‘Listen,’ she said trying to walk past him. ‘I've not got time for this. I’m sorry, but I have to go. Adam will be back later, you can talk to him about it then.’
‘Oh, you've got time,’ he said and put his hand on her car door, moving his body so he was in front of her car, blocking her escape. ‘You're his fiancée, right? He told me about you.’
Suzie flinched, with moving in front of her, he was too close. She had specific personal boundaries and he was breaching them, purposely making full use of the fact that he was a good couple of feet taller. He was trying, and succeeding, in intimidating her. She took a step back.
‘Who are you?’ she asked.
‘Mark,’ he said and smiled. ‘Shall we go inside?’ he nodded to the studio. ‘Out of the cold?’
‘The studio's closed,’ Suzie said. ‘And I really need to go.’
‘Of course you do,’ Mark said, but he didn't move.
His jacket was leather. It went down to his knees with huge pockets on either side. He crossed his arms and it moaned with the effort.
‘I don't know anything about this,’ she went on. ‘It's got nothing to do with me.’
He smiled slightly and stayed still.
‘Whatever Adam bought from you, props, cameras, I don't know, lighting was it? Whatever it was, you'll have to take it up with him. I know nothing about it.’
There was a moment's silence before he gave a laugh.
‘Adam's not bought anything off me,’ he said after a while. ‘No love, you've got that wrong.’
He stepped forward and Suzie automatically stepped back. She mentally cursed herself for responding to his tactics.
‘You're getting married next year, aren't you?’
Suzie checked the busy street. A few pedestrians walked by, completely unaware of Suzie and this man at the side of the shop. The car park was in plain view and hidden at the same time. The studio was on a busy road, the small lane leading to the car park at the back of it almost hidden. Traffic zoomed past, no one noticing the hidden area where she stood. If she were to scream or shout for help would anyone hear her? No one knew she was there. Did she tell Rachel she was going to the studio? Did Rachel even know where the studio was?
‘Next June if I'm not mistaken,’ he was saying. ‘Adam's told me about it, says you want a lavish wedding, that it’s what you deserve. Big dress, big party,’ he splayed his fingers out to emphasise his words. ‘Well, all that costs money, love,’ he said and Suzie stared at him. ‘Money that your fiancé borrowed off me.’
‘Borrowed?’ Suzie's heart quickened. ‘You’re saying that Adam borrowed money from you?’
Mark nodded. ‘He was in a tight spot, needed the deposit for something. The venue perhaps? Hotel?’
Suzie thought for a moment, Adam hadn't mentioned booking anywhere; he'd left it all to Suzie. She was the one who'd made the bookings, provisionally paying a small deposit on a quirky boutique hotel in the city centre. She’d booked the entire first floor and the balance was due early in the new year.
‘Honeymoon then,’ Mark said, ‘perhaps it's a surprise romantic break for the two of you?’
They'd not discussed the honeymoon. Adam had talked of Thailand. He'd been several times and said that he wanted to take Suzie to Phuket, show her the three-wheeled Tuk Tuks, the orange-robed monks and glorious beaches with white sands and crystal blue sea. He’d talked of a resort he knew that was five stars, only the best in food and entertainment and he'd also said that they should fly business class as it was the only way to travel. Had Adam borrowed money and booked the honeymoon as a wedding present to her? It sounded like something he'd do, and perhaps he’d taken money from this man standing before her so it was kept a secret. So she wouldn't find out. But now, like the bank, he'd forgotten to make the repayment.
‘Romantic bugger, isn’t he?’ Mark asked, giving a laugh. ‘He said the money was for something special, I helped him out. Let him have it when he was in a tight spot, but the thing is, he was meant to meet me last night and make a repayment, only he didn't show.’
‘He's got caught up,’ Suzie said. ‘He's on location and got waylaid. He's due back imminently. I'll let him know you've been here.’
Mark waited a moment. ‘He owes me four grand,’ he said in a low voice and Suzie nodded.
‘And I need a payment of five hundred. Today.’
Suzie let out a laugh.
‘It's no joke, love,’ Mark said and his expression was serious. ‘I lend with strict instructions, strict rules. You borrow off me and you make repayments when I say or there's consequences.’
Suzie didn't like the way he said the word consequences. He stared at her a moment and then held up his hands.
‘My apologies,’ he said. ‘I can see that this has all come as a surprise to you, I'll leave it for today.’
He took a step back and Suzie let go of a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding.
‘You tell Adam to get in touch when he's back.’
Suzie nodded as she watched him go to his Jaguar.
‘Oh, and you tell him it's four and a half grand now,’
‘What?’ Suzie asked.
‘You heard me, love,’ he said. ‘Interest. My hands are tied, I can't go making special rules for one and not the other.’ He gave her a smile. ‘Don't worry about it. Just tell Adam and if he doesn't come back, I'll pop round and see you again. I need five hundred in the next few days, and if Adam can’t get it to me, then I’ll be coming back to see you.’
‘But…?’ Suzie started and he came over to her again. She walked back, until she was backed up against her car.
‘My number,’ he said handing her a card. ‘In case Adam shouldn't return and the debt passes over to you.’
‘Passes over to me?’ her voice was high, shrill.
‘You’re on Charles Street, aren’t you? One of the little flats over there?’
‘What?’ she said. ‘How do you know…?
‘I make it my business to know, love,’ he said and smiled. ‘See you in a few days, Suzie.’
She watched as he got in his car and slowly manoeuvred it out of the car park. As he was passing, he waved at her; a friendly gesture, as if they were old acquaintances and he’d not just made some kind of veiled threat.
Once in her own car she looked at the card he'd just give her. There was no company name, no address, just his name and a number.
A slow realisation brought with it a panic like cold chill. Her breath was a mist in front of her and her mouth went dry. That man knew who she was. He knew where she lived. That was no representative from a lending company or bank. There was nothing professional about the way he’d just spoken to her.
‘Fucking hell, Adam,’ she whispered. ‘A loan shark?’
14
Rachel
The house was magnificent, better than I remembered and I could see from Della’s face that she was impressed. It was a grade II listed building with exposed timber frames against the brilliant white, and had creeping vines around the doorway. It was something the owners had talked about at length yesterday; what we could and couldn't do to the interiors and what type of insurance we'd need. As nearly every building was a listed something or other in Chester, I'd heard it all before, but I was surprised to see it was news to Suzie. She’d made copious notes on paintwork and features. It was something I'd need to discuss with her. I'd got leaflets and websites I should tell her about, but not today.
We set up a makeshift office in the large orangery at the back of the property. The clients, Mrs Laydon and her daughter, had been pacified with an explanation of Della being a new member of staff and, after reassurance on how my broken ankle wouldn’t affect the party they’d left us to it. They’d gone out to get their nails done, leaving us in the house alone.
The gardens surrounded us and it was easy to instruct Della where to measure for the marquee as I could easily see what she was doing. I was on the phone to the company, discussing the layou
t and what flooring they had available, immersing myself in the distraction of concentrating on the logistics when Suzie finally arrived. I’d sent her several texts asking where she was and when I heard the tap of her heels against the tiled floor, my heart quickened at the thought of what I had to ask her. I had no idea how I was going to raise the subject without dissolving into a mess, but I needed to know. I had to know exactly what the Twitter message said.
Because as I sat there, discussing coloured swags for chairs and Georgian style windows, I’d started to convince myself that I’d got the details of it wrong. I told myself that, okay, perhaps Phil was having an affair. He’d lied to me about going to London that morning, so perhaps he was going to meet his mistress. Perhaps he was sending messages on Twitter to meet up with his lover – I could just about deal with that. But what I couldn’t deal with, what I couldn’t accept, was him being involved with what I saw at the retail park. Phil just wouldn’t do that. I was struggling to associate Phil with driving at someone and leaving them on the ground. I needed Suzie to tell me that I’d got that part wrong. The time, the day, wasn’t what I thought. And his train ticket kept on coming back to me, I held onto that like a life raft. I needed Suzie to tell me the dates were mixed up. Phil could be having an affair, but he didn’t try to kill someone. I went to ask her why she was so late, but was taken aback by her expression. Her face was set, her mouth a tight line, her eyes anxious.
‘Adam’s not got back to me,’ she said by way of explanation. ‘He’s got caught up on some bloody job.’
She sat on the flowered sofa opposite me, her arms and legs crossed, her oversize handbag on her knee.
‘I’ll strangle him when he gets home.’ She looked up then as if she’d caught herself out. ‘Sorry, sorry.’ She shook her head. ‘How are you? I got your texts so I knew you weren’t in dire straits otherwise I’d have been straight over. Is it okay?’ She looked to my cast. ‘Has it been alright this morning? I know you said that you’re fine, but are you? Really?’
I nodded. ‘Just booked the marquee,’ I told her. ‘They’ve thrown in the heaters for free and I’m just about to sort out the seating, lighting and decor. I’ve called Jennifer, the lady from the catering college and she’s available.’
Suzie held up her hands. ‘Oh, Rachel, you’re amazing! I half expected you to be in bed, not here, doing this. I’m so, so sorry that you’ve had to come here alone, well, without me. And look,’ she sighed. ‘You’re so on top of it all. I have one call from the bank and it creates all sorts of problems, yet you’ve got a broken ankle and you don’t even break a sweat! I’m so sorry.’ She took a moment and saw Della outside, going over her measurements. ‘However, I have rung the prop place and they’re expecting me this afternoon. I’ve sorted out the van hire so I can do that.’
I went to say something about taking Della but she stopped me.
‘I’ll be fine going alone, really. I’ve been before when dressing studio shoots and besides, I need to make it up for being so late. If I do that this afternoon, and,’ she nodded to Della who was counting out her strides on the far side of the garden, ‘if I'm right in guessing that plod-along there is measuring up for the marquee, then we’ll be fine.’ She smiled tightly, ‘it’s just, I went to the bank this morning and the stupid woman there wouldn’t… and then this man appears at the studio, and he tells me, well…’
She didn’t finish her sentence meaning it wasn’t as simple as she’d thought yesterday. Her bank card had been declined and then an urgent meeting at the bank; it didn’t look good but I wasn’t going to ask.
‘And I can’t get hold of Adam to tell him, so that set me back,’ she gave a long sigh and watched Della. ‘He usually replies straight away. Must be out of signal and not even realised, silly sod!’
I’d heard enough from Suzie about how brilliant and good-looking Adam was, but aside from speaking to him on the phone, I’d never met him. It was ludicrous really, he was her fiancé, swept her off her feet, she had told me. She was engaged to him within six months of meeting him. She used words like ‘soul mate’ and ‘the one’ when talking about him, yet he never seemed to be around.
He always seemed to be working ‘on location’, a vague term that Suzie batted about whenever she spoke of him. I’d planned to invite them over for a dinner party, or at the very least a few drinks, but with work being so busy, and Phil spending so much time in London, it never seemed the right time. And besides, Adam’s work often took him away from her. His photography business required him to travel all over. She said it like it was glamorous but to me, it sounded like hard work. I didn't enjoy Phil being away. I hated the weighty responsibility of the house and children on top of running my business. I didn’t like to be on my own, rattling around in the evenings, scared of every sound and creak of the house. But Suzie, she seemed to relish Adam being away, as if it gave an air of freedom to their relationship. A breezy flexibility.
I didn’t see her so much when she was with Carl, her ex-boyfriend, so I didn't know the ins and outs of their relationship, but I knew they’d been together a long time before he ended it. As I watched her talking about Adam’s absence and lack of communication so airily, I wondered if her attitude was to blame for that. Everyone likes to be needed after all.
‘It’s because this job is so last minute,’ Suzie was saying as she picked at a loose bit of thread on her pants. ‘I was meant to be doing admin today so I got caught up in that, and then there were some phone calls I had to make about my other shoots and of course, with Adam being delayed I had to sort out his commitments. But hopefully, that should all be sorted out by this evening and the rest of the week will be clear.’ She looked up at me and smiled brightly. ‘I'll be all yours. Totally. Complete focus tomorrow, promise.’
‘So everything is…?’
‘All sorted,’ she said. ‘I won’t be this late again. Full day tomorrow.’
I smiled back, and then, checked on Della. She was writing down her measurements in a small pad I’d given her. The sky had a dark, threatening look to it and although it wasn’t raining yet, it looked like it might at any moment. She’d be back with us soon; there was limited time for me to ask Suzie my questions without Della hearing.
Suzie followed my gaze. ‘So it was her on Twitter I take it?’ she asked. ‘She's the one who’s been on your laptop sending messages?’
I felt my stomach tighten. I took a moment, choosing my words carefully.
‘Those messages,’ I said. ‘Can you remember what they said?’
‘They were arranging a meet up for sex, weren’t they?’ Suzie answered. ‘I’m surprised she was on Twitter and not Tinder or Snapchat, isn’t that what the kids all use now?’ She folded her arms and watched Della with narrowed eyes. ‘And she should’ve been working for you then. Yesterday afternoon. You might have been paying her for meeting God knows who for champagne and sex.’
I had to look away; the impact of her words had struck me like a slap. Champagne and sex.
The map of Chester from Phil’s drawers was in my pocket, as was the screwed-up parking ticket. I could take them out and show them to Suzie, tell her what I thought I saw at the retail park, tell her about him lying to me, ask her what she would make of it.
‘But what exactly did they say?’ I pressed, still not meeting her stare. ‘Can you remember? Were they definitely for a time yesterday, or did we get the date wrong? The place wrong? Was it definitely at that hotel? On the retail park?’
Suzie was silent. There was a gust of wind from outside and I looked up to see Della struggling with the tape measure. It floated about her like a gymnast’s ribbon. I’d told her not to release the end from the spike in the ground until she’d retracted it, and yet here she was, fighting against the length of it as it whipped about her.
‘It was for yesterday,’ Suzie said slowly. ‘It was for a meeting at 2pm. At the hotel on the retail park.’
I nodded.
‘But you know that,’ she went
on, ‘we saw that message together.’
She paused for a moment and we both watched Della struggle with the winding handle on the open frame tape measure. Another gust of wind took the dangling tape up and Della gave a little shriek in shock. She looked up then, caught us watching and laughed. I smiled back.
‘It wasn’t her,’ Suzie said. ‘Can’t be, otherwise you’d be telling me how you gave her a warning. Giving me a heads-up if she was going to be sulking. You wouldn’t both be laughing because she can’t use a tape measure.’
I stayed looking outside and heard Suzie shift in her seat.
‘Rachel?’ she asked quietly. ‘Was it Phil? You know you can tell me. You can tell me anything.’
Every muscle in my body contracted.
‘Rachel?’
A few drops of rain fell and Della looked up to the open sky.
‘I'm here, is all I'm saying,’ she went on. ‘Yesterday, at the hospital, before Phil came, you were trying to tell me something. Did you see him at the hotel? If you want to talk, Rach, you can. When I found out about Carl it cut me up, so I know what you’re going through. You can tell me who he was with, what you saw…’
Phil’s black BMW.
‘I could come over,’ Suzie went on. ‘After I've got the props. Take you out, share a bottle of wine. We don’t have to talk about Phil if you don’t want to. If you just want to get away for a bit.’
A man being knocked over and left for dead. The screech of tyres. My husband’s face behind the wheel.
But he said it was stolen, I mentally screamed to myself, his car was stolen! He was in Crewe at the time. The police have his train ticket, if they thought it was Phil, they would have arrested him last night.
If He Wakes Page 11