“What else is there to know?” asked Rainn. She was grinning as Margaret tutted.
“He sounds like a criminal. What’s his name?”
“Jack. He did tell me his surname but I’ve forgotten it. I was a little disorientated at the time.”
“And what does he do?”
“Works in film.” Rainn could feel Margaret’s suspicion which amused her greatly.
“Anything else?”
“Just that he’s a nice guy. Interesting and funny. And he’s got a lovely voice. I feel like I’ve heard it before. Do you think he’s famous? Maybe he’s an actor. He said he worked in film. Perhaps he’s just being modest.”
“Wait a second,” said Margaret, “you said his name was Jack?”
Before Rainn could answer, she could hear Margaret rushing through to the kitchen. When Margaret returned, Rainn could tell she was carrying a newspaper.
“Yesterday’s paper,” Margaret said. “I picked it up at the airport.” She proceeded to thumb through it. “Do you think that maybe the man’s surname might have been Bradley?”
Rainn clapped her hands. “That’s it! Exactly! Have you heard of him? Is he famous? A celebrity?”
Margaret found what she had been looking for and read in a rather world-weary way.
“‘Dangerous Jeopardy’ actor, Jack Bradley (32), admitted to being involved in a car accident near Liverpool Street station at the weekend. At first, Karolyn Jones, his agent had denied the heartthrob’s involvement. However, when footage was uploaded to social media by onlookers, she was forced to issue the following statement.
“Mr Bradley was present at a small traffic accident. It was in no way his fault and the police have not been involved. He has since visited a hospital to visit the woman who was injured and has left her flowers and other gifts.
“Jack Bradley, who has been involved in recent controversy over allegations of drug use on the set of his current set, was photographed last night leaving an exclusive restaurant with his girlfriend, Chelsea Lopez (24).”
“Oh,” said Rainn. There seemed nothing else to say.
Margaret sighed. “There’s a photograph. Looks like a nice restaurant. Italian, I guess. He’s a good looking man. I recognize him now. He’s wearing a nice suit.”
“What about his girlfriend?”
“I’ve no idea what she’s wearing. Not very much. Her legs are ridiculous. Can’t tell much about her face. She’s hiding it behind a pair of huge sunglasses.”
Rainn felt tears form in her eyes. She wasn’t sure whether it was because of sadness, or frustration at her own naivety.
“Oh, come on, Rainn,” coaxed Margaret. “Don’t feel like that.” She handed her a tissue. “Now we know who he is, there’s no need to feel bad.”
“You mean because he would never want someone like me.” Sobbed Rainn.
“That’s not what I’m saying. Quite the opposite. You would never want someone like him. I can’t say I know much about Jack Bradley, but all I know is bad. You deserve better than someone like that.”
“What do you know?” asked Rainn.
“Well, I know that he uses his wealth and fame to surround himself with young, trophy girlfriends who are usually no more than a pair of long legs and a pair of designer sunglasses. I’m sure he doesn’t even like them anyway, as he cheats repeatedly, with no qualms. I read that this has made him lose all respect for women and cynical to the core. He strikes me as the jealous type. Possessive even though he won’t stay faithful himself.”
Margaret paused to sip her tea with a very superior air.
“I know he is going through a very public career crisis. It’s probably why he was flying round in his Porsche.”
“He wasn’t speeding,” interrupted Rainn.
“Well, whatever,” shrugged Margaret. “Then there’s the rumours of drug use and his horrible temper. You could imagine how the violence in his films might spill over to his private life.”
“Is that a fact or your opinion?” asked Rainn.
Margaret folded the paper. “It’s what people say.” And then to change the subject, she asked “Have you heard from John?”
“John?” repeated Rainn, as if she had never heard of him. “Oh, God, John! I hadn’t thought.”
“You mean you haven’t told him about the accident?”
“I didn’t have chance!” protested Rainn, wondering if she looked guilty. “I probably should have.”
“You two are still friends, aren’t you?”
“Of course we are. We’re always friends. Always have been. Always will be.”
“Invite him for dinner,” said Margaret. “I’ll make something. You, me, Yvonne and John. It will be fun.”
“You’ve just flown in, you can’t be making dinner.”
“Nonsense,” snorted Margaret, standing up. “You can call him. Your phone is in the kitchen, I’ll get it.”
3
Rainn’s phone was on the kitchen table. As Margaret went to pick it up, she saw Jack’s name flashing as an incoming call. Without thinking, she answered the call before the phone rang, pushed open the kitchen door and stepped out into the back garden.
“Yes?” she said.
“Rainn, is that you?”
“She’s sleeping,” said Margaret. “She is still very weak and needs some time to recover.”
“Yes, of course,” said Jack. “I understand. Could you ask her to call me back when she wakes?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Said Margaret.
“What the hell! What are you talking about?”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to talk to Rainn anymore.” She stated calmly.
“Who gives a damn what you think? Who are you anyway? Put Rainn on. I don’t know you.” Demanded Jack angrily.
“You don’t know me, but we all know you, Mr Bradley. We all know what you are like because the whole of your private life is plastered across the gossip pages of our newspapers. And to be honest, it doesn’t look pretty. It actually looks very ugly.” Snapped Margaret.
“Don’t talk to me like that, you snooty bitch. Put Rainn on now.”
“Or what?” asked Margaret. “Are you going to shout at me like you shout at those poor extras in your film sets? Slap me like you slap your girlfriends? Or maybe you’ll run me over next in your Porsche.”
“I have never slapped anyone! If you dare repeat that accusation, my lawyers will be down on you like a ton of bricks!”
“Whatever,” yawned Margaret.
“Listen,” said Jack, trying hard to be calm, “I would really appreciate it if I could speak to Rainn. She knows me better than you. Everything you’ve read in the newspapers is just horrible gossip. Rainn knows me, the real me, and I think you should let her decide for herself. It’s nice that you’re protective of her, but she’s certainly no fool. She is well-capable of making decisions for herself.”
“Perhaps,” said Margaret. “But she’s had a nasty shock. I’m worried about her. And I’m certain she doesn’t need someone like you pestering her for your own objectives.”
“I’m not pestering her and I have no idea what you mean by my ‘own objectives’. I just want to speak to her and I think she wants to speak to me.” Pleaded Jack.
“Come on, Mr Bradley. Your acting might have convinced Rainn in her current susceptible state. It might convince gullible cinema audiences on Saturday nights, but it doesn’t convince me. I can see you want to use Rainn as a convenient prop to improve your public image. A pretty blind girl you helped after an accident. It’s perfect.”
“You despicable cow.” Snarled Jack.
Margaret sniffed. “I work in PR, Mr Bradley. I know how it works.”
“Let me tell you this. I pampered Rainn because I was taken aback by her stunning beauty. Not because I felt guilty, it was her beauty. I admit that. I am a man who enjoys beautiful women and Rainn is as beautiful as I have ever seen.”
“Do you expect some kind of award?
” snorted Margaret, her voice laden with sarcasm.
“I pampered her with nice things, but I quickly realized that expensive gifts don’t mean that much to her. Do you know what she liked the best? Do you know what she appreciated more than anything else? She loved it when I read to her. Can you believe that? I’ve never met a girl who has appreciated a story more than an expensive perfume.”
“You shock me, Mr Bradley. I can hardly believe that Chelsea Lopez doesn’t enjoy a quiet evening in curled up by the fire with Chekhov.”
“I didn’t just read to her,” he said evenly, as he managed to control his frustration and obvious dislike. “I talked to her, told her things about my life I’ve never told anyone. And she listened and didn’t judge me.”
“She’s a good listener,” said Margaret. “That much is true. It’s a shame she had to listen to all your celebrity neurosis.”
“Please listen, I feel things for Rainn I’ve never felt for anyone before. She is witty, clever and has a purity I’ve never experienced.”
“I can well believe that, Mr Bradley. Your sordid life seems to be particularly devoid of anything resembling purity. So you will understand my reluctance to let you sour her purity with your infamy.”
“Please,” begged Jack, “Rainn has made me feel like a real person. At long last I have found someone who makes me feel whole. Don’t try to come between us. It will end badly for you, if you do.”
“Mr Bradley, that sounds like a threat. This is not one of your blockbusters. Spare me the melodrama.”
Jack spoke quietly, with meaning. “You won’t come between us. You are irrelevant.”
Margaret sighed. “I may be irrelevant. But Rainn already has a boyfriend and he is not. So you might as well give up now.”
“What?” shouted Jack, unable to control the fury in his voice. “What boyfriend? She never mentioned a boyfriend.”
“I’m sorry. But she has a long-term boyfriend, so your interest is unwanted.”
“What’s his name?” snarled Jack.
“John,” retorted Margaret, without thinking.
“Well, you can tell John the same thing I told you. Neither of you will stand between Rainn and I.”
“Goodbye, Mr Bradley. I shall block your number now.”
“Do what you like. It will make no difference.”
Margaret ended the call and blocked him as she said she would. She was angry and acted before she had a chance to feel bad about doing something behind Rainn’s back. If Rainn had heard the way he had spoken, she wouldn’t have wanted to speak to him, she reasoned. She phoned John and invited him for dinner and he happily accepted.
Rainn looked up enquiringly as Margaret came back into the room. “Did I get a call?” she asked.
“Yes you did, from John” lied Margaret, “So I answered and invited him for dinner. I hope you don’t mind.”
4
It was a good meal. Rainn thought Margaret would give Yvonne a hard time about the accident, but she seemed to have other things on her mind. It was nice to see John again. After he got over the shock of discovering she had been in an accident, he was quickly back to his good-humoured self.
The four diners had shared two bottle of wine and were slouching at the kitchen table, contemplating the washing up, when there was a loud knock at the front door.
Yvonne jumped up and went to answer it. They could hear her talking animatedly to a man. Rainn’s ears pricked up as she listened attentively. “Could it be him?” she wondered. But how? Margaret frowned and looked uneasy.
The kitchen door opened and Yvonne entered, closely followed by Jack. Before Yvonne could announce his arrival, Rainn had recognized the scent and leapt up. He took a step towards her as she flung her arms around his neck.
“Jack!” she cried, excitedly. “How did you find me?”
Jack laughed. “Careful,” he warned, “you’ll crush the flowers.”
“They smell wonderful,” said Rainn. “Are they all for me?”
“One bunch,” teased Jack. “The other is for the lady I spoke with earlier.” He looked down at the table and gazed coolly at Margaret. “These are for you.”
“Thanks,” said Margaret, taking the flowers. “I’ll put them in some water.”
“It was her idea that I should pay you visit,” elaborated Jack, smiling at everyone. “I hadn’t realized you were having dinner.”
“It’s such a shame,” exclaimed Rainn, “we’ve only just finished.”
“Yes, what a shame,” said Margaret. “But tell us, Mr Bradley, how did you find the house?”
“Please, call me Jack,” he said smiling very hard. “It’s not so difficult these days. We don’t have much privacy now, do we? I should know.” He gave a little grin and Yvonne and Rainn laughed.
“And this must be John,” Jack continued. “The John I’ve heard so much about.”
John made to stand up but Jack stepped over quickly so he stayed seated. When John put out his hand to shake, Jack put his over it and held it for a little longer than he might, looking John in the eye, as if holding him down, overbearing him.
“Hi,” said John.
“What do you do, John?”
“I just work in an office.”
“I’m sure you do,” said Jack and let his hand drop.
John had to shake his arm to get the circulation moving again and he raised a quizzical eyebrow at Margaret.
“I feel like I’m crowding you all in here,” said Jack. “Rainn, do you mind if we take a walk in the garden? If the others don’t mind us being excused.”
Jack led her down the narrow garden away from the kitchen window of the terraced house. There was a little vegetable plot where Rainn had planted some carrots and a small greenhouse with a broken window. Jack looked at them disdainfully.
“So,” he said, “John seems a nice guy. Quite good looking, in his own way.”
“I think he’s lovely,” agreed Rainn, brightly. “He’s always been popular with girls. I suppose it’s because he’s so easy to get on with and he’s funny too.”
“That’s nice,” said Jack, bringing his foot down on the frilly green leaves of a carrot plant. “But is a nice guy really enough for you?”
“I’m not sure,” said Rainn, her face wrinkling in obvious bafflement that near enough broke Jack’s heart.
“I mean, is nice all you want in a boyfriend?” persisted Jack.
“Boyfriend!” Rainn laughed and brought her hands up to her mouth. “John, my boyfriend! Is that what you mean?”
This time it was Jack’s turn to look baffled. “So, John’s not your boyfriend?” he said, slowly.
“No! No, not at all. He’s a friend. A good friend. But that’s all. He’s never shown any feelings for me.”
Jack threw his head back and laughed. “Oh really,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I got completely the wrong end of the stick.”
“Why the hell would you think that?” asked Rainn.
“Oh, I’ve no idea,” said Jack, slowly. “I’m just a jealous fool, I guess.”
“You’re not a fool,” said Rainn. She put her left hand on his shoulder and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“But I am jealous. I see,” said Jack, smiling.
Without speaking Rainn placed her right hand on his other shoulder and kissed his other cheek. Then they kissed again on the lips and even though Rainn stood with her heels in the soft earth, the kiss was like a taste of heaven.
When they went back into the kitchen the washing up had not been touched and the three sat around the table as seriously as if it were at Yalta. But neither Rainn nor Jack seemed to notice.
Jack slapped John on the back. “Have a good day in the office tomorrow,” he said. Then he turned to Rainn and touched her waist. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight,” he told her. “Goodbye everyone” he said and saw himself out.
5
Jack picked her up the following night. Tactfully, he drove the Mercedes instead of the car he had
knocked her down with. When Rainn questioned this, he laughed.
“You notice a lot,” he said.
“Probably more than you might think,” said Rainn. “I also notice that this car smells of a perfume that isn’t mine. I imagine you get it valeted regularly, so I suppose Chelsea has been riding with you recently.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s been reading you the newspapers. And not the good ones either.”
“I take it that’s a yes, then.”
Jack drove west through the London evening traffic. “I am single. I like dining in fine restaurants and I like the company of beautiful women. Tonight I am dining with you. Tonight, Rainn, there is no one in the world I would rather be with.”
He glanced at Rainn, who was appeared to be carefully considering his words.
“I’m saying this sincerely,” he pressed. “I want to be completely honest with you. Do you understand?”
Rainn nodded. “I understand,” she said, “and I appreciate it.”
They drove through a tunnel and the lights moved up and over her face and Jack wondered if she sensed any of it or whether it was all endless darkness.
“And tomorrow night, when I’m not with you” asked Rainn, “what will you want to do tomorrow night?”
“Another restaurant,” said Jack.
“Even if our restaurant is good?” asked Rainn.
“Especially if our restaurant is good,” said Jack. “I’d be worried it wouldn’t be as good the next time.”
“I see,” said Rainn. “And do you think of women the same way you think of restaurants?”
“Up to now.”
As they drove home, Rainn waited for Jack to change gear and lightly laid her hand on his.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“More than alright,” she said. “It was a lovely evening. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you had a good time,” he said. “I enjoyed it too.”
“You won’t be going to that restaurant again.”
“No,” he said, “not for a long time.”
Dirty Cops Next Door Page 76