“Floriton Hall. My father gave me a whisky. I shouldn’t have driven back, but I couldn’t stay there.”
Dalton felt a rush of relief this wasn’t about him. At least he didn’t think so, mostly because Noah hadn’t yet hit him. “What’s wrong?”
Noah didn’t answer. Shit, are we back to the long silences?
“Is this about Paris?” Dalton asked.
“It’s about everything.” Noah clenched his fists.
“You’re worrying me now, pal. Sit down.” Dalton pushed Noah onto the couch.
“It’s going to be in the papers tomorrow,” Noah whispered.
“What?”
“Natalia’s been found.”
Dalton gasped. “Oh my God. Alive?”
Noah shook his head. “Remember the Leopold Road killers? Natalia was buried in an allotment. That’s why she wasn’t found. Denise North made a deathbed confession.”
Dalton sat at his side. “Christ, Noah. After all this time.”
“Yeah.”
Dalton swallowed the lump in his throat. “Well, at least you know now. So where’s Ash?”
Noah sighed. “Ash had a call last night telling her that her mother was very ill and wanted to see her. I was going to leave with her but she told me I couldn’t meet her mother.”
“Couldn’t?”
“First she said she didn’t want me to see her and then she said I couldn’t.” Noah straightened and then rose to his feet. “Couldn’t. Why the hell couldn’t I see her?”
“Well, if she was dying, that’s understandable.”
“Ash chartered a fucking private jet to get back here fast.”
Dalton gulped. “A private jet? How the hell could she afford that?”
“I don’t think she can,” Noah snapped, and then took a deep breath. “One of the gardens Ash worked on was in Leopold Road.”
“Yeah, it was one of seven sites. That’s what the company she works for does, isn’t it? Convert unwanted, derelict sites into gardens.”
Noah paced across the room. “Ash is told her mother is dying. She has to get back quickly. Denise North is dying and wants to make a deathbed confession. Am I forcing jigsaw pieces into places here?” He turned to stare at Dalton. “What if Ash is Denise North’s daughter?”
The words took awhile to register, and when they did, Dalton found himself speechless. Noah stood, waiting for him to say something.
“No, no, no.” Dalton shook his head. “Don’t go down that path. Ash’s name isn’t North.”
“So she changed her name.”
Dalton stood up. “Come on, Noah.”
Noah gave a grim smile. “Remember you could find virtually nothing about her on the internet?”
“You’re not thinking straight.”
“Right age.”
“Christ.”
“Ash had abusive parents.”
“A lot of people do.” Dalton grew more worried by the second, not because he thought Noah was right, but because he thought he was losing his mind. “Have you actually asked her?”
“I don’t have her fucking number. You wrecked my phone. Remember?”
“There’s a new one charging in the kitchen.”
Noah rushed out and a few minutes later came back. “She’s not answering.”
“Probably because she’s sitting at the bedside of her sick mother.”
“Maybe.”
Dalton sensed Noah’s hesitation and leapt on it. “No maybes about it. Just because Ash came home to see her mother and she happened to have worked on Leopold Road does not mean she’s the North’s daughter. Send her a text and tell her you’re thinking of her and to give you a call when she can. If she’s sitting in intensive care, holding her dying mother’s hand, you’re going to feel so bad for even thinking any of this. Ash is the best thing to happen to you since—well, you’ve changed. Don’t let her slip through your fingers.”
Noah closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders. He opened his eyes and stared at Dalton. “You’re probably right. I was just so pissed off at her for not wanting me with her. She told me to stay and take the photos. I lost my temper. Christ, the moment she actually needed me more than I needed her, and I fucked it up. I don’t blame her for not wanting to speak to me. I’ll text her. I can send flowers to her house.”
“She might not be there. Where does her mother live?”
Noah ran his fingers through his hair. “I have no idea.” He took a deep breath. “Do me a favor, Dalton. Don’t tell Ilya about any of this. I know I’m acting crazy.”
“Why would I tell—?”
“Do me another favor. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Dalton opened his mouth and shut it again. Noah stared at him, his face blank and Dalton sagged. He was relieved Noah knew. Saved him having to find the right words.
“How did you find out?”
“The call log on your phone. How long has it been going on?”
Oh shit, maybe he doesn’t know. Dalton shifted uneasily on the couch. “Ilya offered me money if I gave up my job to come and live with you.”
Noah’s jaw twitched.
“I didn’t do it just for the money. I was sick of my job, I wanted to write fulltime and I thought I could help you.”
“Ilya’s paying your rent?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t suppose you had much to report. Noah didn’t get up today. Noah ate an egg. Noah took a piss.” He slumped on the couch. “Until Ash.” He furrowed his brow and Dalton could see him doing the sums. “Oh God, don’t tell me that.” He leapt to his feet and paced. “Don’t fucking tell me Ilya fixed me up with Ash.”
“You left that wedding talking about her. She was the first woman you’ve had an interest in since you came out of the hospital. The first interest you’ve had in anything.”
Noah stopped pacing and stared at him in fury. “Is that why you dragged me to that fucking club, because you knew she’d be there?”
“Ilya thought she’d be good for you. Something to cheer you up. I paid Kay to make sure Ash came to the club. Then when it seemed as if you liked Ash too much, Ilya wanted the relationship broken. I paid Kay to hide Ash’s passport.”
Noah clenched his fists. “You fucking bastard.”
He leapt across the room and Dalton threw himself backward over the couch and scrambled away. “Listen. I changed my mind. I decided I wasn’t going to lie to you anymore and I told Kay to give the passport back, but she had her own agenda and it took some maneuvering to get hold of the thing.”
Dalton pushed himself upright and backed away as Noah came toward him. “I drove Ash to St. Pancras and put her on the train. I know she makes you happy. I told Ilya I wouldn’t be involved anymore, and he threatened to tell you what I’d been doing. All he cares about at the moment is you going to this ball on Saturday and Ash not going.”
Noah stumbled to a halt and groaned. “He’s a fucking dick.” Then he looked straight at Dalton. “And so are you.”
* * * * *
Ash didn’t think she’d sleep but she did only to wake up choking, tears sliding down her face. She reached for Noah, touched cold sheets and then cried again. When she didn’t seem able to stop, Ash stood under a cold shower until she snapped out of it. What had she told Noah? To make yourself happy, try to make someone else happy. Nothing could bring back Noah’s sister, but Ash could help him fight his personal demons.
She checked out of the hotel before it was light, bought three newspapers that had a picture of Natalia on the front page and caught a train to Leatherhead. The inside pages were full of pictures of a smiling Natalia and details of Noah’s family, and Ash couldn’t bear to read those sections. She was disappointed, though not surprised, that the papers all reported Denise North would only tell her daughter where the eighth victim was buried. So who’d blabbed? The police? Someone at Rampton?
The press didn’t yet have Ash’s name, but they did have the one given to her when s
he’d been taken into the care of the social services, Sally Beauman. Before she’d been put with a foster family, she had a new name and new documents to protect her and to prevent corrupt foster parents from selling stories about a minor. No such protection existed now. The Sun had devoted several inches to her. They’d worked out how old Ash had been when Natalia had been killed, and printed her age. They’d even found a school photograph and ringed her face. Anyone know where she is? What she’s doing? There were quotes from foster families who’d looked after her. Quiet. Moody. Never played with other children. That was because the other children bullied her. Safer to stay by herself, amuse herself, talk to herself. The tone of the column made Ash squirm, but she was a woman who still had a life and there was one who didn’t. And if I hadn’t stolen that book, Natalia would still be alive.
The Daily Mail added the detail that Jane North had inherited her father’s money after he died. No point leaving it to his wife who was in prison for life. Ash hadn’t known until she was twenty-one how much money she had. Wise investment by her legal guardian, a lawyer she’d met twice, had added to the total, and Ash remembered when he’d given her the news, how she’d run from his office and thrown up in the bathroom. The paper speculated that the anonymous donation of money to the families of the victims received six years ago was from Jane North. They were right.
* * * * *
Ash caught a taxi from Leatherhead station to Headley Court. The converted Elizabethan farmhouse was out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees. Ash passed through one security check, but when she reached the main entrance, the door was still locked. She sat hunched up on the steps, hugging her knees.
According to what she’d read on the internet, Dave was likely to have been moved from the hospital in Birmingham down to this rehabilitation facility. Maybe Noah had been here too. She didn’t expect it to be easy to worm information out of anyone. Even so, Ash figured she had a better chance in person than on the phone and hoped they could send a message to Dave if nothing else.
When the door finally opened, she pushed herself up to face a young man in an army uniform. His badge said Corporal Burton.
“Been camping on the doorstep?” he asked.
“I should have checked what time you opened.”
He smiled at her. “Have you come to see someone?”
Ash followed him inside. “Yes and no.”
He walked stiffly to the reception desk and sat behind it. Ash wondered if he’d been injured in combat. Stupid, of course he has.
“Take a seat.” He gestured to a chair.
Ash sat. How was she supposed to explain this horrible mess? She opened her mouth and a lump in her throat stopped up her words.
“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “Take your time. We’re here to help. Has someone you know been injured?”
Ash dragged air into her lungs. “Yes, and he has PTSD.”
“Ah. So he’s here?”
“No. I don’t know if he ever came here. He was a civilian photographer in Helmand and there were two soldiers with him but they were captured by the Behnam.” The words bubbled out of her now. “There was a rescue attempt, one guy died and the other nearly died, but Noah saved him. The soldier who died was called Tommy. Dave was the name of the one who survived. He lost his legs. It’s him I’m trying to find.”
“You know how many men we have come through here who’ve lost legs? A first name’s not much to go on. Do you know his regiment, rank?”
“No.”
“The date?”
Ash’s shoulders dropped. “Seven months ago, but I don’t know the exact date.”
“I might be able to find out, but you know I can’t divulge anyone’s address or even give you their phone number.”
“I thought maybe you could call them and ask if they’d see me.”
He smiled. “You did, did you?”
“I have to help Noah. Something bad happened out there that he told me about and I think only Dave can put it right.”
He stared at her for a moment and then nodded. “What’s Noah’s surname?”
“Golitsin.”
He frowned. “Is that the same—?”
“Yes. His sister was murdered. They just found her body.”
“What’s your relationship to Noah?” His tone had sharpened and Ash guessed what he was thinking.
“I’m not with the press.”
His mouth tightened. He didn’t believe her.
“I’m telling the truth,” she said. “Until yesterday, I was Noah’s girlfriend.”
“What happened yesterday to change that?”
She took a deep breath. “I need you to trust me so I’m trusting you not to tell anyone this. Noah doesn’t know either, not yet anyway, though he will soon. I found out it was my mother who killed his sister.”
He gasped. “Fucking—excuse me.”
Ash tightened her fingers around the edge of the seat. “My name was Jane North. Social services changed it to Sally Beauman and I changed it to Ash Elleston. Please help me to help Noah.”
“Wait here.”
The corporal pushed himself up and disappeared through a side door. Ash sighed. Her identity might be a secret now, but it probably wouldn’t remain that way for much longer.
It was fifteen minutes before the corporal came back, but he had a smile on his face and a piece of paper in his hand. “Dave’s last name is Miller. He said come when you like.”
Ash leapt to her feet.
“He also said, it’s about time.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Noah felt as if he’d taken a couple steps forward only to slide a hundred feet back. He’d been betrayed by Ilya, Dalton, to a certain extent by his father’s silence about this bloody illness, by Ash’s lack of communication and now by his cock. He lay in bed with his hand unenthusiastically pumping an unresponsive organ until the expression “flogging a dead horse” came to mind and he gave up in disgust.
As pissed off as he was with Dalton, Noah had become used to him being around. He hadn’t forgotten how patient Dalton had been when he’d come out of the hospital. Noah knew he’d probably been discharged too soon—physically fine, mentally not fine, but the guilt he felt surrounded by guys who were so much worse off than him had become unbearable.
Dalton had pushed him to wash, to get dressed, to eat. Everyone tiptoed around him while Noah sank into a deeper depression. Dalton cooked food he’d specifically asked for and then Noah didn’t feel like eating it. He went for long periods not speaking. He said what the psychiatrist wanted to hear until the effort of pretending grew too much for him and he turned to an alternative. A visit to the wrong sort of club, a chat with Ronan and Noah thought—why not? Maybe a different kind of pain would help him escape from the overwhelming weight of guilt. Except Ronan’s whip hadn’t worked either.
Noah got out of bed and went into the bathroom. Last night, he’d left message after message on Ash’s phone and she’d not called him. He imagined her sitting in some hospital next to a mother who’d treated her like shit, and he wanted to be there for her—except she wouldn’t fucking let him. Noah was so tense, his muscles ached. Even his damn teeth hurt.
He stepped into the shower, stood under hot water and still felt chilled. It pissed him off so much that Ash made it her life’s work to help others and yet didn’t want to accept help herself. Only didn’t he understand that mindset? Noah hadn’t wanted help either, though unlike Ash, he hadn’t been good at offering it in the first place. Maybe she had her own form of post-traumatic stress disorder dating all the way back to her childhood. Noah ground his teeth at the thought of a father who’d deliberately snap his kid’s arm. That was probably why Ash had said she didn’t want kids. He hadn’t dared to talk to her about that because he wanted kids.
He wanted Ash more.
Noah could feel himself sliding back into misery and he didn’t like it. What had Ash said to him? To make himself feel happy, he needed to make someone else
happy.
He wanted to be sitting outside waiting when Ash walked away from her mother.
He wanted to kiss Ash and make her feel better.
He wanted to tell her about his father, about his sister, about his bastard of a brother.
Noah needed her.
Why hadn’t she called him?
When he came out of his bedroom, Dalton was piling boxes in the hall.
Noah frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Moving out.”
“Did I ask you to?”
Dalton blinked. “No. I thought you’d want me to go.”
“Don’t. I haven’t thought of a way of extracting my revenge yet, but I will. I don’t want to have to go looking for you. It’s too inconvenient. You know how lazy I am.”
Dalton cracked a smile. “I can’t afford to pay rent until I get a job.”
“How’s the novel going?”
“Really well.”
“Then keep writing it.” Noah shrugged. “Ilya can continue paying your rent. You can feed me and I’ll tell you what to feed him.”
Noah turned, but his attention was snagged by the intercom hanging off the wall by the door. “What happened to the intercom?”
“I disconnected it. I went out for bread and when I got back, the press was gathering on the doorstep. The papers are in the kitchen. I bought all of them. I figured you might want to see for yourself Ash isn’t involved in this.”
“I wish I could get in touch with her. She’s still not answering her phone.”
“Maybe one of her housemates knows where she is.”
“Do you have their number?”
“Only Kay’s and she’s not there anymore. They threw her out when they discovered she’d taken Ash’s passport.” Dalton shifted uncomfortably. “Sure you want me to stay?”
“Yes.” Because without Dalton, Noah feared he’d slide even faster.
He read the papers while he ate breakfast and felt curiously detached from the rehashing of what happened all those years ago. There was a piece in one of the papers querying the whereabouts of the North’s daughter, and despite one half of his head telling him it wasn’t Ash, the other half kept saying—what if it is?
An Ordinary Girl Page 25