All the Little Lies

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All the Little Lies Page 11

by Chris Curran


  ‘And, as I keep telling you the answer is no. I’d also like my original pictures back. So if that’s all, you can leave.’

  He sighed and stood, but when she stepped aside to let him pass he reached around her and tried to pull the door closed. Her heart gave one huge beat that seemed to make it jump into her throat, but her foot worked automatically to hold the door open. Her stomach lurched so much she swayed and had to lean on the wall.

  But he stood back, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘All right, it’s all right. I’ve learned my lesson.’ He smirked. ‘This time I only want to talk.’

  Shaking her head she held the door wide. ‘There’s no point. Now please will you go?’

  Instead of leaving he went back to sit on the bed, one foot drumming fast again. Although he was no less handsome, his face looked gaunt and there were dark shadows under his eyes. He coughed and began to speak, his voice sounding hoarse. ‘Please, Stella, I’m begging you.’ The look of despair in his eyes was shocking. ‘Just one more set of pictures. Six or seven, at most, and we’ll be fine.’

  Her stomach twisted with a different kind of fear. He tried the old charming smile, but his mouth quivered until he rubbed it with the back of his hand. A deep breath in which, horrifically, she thought she might have heard a sob. He patted the bed beside him. She stayed where she was, but closed the door.

  ‘You see.’ He seemed to choke on the words and had to start again. ‘You see, what I didn’t know when I met my contact was that he is part of a – well a syndicate I suppose you’d call it – quite a powerful group actually. And it was they who lent me the money I lost. Now he tells me the only way out is for you to produce another set of drawings – to show good faith.’

  Her knees felt so weak it was difficult to stay standing. He was still talking, his voice a flat monotone. ‘They know who you are, I’m afraid, and they are threatening us both now.’

  Her voice finally worked, although it sounded so clogged she hardly recognized it as her own. ‘Threatening us with what?’

  He stood up. ‘Nothing, it’s nothing, I’m sure. They’ll expose us as forgers, I suppose.’ He was beside her now, gripping her arm, and she hadn’t the strength to push him away. His eyes were dark pools in which she saw tiny distorted reflections of her face. ‘All you need to do is to give me half a dozen more and it will all be over. And I’ll pay you well, of course. Please, Stella.’

  She couldn’t believe this. There was a spear of pain in her chest as she tried to breath in enough air to get the words out. ‘Are you telling me I’m in real danger?’

  His face crumpled into so many tiny lines he suddenly looked like an old man. ‘I’m so sorry, Stella. I didn’t know the kind of people I was getting us mixed up with.’ He dropped a light kiss on her forehead, and she was amazed at herself for registering how good he smelled – how expensive – before she flinched away. ‘I promise you, everything will be fine, if you just do this one little thing.’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t think.’ The words, breathy and quavering, came out without her knowing she meant to speak.

  ‘OK. I’ll go now. But they want an answer soon. Please don’t let me down.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Eve

  Eve had arranged to meet Simon in London. She needed to know if he was aware of what Pamela had said about Ben’s accident. Alex was teaching that morning, so they went up on the train together. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t just email. ‘And what’s the urgency, anyway? It’s thirty years ago, so waiting a few weeks or even a few months won’t change anything. Why on earth did your dad tell you at a time like this?’

  Eve had no answer except that she needed to know now. After days of feeling tired and washed out she was suddenly so full of energy she couldn’t face sitting at home torturing herself with the thought that her mother might have ruined a man’s life. And she needed to see Simon’s face when she talked to him.

  He was busy at work and could only spare her a few minutes, so they’d agreed to meet near his offices. When they got off the train it was too early for her to go to the café. It was just round the corner from Foyles bookshop, so she decided to spend an hour browsing there while she waited. Alex said he’d come to Foyles when he finished his tutorials. Then they could go to lunch.

  Dipping into books while she waited helped to relax her, and when she arrived at the café Simon was already at a table. She was surprised to feel a pulse of pleasure when he looked up from his paper, smiled and waved at her. He was on his feet, pulling out a chair for her before she reached him, and their kiss seemed so natural she felt as if she had always known him.

  ‘I’m sorry I don’t have long today, but it’s lovely to see you again. Next time let’s make it dinner,’ he said.

  ‘I’d like that. Although we’ll need to put it off until the baby arrives.’

  He glanced at her bump. ‘Do you know what it is?’

  ‘A girl. We’re going to call her Ivy.’

  A huge grin that made him look very young. ‘Well whatever you discover about your parentage I shall still consider myself her uncle.’ His smile was infectious and when he clapped his hands and said, ‘Right, coffees all round, is it?’ she wished this was just a friendly get-together.

  Yet again she found herself studying him as he stood at the counter. He was about Alex’s height, but looked bigger because he had broad shoulders. When he came back he caught her eye and raised one eyebrow in a silent query. And a flush of heat rose in her cheeks. To cover her embarrassment she laughed.

  ‘I’m sorry I keep staring at you. It’s just that I never imagined having a brother.’

  He pushed a cup towards her and glanced at his watch.

  She squeezed her hands together. ‘I know you don’t have time for chit-chat, so I’ll just blurt out what I came to ask you. It’s about what your mother says happened the night when Stella came to your house.’

  Simon stirred a sachet of sugar into his coffee. ‘But she wasn’t there. I imagine Dad told Stella to come when the coast was clear. They weren’t bothered about the teenager, of course.’ He tapped his own chest. ‘He wasn’t expected to notice anything.’ He tossed the crumpled sugar sachet onto the table.

  Eve sipped her coffee, but could hardly taste it. She leaned forward keeping her voice low. ‘Your mother says when she arrived back home she found your father lying at the bottom of the stairs and he was able to tell her that Stella had pushed him down then run away.’

  He didn’t speak, just sat hands clasped in front of him. A deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, I’m trying to take this in,’ he said.

  ‘So this is the first you’ve heard of it?’

  A slow nod, still thinking hard, his eyes clouded with memories. ‘Do you know I didn’t even realize the two things happened at the same time. I remember the argument. My mum certainly wasn’t home when Stella arrived, and I have no idea when she got back because I stopped listening when I heard Stella say she was pregnant. I was really upset and – like a typical teenager – I threw myself on my bed in a sulk, put on my headphones and turned my music up to top volume. Then I fell asleep.’

  ‘When did you find out about the accident?’

  He scratched his head. ‘Not until late next morning. I suppose that’s why I haven’t connected the two things before. I used to sleep till lunchtime at least when I didn’t have school. So it must have been nearly twelve when Mum woke me and said she’d just come back from the hospital. I’ve always thought Dad fell downstairs when he got up in the morning. I’m almost sure that’s what he told me must have happened.’

  ‘According to your mother it was the night before. When Stella was there.’

  Simon steepled his hands and pressed his fingertips against his lips. ‘I must have slept through it all.’ He was squinting, trying to see back into the past. ‘I’m not certain, but I may have a vague memory of some kind of commotion. A couple of voices I didn’t recognize – the ambulance people I
suppose – but I always thought that was in the morning.’

  ‘And neither of your parents ever told you it might not have been an accident? Never mentioned Stella in connection with it?’

  A slow headshake.

  When his clasped hands dropped to the table, Eve reached out to hold them between her own. ‘I’m sorry, Simon, I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  He shook his head then gave her a weak smile. ‘Don’t be sorry. It’s certainly not your fault. But I can’t help thinking that, if this is true and I’d carried on listening, instead of getting into a strop, I might have stopped it happening.’ He rubbed his hand over his face, and Eve could see the young boy he must have been back then.

  ‘It’s been horrible all these years,’ he said. ‘You know what it’s like with teenage lads and their fathers. Well Dad and I were just starting to be friends again – but his accident changed him. He became bitter and angry. Thought he wasn’t a proper man anymore. Mum gave up her whole life to look after him, but he resents her for it. They lost the gallery and would have lost the house if her parents hadn’t helped out.’

  Eve didn’t know what to say. She sat staring into her cup, and it wasn’t until he moved his other hand that she realized she was still holding it. He looked at his watch.

  ‘I need to go and I’m sorry for reacting like this. You’re the one who’s had the greater shock. But remember, I didn’t actually see anything. And my father has always said he has no memory of it. So for all we know it might not be true. I love my mother, but it wouldn’t be completely out of character for her to make this up to stop you trying to see Dad.’

  ‘You don’t really believe that, do you?’

  He shook his head. ‘I honestly don’t know.’

  Outside the café they stood looking at each other, and he said, ‘However this turns out, I hope it doesn’t stop us from being friends.’

  She reached for him and they held each other close for a long moment, and although she knew there were people milling around them, it felt as if they were completely alone. And standing in the cold street with his arms around her, the only thing she knew for sure was that she didn’t want to lose him.

  Stella

  Stella found another note from Ben in her pigeonhole. It pleaded with her to get some drawings to him very soon.

  If you don’t we are both in serious trouble. Please, Stella, I am begging you.

  A swell of fierce anger went through her. She had done nothing wrong and if it came to it she would go to the police and tell them everything. But first she decided to see his wife. Maggie had pointed out his house to her one day when they passed it on a bus. It seemed obvious that Pamela didn’t know what Ben was doing, and according to Maggie she was wealthy, so surely she would deal with her husband’s debts. Then it would all be over. If it ruined their marriage, that wasn’t Stella’s problem.

  On the doorstep of the big house in Mayfair that evening she nearly lost her nerve. Although she’d rehearsed what she was going to say to Mrs Houghton, she’d forgotten most of it now.

  Almost without meaning to she found she had rung the big brass bell. A minute passed and she began to turn away, more relieved than disappointed. But then she heard fast footsteps pounding the stairs and the door flew open. It was the boy; the son. She couldn’t remember his name, but he seemed to recognize her. His face and neck blotched with pink and he put his hand into his tangled dark hair.

  When she’d thought about this moment Stella had imagined being met by some kind of servant, and this was so unexpected she couldn’t speak. The boy seemed stunned too. For goodness’ sake pull yourself together. He’s just a lad. Although he was much taller than her, she stood as straight as she could and tried to talk like a grown-up. ‘Could I see Mrs Houghton, please?’ If only she didn’t have her bloody accent.

  The boy hadn’t moved and was still staring at her as if he couldn’t understand what she was saying, but then Ben’s voice came from somewhere upstairs. ‘Don’t just stand there, Simon. Let her in for fuck sake.’

  Simon flinched. He glanced back to the stairs and stepped aside without a word. The tiled hall was bigger than the whole ground floor in her nana’s house. Ben was leaning over the banisters at the top of the stairs, and he called down, ‘Stella, darling, I’m in my office, come up.’

  Simon had closed the door, but was moving from foot to foot in front of it, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. The hems were frayed and he was wearing no shoes. He noticed her looking at his odd socks and rested one foot on top of the other, as if that would somehow make them invisible. Ignoring Ben she turned to smile at him.

  ‘I came to see your mother.’

  His Adam’s apple moved as he gulped and his voice came out hoarse with a slight squeak at the end. ‘She’s out. Should be back soon.’

  Ben’s shout echoed down again. ‘Bring her up, you clown, she can wait here.’ Then the hectoring tone disappeared to be replaced by his usual friendly bellow. ‘Pamela will be a few minutes at most. You can wait here. Have a drink.’

  Shoulders slouched, the boy headed upstairs. Stella hesitated. Ben had probably guessed what she was planning, so she wouldn’t be able to try this again. It was now or never. She climbed the curved staircase. Mainly white, but with shining wooden treads made of dark wood instead of carpet and twisted ironwork balusters, it was intimidating. The metal handrail was smooth and surprisingly warm and she was glad of its support.

  Ben was on the landing by an open door. Behind him she saw crowded bookshelves, a big antique-looking desk and an office chair. Simon went into the room next door. At least they weren’t alone in the house.

  Ben gestured for her to come into the office, but she shook her head. ‘I’d rather wait for Mrs Houghton downstairs.’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ He gave one of his loud chuckles. It made her think of the men in those old-fashioned comedy films her nana used to watch. ‘You’ll be quite safe.’

  She crossed her arms tight over her chest. ‘Does your wife know what you did with my drawings?’

  ‘Of course not. I needed the money to be free from her.’ His laugh was a loud crack that made her jump, and she looked at Simon’s door. A spike of sadness for him. She hoped he hadn’t heard.

  ‘But now it’s turned nasty, you have to ask her to bail you out,’ she said.

  ‘You seem to forget it’s her money I’ve lost. Even if she wanted to help, which is unlikely, she wouldn’t be able to.’

  Stella backed away from him until she was pressed against the banisters. ‘You have to do something. At least get me out of it. I’m going to have a baby.’ She hadn’t meant to tell him, and for a moment she felt dizzy, because it was the first time she’d said it aloud to anyone except her doctor. A hard lump lodged itself in her throat and she fought back a sob.

  After a quick flash of surprise Ben pasted on a concerned smile. ‘Oh my dear. I’m not sure whether to congratulate or commiserate with you. I can’t stand kids myself, but whether you’re planning to keep the little tyke or not you’ll want some money, won’t you?’ He took her hand, holding so tightly she couldn’t pull it free. ‘Just think of it. If you come in properly with me, this could be the start of a great future for you.’

  A rush of something dark and bitter powered up from deep inside to fill her chest. She felt like an angry child again. Wanted to smash her fist into his smug face. Instead she jerked her hand away and spoke as calmly as she could. ‘I don’t ever want to see you again. I’m going to the police. They’ll protect me. And you can be sure of one thing: I’ll try to make sure they prosecute you and the people you’re working with.’ Her voice sounded so harsh and unfamiliar it frightened her.

  As she turned and tried to go down the stairs, he grabbed her arm. ‘Stella, my love, think what you’re doing. You drew the pictures after all. And I’m a respected businessman. You’re – well, I don’t know what you are – but I gather from Maggie that your family isn’t anything to be proud of. Wasn’t y
our mother unstable? Killed herself, didn’t she?’

  A flash of her mam gurgling on the sofa in that filthy room. And Mrs Ahmed saying, Didn’t you see she was poorly?

  She pushed him hard away. ‘Shut up, just shut up, and leave me alone.’

  She ran downstairs, her eyes blurred with tears. When she reached the hallway her foot slipped on the tiled floor and she almost fell, grabbing the post at the end of the stairs with one hand and clutching her stomach with the other. The front door seemed miles away, her breath coming hard and fast. When she reached it she fumbled at the brass latch, her fingers clumsy. Finally it began to move. The door was heavy, so heavy. She thought she could hear him coming after her.

  But at last she was out and staggering down the stone steps. At the bottom she collided with someone on the pavement. ‘Sorry, I’m sorry.’

  She didn’t stop running through the pouring rain until she passed her bus stop and the next two. It wasn’t until she reached the third and saw a bus coming that she put out her hand. She found a seat and looked back the way she had come, almost sure someone had been chasing her. But there was nobody. It was only then that she registered how wet she was. Her coat soaked through, her hair hanging in wet hanks around her face.

  She’d made a mess of everything. If Ben was telling the truth, his wife couldn’t afford to pay off his debts. Even if he was lying he knew what Stella had planned and would make sure she couldn’t try again. Whether they were really in any danger from these people he claimed were threatening them or he was just desperate to recoup his money, she knew she was in trouble.

  She spent much of the next day in bed, trying not to think about anything. Her only option now was to carry out her threat and go to the police, but she was scared.

  When she finally made herself get up and have some cornflakes it was almost evening. Laura and Jane were both out and it was so quiet she put the radio on in the kitchen.

  It was an old house and she was used to its creaks, but even with the radio on she found her ears straining for other sounds. She switched it off, but the silence was too much. She’d feel better in her room again with the door tightly closed.

 

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