Out of Sight Out of Mind (Choc Lit)

by Wareham, Evonne

  The way down was steep but the perfectly empty sweep was worth the effort. They walked beside the water. Jay looked back at their footprints in the wet sand. So close. Meant to be together? ‘Madison … if I was to—’

  She turned towards him, face alight. ‘Did you see that? I think there’s something out there.’ She pointed out to sea. ‘Some sort of big fish – or maybe a seal? If we climb up there, on that rock, we can see better.’

  They decided, in the end, that it might be a seal.

  Going back, the ascent to the cottage demanded enough breath to keep conversation to a minimum. By the time they reached the top, Jay had made a decision of sorts. He’d keep his mouth shut, at least until they were back in London.

  Don’t wreck something this good.

  ‘How about dinner and a movie tonight? I think there’s a cinema in Tenby.’ Madison handed him a beer and clinked ice into a glass of mineral water for herself.

  ‘You mean a proper date? Scary movie, popcorn, necking in the back row?’ He grinned. ‘You’re on. How do we find out what and where?’

  ‘There might be something on the tourist information website. I’ll get the laptop from the car.’

  ‘I can go.’

  ‘No, it’s okay. I want to look for my other sunglasses. Go sit in the garden and drink your beer.’ She shooed him out, laughing.

  Madison opened the boot and pulled out the computer. Her briefcase shifted, banging her hand as she lifted the laptop. A brown envelope was poking out of the pocket on the side of the case. She was stuffing it back in when she realised what it was. The missing test results.

  She vacillated for a moment. She’d said no work this weekend. Wednesday would be soon enough to enter them. On the other hand, it wouldn’t take more than a second and the job would be done. And as she could never seem to remember to do it when she was actually at the lab—

  She pulled the results sheet out of the envelope.

  ‘Madison?’ Jay came around the side of the cottage and found her, sitting on the back seat of the car, with the door open. ‘What is it?’

  ‘This.’ She put a piece of paper into his hand.

  ‘Hey, I thought we had a deal? No work?’ Her expression stopped him. Something cold nudged his heart. ‘Okay. What am I looking at?’ He could see it was lab results, lists and graphs of chemicals and percentages.

  ‘Here.’ She pointed to a name at the bottom of the list. ‘These are your test results from a few weeks back. I’ve been monitoring the residual levels of chemicals in your blood.’

  ‘And?’ The concern on her face sent a spike of alarm into his guts, though the percentage against the compound was reassuringly tiny. ‘What is it? Arsenic? Radioactivity?’

  ‘It’s something very experimental. They’re testing it, in Switzerland.’ She looked up. He saw fear in her eyes. ‘It shouldn’t be there, Jay. I never gave it to you.’

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘Simplest explanation is that it’s a mistake.’ They were sitting in the garden. The paper lay on the bench between them. Jay tapped it. ‘You said you’d never used these test people before. They’re not reliable, that’s all. You’ve had other results, before and since, from your regular test place, that show nothing. These guys have transposed a symbol, mixed up results, something.’

  ‘No.’ Madison’s hand spasmed into a fist. ‘This isn’t just something you pick up at the pharmacy, Jay. It’s a specialist compound. As far as I know it’s only available from one source. It isn’t like anything I’ve used. From what I’ve read, it wouldn’t have the same effect at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. The pharmaceutical company is trialling it as a way of blocking negative emotions, for people in extreme mental distress.’ She picked up the paper. ‘The amount here is negligible, but the residue of this stuff stays in the body for up to twelve months. That’s one of the problems they’re finding with it.’ She stared at him, eyes troubled. ‘I think this is what was used to make the barrier, Jay. And someone has been tampering with the results at the lab, to stop us finding out.’

  ‘Staring at it all evening isn’t going to change anything.’ Jay prised the paper out of Madison’s grip and steered her firmly indoors towards her jacket and the car keys. ‘We had a date, remember? Dinner? Nightlife in the fleshpots of Tenby?’

  He held his breath. His immediate impulse, to leap in to the car and head back to London, to hammer on doors, demanding answers, had lasted only a second. The sight of Madison’s pale, worried face, as she studied the results, had brought him up short. Sanity rushed back in an instant. They had a breakthrough, a small fragmentary clue, that was all. A clue that might lead to greater things, if it was followed up with care and discretion. And that wasn’t going to be achieved by kicking down doors on a holiday weekend.

  At the moment, all he could do was reassure Madison and try to wipe away that frown. ‘Dinner?’ he prompted again. ‘We can give the fleshpots a miss, if you don’t fancy them.’ He was rewarded by a weak grin. He put his hand under Madison’s chin and gently raised her head, brushing a kiss across her mouth. ‘Forget it.’

  Her hand quivered in his for a moment when he reached to take it. Then she let him lead her out to the car.

  Dinner, of an enormous platter of seafood, accompanied by a well-chilled rosé wine, leached some of the tension out of her nerves. Jay’s refusal to endlessly analyse what she’d discovered was both frustrating and curiously soothing. In the end she gave in and did her best to put the whole thing out of her mind.

  The night was warm. They wandered the narrow streets of the small town, hand in hand. Many of the shops were still open. Soft light, the occasional burst of music and racks and rails of stock spilled into the street. The pubs and bars were doing good trade. Jay piloted Madison around a clutch of tables set out on the pavement, looking enquiringly at her and miming raising a glass. She smiled but shook her head.

  Their meandering progress took them towards the harbour. It was getting dark. Lights from boats anchored out in the bay glittered over the water as the craft bobbed in a soft swell. Madison leaned into Jay as they stood near the harbour wall. They eventually turned inland again, walking along a familiar street.

  The shop where she’d bought the candles was at the end. It was closed. Madison peered through the thick glass of the windows. There was no sign of life, no lights or movement. Not even the cat stirred behind the panes. For some reason the silent shop sent a shiver running through her, until Jay wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to the heat of his body.

  ‘Tired?’ Jay backed her gently against the kitchen door, corralling her with an arm on each side of her body. His kiss was deep and questioning. Madison shook her head, clinging to him, her hands twined around his neck. Without speaking he lifted her into his arms and carried her upstairs. They made love slowly and silently, to the background noise of the sea.

  The next day it was raining. The sky was a solid, dense grey and water ran in sheets down the windows.

  Weather to match his mood.

  Jay stared out of the kitchen window, watching the deluge against the glass, hoping that Madison would sleep for a while longer. He pushed his hand through his hair. He’d done a pretty good job last night, diverting her thoughts, and his own, from those blasted test results, but today …

  Why the hell did she have to find them here?

  And where the hell do they take us?

  Unease, like a queasy mist, floated through his blood, blood tainted by a drug that wasn’t supposed to be there. He clenched his teeth on the sudden urge to scrub at his arms.

  You can’t scrub this away – this is what you are. What you’re meant to be.

  A faint, distorted image, that might be the reflection of his face, floated against the backdrop of rain. He put out a hand to trap it, knowing that all he would encounter would be
cold glass. That was him – trapped behind a wall of glass, watching himself, noting his emotions – horror frosted over with a strange detachment.

  Where you’re meant to be.

  He pulled his hand away, as if the glass burned. ‘You’re just bloody confused and not thinking straight.’

  Abruptly he turned from the window to open the fridge. Breakfast. Keep busy, keep the questions at bay. Keep it light; don’t let Madison worry over it.

  Above all, don’t let Madison worry over it.

  Focusing on the plash of the rain on the windows he set coffee to brew. When it was done, he carried it upstairs. Madison was still sleeping. Her hair made a sprawled halo on the pillow. Spiky lashes flickered against sun-kissed skin, delicately dusted with freckles. Jay’s heart turned over in his chest, with an emotion he couldn’t name, as he set down the steaming mug and crept back downstairs.

  ‘Forecast says clearing later.’ Jay looked up from frying bacon.

  Madison stood in the doorway, in her robe, clutching the empty mug. A perky dragon grinned at him, coyly, from under the handle. Jay didn’t need to read her mind; her face told him everything she was thinking.

  ‘Hey.’ He put out a hand. ‘You have to stop brooding about it. You said yourself the results were tiny. Your testers probably thought they were too small to bother with. These guys were just more efficient. Yeah, I know.’ He answered the objection in her eyes. ‘Yesterday they were unreliable.’

  He brought the pan to the table and dished bacon on to a plate, slid an egg beside it, guided Madison to a chair and pushed her gently into it, putting a fork into a hand. ‘Eat.’

  Relief lifted his heart when she smiled wanly and began cutting bacon. He reached out and touched her hand. ‘Don’t worry any more about it. It’s a holiday, nothing we can do until the lab reopens.’ He fixed his eyes on her face, intent, his hand moving up to stroke her hair. ‘We always knew something put the wall in place. Now we know what. That’s a gain. You’ll figure out a way to use it. The rest—’ He shrugged. ‘It still could be some sort of mistake. If it’s not, then now we have somewhere to look. We can find out who could have got access to this stuff, and who in the lab might be working with them.’ He saw the pain in her face, at the thought of someone in her own lab betraying her. ‘There might not be anyone involved from your place. It only has to be one person,’ he reassured quickly. ‘Delivery man, messenger, someone like that. This could be a real, practical lead. Something we can use – but not today.’

  She put down her fork with a sigh. He could see her turning over what he’d said, and accepting it. He let out a pent up breath.

  ‘How did you get to be so – rational?’ She picked up the fork again.

  ‘In the circumstances, it’s the only way to be.’

  He sat down opposite, to tackle his own breakfast.

  This thing is ongoing.

  With an effort he shut his mind to the implications that were swirling there – someone watching him, watching Madison. Someone who knew what they were doing. Someone who wanted to stop him finding out what had been done to his memory? Someone who knows who you are.

  Madison’s eyes were on him, huge in a strained face. Bitter regret, and a thread of fear, were suddenly overwhelmed by a quick, savage burst of anger. It caught him like a blow, under the ribs. All she’d done was try to help a stranger – now she was in the middle of God knew what.

  He had to blot all that out of his mind, in order to blot it out of hers, until they could do something about it. Until he could make a plan.

  He poured coffee, thinking of a diversion. ‘There’s applewood in a bunker outside the back door. We could light a fire. Assuming you’ve had the chimney swept recently, that is.’

  ‘Yes and yes.’ She smiled, making an effort. His heart lifted a fraction. ‘Sounds good. And I promise not to brood.’ She answered the question he hadn’t asked. ‘There’s a Scrabble board in the cupboard next to the fireplace.’

  ‘Oleaginous? That’s really a word?’

  ‘Means greasy.’ Jay flipped a tile into place. ‘What am I going to do with a Z and two Ys?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Madison pushed the board aside and crawled across the sofa to him. He welcomed her into his arms as she nestled back against him, watching the fire. The scent of apple smoke hazed across the room. Madison lay back against Jay’s protective warmth, watching the pictures in the flames. Fairy castles and hills and fugitive faces, forming and shifting and crumbling to ash. The only sound was the ticking of the grandmother clock and the drip of rain on the windowsill – and Jay’s soft, snuffling snores.

  She turned in his arms, half amused, half indignant. He didn’t stir. He was sound asleep. Mouth open. She looked around for something to drop into it, then decided it was too cruel. She shifted the book of research papers that Jay was still reading, to stop it digging into her leg, and rolled sideways to look at him.

  ‘Anyone home?’ She put a gentle finger on his chin, tracing the faint stubble, letting the roughness trickle desire into her. If she was to wake him now, fuzzy with sleep …

  She dropped her head, close to his face. His eyelids were flickering. For an instant concern flashed through her, then it subsided. This wasn’t a nightmare.

  He was dreaming. She edged in closer, fascinated.

  Dreams. The subconscious. No one can control the subconscious. What if—

  She turned away, staring into the fire. She had no right to probe Jay’s mind when he was asleep, and unaware of what she was doing. It went against every code she tried to maintain for herself. But this wasn’t about knowledge any more. It was about need, and they’d almost run out of places to go on that.

  She edged back, putting her arm across his chest, wondering if he was going to wake, not sure whether she wanted him to or not.

  She felt, rather than heard, the sigh as he relaxed into her embrace. Her teeth snagged over her bottom lip. She didn’t have to do this. She could just hold him. Comfort him with the warmth of her body, the subliminal awareness of her presence. Nice, touchy-feely, unthreatening. Keeping the nightmares at bay.

  And when he wakes you’ll still be running out of places to go. Except that you know – now – how it was done.

  But not why.

  With a last tiny quiver of conscience, swiftly muffled, she slid gently into Jay’s mind, and began to nudge his dreams towards that smooth, shining wall.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ‘Christ!’ His head was splitting, as if someone had rammed a pile driver into it. In amongst the pulsing pain he knew … He remembered … ‘Jayston Creed.’

  ‘The renowned Jayston Creed. Mind-reading genius.’ Madison’s voice was low and hoarse, acid in his ears. His eyes finally focused. She was standing next to the couch. Emotion was flaring off her, compounding his confusion. ‘Known to his friends as Jay. And still alive, and practising, I presume. He did this.’ He could hear the wobble in her voice, under the acid. He reached out blindly, but she was too far away to touch.

  Madison swallowed down the lump in her throat, ignoring the outstretched hand. She’d been such a fool, not to see. ‘He must have made quite an impression, the remarkable Dr Creed, to make you assume his name, when you couldn’t remember your own.’ Jay – Jay? had been strong enough, God how strong, to carry that precious scrap of memory through the mayhem that had been done inside his head. The imprint of the man who had done this to him. I will not cry, damn it.

  ‘That’s my name.’ The voice was muffled. She had to lean forward to hear him.

  ‘No.’ She shook her head so vehemently her vision swam. ‘I know you’re not Creed.’ She raked her eyes over him. ‘Try again – who are you?’

  ‘I …’ He – she was back to that again – had his hand to his head. ‘That is me.’ His voice was still muffled. ‘I’m Creed.’

&nbs
p; Anger and bitter disappointment fizzed in her chest. ‘I don’t think so.’ With a vicious lunge she scooped the Creed/Calver research papers that he’d been reading up off the floor, brandishing the author photographs under his nose: Calver – a slight, dark man, with a thin face and a widow’s peak, and another – taller, darker, with a pleasant, forgettable face. ‘That’s Creed.’ She stabbed at the picture. ‘And it’s certainly not you!’ Not those eyes, those cheekbones, that mouth. ‘So, who the hell are you?’ she demanded again. ‘And what is this? A test, to see how good I am? An audition, to put me through my paces before your boss graciously invites me to join his team? I assume Creed is your boss?’ Her voice hitched. ‘I can’t believe I was so stupid.’

  Cruelly, monumentally stupid.

  She flung away from the couch, wanting to hit something, afraid it might be him. Oh God, she should have known! She thumped her fist into her palm. Jay – Jayston – the connection was staring you in the face, but you were so taken up with your own importance, your own clever investigations. So taken up with him.

  She should have realised – but how could she have known? No one knew what had happened to Creed. After the trial, he’d simply disappeared. The strongest rumours, from people in a position to know, were that he was dead. He’d been at the cutting edge of medical mind control, but when it all went hideously wrong, his reputation had plummeted. Before that – well, he’d been the man who wrote the bloody book. A legend, for his talent.

  And now she knew. He was still alive, somewhere. Still working. Still recruiting. And he’d sent her a sample of his skill.

  She forced some semblance of command over her limbs, reaching down to the table. ‘Here.’ She held out her hand.

  The man with no name – sexy body, but no name – had dragged himself up into a sitting position. The heel of his hand was pressed to the bridge of his nose. She could almost feel his pain. She pushed the glass of water and the capsules at him.