Some They Lie

by M K Farrar

  Hi. Did you hear me come in last night? Sorry if I woke you.

  The reply came back almost immediately.

  Nope. Slept like a log. Take it you had a good night then! See you later.

  Olivia didn’t know which other way to turn. What about her medication? Had she forgotten to take her pills, or perhaps had taken too many? She thought she had a pretty good balance now and was on an even keel. Perhaps the extra drink had reacted badly with the meds. Strictly speaking, she wasn’t even supposed to drink, but a couple was normally fine. She’d have to be more careful in the future.

  She crawled out of bed and took a quick shower and brushed her teeth to try to make herself feel more human, then put her pyjamas and dressing gown back on. She had no intention of going anywhere today, and anyway, she was supposed to be sick, and the last thing she needed was someone spotting her and reporting back to her boss. In the kitchen, she made tea in the largest mug she could find, and managed to get some toast and marmalade inside her to settle her stomach.

  She intended on spending the rest of the day dozing and watching Netflix, and trying not to think about what might have happened the night before.

  Chapter Eight

  Three Weeks Earlier

  OLIVIA DID AS TONY suggested and took the Friday off as well. By Saturday morning, she was bored out of her mind and starting to go stir-crazy in the flat by herself.

  The morning had dawned with one of those surprisingly bright and warm spring days that made London feel like a whole different place. She wanted to go somewhere with a picnic blanket and a good book, lie in the sun for the day, and forget about everything else. The missing hours from the other night still hadn’t returned, and, despite saying he’d wanted to see her again soon in his text message, she hadn’t heard from Michael either. His silence made her think there was more to the missing hours than he’d let on, and she’d probably said or done something that made him not want to see her again. She didn’t blame him. She’d thought he was out of her league right from the start.

  Tammy had done her usual disappearing act for the weekend right after she’d finished work on Friday night, and Ellen was with Ryan, doing loved-up, couple things.

  Loneliness swept over her. Was there anyone else she could call—one of the other girls from the office, perhaps? But considering she was supposed to have some kind of contagious vomiting bug, she didn’t think anyone would be too pleased to hear from her.

  Suck it up, Livvy, she told herself. You are completely content with your own company. You don’t need anyone else.

  She’d take herself down to Hyde Park and find a spot by the serpentine to hang out. There was no reason she couldn’t have a lovely day on her own.

  With her mind made up, she gathered her things. She’d checked her handbag to see if it contained any clues as to what had happened the other night, but there wasn’t even as much as a receipt from the taxi driver. Why would there be? The only time she got receipts from drivers was if it had to do with work and she needed to claim it back on expenses.

  Olivia left her flat and caught the Tube the handful of stops to Lancaster Gate. The Tube was loud and busy, and she hung onto a pole while the train rocked and swayed through the tunnels. The musty stink of body odour filled her nostrils, and she turned her face to press her nose into her shoulder and tried not to think how many sweaty hands had held the pole before her.

  She exited the station into the fresh air and sunshine and walked the short distance to the park. It seemed half of London had decided to do the same thing, with groups of young people and families occupying almost every spot of grass. The teenagers wore too little clothing—the boys shirtless and the girls in summer dresses or shorts with their t-shirts rolled up under their bras to create belly-tops, exposing inches of flat, flawless skin.

  Liv found a spot in the shade, aware that as much as she loved the sun, it only made her freckles blend together, rather than gave her an actual tan, and tried not to feel jealous of all the youngsters with their easy lives and company. She’d brought a paperback and a cold drink. Though she opened the book and tried to read, she found her gaze drawn to those around her rather than the story. She wondered about all their different lives, what their relationships were with each other. The couple walking side by side, but not touching—were they actually a couple, or just friends, or perhaps it was an illicit relationship, like the one Michael had been talking about, the boss and the secretary, and they simply didn’t want anyone else to see them holding hands?

  She people watched for a while, picking at daisies absentmindly. A tiny ladybird crawled its way up her leg, and she let it continue, its tiny legs tickling her skin, before she gently gave the insect a nudge with her finger and it spread its wings and took off into the spring sunshine. Fly away home. Your house is on fire and your children are gone. What was it with all these nursery rhymes being so sadistic?

  The boredom she’d been experiencing at home hadn’t abated now that she was out and about. It was company she was missing more than anything else.

  She got to her feet, brushed down her backside for any dried grass clinging to her, and folded up the blanket she’d been sitting on. She’d take a walk, browse some shops, maybe. Anything to while away the time. A cold beer with lunch tempted her, but she’d managed to stay away from alcohol since the other night, and she didn’t want to risk one beer turning into a couple. She’d be trying to drink away the boredom, and it had been the drink that had created this issue in the first place.

  Olivia strolled through the park, staying beneath the shade cast by the huge oak trees bordering the path. She took the exit that would take her towards Hyde Park Corner and wandered out of the park and down onto the adjacent street. This was tourist central now, and the various carts lining the pavement catered for them all.

  A little cart sold ice cream, while another peddled handmade jewellery. One particular stand clearly catered for the tourists, with the Union Jack plastered across mugs, and small teddy bears, and t-shirts.

  She stopped short, her breath catching.

  He stood side-on, so she was easily able to make out his profile. The straight nose, and full mouth, and strong jaw. But his lips were pinched, his normally smooth brow furrowed. He was pointing, leaning forward almost aggressively.

  Michael.

  Liv switched her line of sight to the person he was pointing at, and her stomach dropped. A pretty blonde woman, petite in stature. She held her hands out on both sides of her body as a gesture of exasperation, and then flicked one of her hands towards him. He said something else in return then shook his head and stormed away. The young woman watched him go before shaking her head herself and turning and disappearing into the throng of tourists and Saturday shoppers.

  Olivia hesitated. What had that been all about? Was he dating someone else and she’d just witnessed a lovers’ tiff? She didn’t have any reason to be jealous, but she couldn’t help the bitterness rising up inside her. It wasn’t as though they were anywhere near being exclusive to one another. Hell, they’d only had a couple of dates, and neither of them had gone wonderfully well, that she could remember, anyway. Yet something about him intrigued her, and without even thinking, she found herself hurrying down the road after him. She didn’t know what she’d say when she reached him, if she even would speak to him. Maybe she’d just follow him for a little while and see where he ended up.

  But he must have sensed her, as he glanced over his shoulder. Perhaps he hadn’t sensed her at all, but instead had been looking to see if the blonde had followed him. Either way, he locked eyes with Liv, and her heart jolted in her chest.

  Michael frowned and came to an abrupt halt. He spun to face her.

  “Olivia?”

  She stopped short as well, blinking in surprise, trying to act as though she hadn’t known it was him. “Oh, my gosh, Michael. What are you doing here?”

  “I was about to ask the same of you.”

  She lifted the picnic blanket
and bag containing her book. “I wanted to make the most of the sunshine, so I’ve been reading in the park. I wandered down this way to look for somewhere for lunch.” She kicked herself for mentioning lunch. She hoped he wouldn’t think she was hinting for him to take her out again. “What about you?” she added, trying to turn the topic around.

  “Oh, I was doing a little shopping. It was going well until I was short-changed by one of the stall holders.” He motioned up the road to where she’d seen him arguing. Something inside her relaxed.

  “Oh no, that’s a shame. What did you buy?”

  “Sorry?”

  “You said you were short-changed. I wondered what you’d bought.”

  He flapped a hand at her. “Oh, nothing in the end. I told her to keep it.”

  Liv frowned. “You did? So she got your money and you walked away with nothing.”

  “I know. Stupid of me. But I was so angry. I didn’t want anything from her anymore.”

  “Really?”

  He gave a laugh, but it sounded forced. “I know. Not my smartest move, cutting my nose off to spite my face. Anyway, I’ve been meaning to call you. What are you doing now?”

  “Oh, not much.”

  “You mentioned lunch. I’m kind of peckish myself. You want to grab something together?”

  Tell him no, a little voice that sounded suspiciously like Ellen’s hissed in her head. He hadn’t called her, and his story about why he’d been arguing with the blonde didn’t feel right. Besides, the last couple of times when she’d been out with him hadn’t exactly gone well, or at least, in the case of their last date, she couldn’t remember if it had or not.

  He must have sensed her reluctance and reached down and took her hand. His dark eyes had a way of pulling her in, making the world around her fade into background noise. “I really would love to spend some more time with you, Liv.”

  She been lonely all morning, and the idea of not only company, but handsome male company made her give in. “Sure, that would be great.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, trying to make out the blonde working at one of the stalls. His story felt off, but why would he lie?

  “There’s a lovely bistro about ten minutes from here. It has an outside area so we can sit in the sun.”

  “As long as there’s a parasol. My complexion doesn’t do well with direct sunlight.”

  He looked at her. “You have a beautiful complexion. Really. Just like the rest of you.”

  His compliment made her blush, and she pushed the image of him fighting with the blonde out of her head.

  LUNCH WAS A SMORGASBORD of different breads and olives, with pesto drizzled mozzarella balls and ripe tomatoes. As promised, they had a table outside, with a parasol to offer Liv some shade. She washed the food down with an ice-cold beer, and the conversation flowed. Liv discovered Michael, like her, was an only child, and they regaled stories of childhood, how they’d both always stared in fascination at their friends with siblings, wondering how those relationships worked, and envying them so deeply for their easy ability to seemingly love and hate each other at the same time. He entertained her with tales that made her laugh, of a time when he’d stolen a microphone from a karaoke bar and kept singing in the taxi the whole way home, much to the chagrin of the driver.

  It didn’t take long for her to forget all about the blonde and the lack of purchase he’d apparently been short changed for.

  With lunch finished, they left the bistro and stepped out onto the street, both uncertain of what was to come next. There was an unspoken potential between them, a possibility that neither wanted to give voice to. The street was busy with tourists, and the sun bore down on them, heating the pavement below their feet, so it felt as though they were blasted with heat from both directions. They were standing face to face, only a couple of inches between their bodies.

  Michael reached down and brushed a free strand of hair from her face, the backs of his knuckles grazing her jaw, the contact sending sparks through her body. His fingers caught hers and he tugged her closer, so their bodies met.

  Her breath caught, her heart racing. He was going to kiss her.

  She lifted her chin, and he ducked his head, pausing only a fraction from her mouth. He was giving her the opportunity to meet him the rest of the way, showing him it was what she wanted. It was. Their lips met, and his were soft, warm, and firm, and she opened her mouth so their tongues touched. That familiar surge of desire soared up inside her, and she felt his urgency, too. His hand dropped hers and slipped around to the small of her back, pulling her closer. She pressed her body up against his, only partly aware they were making out like a couple of teenagers in the middle of the street.

  She broke the kiss. “We should go back to mine. My flatmate won’t be there.” Her voice was breathy, flustered.

  He nodded, and she noted the high flush in his cheeks, and how kissable his lips looked. “Yes, let’s do that.”

  They both knew what that meant. They’d taken a step on an inevitable path now, but Olivia could see no point in getting off. This was a handsome, professional man, who genuinely seemed to like her. They were both adults. She wracked her mind, trying to remember if she had any condoms at her place. Yes, she did. She’d bought some a few months back—not that she’d had the opportunity to use them.

  “My flat is only a few tube stops from here.”

  “Screw that.” He lifted a hand to signal a passing cab. “We’ll get a taxi.”

  Within minutes, they were settled in the back seat of a cab, with Liv giving the driver her address. They kissed again, Michael’s hand sliding up her thigh. She’d only worn a summer dress that morning because of the gorgeous weather, and it didn’t offer much coverage. Not that she minded and, by the way his hand slid higher and higher up the outside of her thigh to her hip and the elastic of her underwear, neither did Michael.

  They pulled up outside her building, and Michael threw money at the driver before climbing out and pulling Olivia with him. She felt wild and wanton, leading this gorgeous man towards the front door of her building, knowing what would happen when they stepped inside. Holding her hand, he pulled her towards the single lift that accessed the upper floors where her flat was located, but she pulled back on him.

  “No, let’s take the stairs.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her with a frown. “Why? Is it broken?”

  “No, but I don’t like lifts. I always imagine that I’m going to get stuck in them.”

  He grinned. “Getting stuck in a lift with me wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

  Even the promise of lift sex wasn’t going to get her inside.

  “Maybe not, but either we take the stairs, or I don’t go up. It’s only two floors.” The building that occupied her flat and fifteen more identical ones had been built on the site of an old petrol station just a couple of roads away from Shepherd’s Bush high street. Because it was a new build, it had all the mod-cons, even if the flats themselves were tiny.

  “Looks like we’re taking the stairs, then.”

  They hurried up them together and stumbled through the door, Liv managing to slam it shut behind them. Then he was kissing her again, harder this time, forceful. The tentativeness he’d shown on the street had vanished, and he shoved her against the wall beside the front door, his hand pushing up under her dress, reaching for her knickers. His other hand palmed her breast over the top of her clothing, squeezing hard so she gasped at the pain.

  “Oh!”

  But still he was kissing her, his tongue pushing into her mouth. He’d flattened her to the wall and she could feel his desire for her digging hard into her stomach. It was happening fast, but she was no prude, and it wasn’t as though she was some innocent virgin. It felt good to be wanted, and so she met him with her own passion, pulling up his t-shirt to reveal a hard, gym-muscled body. She’d got the impression he’d be fit—no signs of a middle aged spread on him—and she hoped her own body would live up to expectations.


  “Bedroom, this way,” she managed to gasp between bruising kisses. She remembered the condoms in the bathroom. “Hang on, I need to get something,” she said, batting his hands away.

  “No, Olivia, I want you now.”

  “I’ll be ten seconds.” She made a dash for the bathroom and found the condoms. Her gaze caught on her medication. Had she remembered to take that day’s dose? She couldn’t remember, but it didn’t matter now. She grabbed one of the condoms from the packet and ran back to her bedroom. Michael sat on the bed, leaning back on his elbows, waiting for her. A slow smile spread across his face as she lifted the foil packet to show him, unable to hide the blush of embarrassment creeping across her cheeks.

  He reached for her, took her hand, and tugged her onto the bed with him. He pulled her summer dress from her body, leaving her in only her underwear, and those items didn’t remain on for long. She rid him of his trousers and Jockey shorts, too, so they were naked.

  They fell together, kissing with renewed urgency, his hands in her hair, her running her fingers down the hard muscles of his back. His hand slipped between her thighs, his fingers curling inside her, making her cry out, making her wet for him. She rolled the condom down his length, and he thrust inside her, deep and hard, sinking down right to the base of him. They clutched each other as he moved, grunting.

  Her eyes squeezed shut, but he reached up and held her jaw, forcing her to face him as he hovered above her, his expression almost angry. “Look at me, Olivia. I want to look into your eyes when you come.”

  His hips slammed against hers, as he looked down into her face. There was something dangerous in his eyes, but sexy, and as her world exploded in a million sparks and her mind was set spinning with pleasure, she wondered just how dangerous he would end up being.

  Chapter Nine

  Present Day

  SHE ROLLED HER SHOULDERS to loosen her muscles and stared at her handiwork. A criss-cross of stripes ran across his skin, blood running down the cuts in places. Not all of them had bled, but all had hurt. She’d seen it in the way his body tensed at every strike, how he’d tried to pull away, even though his movements were limited as he hung from the metal hook in the ceiling.