Annabel raised her eyebrows. ‘Sat nav in the glove compartment if you get stuck. Do you know our postcode?’
‘Just about.’ Naomi took the keys and gave Annabel a snatched hug and was gone.
She stole down the stairs. They seemed to know they had to hush, and creaked every footstep just to irritate her. In a smaller house, it was a challenge to be discreet. A light was on in her piano room, which doubled as a study. Oh joy! Her mind was divided between bolting from the house, and offering an explanation. She decided to make her excuses before leaving. Less trouble in the long run.
She straightened her jacket and drew some breaths and fixed a calm expression. Then she opened the door. Henry snapped the laptop down, then fiddled with some papers on the desk. Some colour rose in his cheeks. Naomi stood stock still. She’d caught a glimpse of Henry’s screen. She was silent while her mind whirred. Henry spoke first.
‘I thought you were in bed, petal. I’m just going up myself.’ But he didn’t make a move. ‘What are you doing?’
She could have asked him the same question – what was he doing looking at Lorie’s Facebook page? He’d been busy tapping when she walked in. Was he in touch with Lorie? Surely not.
She found herself saying, ‘I’m just going for a drive. I like to be by myself sometimes. I need to think. Don’t worry about me, I’ve got my phone.’ She held it up to prove it.
She expected to be quizzed, the odd question at least. ‘Be careful then,’ was all he said, like it was perfectly normal to be leaving the house at midnight on Christmas Eve.
‘I will.’ Naomi backed out and closed the door and wrestled with the idea of returning to confront him. She got distracted. Through the lounge door, lights danced on the Christmas tree. Camilla had loaded a pile of presents beneath it. Uncle Jed always sent a box of expensive chocolates for the family.
Naomi hurried to the tree, dug out the chocolates, tore off the label and headed into the night with them. Distant bells were tolling twelve times as she let herself into the car with not a single thought of a virgin heaving out a baby in a stable long ago. She glanced at the stars in the bright sky, and her only concern was reaching Dan.
17
Salford Quays. Here she was again. She hadn’t stopped to wonder if Dan would be pleased to see her. She rolled into the car park and found a space under the glow of a black lamppost. She snatched the chocolates and got out of the car and felt the nerves as she glanced about her. Not the nauseating performance nerves she was used to, but a bubble of pure joy. She felt more alive than dead which was a new feeling and felt pretty good. That was her conclusion as she admired the Christmas lights that decorated the windows in a rainbow of shades. The water was calm and still, unlike her heart. The air carried a smoky scent as well as the sound of distant music.
She trotted to the entrance, tapped the number on the keypad and let herself into the building and took the stone stairs in dainty bounces. Outside the flat door, she hesitated for a second to calm herself. Then she knocked three times. For the few seconds it took to detect footsteps, she couldn’t keep still.
‘Hello?’ Dan’s voice behind the door. Guarded. Sensible.
‘Dan, it’s me.’
Locks were being unbolted, chains unzipped. Dan opened the door and the surprise coloured his cheeks. He said nothing then. He lunged forward and pulled her inside and closed the door.
‘Hi,’ she said, breaking into a smile.
‘I can’t believe you’re here.’ His feet were bare. He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved plain black top and a very sexy grin. He needed a shave and a haircut, which only added to the appeal. He stood in front of her, tall, broad-shouldered, his gaze wandering all over her face. ‘What are you doing here, Naomi?’
Without waiting for an answer he pulled her to him and secured her in his arms. She tucked her head beneath his chin and laughed. ‘I needed help.’
‘What with?’
Naomi pulled back and held out the chocolates. ‘I can’t eat these by myself, can I?’
Dan laughed and took the box and unwrapped it. ‘Absolutely not.’
He took her hand and led her into the small sitting room. Naomi looked around the place. It was tidy, clean. No strewn shoes or magazines. No pots or mess around the sink. The only light was from the TV and from a miniature Christmas tree tipped with fibre optic lights which throbbed in the primary colours. They dropped down on the sofa side by side and Dan reached for the remote and switched off the TV, which dimmed the room and made it silent.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said. ‘Really. The best sight I’ve seen since I last saw you.’
She smiled. ‘You shouldn’t be alone at Christmas, Dan.’
He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t a choice. My family has fallen apart because of Nathan. It was inevitable that someone would be alone. I’d rather be living an honest life by myself than living a lie under my parents’ roof.’
‘Are you on speaking terms with your parents?’
‘Yeah. My mum rings all the time. They refuse to blame either of us. They don’t want to take sides, they just want things to be right between us all. But how can they be?’
‘I’m really sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise for Nathan’s behaviour.’
‘I’m not. I’m apologising for mine, Dan. For getting wrapped up with myself and not considering how this was hurting you too.’
Dan shook his head. ‘I’d probably have done the same thing in your position.’
‘I doubt it. I think I’ve been a bit depressed. I haven’t been sleeping well. I’ve had nightmares and struggled to keep control of my thoughts. It’s no excuse, but the whole thing has immobilised me.’
‘Have you seen anyone about the depression?’
She shook her head. ‘The only person who can help me is me. I’ve been hiding, really. I need to take control.’
‘I don’t blame you for anything.’ He took her hand again. ‘We couldn’t really have done anything differently. We’re survivors.’ His gaze strayed over her shoulder before his focus returned and he looked at her again. ‘As I see it, we have two choices now. We can be alone and miserable and allow this thing to wreck our lives, or we can pull together and try to support each other.’
‘It isn’t that simple.’
‘Why not?’ Dan asked.
‘I’m still married to your brother.’
‘And why is that?’
Naomi looked at Dan and couldn’t find an answer, so she let the silence speak.
Dan budged closer and stretched out his arm and ran his fingers down her back. She couldn’t have felt the heat of his hand through her clothes, but the movement generated warmth somehow. Naomi rotated her neck to face him. His fingers left her back and he took her face in one hand. ‘I never told you, but I didn’t sleep well at the cottage.’
‘Why?’
‘I was too aware of you, next door. I could almost see you through the keyhole. I’d check if you were alright. Sometimes you were snoring.’
‘I do not snore,’ she said.
‘Yes you do and I loved it. I loved knowing that you were out of it for a while. Every time you saw me, you were terrified. I was desperate to tell you that I’d never hurt you. Never. It isn’t too late to tell you that now.’
‘No.’
‘I’ve really missed you, Naomi. You’ve no idea.’
A path of light morphed into different shades on the wall behind him. She found herself inching closer. ‘I’ve missed you too.’
Dan’s face was shaded and was blurring as he drew closer, close enough to feel the heat of his breath. The gap was dwindling. His eyelids dropped and his lips parted.
‘Dan –’
‘Shh.’ His lips pressed against hers now and held still for a tender moment. Her eyelids folded and her head tilted to one side as Dan cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. His lips were full and soft; the movement slow and tentative as she followed his lead. She fastened her arms around his n
eck and his hands slid to her waist and his mouth demanded more, and she was ready. Under the spell of his kiss, she couldn’t measure time. It was Dan who pulled back first. He leant his forehead against hers and breathed.
‘Am I taking advantage?’ he asked.
‘No.’ Naomi opened her eyes and shifted back to look at him. She smiled and kissed him again then they settled back on the sofa hand in hand.
‘It’s the best present I’ve had, you coming here tonight. There’s no one on earth I’d rather be with.’
‘We don’t know each other very well,’ she said, getting an uneasy sense of déjà vu.
‘I’m not going to sit here and tell you I love you. I don’t know if it’s real love or infatuation, or a sense of protection because of our past. I can only tell you that I care about you a lot. You’re always with me, Naomi. It’s the best and worst feeling in the world.’
She examined him. ‘If we have a chance, Dan, I have to know the truth about everything. How you met Solomon. Why you met him. How that involved Nathan. Why you saved my life when you didn’t even know me. Why you didn’t go to the police. Why you kept me at the cottage without explaining what we were doing there. No secrets, OK? I have so many questions.’
‘Me too,’ Dan cut in. ‘But ladies first.’
<><><>
Henry was still in the study, swivelling in his office chair wondering what Naomi had seen. From her general expression and the way she’d frozen in the doorway, he guessed she knew. That’s why he hadn’t quizzed her when she said she was leaving. He couldn’t summon the presence of mind to say what he’d normally say, do what he’d normally do. In that moment, he’d forgotten how to be a parent.
Camilla knew nothing of the messages Henry had exchanged with Lorie. Over ten weeks, there had been four or five. Little snippets about this and that. She was sorry about what had happened, had hoped there were no hard feelings, had wished him well and thanked him for his kindness over many years. There was never any mention of Camilla. Maybe she realised that Henry wouldn’t involve Camilla. And she was right.
But always, there was the assumption that she was innocent of the crimes the police were once investigating – of being an accessory to attempted murder. And there was always the hint that Naomi and Dan Stone had concocted a plan to get revenge. ‘I don’t blame her’, she’d written one night in November, ‘What Nathan and I did was wrong. Nathan didn’t want to press charges because he thinks she needs medical help, not punishment.’
It did seem odd that the police had just suddenly dropped the case; even stranger that Naomi had seemed more resigned than surprised. Camilla had wanted to square up, to fight for justice and force the police into some action. Naomi didn’t want to hear from the police again. She wanted things to rest. There’d never been an adequate explanation really. Not about anything. It’s not in the public interest to pursue this case. What did that mean? In his weakest moments, Henry didn’t know what to make of it at all.
Tonight’s message was just two sentences. Wishing you a happy Christmas wherever you are. So Lorie knew about the house move. No surprise there, really. The final sentence disarmed him though: you’ve been like a father to me. Then three final words. Miss you. Lorie.
Who wouldn’t respond? His previous replies had been a couple of words. He’d tried to ignore her and found he couldn’t. The fewer the words he took to respond, the less guilty he always felt. But tonight, well, it was Christmas. Henry sent her Christmas wishes in return and added that he missed her too, and realised as he wrote it that it was true.
Henry’s hands were hurting. He stood and flexed them and wriggled his fingers, then switched off the lamp. As he left the room, he had a flashback of that night in the garden, when he’d been in the study and had heard footsteps outside. He’d found a torch and splashed it around the garden of the old house. And he’d heard voices in the treehouse, and not only Naomi’s. He’d heard Nathan’s too.
Henry checked his watch and started up the arthritic stairs and hoped they wouldn’t wake Camilla. It was past one in the morning, and no sign of Naomi. Whatever was going on, someone had prompted her to leave the house. He suspected she was with Nathan again. He wouldn’t trouble her about it tomorrow, not on Christmas day. Camilla would have plans for the family to pretend to be whole and happy. But very soon he’d have to speak to Naomi about his concerns. He’d have to encourage her to confess to the truth. This thing had gone far enough.
<><><>
‘Tell me everything you know about Vincent Solomon.’ Naomi said, looking directly at Dan.
So Dan began. They chomped on chocolates while Dan toyed with her fingers and told her about the day that Solomon had appeared at the hospital, trembling and alone, with a gaping wound in his hand that he’d wrapped in a dark towel. How Solomon couldn’t bear the sight of blood. How Dan had calmed him, numbed the wound, stitched and dressed it, asked polite questions to distract him and smiled a lot to get him through the ordeal.
‘The same Solomon that flashed a gun around that cemetery and held it to my head?’
‘Bizarre, isn’t it?’ Dan said. ‘Either he was playacting about the blood, or he has a phobia. Either way, I remember feeling sorry for him and doing all I could to help.’
‘Then what?’
Dan yawned and rubbed his eyes. ‘Then a complete surprise. An envelope arrived at the hospital a few days later, addressed to me. There was a hundred pounds in it, in cash, plus an invitation for two to visit his nightclub and meet up for drinks as a thank you. The club was Rhapsody in Manchester. I’d heard of it and been there once. Nice place.’
‘He owns it?’
‘Yep. I couldn’t get over this letter, how odd it was. I took it home and asked Nathan what he thought. He thought that if this guy was flashing his money around we might as well accept the invitation. I had a bad feeling about it.’
Dan was looking at one corner of ceiling, seeing something from the past.
‘Go on.’
‘In hindsight, it was the worst decision of my entire life. I went with Nathan about a week later,’ Dan sighed out the last word and shook his head. ‘I hate talking about this.’
‘Keep going.’
‘We took the invitation and showed it to the muscle guys on the door. They gave us special treatment and escorted us to this private room where Vincent was. It was dark. No windows. A girl in a dress up to her knickers brought us drinks. Really expensive champagne and then whisky. We talked, he asked loads of questions about what we did and what our interests were, then he took us on a tour of the club and introduced us to a fleet of girls and told us they were all available.’
‘Charming.’
‘Yeah, but listen to the punchline.’
‘What?’
‘Lorie was one of them.’
‘Lorie? No way! She knew Solomon before she met Nathan?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why haven’t you told me this before?’
‘At the cottage? It wasn’t the time. I’ve been dying to tell you all this.’ He left a gap. Naomi didn’t fill it, so Dan went on. ‘Anyway, by this time, I wanted to leave. It wasn’t my scene at all. I was uncomfortable. Vincent was like a different person to the shaky guy I’d met at the hospital. He was flashing his assets, but I didn’t envy his money or his influence. I just wanted to get out of there. Nathan didn’t feel the same way of course, so I was stuck. I couldn’t leave him.’
‘When was this?’
‘Nearly two years ago. Anyway, Nathan and Vincent just clicked. Looking at it now, I think Vincent was everything that Nathan always aspired to be. Manipulative, powerful, intimidating, rich, clever, controlling. They’re two of a kind.’
‘Is that the only time you ever saw him?’
‘I wish. He invited us to his house a week later for games – first pool, then cards. I didn’t want to go. I was ready for making polite excuses and cutting ties. The vibes were bad. Nathan wouldn’t listen to me. He couldn’t wait to go.
We compromised and agreed to leave by eleven, whatever happened. Well, you’ve seen the house. Polished and immaculate, just like him. I bet you never saw the bar room with the pool table?’
She shook her head.
‘Full bar. Tall stools. Nathan thought he’d gone to heaven. It felt like hell to me. So, Vincent took us to the card room. Glass table –’
‘I’ve seen it.’
‘Course you have.’ Dan found another memory in the corner of the ceiling. ‘So we had a game of poker. I was hopeless, never played it. Nathan used to play at uni and he was good. Really good. Vincent was impressed. The Muscles were there, as Solomon calls them – those big lads he keeps like pets, as thick as pig crap, every one of them. No match for Vincent. That night, the poker came down to Vincent and Nathan, and neither would back down.’
Dan quietened. Naomi waited. Dan’s eyes were fixed on the coffee table now, but he wasn’t really looking at it.
‘So he wasn’t impressed with you then?’
‘Not at that point. Anyway, as it got close to eleven, I tried to give Nathan the eye, but he wasn’t looking at me.’
‘Did they play for money?’
‘No, chips. It was all a test. Vincent tests people before he nails them. So at the end of this particular poker game which Vincent won, I stood and put my jacket on and made the mistake of noticing the chess board on the bookcase and asking Vincent if he played. I was only trying to lighten the mood, make conversation and moves to leave. That’s when he started paying me some attention.’
Dan went quiet again. He stroked her hand absentmindedly. His eyes were far away. She knew that if she nudged him, he’d become Dan again. His expression had moulded itself into someone she didn’t know. She waited patiently for him to return.
Dan sighed and collected himself and said, ‘He challenged me to a game. The look in his eye, kind of half glee, half hunger. Like he was pouncing for the kill.’
‘I know exactly what you’re talking about.’
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