When Noah wrenched his hand free, Ash sagged.
She glanced between Mike and Noah. “I don’t know who’s in there but whoever it is, it’s not my boyfriend.”
Mike frowned. “I caught him following me. He said he thought you were two-timing him.” He smirked. “He had a bit of an accident.”
A guy came into the hall holding a bag of frozen peas against his face. “Hello, Ash.”
Noah had been hoping for her not to recognize the man, but she rushed up and hugged him. Fuck.
Better if the guy she had her arms around had been short, fat and bald, but he was tall, thin and blond. Noah bristled.
“Oh Fred.” Ash said.
“I tried to call but your phone’s switched off,” the guy mumbled.
Ash put her hand on Fred’s shoulder. “Come upstairs.”
A cold sweat broke out across Noah’s back. What the fuck was she doing? Less than fifteen minutes ago, he’d been inside her, and now—
“You too.” Ash wrapped her hand around Noah’s clenched fist.
“Can I come as well?” Mike asked.
“No.” Ash glared at him.
Mike raised his eyebrows. “It was me he was following.”
“He’s disturbed,” Ash said. “I’ll explain later.”
The moment the door of her room closed with the three of them inside, she groaned.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Fred said. “It was all I could think of to say.”
Noah leaned against the door.
“Fred’s not my boyfriend,” Ash said.
“I was once,” Fred said.
“A long while ago and we both know it was a mistake.”
“I thought it would divert suspicion,” Fred said. “I didn’t expect you to turn up with a real boyfriend. Last time I spoke to you, you weren’t seeing anyone.”
Noah gaped at them. “What the hell’s going on?”
Ash started to unbutton her coat and then stopped. The blush sweeping over her face made Noah smile until he remembered he was annoyed.
“Sit down both of you,” Ash said. “I need to use the bathroom. Don’t say a word until I’m back. Things are complicated enough.”
When Fred moved toward the bed, Noah glared, and the guy changed direction to sit on the chair. Noah took off his jacket and settled on the blue duvet. He glanced around a very tidy room. Ash didn’t have much. A bed, a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, a blue chair and a bookcase. No fluffy toys or plants or knickknacks. It was a bit—stark. It worried him. Was there something about her he wasn’t seeing?
“I didn’t think she had a boyfriend, otherwise I wouldn’t have said it, sorry,” Fred muttered.
Noah kept quiet. Was he Ash’s boyfriend now? What else could he call himself?
Ash emerged in a floor-length blue dressing gown. She sat next to Noah and pressed her leg against his. “Spill it, Fred.”
Noah felt a measure of ease at her action. He’d been upset for nothing.
“Mike left work at five. Took money from a bank nearby and I followed him to an address in Tower Hamlets. Sixty-two Hedon Mount. It’s where his brother lives. Mike didn’t go into the house. His brother came to the door and handed him some cash. Couldn’t see how much. Mike caught a bus to Deptford. He went round the back of a car body repair shop on Woolwich Street into a men’s club. Ten minutes there and an expensive drink later for me, he caught a bus back to Greenwich. I got off after him. I thought I might as well come and see if you were in, but Mike knew I was following him and he slammed me up against a wall.”
“At which point you came up with your terrible excuse,” Ash said. “You’re really crap at this.”
Fred sagged and took the bag of peas from his face. “Yeah, well, I was in pain and remember I usually deal with insurance fraud.”
Ash sagged. “Sorry, Fred. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”
Noah still had no idea what was going on. Ash had persuaded this man to follow a guy she lived with? What the hell for?
“I did find out something though,” Fred said. “At this place in Deptford, The Club it’s called—how original is that?—Mike asked to speak to a man called Robbo. He’s a loan shark.” Fred stood and put his hand in his pocket. He pulled out a business card and gave it to Ash. “Not that it says that of course. Loan-sharking’s illegal and dangerous. Talk to Mike, okay?”
Ash sighed. “Thanks, Fred.”
“We’re done now, right? Can I bank the check?”
She nodded.
Christ. She’d paid this guy to follow a friend? That was wrong on so many levels.
Fred nodded to Noah. “’Night.”
After the door closed behind Fred, Noah took hold of Ash’s chin and turned her to face him. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I was worried about Mike. He’s constantly short of money for the bills we share. He has a good job working in IT for a law firm. It didn’t make sense.”
“So you paid a guy to follow him?”
“I couldn’t think of any other way to find out what was wrong. I asked Mike and he said he’d lost it gambling. He’s crap at cards, has no interest in horse racing. It just didn’t sound right.”
“But what does it have to do with you? Mike’s just a mate, right?”
“He’s always stressed about money. He buys the reduced stuff in the supermarket, he always makes up an excuse if we want to go out for a meal. We talked about the four of us going to Paris, but when chatting turned serious, Mike suddenly reversed on the idea. He pretends to be happy, but he’s not.”
This bloody happy business again. “That doesn’t justify spying on a friend,” Noah snapped. “He’s unhappy and you feel you have the right to know why? It’s his business not yours. If he’d wanted to share it with you, then he would have. Are you on a mission to help the fucking world? Still trying to fix me?”
Ash wrapped her arms around herself. “I know spying’s not nice, but I thought—”
Noah stood. “No, you didn’t think. If he owes money to a loan shark, that’s his business. What the hell can you do about it? He got into the mess himself and it’s up to him to get out of it.”
“I can help you both if you’d just—”
“Maybe he doesn’t want your fucking help. I fucking don’t.” Noah stormed out of the room.
He hated do-gooders. Stupid people who thought they could make everything right when they had no fucking idea what they were doing. He loathed and liked Ash in equal measure. He wanted to fuck some sense into her head, make her see she couldn’t fix everything, but the best thing to do was walk away. He didn’t need this sort of stress.
Noah knocked Ash’s housemate Kay over at the bottom of the stairs, though he did wonder if she’d taken a dive.
“Is there a fire?” Kay asked, holding out her hand to be helped up.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
She didn’t let go of his hand. “Ash does seem to send guys packing very quickly.” She smiled at him. “Have you ever considered modeling? The agency I’m with is fantastic.”
“Not interested.”
“You’re so gorgeous. They’d snap you up, I’m sure.”
Noah wrenched his hand free.
“Want to go and have a drink then?”
“No.” He yanked the door shut behind him.
* * * * *
Ash flinched when the door slammed. It had been a mistake to let Noah be there when she spoke to Fred, but she hadn’t wanted him to think Fred was her boyfriend. Didn’t matter now. She didn’t have one anyway. Although Ash thought Noah’s outburst had less to do with Mike than with himself. Ash had gotten the message. Leave me and my past the fuck alone.
She couldn’t bloody well leave things alone. She’d done that once and the result had been disaster. She retrieved her phone and dialed the number on the business card she’d been twisting in her fingers.
“Mr. Logan?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You don’t know me but yo
u know a friend of mine who came to see you tonight—Mike Burroughs.”
“Is that right?”
“I’d like to pay off his debt.”
“You would, would you?”
“How much does he owe?”
“At this moment, twenty-three thousand two hundred and fifty pounds.” No pause before he’d answered.
Ash winced, though it could have been worse. “Do you take checks?”
“No, and tomorrow the debt will be another fifty, plus another fifty the day after that.”
It made Ash grateful she’d never been desperate for money.
“If I bring you a check tonight for twenty-four thousand will you accept that in full payment?”
There was a long pause. “What’s your name?”
“Ash Elleston.”
“Ask for me at the door.”
She ended the call, ordered a cab and wrote the check before she dressed.
* * * * *
When Ash gave her name at the club, a bouncer patted her down before he led her along a corridor to a back room. Ash felt nervous but was determined not to show it. The man knocked, opened the door and gestured her in. Two guys sat, both smoking. The air was thick with fumes, and Ash smothered a cough.
“Mr. Logan?” she asked.
“That’s me,” said a white guy in a dark suit, sitting behind a desk.
“Would you mind showing me some form of identification?”Ash asked.
Logan’s eyes looked ready to pop out of his head, but the black man in the chair opposite laughed so hard he almost choked.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but you could be anybody,” she said.
“She’s right,” the black guy said.
Logan pulled out his wallet. “Driver’s license okay?”
“That would be fine, thank you,” Ash said.
She accepted the plastic card, confirmed the image and then took the check from her pocket.
“The amount just went up to twenty-five thousand,” Logan said.
Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. “No, it didn’t.” Ash put the check in front of him. “You’re going to give me a receipt, an acknowledgement that Mike’s debt no longer exists and that will be it. You’ll call and tell him the debt’s been cancelled, but not who paid it off.”
Logan tipped back his chair so he rested on the back legs. “I will, will I?”
“Please,” Ash added.
“Twenty-five thousand,” Logan said.
Ash exhaled. “We had a deal. By rights, this debt never has to be paid. What you’re doing is illegal. If Mike went to the police, you’d never get the money back.”
Logan’s chair slammed back onto the floor. “Going to the police is a bad idea.” There was a hard edge to his voice. “For you. For Burroughs and most of all for his brother.”
That wasn’t a surprise. Ash knew Mike had more sense than to use a loan shark. “Take the check, Mr. Logan, and write me a receipt,” she said in a steady voice, willing her legs to stop shaking.
The black guy doubled up with laughter.
“Can it, Bruno,” Logan snapped.
“You don’t need a receipt, sweetheart. I won’t let him forget this,” Bruno said. “Christ, you’ve got a pair of balls on you.”
Ash’s hand settled around the mobile in her pocket. Could she press 9-9-9 by feel?
“Lucky you’ve caught me in a generous mood.” Logan reached for the check. “This better not bounce.”
“It won’t,” Ash said.
He scribbled a few words on a scrap of paper and gave it her.
“Now please call Mike, put your phone on speaker and tell him the debt’s paid.”
Logan gave her an incredulous stare. “And what am I supposed to say when he asks who paid it? Santa Claus?”
“Tell him…a lottery winner paid off his own debt and paid another’s at random. Or say the guy had seen Mike here and fancied him or something.”
Logan picked up his phone. “Mikey, Mikey, Mikey.”
“Is something wrong?” Mike sounded anxious. “The money was all there. I checked.”
“This is your lucky day. The debt’s cancelled.”
Logan smiled at Ash. He reminded her of a shark. Lots of teeth, shiny black suit and mean.
“Cancelled?” Mike croaked.
“Lottery winner paid off his debt and chose a random punter to help out of trouble.”
“You’re joking,” Mike said.
“No, I’m quite serious. I have the check in my hand at this very moment.”
“Who? Can I thank them?”
“They wish to remain anonymous.”
“Wow. You’re sure the debt’s gone. I don’t want to get my legs broken for not turning up next week with a payment.”
Logan tsked. “What do you think we are? That debt is paid, but tell your brother he’s welcome to borrow another seventy grand whenever he likes.” He laughed and switched off the phone.
Seventy thousand? Good God.
“Did you know it wasn’t his debt?” Logan asked.
“I suspected it was his brother’s,” she said. “Do me a favor and refuse if he asks again.”
“That’s not the way I do business.”
No, she got that. He stood and Ash realized how tall he was, well over six feet. She put out her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Logan. I know you didn’t have to do this and I do appreciate it.”
He shook her hand and held on to it a little too long. “The pleasure was all mine. Mike’s a lucky man.”
Ash’s heart hammered until she was back in the taxi she’d paid to wait for her. Then all the way home, she thought about Noah.
* * * * *
By the time Noah got back to his flat, his self-righteous indignation on behalf of a guy he didn’t know had faded under regret that he’d fucked up yet again with a woman he wanted to know better. He still thought she was wrong to have spied on her housemate, even though her motive was borne out of concern. What the hell was she going to do about Mike’s debt? However much it was Noah doubted Ash had the money to help him. She worked a couple of ordinary jobs, shared a nice house, but her clothes were…basic. No jewelry, no massive TV and no car equaled no money.
Noah sat on his bed with his back to the wall. He’d made a mistake. He’d made this personal. He hadn’t listened to her. He’d asked questions and then interrupted when she’d answered. He sighed. He had no idea what she was going to do with the knowledge about Mike’s debt. Then a sudden thought struck him and he groaned. Fred had given her the loan shark’s card. Ash wouldn’t be stupid enough to go and see him, would she?
* * * * *
Dalton clutched the crumpled letter in his hand and rang the bell of the flat in Belgravia. He looked into the camera, and a moment later the door clicked to allow him in. He took the stairs two at time to the top floor. There was an elevator but it was one of those ancient, rusty, caged things that creaked and groaned, and Dalton didn’t trust it.
Ilya waited by the door, looking immaculate in pressed chinos and white shirt. “Come in.”
Ilya’s flat was a bit like a mini version of Floriton Hall, stuffed with old things that were probably worth a fortune and rugs Dalton tended to walk around rather than over. He followed Ilya through to a living room that looked about as comfortable as a museum. Dalton thought about sitting and didn’t.
“This is the letter.” Dalton handed it over.
He’d watched Noah crumple it up and use the envelope to give the memory stick to the photographer and not thought any more about it until he’d opened the glove box to find some gum. Not that he was going to reveal that nugget to Ilya. As far as Noah’s brother was concerned, Dalton had only just found out about it. Ilya could hardly expect him to steam open Noah’s mail.
The letter told Noah he’d been awarded the Queen’s Gallantry Medal for outstanding bravery whilst on photographic assignment in Afghanistan. Noah had said virtually nothing to Dalton about what happened over there, but the letter said Noah had saved t
he life of an injured soldier at great risk to his own safety. He’d used the soldier’s weapon to kill four members of the Behnam, saving the life of several soldiers and then kept the wounded man alive until help arrived.
And Noah had screwed the letter into a ball.
And Dalton should have never looked at it.
And he shouldn’t have told Ilya. But he had.
What Noah had done astounded him. Dalton would never have guessed he had it in him. He was proud of the stupid bastard.
“Fucking hell,” Ilya said. He slumped onto the couch. “He killed four men? Is that what’s the matter with him? But what choice did he have? If he hadn’t, he’d have been dead. A medal? That’s brilliant. Why the fuck did Noah screw up the letter?” He glared at Dalton as if it was his fault.
“Taking a wild guess, I’d say he doesn’t want the award.”
Ilya frowned. “Why the hell not?” He leaned back into the couch and smiled. “This is perfect. It legitimizes all this time not working. Sophia will understand his silence.” Ilya sighed. “He’s not a coward.”
Dalton’s jaw dropped. Is that what Ilya thought?
“We can announce this at our father’s birthday party. Noah will have no choice about accepting it then.”
Dalton fidgeted. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He wished he’d left the letter where he’d found it. Noah was going to know what he’d done. “I better put it back.” He held out his hand. There was a chance then that Noah would come to some other conclusion.
“I’ll keep it and respond on Noah’s behalf. They want him at Buckingham Palace next April to receive the honor. It will give Father something to look— Yep, this will be excellent news to announce at the party.”
Dalton should have known Ilya would ignore him. He rubbed the back of his neck, cursing himself for a fool. He didn’t like to admit it, but Ilya intimidated him. Not just by his physical presence, but his whole bearing.
“Now we know what Noah’s issue is, I wonder if I should tell the psychiatrist,” Ilya said.
“No,” Dalton snapped, and then gulped when Ilya glared. “The whole point is that Noah has to come to terms with what happened in his own time and in his own way. Better not to interfere.”
Actually, telling the psychiatrist had gone through Dalton’s mind, but if the doctor confronted Noah with this, Noah would guess the source of his betrayal.
An Ordinary Girl Page 13