Jonah grinned and started the engine. Christ! The judder that shot through her body must have been equivalent to standing on the San Andreas Fault. With her teeth rattling together and every inch of her flesh vibrating, Billie clung on to the straps and prayed. Then suddenly someone was punching her in the face and tearing her hair out at the same time. Immediately in front of her the nine-foot diameter of the propeller was revolving into infinity with all the unpitying force of a hurricane.
Pushed backwards into the harness, and still vibrating from head to toe, Billie feebly guessed that this was the ‘prop wash’. Nice to know the correct term, she thought. She’d need it for the solicitors later when she sued Jonah for assault. God! The Stearman was moving! If this was twenty miles an hour she was Claudia Schiffer!
She felt as though someone was pulling the flesh off her face and knotting it behind her neck. They bumped and skimmed across the grass, and despite the sun, the wind ripped icily through her T-shirt like a chain saw. Billie, unable to breathe normally, took little sucks of air and tried to acclimatise her body to hurtling through space towards the perimeter wire.
Once she’d got used to the motion, the experience wasn’t truly unpleasant. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and honestly, if she’d been wearing thermal underwear and mittens and someone would blow her nose, it was quite exhilarating. Like flying.
Tentatively, she let go of the rig, and tried a little wave. Her hand disappeared behind her head with the force of the wind. If you waved in the air travelling at supersonic speeds, she reckoned, you’d have to have biceps like Amie at least. She slid one leg up the rig and tried waving again. This time she was ready for the G force and lifted her arm high into the air.
Bloody hell! Were your elbows supposed to bend backwards? This wasn’t as easy as she’d first thought. Maybe she’d have a word with Estelle and advise her to cut her fingernails and have a go – oh, and Reuben! Reuben truly deserved to be tied to the top of a runaway plane! And Claire and Acrobatic Archie and oh, yes, Kieran bloody Squires! God, she could think of simply tons of people who deserved this treat far more than she did.
The Stearman was slowing down. Reluctantly, fairly sure that her neck was going to snap, she turned her head. Jonah, in the depths of the cockpit, was beaming and sticking up both his thumbs.
‘For God’s sake keep one hand on the steering wheel!’ Her words were snatched away and thrown into the air. ‘Are we stopping?’
They weren’t. They were turning. Slowly. And even more slowly, they bumped back towards the units.
‘Oh, well done, dear!’ Sylvia bobbled along beside the plane as it stopped. ‘Absolutely excellent!’
Billie, unbuckling herself with frozen fingers tried to smile. Her lips were in rictus. Oh, damn . . . she still had to get down. Perversely, she didn’t want Jonah to help her. Everyone was watching. She had to do it on her own. Holding onto the rig, casting a glance over her shoulder, she slithered from the harness, scrambled and slipped across the wing, and stepped backwards into the cockpit. She sat down with a thump. Her T-shirt was up round her ears, her ears were roaring, her nose had fallen off along with her fingers, and she felt like someone had dunked what remained of her in a bucket of ice.
Jonah leaned forward. ‘You OK?’
‘Fine . . .’ Because she was. She felt great. She simply couldn’t understand why Claire had made such a meal of it. Oh, yes she could – it was to get Jonah into bed . . .
Billie stood up shakily, hooked her leg over the side of the cockpit, and stepped onto the wing. The warehousers clapped as she wobbled towards the edge. It was all heady stuff.
As soon as Billie was on the ground, Sylvia enveloped her in a huge cuddle. ‘I’m so proud of you! And you don’t like planes at all, do you?’
Billie shook her head, but flying in the Stearman last autumn had been exhilarating and, to be honest, now she knew what to expect with the harness, if she was wrapped up and had ear plugs and nose clips and gloves, she wouldn’t mind doing it again. On the ground, of course.
‘Oh, and there’s someone to see you,’ Sylvia said. ‘Over there. I must say he’s rather dashing, my dear. Like James Bond. He arrived while you were on the plane. I told him to wait. He looked pretty tense to be honest. Not your boyfriend you’ve been keeping secret, is it?’
‘Not a chance.’ Billie pulled away from Sylvia’s maternal hug, laughing. Then: ‘Oh my God!’
Standing, smiling snakily outside her unit, was Reuben
Chapter Twenty-nine
‘What the hell do you want?’
Reuben pursed his lips, staring at her, shaking his head in utter disbelief. ‘Glasses, I think. I can’t believe what I’ve just seen. How often do you get up to this sort of caper?’
‘Every second Thursday – not that it’s any of your business. And I asked you what you wanted.’
‘So you did,’ Reuben smiled, obviously for the benefit of the warehousers out on the airstrip. It almost looked real. ‘I wanted to talk to you.’
Billie stared at a tower of purple loosestrife forcing its way up through a crack in the weedy concrete. She’d been afraid of this. Really afraid. He was going to marry Miranda. He was going to tell Miranda about Kieran. He was going to tell the world about Kieran. Nine months ago it wouldn’t have mattered at all. Now, it mattered a hell of a lot. He was going to destroy everything she’d built up. Sylvia and Zia and Isla and Jonah – oh especially Jonah – would find out all about her stupid, sordid past. They’d know how carefully she’d fabricated everything, and while they probably wouldn’t judge her morality, they’d surely have doubts about her honesty, wouldn’t they?
She glared at him. ‘Talk, then. But I’m not promising to listen.’
‘Can’t we go somewhere more private? Your office, perhaps?’ He still looked friendly. Like the reptile he was, she knew that was when he was at his most dangerous. Coiled, motionless, ready to sink in the fangs . . .
‘Billie!’ Zia called across as Jonah and the warehousers headed cheerfully towards the units from the airfield. ‘Get a move on, right! We’re having a committee meeting in Sylv’s and she’s done a Sunday roast for everyone.’
‘OK – I won’t be a sec.’ Billie couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a proper Sunday lunch. She pulled a face at Reuben. ‘Sorry, I don’t seem to be able to fit you in at the moment. And no, you’re not setting foot inside my warehouse, ever, so if we’ve got to talk it’ll be out here – but make it snappy.’
Reuben shifted his feet. ‘I’d still rather it was inside.’
‘Well, it isn’t going to be. And if it’s about you and Miranda being together, then I’m sure she’s told you I’m fine about it. I think she’s mad, but she’s a grown-up. I’ll just hang around and pick up the bits. If it’s about Caught Offside, or cabbying, or – or – Kieran, then I don’t want to know.’
‘It’s not any of those. And I’ll only take five minutes of your time. Truly. Trust me.’
‘God! I’d rather trust Gideon the Throat-Slitter!’
‘Who?’ Reuben looked puzzled.
‘Gideon the Throat-Slitter. I made him up. He sounded like the sort of bloke that I’d trust far more than you.’
‘Billie, are you quite sure you’re all right?’
‘I’ve never been better. But I’d be happier never to set eyes on you again. I really never want to talk to you ever again either. I want you to leave me alone. Not only am I missing the best Sunday lunch I’ll have had since I left Devon, but I’m free and I’m happy and I’ve just spent half an hour buckled on top of an aeroplane and –’
‘I was very impressed. That’s a hell of a scary thing to do. You’re a lady of many talents.’
‘Shut up!’
‘What? Oh, I didn’t mean Kieran Squires. That’s history isn’t it?’
‘Ancient. And – and everyone here knows about it, so you can’t blackmail me.’ Billie’s stomach rumbled. ‘And you’re still keeping me from my lunch.’
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‘Ah, yes.’ Reuben sniffed the air. ‘The full works if I’m not mistaken: beef, Yorkshire puddings, roast potatoes, cauliflower, peas, probably leeks, thick gravy . . .’
Billie turned to walk away. ‘And such a shame you’re not invited. Sylv’s an ace cook.’
‘And very daring – considering the leases say there’s no cooking to be done on the premises.’
‘What?’ She turned round. ‘Oh, yeah – I know. But Sylv’s different. It’s not commercial. She’s actually liv – How the hell did you know that?’
Reuben smiled. ‘Because I’ve read every minute word of the small print, Billie. That’s what I came to tell you. I’m the new owner of the warehouses.’
The ground almost came up and smacked her in the face. Her instinctive reaction was to punch Reuben on the nose; her second was to run away screaming. Luckily she opted for a third. ‘You’ve got to be joking! You? Don’t be mad – this is way out of your league! Anyway, I know who’s buying up the leases: Claire Sullivan!’
‘Never heard of the lady.’ Reuben was still smiling. ‘And whoever she is, and whatever she’s buying, it certainly isn’t these units. I signed all the paperwork last week and have spent this morning tying up a few loose ends with Simon Maynard. It’s taken far longer than I’d intended because of the variations in the leases. I’d hoped to take control way back at the beginning of the year.’
Billie whimpered. It couldn’t be true! It just couldn’t. . .
‘I haven’t told Miranda yet,’ Reuben continued. ‘I haven’t told anyone else – and I asked Maynard and Pollock not to reveal my identity until I could tell you myself. I thought I owed you that.’
‘Billie!’ Zia stuck his head out of the next-door unit. ‘Come on! Hurry up! Sylv’s dishing up, right!’
‘What?’ Billie looked blank. ‘Oh, right . . . I’ll be there in a minute.’ She couldn’t eat anything now. She felt too sick. Zia disappeared and Billie looked at Reuben again. ‘You can’t do this to me. I’ll – I’ll have you arrested for harassment!’
‘I’m not harassing you.’
‘You bloody are! I stayed with the taxis because I was grateful to you for giving me the job. I stayed longer than I should because I was ashamed and scared and thought you’d tell everyone! Then, when I’d been brave enough to leave, you still wouldn’t let go. Suddenly you wanted me to manage your poxy nightclub, and when I turned that down you buy – buy! – the place I’ve found on my own! And you don’t call that harassment? You’re sick! Really sick! You’re stalking me –’
‘I’ve told you before that I’m not.’ Reuben took a step towards her. The smile was demonic now. ‘And you don’t have to worry. My owning the leases here won’t make a scrap of difference to you – or your friends.’
‘Of course it bloody will!’ Billie sniffed back tears of anger. ‘You’ll have control over me again! I’ll never be free of you, will I? Never!’
‘Billie, all you have to do is what you’re told, make me welcome as your landlord from time to time, and you and your little no-hope pals will be able to carry on your pathetic businesses without any problems. Simple, huh?’
‘Go to hell!’ She started running towards Sylvia’s unit. ‘Go to hell, Reuben, and never come back!’
She hurtled into the incongruity of half a dozen people having a full-blown Sunday roast amongst parrots and palm trees.
‘Ah, there you are, dear,’ Sylvia smiled, getting to her feet. ‘I’ve dished yours up and put it to warm under the sun lamp.’
‘Thanks . . .’ Billie snuffled, forcing her way past the pretend waterfall and trampling a monkey underfoot in her haste. Its plastic head shot off into the stratosphere. ‘Christ – sorry! I won’t be a minute, Sylv. I just need to use the loo . . .’
She belted into Sylvia’s bathroom, fought her way through the potted rainforest and slammed the door behind her. This must have been exactly how Jonah had felt being faced with Aerobatic Archie that day when he’d first flown the Stearman – high as a kite and then the person you hated most in all the world appearing and turning your dreams to dust. Oh God, it was a nightmare. She’d have to leave now. She couldn’t stay here with Sylvia and Zia and Isla and the Guspers because Reuben would tell them the truth about her and, worse still, have a reason for being there. All the time. But she couldn’t leave either, could she? Because she had to stay to make sure the others were all right. Without her, Reuben wouldn’t give a damn about the rest of the warehousers. Zi-Zi’s and Guspers and Sylvia would all be out on their ears with nowhere to go.
‘Billie?’ Jonah’s voice echoed from the other side of the door. ‘Are you all right?’
Billie snatched a tissue from the rainbow box on the windowsill, sniffed into it, and opened the door. ‘I’m fine. Don’t spoil your meal for me.’
‘Sylvia’s put mine under the sun lamp as well.’ Jonah walked in and closed the door behind him. He parted a fern. ‘And I’m not prying or anything, but I couldn’t help noticing your visitor, and, well . . .’
‘My visitor,’ Billie sniffed, ‘has just done to me what your ex-wife has done to you.’ She watched various emotions flicker across Jonah’s face and knew that maybe she should have phrased it differently. ‘No, what I mean is, he’s a bastard.’
Jonah nodded slowly. ‘Right. Not an ex-lover, then? Or a current?’
‘No, thank goodness. He’s my ex-boss.’
‘Oh, right. The one you were hurling things at in the shed last year?’
‘The same. Oh, and there’s an added bit, too. He’s Miranda’s man.’
Jonah was now looking even more perplexed. Billie sighed and perched on the edge of the avocado lavatory seat with her feet resting on a tub of hostas. ‘It’s very complicated.’
Jonah leaned against the door. ‘So I gathered.’
‘Look, you know you said that the Aviation Incs said you could go ahead with the air show because they weren’t selling up until September?’
He nodded.
‘And yet we’d all had letters saying that our warehouse leases would be sold at the end of last year and they weren’t?
Another nod.
‘Well,’ Billie exhaled, ‘that’s not because Claire and Aerobatic Archie have messed up their dates. It’s because the airfield and the unit leases are being bought separately. By different people.’
‘Ah – right . . . No, sorry. I’m still not with you.’
Billie ran her fingers through her wind-blown hair. It was so tangled that they caught fast. She tugged them out again. Now she probably looked like Ken Dodd. ‘He – my visitor – my ex-employer on the taxis and Miranda’s lover – Reuben Wainwright – has just told me that he’s the new owner of the units.’
‘And that’s a problem?’ Jonah frowned. ‘I’m sorry to be obtuse, and I know you don’t like the man, but –’
‘It’s the biggest problem in the world. The man’s a serial stalker. He’s only doing it to keep tabs on me. He’s –’
‘Whoa. Slow down a bit. Let me get my head round all this. This – um – Wainwright bloke – your ex-boss – he’s Miranda’s boyfriend?’
Billie nodded.
‘That’s a bit of a bugger. Barnaby really likes her. I don’t think he knows that she’s spoken for.’
‘Christ!’ Billie yanked at another tissue. ‘We’re not discussing Miranda’s love life! We’re discussing my survival.’
‘Yeah, sorry.’ Jonah looked contrite. ‘I just wanted to get things clear. So, Miranda’s man is after you?’
‘No! Yes! Well, not in the way you think. Not because he likes me, but because he doesn’t.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Jonah shifted his position against the door. ‘I think I’d rather be asked to explain the theory of relativity. So, this bloke hates you, and yet he follows you about? Right? So either you go to the police or I beat him to a pulp.’
‘You can’t!’ Billie wailed. ‘I can’t! He hasn’t actually done anything! I mean, employing me on the tax
is, and then offering me other work when I left, and now buying up my lease here isn’t illegal, is it?’
‘Probably not. Definitely not. He sounds more benefactor than molester. I don’t think the police would be remotely interested. But I still don’t see –’
Billie sighed heavily. ‘No, I know you don’t. And I can’t explain. It’s just that he has this hold over me – I can’t tell you what – and I thought I was free of him, but I don’t think I ever will be.’
Jonah stared at the hostas reflectively, then rubbed his eyes. ‘Yeah, I see what you mean about us being in the same position. But don’t jump the gun. This guy – whatever his motives – might be on the level. He may well turn out to be a perfectly normal landlord who you’ll never see as long as the rent’s paid on time.’
‘Crap! If he wanted to buy warehouse there are about three million industrial estates that would bring in more money than this place!’
Jonah exhaled. ‘True . . . Still, if you think about it positively, at least it means that your tenure is safe here, doesn’t it? Better the devil you know and all that. This Wainwright bloke is probably just going to run the units as they’ve always been run. He’s not going to chuck you out. And that’s a damn sight better than thinking Claire and Antony are aiming to turn you into a theme park.’
‘Yes, I know, but . . .’ She buried her head in her hands. ‘God, you don’t know what he’s capable of. How really nasty he can be. He fools everyone.’
Jonah moved away from the door towards her. For a moment she thought he was going to hug her but he seemed to have second thoughts and turned his attention to a rubber plant. She wasn’t sure whether to be ’annoyed, relieved, or jealous.
‘Billie, it may be grandmother and eggs, but this man would have no hold over you at all if you told everyone yourself what it is he knows that you’re so scared about.
She sorted out the convolutions and shook her head. ‘Never! I couldn’t! Not now – it’s too late. Anyway, it’s more than that. It started off with him knowing – and now it’s got to him controlling . . . God, you just don’t understand, do you?’
Walking on Air Page 31