Friday, 15th February 2013
Saturday, 16th February 2013
Sunday, 17th February 2013
Monday, 18th February 2013
Tuesday, 19th February 2013
Wednesday, 20th February 2013
Thursday, 21st February 2013
Friday, 22nd February 2013
Saturday, 23rd February 2013
Sunday, 24th February 2013
Monday, 25th February 2013
Tuesday, 26th February 2013
Wednesday, 27th February 2013
Thursday, 28th February 2013
Friday, 1st March 2013
Saturday, 2nd March 2013
Sunday, 3rd March 2013
Monday, 4th March 2013
Tuesday, 5th March 2013
Wednesday, 6th March 2013
Thursday, 7th March 2013
Friday, 8th March 2013
Saturday, 9th March 2013
Sunday, 10th March 2013
Monday, 11th March 2013
Tuesday, 12th March 2013
Wednesday, 13th March 2013
Thursday, 14th March 2013
Friday, 15th March 2013
Saturday, 16th March 2013
Sunday, 17th March 2013
Monday, 18th March 2013
Monday, 22nd April 2013
About the author
Also by Gina Dickerson
How It All Began –
Sunday, 12th September, 1999
My Diary
Viola’s Wine Bar, Eastcove.
19:00
‘Saze, are you planning on standing there all night?’ Imogen shouted over the thump of the music. ‘We’re running out of clean glasses!’
Beer dripped from the glass in my hand, trickling onto my shoes. Worse still, I was certain the cloudy mass swilling in the bottom of the glass was spit. I shuddered and slammed the offending item on the sticky bar top. Was it my fault if my mind was elsewhere? It was caught up in dreamy-memory-replay with a certain sexy someone.
‘No sign of Scott?’ I asked Imogen.
Imogen shrugged. Even in the subdued lighting of the bar her cheeks unmistakably glowed pink.
‘I thought you two were joined at the hip?’
Imogen fluffed up her short, Raven-blue hair. ‘We’re just friends. It’s not really like that between me and Scott.’
I raised a mock scornful eyebrow.
‘Fine,’ Imogen conceded. ‘We had sex.’
‘I knew it! When, where? Tell me everything!’
Imogen cast a furtive glance around the bar. ‘He’s not here, is he?’
I knew immediately she meant Mr Aloof, the bar owner she considered distant and cold. ‘I haven’t seen him all evening.’ Guilt plucked at me; I had seen him earlier. In his office. In fact I’d seen rather a lot of him and he definitely hadn’t been at all aloof.
‘I never thought Scott was interested in me,’ Imogen continued.
I groaned, honestly did the girl have marbles for eyeballs? Anyone with two brain cells could tell the boy was crazy about her. I’d known her for six months and he always met her at the end of her shift looking as if he could explode with excitement. He wasn’t my type at all; there was something about him I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
‘When I had to lock up on my own last Thursday Scott waited in the bar for me and we had a few drinks.’
‘You drunk all of the cherry liqueur didn’t you?’ I accused. Mr Aloof had interrogated me over its disappearance as it was for him only. ‘You let me take the flak for that, you cheeky cow!’
‘It’s Scott’s favourite drink! Anyway things heated up and I gave him a lap dance. I was obviously drunk, I mean while wriggling like a paralytic snake all over his lap, I took off my bra and swung it around my head shouting “Giddy up boy, I’m gonna ride you hard!”. What an idiot I felt the next morning. Plus he’s being weird. He keeps calling me all of the time. I don’t mean just to say goodnight. He wants to know where I am and who I’m with. It’s a bit suffocating.’
‘That’s nothing unusual at the start of a new relationship.’
‘No,’ Imogen admitted. ‘But this is.’ She rifled in the drawer below the till where we kept our personal items. She pushed some sheets of paper into my hand before hurrying to serve a gaggle of women who had arrived at the bar.
‘What’s wrong with these photos?’ I asked Imogen once she returned from serving. ‘You look really good in all of them. Scott’s a fantastic photographer, he should consider taking it up professionally.’
‘I didn’t know he took them.’ Imogen pointed at a picture showing her looking in a bakery shop’s window. ‘This was back in June when I was choosing a cake for my mum’s birthday, this one.’ She tapped another photo. ‘Was when I was trying shoes on last week.’
‘He’s been following you? How cute, you have a stalker!’
Almost
ashamedly, Imogen shook her head. ‘I don’t know. He’s so lovely to me, I feel really mean complaining about a few photos but he didn’t show me these.’ She took the photographs back and stuffed them in the drawer. ‘I found them hidden under his mattress. It’s all too weird for my liking.’
‘Maybe you’d be better off without him,’ I replied.
‘Maybe.’
23:55
With the bar locked up for the night, I hurried into the toilets to check my make-up in the mirror. Satisfied it hadn’t all melted off, I made my way to the stairs leading up to the private first floor. The dense carpet silenced my footsteps as I took the time to loosen my curls from the ponytail they had been confined to all evening. I was supposed to be meeting Mr Him for a late night drink and a moonlight stroll. I’d known Mr Him for a while and there was a bit of a spark between us but something, or rather, someone else appealed to me more.
The office door swung open at my touch. My breath caught in my throat. I felt hot all over in anticipation. I needed this. I needed him.
‘I’ve been waiting for you.’ Mr Aloof eased his long limbs from the desk chair.
My legs turned to jelly, wobbling me to the spot. I watched Mr Aloof’s tanned fingers deftly unbutton his shirt, exposing his firm chest. He ran a hand through his already dishevelled toffee-honey hair and my heart missed a beat. He hadn’t shaved and faint stubble cast shadows over his jaw. The thought of Mr Him popped into my head but fell out as soon as Mr Aloof furled his hand around my neck, pressing his lips firmly against mine. I knew what he wanted from me and it wasn’t commitment. I knew I’d fallen for Mr Aloof, I mean I was so far down the pit of lust I couldn’t see any light, but I needed him like a drug.
‘Sorry I can’t ask you back to my place,’ he whispered, lowering me gently to the floor. ‘But the decorators are still in and the place stinks to high heaven of paint.’
***
Monday, 13th September, 1999
01.15
‘Would you like me to drop you home?’ Mr Aloof disentangled his warmth from me and retrieved his discarded clothes.
I rolled over onto my stomach, propped my chin on my hands and smiled in what I hoped was a coy, sexy fashion. ‘You are more than welcome to spend the night at my place.’
Mr Aloof tossed my clothes at me. ‘I can’t.’
Naked, I sprung to my feet. ‘Why not?’
‘I don’t want to argue with you.’
Angrily, I struggled back into my work uniform of black top and trousers. ‘I’m not arguing.’
‘That’s exactly what someone who wants to argue would say.’ Mr Aloof rubbed his chin and grinned.
His blue shirt was crumpled but I still wanted to tear it from his rigid body and run my hands all over him again. I watched silently as he powered off his computer and locked his desk drawers. I wondered what he’d do if I refused to leave. Judging by the closed expression masking his face, he’d probably lock the door and leave me stuck in the office all night. I scampered after him, chasing at his heels until I realised I was acting not dissimilar to an adoring puppy and slowed my pace. He didn’t need to know how much I yearned for his affection, did he?
Mr Aloof held the door open for me. ‘You’re still able to do the shift tomorrow evening, aren’t you?’
His eyes belied his outward manner and I stretched on tiptoes to reach his lips with mine. ‘Only if we can do this again,’ I teased.
He wrapped me in his arms, kissing me tenderly. ‘We can always do this, Saze. I always want you.’ His pupils were dilated, darkened pools of fatal sinking sand.
‘You can always have me,’ I returned, forgetting his reluctance to spend the night with me. Sucked deep into his eyes and held in his arms, it was hard enough to breathe, let alone think straight.
11.43
Having recovered from the session with Mr Aloof, I couldn’t help wondering why he had never spent a whole night with me. We’d been having a thing for the past six months.
Midday
To take my mind off Mr Aloof I decided to pop into town and buy some flour so I could bake chocolate chip muffins. Not as tasty as Mr Aloof but far less likely to let me down!
I’d just locked my front door when a tap on my shoulder startled me. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you.’
‘I thought I’d surprise you.’
‘I’m popping into the town but you can walk with me if you want.’
A nod. ‘Okay.’
I fell into companionable step with Mr Him. Unlike the long strides of Mr Aloof, I didn’t need to double my steps to match his. ‘Sorry I didn’t meet you last night.’
Mr Him shrugged easily and slipped his hands into the pockets of his jogging bottoms as we walked. ‘No problem, I was with some mates anyway.’
13.25
The public garden just up the road from “Viola’s” was strangely empty of people but awash with pigeons on the search for food.
‘How about we do something this evening?’ Mr Him ran a finger along my arm which I’d rested on the back of the wooden bench we shared.
His eyes were attractive. I had a bit of a thing about eyes. The fitted t-shirt emphasised his chest muscles. The jogging bottoms I hated but such a minor problem could always be resolved. Say for example by accidentally burning them with an iron. Mr Aloof never wore jogging bottoms, the only clothes he seemed to own were shirts and jeans. Oh, and boxer-shorts of the snug variety.
Mr Him’s voice broke through my Mr Aloof pantasy. ‘This evening, are you free?’
There was an expectant hunger in his eyes and I guessed Mr Him was used to having his own way. ‘Erm…’ I stalled, thinking of Mr Aloof.
‘Fuck!’ Mr Him cursed unexpectedly as a pigeon landed on the ground by his feet and pecked near his trainers. Jumping up, he lashed out at the bird with his foot until it moved away. ‘Skanky little bastard!’
I couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Calm down, it’s only searching for food, no need to have a hissy-fit.’
Mr Him’s face distorted as he furiously eyed up the bird which returned the glare from the safety of a nearby tree. Struggling to compose himself, Mr Him returned to his place on the bench. ‘I don’t want it shitting on me and ruining my t-shirt. It cost me thirty-quid!’
‘You’re not much of an animal lover then?’
Mr Him shot the pigeon a final, angry look. ‘Dogs seem to like me.’
‘But you don’t really like them?’
‘I’ve had a few in my time!’ Mr Him erupted into laughter.
I just looked at him.
‘It was meant to be a joke,’ Mr Him immediately back-pedalled. ‘Women like a joker.’
‘If the jokes are funny.’
Mr Him smiled, casting his eyes to the ground. ‘I think you make me nervous.’
I giggled as he slid closer and his hand wandered onto my thigh.
‘Excuse me,’ a voice interrupted from behind us.
Mr Him exhaled a blast of exasperated air.
The voice sounded amused. ‘I need to borrow Saze.’
I shook my head. It couldn’t be. Was I dreaming?
‘Saze.’ Mr Aloof rubbed his chin, a faint hint of a smile on his lips as he drew into view.
‘Do you know this person?’ Mr Him cut in.
I nodded and without realising, rose to my feet and to Mr Aloof’s side. I could already taste his lips on mine; feel his hands exploring my body. ‘He’s my boss.’
Mr Him launched from the bench and was next to me in a flash, creating an awkward triangle. I looked from Mr Aloof to Mr Him and back again. There really was no contest.
‘I’m Smith Rowan,’ Mr Aloof held out his hand.
Mr Him looked at it without shaking it. ‘And I’m due at work.’ Suddenly he swooped in and locked his lips over mine. I was so surprised I couldn’t even blink. ‘I’ll see you later,’ he said, releasing me. He cast a glare at Mr Aloof before following the path out of the garden.
Smith rubbed his chin again. ‘What
a nice young man.’
‘Don’t be sarcastic, he’s nice enough. Was there a reason you interrupted me?’ I couldn’t help but hope he’d been jealous.
‘I need someone to fill in for Imogen now, she’s gone home sick.’
‘And you just happened to know where I was?’ Hope, the belligerent cow, made my heart leap.
‘No, I’d popped out for these.’ He held up a carrier bag. ‘My black shoes were in the menders. I spotted you sitting here so here I am.’ Smith’s lips twitched as I closed the gap between us and pressed up against him, raising my face to his. He smiled before gently pushing me away. ‘Not here.’
‘Why not?’ I demanded.
‘Can you cover the shift or not?’ Smith countered.
‘Not.’
‘Now you’re just being argumentative.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Yes, you are.’ Smith sighed. ‘But I’m not arguing with you, I don’t like it and there’s no need to.’
‘I’m not working the shift. I’m due in tonight.’
‘I’ll let you have the night off.’
My heart sank. He obviously didn’t want me paying him a late night visit in his office.
‘Cover the shift now and come up to see me after you’ve finished.’ Smith’s eyes danced as he correctly construed my disappointment. ‘I told you, there’s no need for an argument. You can spend some time with me but I’ll understand if you’d rather go home straight after the shift.’
19.00
The bar had filled up by the time I finished the shift and stole up the stairs to Smith’s office. I knocked lightly on the door before opening it and slipping inside.
‘Hello, you!’ Smith’s warm smile pulled me to him and before I knew it I was in his lap, his hands removing my clothes as fast as a wrapper from a sweet.
Lies Love Tells (Eastcove Lies Book 1) Page 1