Respect (Mandasue Heller)

by Mandasue Heller

  Bill’s office was on the first floor of the shabby block that stood beside the café where Chantelle had first met her. Chantelle had only been there a few times but the elderly doorman, Arnold, never forgot a face, and he smiled when he saw her through the glass door now.

  ‘Morning, pet,’ he said, limping back to his chair behind the reception desk after letting her in and relocking the door behind her. ‘How’s you?’

  ‘I’m okay, thanks,’ Chantelle lied. ‘You?’

  ‘Not too bad.’ He sat down, with a puff. ‘My knees are playing up again, but the doc’s decided I’m not suffering enough for replacement, so I’ll just have to struggle on, eh?’

  ‘Hope you feel better soon,’ Chantelle said, smiling as she backed towards the stairs. He was a nice old man, but he was likely to start talking about the good old days if she hung around for too long, and she had more pressing things on her mind.

  ‘Come,’ Bill called when she heard a tap at the door. Her eyebrows rose when Chantelle walked in. ‘Well, that’s a surprise. I thought you were Arnold.’ She sat back in her seat now and looped her hands together over her stomach. ‘What brings you here on this fine day?’

  Chantelle bit her lip. All the way here she’d been to-ing and fro-ing; one minute determined to go through with it, the next telling herself not to give up on Rob so easily. Now she was actually here, she was uncertain again.

  He lied to your face and said he’d been in the office all night, a little voice in her head reminded her. And he’s probably still been sleeping with Yvette, and God knows who else, the whole time he’s been sleeping with you.

  ‘I saw something after you dropped me off last night,’ she said, pulling her phone out of her bag. ‘And I thought you should see it.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Bill waved for her to pull up a chair.

  ‘Me and my friend went for a drink,’ Chantelle said, sitting down. ‘But when I was on my way home I saw a man we were hired to follow a while back – the one who said he could set me up with the model agent.’

  ‘Mmmm?’

  ‘Well, he came out of the same club I first saw him at,’ Chantelle said, gritting her teeth as she added, ‘With a woman. I didn’t think anything of it, because I’d seen him with women before and nothing had happened. But when I saw him kiss her, I started filming them on my phone.’

  When Bill held out her hand, Chantelle passed her phone over and twisted her fingers together in her lap. Her boss wasn’t stupid, and she was scared that the old woman would see straight through her lies. But she wasn’t about to admit to anything unless she absolutely had to.

  Bill attached the phone to her laptop and downloaded the footage, then rested her elbows on the desktop to watch it.

  ‘What do you think?’ Chantelle asked when she’d viewed it twice.

  ‘Not a lot,’ Bill said non-committally. ‘Could be his wife, for all we know.’

  ‘It’s not,’ Chantelle said. Then, realising her mistake, she blushed deeply and lowered her gaze.

  Bill narrowed her eyes and peered at her thoughtfully. ‘Anything you’d like to tell me?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Chantelle murmured, trying but failing to look her in the eye.

  ‘Oh, I think you do,’ Bill said quietly. ‘I’ve been in this business for a very long time, Chantelle, and my instincts are as sharp as they ever were. I know a rat when I smell one, and this stinks to high heaven.’

  She pursed her lips when Chantelle still didn’t speak, and said, ‘Going to make me work it out for myself, are you? Okay, let’s see how I get on … You saw a friend as we were driving home last night and asked me to drop you off. Then, after going for a drink with said friend, you claim to have stumbled upon an old suspect and, suspecting that he was up to no good, spent some considerable time filming him on your phone. How am I doing so far?’

  Chantelle’s cheeks were blazing, and she gave a shamefaced little shrug.

  ‘My dear, even I would be hard pushed to recognise a suspect after several weeks,’ Bill went on reprovingly. ‘So how you managed it, in the dark and from such a distance, is beyond me. Unless you’ve seen him since we called time on that particular job?’

  She gazed at Chantelle now and waited for an answer. Then, sighing when she saw a tear trickle slowly down her cheek, she said, ‘Oh, you silly girl.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Chantelle sobbed. ‘I didn’t mean to; it just happened.’

  ‘You know the rules, and I’d have thought by now that you would understand the importance of adhering to them,’ Bill scolded. ‘If a suspect we’ve outed were to find out who we are and where to find us, we’d be extremely vulnerable.’

  ‘I haven’t told him anything,’ Chantelle said truthfully. ‘He still thinks my name’s Julia, and he doesn’t know where I live.’

  ‘How long has it been going on?’

  ‘A few months. He rang me a week after that night at the Hilton and asked me to do him a favour and go to dinner with him and a client.’

  ‘And you didn’t think to tell me?’

  ‘He offered to pay me, so I thought it was just business,’ Chantelle said guiltily. ‘We met at the restaurant, but his client rang to say he couldn’t come, so—’

  ‘Really?’ Bill interrupted sarcastically. ‘Well, there’s a surprise. Didn’t that strike you as a familiar pattern?’

  ‘I didn’t think of it like that at the time,’ Chantelle admitted. ‘We just had dinner, and then he dropped me off down the road from mine. I’d had a bit too much to drink, and I let him kiss me, but then I felt guilty and went home.’

  ‘But he called and persuaded you to meet up again, and it’s been going on ever since?’ Bill shook her head when Chantelle nodded. ‘And, let me guess … he said he loved you, and promised to leave his wife for you? Oldest lines in the bloody book, and you fell for it,’ she finished disappointedly. ‘I honestly thought you had more sense.’

  ‘I believed him,’ Chantelle said plaintively. ‘He’s been so lovely to me.’

  Bill plucked a tissue out of a pack in her drawer and passed it over the desk. Then, tutting when something popped into her mind, she said, ‘Rob … I should have guessed when you answered my call the other day and thought it was him. If only you’d told me.’

  ‘I couldn’t,’ Chantelle croaked. ‘I was scared you’d sack me. But I guess you will now, anyway.’

  ‘I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with you yet,’ Bill informed her. ‘I need time to think it over.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ Chantelle murmured. ‘I never wanted to lie to you, but once I started, I didn’t know how to stop.’

  ‘Am I right to assume the affair, or whatever you’d like to call it, is over?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Chantelle nodded. ‘I’ve seen my mum get cheated on my whole life, and I always vowed I’d never let it happen to me. I feel so stupid.’

  ‘And now you want to punish him by letting wifey know what he’s been up to?’

  Chantelle gave a little shrug, unable to deny it but ashamed to admit it, because it sounded so petty.

  ‘Can’t say I blame you,’ Bill said. Then, pushing her seat back, she stood up and waved Chantelle towards the door. ‘Go home. I’ll call you when I’ve decided what I’m going to do with you.’

  The guilt weighed heavily on Chantelle’s shoulders as she made her way out. There were many years between her and Bill in age, but she genuinely liked and respected the woman and truly enjoyed working with her. But if this was the end, she had nobody but herself to blame.

  26

  Yvette Knight was lying on a bed in the treatment room of her favourite salon when her mobile phone rang that afternoon. It was her fourth wedding anniversary, and after making love to her that morning Rob had presented her with a beautiful bunch of roses. His thoughtfulness had been so unexpected, and so welcome after their recent ups and downs, that she had decided to surprise him in return by giving him a night of passion that would totally blow his mind.<
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  As soon as he’d left for work she had booked herself in for a full top-to-toe treatment. Her hair was now covered in strips of foil, her finger- and toenails were beautifully painted in his favourite shade of scarlet, and one of the girls had just applied wax to her bikini line, while another was injecting Botox into her frown lines.

  When she heard her phone ringing now, she smiled up at another girl who had just brought her a fresh glass of wine, and said, ‘Get that for me, sweetie.’

  The girl reached into Yvette’s handbag, which was sitting on the make-up ledge, and took out the ringing phone.

  ‘Who is it?’ Yvette asked, hoping that it wasn’t Rob. He’d only guess what she was doing if he knew where she was, and that would ruin her surprise.

  ‘It says “Pix”,’ the girl told her, reading the name on the screen.

  ‘Give it to me.’ No longer smiling, Yvette sat bolt upright and dropped her feet to the floor.

  ‘Wait,’ the wax-girl said when she headed for the door. ‘That leads back onto the shop floor, and you’re naked down there.’

  Yvette snatched the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her waist before rushing from the room and into the toilet.

  ‘Why are you calling me?’ she asked in a whisper when she was able to talk. ‘Have you any idea how much trouble you’d have caused if my husband had answered my phone?’

  ‘Please accept my apologies,’ Bill said evenly, resisting the temptation to remind the woman that she hadn’t been so reticent about receiving calls in the past.

  ‘What do you want?’ Yvette demanded. ‘I know you received your payment, because I checked my account.’

  ‘That’s all in order,’ Bill assured her. ‘I just thought you might like to know that I am in possession of additional information concerning the subject of our previous communications.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Yvette squawked. ‘I didn’t authorise you to carry on following him, so don’t think you’re going to hit me with a massive bill. I’ll sue you before I pay you another penny!’

  ‘Highly unlikely,’ Bill said bluntly, guessing that the woman wouldn’t risk exposing their arrangement in a public arena. ‘But I’ve decided to waive the follow-up fee, so there will be nothing to pay.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Yvette replied, anger quashed, curiosity roused. ‘So, what do you have for me?’

  ‘If you still have the pin number you may use it to access the latest pictures,’ Bill told her. ‘The quality is nowhere near that of the first batch, but you should still be able to gauge what’s happening in them.’

  Yvette felt the blood drain from her face. ‘Are you saying you’ve got proof that Rob’s cheating on me?’

  ‘Review the pictures and decide for yourself, dear.’

  Yvette felt sick to her stomach when the line went dead, and her head started to spin. She stumbled against the wall and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her skin was deathly pale, and her unmade-up eyes were bugging out at her. It couldn’t be true … Rob couldn’t be cheating. Not on their anniversary.

  Desperate to get home so that she could view the pictures in private, she rushed out of the toilets and back into the treatment room.

  ‘Get this crap off my hair,’ she ordered. ‘And hurry up. I’ve got to go.’

  ‘But it won’t be properly developed yet,’ the girl told her.

  ‘I don’t CARE!’ screeched Yvette. Then, tugging at the foil strips, she said, ‘Oh, forget it. I’ll do it myself.’

  The receptionist looked up and smiled when Yvette, now dressed, came hurtling out of the treatment room. But when the woman ran straight past and yanked the door open, she called, ‘Excuse me, Mrs Knight … you haven’t paid.’

  ‘Send me the bill,’ Yvette yelled back over her shoulder.

  Rob was relaxed when he arrived home at six that evening. With his recent problems now taken care of, and a new high-paying client on board, the future was starting to look bright again, and he was whistling as he strolled into the kitchen. But he stopped in his tracks and drew his head back in alarm when he saw Yvette standing there with a glass of wine in her hand and a wild look in her eyes.

  ‘Whoa! What the fuck have you done to your hair? It’s bright orange.’

  ‘Never mind my fucking hair,’ Yvette screamed, hurling the glass at him.

  He ducked just in time, and it sailed past his head and smashed against the wall behind him. ‘What the hell was that for?’ he demanded, looking at his wife as if she’d lost her mind.

  ‘You tell me!’ Yvette launched herself at him and slapped him around the face. ‘Go on – tell me! Tell me about the whore you’ve been fucking behind my back! TELL ME!’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Rob said, batting her hand away when she went to hit him again. ‘I haven’t been fucking anyone.’

  ‘Liar!’ Yvette sobbed, tears cascading down her face as she raked his cheek with her nails.

  ‘Pack it in,’ he barked, shoving her roughly away and holding a hand to his stinging cheek. When he looked at his hand and saw blood, he scowled. ‘Look what you’ve done.’

  ‘You deserved it,’ she gasped, holding herself up against the counter top. ‘I’ve known for months, but you were never going to tell me, were you? I’m working … I’m in a meeting … you’re crazy …’ she mimicked. ‘Well, I’m not crazy, am I? I was right all along, and now I’ve got the pictures to prove it.’

  ‘What pictures?’ Rob sneered, certain that she had nothing on him. The only woman he’d fucked behind her back recently was Julia, and they always went over to the lake to do the business so he’d have known if anyone had been spying on them.

  ‘Oh, you want to see them, do you?’ Yvette snatched up the copies she had printed off and threw them at him. ‘Here … And don’t bother ripping them up, because I’ll just print more.’

  Rob picked up the scattered photographs and stared at them with narrowed eyes for several moments. Then, voice low, he asked, ‘Where did you get these?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter where I got them, it just matters that I have got them,’ Yvette said angrily. ‘Do you know what it’s been like for me, sitting here night after night wondering what you were doing – who you were doing? Why couldn’t you just tell me, instead of sneaking around behind my back, making a mockery of our marriage? Well, this is the last time, Rob. I can’t go through this again. I want a divorce.’

  Rob had been studying the pictures again as she spoke. He looked up now and said, ‘I asked you where you got them?’

  ‘And I said it doesn’t matter,’ Yvette repeated, furious that he cared more about that than he did about the fact that he’d been caught and she’d asked for a divorce. ‘Oh, I get it,’ she spat as another thought occurred to her. ‘The bitch is married, and you’re scared her husband will see the pictures and come after you. I’m right, aren’t I?’

  When Rob strode across to her and gripped her by the arm, she cried out in pain. ‘Get off me! You’re hurting me.’

  ‘Where did you get them?’ Rob asked again, tightening his grip.

  ‘A private investigator,’ she informed him defiantly.

  ‘You’ve had me followed?’ Rob stared down at her in disbelief. ‘How long for?’

  ‘Long enough to know that bitch wasn’t the first,’ Yvette said, wincing as his fingernails dug into her flesh. ‘I’m not the one in the wrong here, so I don’t see why you’re acting like this,’ she went on angrily. ‘You’re the one who’s been screwing around, so if anyone’s entitled to be mad, it’s m—’

  Rob clapped his hand over her mouth before she finished speaking, and her eyes widened with panic as she struggled to breathe. He held on tight for several long moments, then asked, ‘Ready to tell me what I want to know?’

  She nodded frantically, and gasped for breath when he withdrew his hand. She and Rob had fought in the past, but he’d never been as violent as this. She’d really thought he’d been going to suffocate her just
then, and she didn’t understand why he was so angry. By rights, he ought to be on his knees begging for forgiveness.

  ‘I want a name and address,’ Rob said again. ‘And don’t fuck around, ’cos I haven’t got time for this.’

  ‘She didn’t give me an address,’ Yvette croaked truthfully. ‘I found her online and only ever talked to her on the phone.’

  ‘So how did you get the pictures?’

  ‘She put them on her database and sent me a pin number after I paid. I’m sorry!’ she squealed when she saw the rage in his eyes, raising her hands to protect her face in case he hit her. ‘I love you, and I didn’t want to lose you. What else was I supposed to do?’

  ‘Show me the pictures.’ Rob shoved her towards the laptop that was sitting at the other end of the ledge. ‘All of them.’

  Yvette’s hands were shaking as she unclipped the lid and brought up the PI’s website. ‘There’s nothing else on there,’ she told him as she typed in the code. ‘All I’ve got is the pin, and her phone number.’

  Rob didn’t speak. He just stared at the screen and waited for the pictures to appear. When they came up a few seconds later, he scrolled through them until he reached the last batch, and leaned forward to study them. They were still grainy, but much clearer on the screen than in the printed versions, and his jaw clenched when he saw the details he’d missed first time around.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Yvette asked when he slammed the lid down and yanked the plug out of the wall.

  ‘Getting rid of this shit,’ he said. ‘And I’ll have that number while I’m at it.’ He snatched up her phone. ‘What’s it listed as?’