Scandalous Lies: An addictive, sexy beach read

by Nigel May

‘But who?’ His words were muffled but she could tell what he was saying.

  ‘Jack Christie’s his name. Not that it matters. You don’t need to worry any more. Just concentrate on regaining your strength. For you, for your children … for your wife.’

  Scott’s eyes narrowed. Chloe couldn’t tell if it was confusion, sympathy or hatred that he was showing her. It didn’t matter.

  ‘I’m quitting. I’ll be gone by the time you arrive back home. I’ll speak to the nannying agency and they can arrange for a new person to start until you decide on who you want to employ permanently. I’ll tell Victoria you’re here. I didn’t even tell her you’d been beaten up. How cowardly is that? But I wanted to see you first, to tell you what I needed to say. She’ll be at the house now. It all kicked off at the event tonight. But you didn’t miss much,’ she lied. ‘You can read all about it in the papers.’

  ‘But where will you go?’ His words were rasped and weary with tiredness.

  ‘I’ll stay with friends and maybe contact my mum again. I’ve not seen her for the best part of a decade. I think every child needs their mother, don’t you? Bye Scott, thank you for everything. I mean it.’ It was true, she did.

  Chloe turned to walk away. As she did so, she caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror on Scott’s bedside table. It had been a long evening and her skin was drained of colour. She looked at Scott and then back at herself again. How could a young, beautiful girl like her feel uglier than a man who had been beaten up to within an inch of his life? Someone covered with scars, bruises and dried blood. She didn’t know, but she did.

  She waved her hand at Scott as she left the ward. The action was weak and she was unable to complete it, allowing her hand to drop in mid-air.

  As she hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of the Palmer-Roberts residence she sank into the bank seat and cried. She cried for the loss of Scott, she cried for the loss of her job, for the joy she soaked up from Lexi and Leo. But she didn’t cry for Jack Christie. She didn’t cry for the man who had taken her virginity and been her first love, the man who had supported her through hard times. She didn’t cry for the man who had been shot dead in front of her very eyes earlier that evening. If she had wasted tears over his death, then surely that would make her even uglier. Hadn’t he finally received what he really deserved, whoever had pulled the trigger?

  Chloe returned home, not that it ever really had been her home, and packed her belongings. The children were staying elsewhere for the night. She was glad they weren’t there to see her go. Neither was Victoria. Maybe she’d stayed on at the event to be with Evie.

  Taking a sheet of paper from the printer, the same one she’d photocopied the invitation on to give to Jack for Evie’s event, she wrote out a note to Victoria explaining why she was going and that Scott was in hospital. She also explained why. They could all blame Jack but he’d now paid the ultimate price anyway. With that, she left the Palmer-Roberts household.

  She would have been long gone by the time Victoria read the note in the early hours of dawn the following morning had she not accidentally left one of her hurriedly packed bags on the kitchen floor by mistake. Chloe would have left it for good but her passport and driving licence were in there and if she managed to secure a nannying job abroad she would need them. She had to return for it. Her timing was lousy; Victoria had come home just a few minutes before. As Chloe grabbed the bag and went to leave, Victoria stepped out from the living room where she’d taken Chloe’s note to read.

  ‘I’m going …’ said Chloe.

  ‘Consider this a reference,’ said Victoria and with all of the might she could muster, she slapped Chloe across the face. It hurt her hand but was worth it.

  Chloe raised her hand to her cheek and said nothing. She knew she deserved it. Tears washed her eyes.

  ‘Oh don’t worry, I’m sure nothing’s broken,’ said Victoria. ‘I think you’ll find there are some things that can’t be broken, no matter what’s been hurled at them. My marriage for one.’

  Victoria held out her hand which was still smarting. ‘Now, the keys if you please.’ Chloe handed them over. ‘Now get out of my sight. I need to go and see my husband. Just as it should be.’

  Seventy-Six

  The other person admitted to hospital that night was Charlie Cooper. Not that he felt he needed to be.

  ‘It’s just a graze,’ he said to the male nurse wrapping the upper part of his right arm in protective white binding.

  ‘You were incredibly lucky,’ said the nurse. ‘It’s not everybody that comes in here with gunshot wounds and can go home smiling. The bullet must have just skimmed the outer part of your arm.’

  ‘Enough to make you bleed though,’ said Georgia who was stood, chewing at her fingernails, at the end of Charlie’s bed with Jacob and Nova. ‘I seriously thought you were dead when you fell to the floor.’

  ‘It would take more than some random bullet to cut me down in my prime,’ remarked Charlie, trying to make light of the fact that he could have died. ‘Not like that other poor bugger who copped it. Who was he?’

  ‘Apparently he’s a known criminal, Jack Christie,’ Jacob answered. ‘The police found a gun in his pocket, but it wasn’t the one that shot you. He won’t be using that again.’

  ‘When I think I could have lost my baby boy. It doesn’t bear thinking about!’ wailed Nova. She had been inconsolable ever since she had seen Charlie fall. ‘We will obtain you the best treatment possible, Charlie, and the person who fired that gun will be brought to justice. I will hire the whole of LAPD to find out who tried to kill you, or whatever the police are called over here.’

  ‘I think I’m in good hands, Mum.’ Charlie was trying to be as upbeat as he could in front of Nova. A hysterical Hollywood mother was the last thing he needed right now.

  ‘No offence, my dear boy.’ Nova was talking to the nurse. ‘But this is hardly Cedars-Sinai is it? We need to fly you back to LA, Charlie. I know a few plastic surgeons who could skin graft that arm so that it doesn’t scar. Nothing can spoil your beauty. I won’t have it.’

  ‘But it is only a surface wound. The bullet all but missed me. It’s hardly worthy of an episode of Botched, Mother.’

  ‘Mr Cooper is right,’ offered the nurse. ‘It’s unlikely that there will be any major scarring. I don’t think a plastic surgeon will be necessary, to be honest.’

  ‘Well, I’d like a second opinion and that will be given in Los Angeles, young man,’ stated Nova. ‘And I’ll have you know, Charlie, I am on good terms with all of the surgeons on that show and they are masters of their craft.’

  Surprisingly it was Georgia who backed Charlie’s mother’s idea. ‘I think you should, Charlie. What harm can it do? It will put Nova’s mind at rest, and mine too, to be honest. You can’t go back to work for a few days, so why not?’ Thoughts of LA filled Georgia’s mind. Not all of them strictly recuperative.

  Charlie looked at Georgia agog. ‘Really?’

  She nodded, apparently not prepared to take no for an answer. ‘It’ll be good for us to have a few days together as a family while you recuperate.’

  Charlie looked to Jacob for support. ‘But won’t the police want us to stay here for questioning?’

  ‘Well, I spoke to the officers at the event when you were coming here in the ambulance. They have no reason to believe that the bullet was meant for you. Given Jack Christie’s background they think it will probably have been some man he’s ripped off or done over along the way who was out for revenge. I’ve left the police my number so if they have any further enquiries and want to speak to any of us I am sure they can do, no matter what time zone we’re in.’

  ‘That is it, then,’ barked Nova. ‘It’s settled. We are leaving first thing in the morning. Can you arrange the plane tickets, Jacob? Eight first class seats.’ Nova paused for a second to reconsider. ‘Actually forget that, make it four first class – you, me, Charlie and Georgia and four premium economy for the others. I want no added
distractions for Charlie. He’ll need his rest.’

  ‘I’ll get Sarah onto it right away,’ said Jacob. ‘I’ll just pop outside and make the call. You don’t need to hear me talking business. Not tonight.’

  ‘I’m just going to fetch a coffee,’ said Georgia. ‘Anyone want one?’ She followed Jacob out of the room.

  ‘I think Nova’s right. Charlie should get a second opinion on his arm. There’s no harm in getting it checked over. And nobody is going to know plastic surgeons better than Nova if he does need one, are they?’

  ‘Good point, dear girl. Now I must go and sort these tickets.’ Jacob seemed in a hurry to leave. Georgia noticed his urgency.

  ‘Are you okay, Jacob? You seem a little flustered?’

  Jacob smiled and held his hands up. ‘You got me. I hate hospitals. Always have. They put me on edge. It’s the thought of all those life and death situations. It’s been quite a night and I need to sort these tickets so I’ll take the chance to get some air outside.’

  ‘Good job Charlie’s only suffering with a scratch then, eh? Just life, no death.’

  ‘Quite, now if you’ll excuse me …’

  ‘Just one thing, Jacob, can’t we all go first class? Seems a bit elitist shoving the others into premium economy, don’t you think?’

  Jacob smiled. ‘Georgia, if you think that for one minute I do everything Nova tells me then you’re sadly mistaken. It will be first class for all and my wife will have forgotten she even requested otherwise in the morning.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Georgia winked at Jacob. ‘Now how does Nova like her coffee?’

  ‘Strong and rich, how do you think?’ It was Jacob’s turn to wink back before he rushed off.

  Seventy-Seven

  As Nova and her party headed skywards the next morning, all eight of them seated in first class, Aaron Rose was just opening his eyes for the first time that day back at his Chelsea flat.

  ‘Jesus, I’ve slept like the dead.’ As his brain came into focus he realised what he had said. ‘Oh, maybe not the best turn of phrase given what happened last night, eh? That was quite a night, wasn’t it?’

  He waited for an answer. He was greeted by silence. Turning to face the other side of the bed he expected to see Tanya lying there. But the bed was empty. He reached out his hand and rubbed it along the sheets. They were cold. Either she had been out of the bed for a long while already or she hadn’t even climbed in there in the first place.

  Aaron cast his mind back to his actions prior to getting into bed. He’d poured them both a brandy when they’d returned to his flat and Tanya had flicked on the television. It was late, as they’d been among the last to be questioned by the police as to whether they had seen anything at Evie’s event or indeed knew the dead man. It was a double negative from them both.

  Tanya had been flicking through the channels and had come across a programme about Russia. Aaron had feigned interest for five minutes and then gone to bed. He didn’t remember Tanya joining him.

  Climbing out of bed, Aaron stretched and ran his fingers through his hair and beard. He walked into the front room of his apartment. There was no sign of Tanya. Instead, he saw a folded piece of paper with his name on it. He recognised the writing as Tanya’s. He picked up the paper and began to read.

  Tanya had been up most of the night packing her things into a small case. She hadn’t taken many things to Aaron’s in the first place. Looking back now she wondered if she had ever had any intention of doing so. Aaron was a wonderful man, but for Tanya the attraction only went as far as the biggest pound sign.

  She’d come from nothing. And with Devon she was used to having everything. To excess. Aaron could have been the richest gardener in the UK or the biggest action hero Hollywood had ever pumped steroids into but he would never compare to Devon. Devon was the one who had saved her. He had protected her from all of the harm and the hurt she’d experienced in her homeland and had made sure that her mother was looked after too. She couldn’t repay him by running off into the arms of another. Devon would always be her number one, even if she was tempted to stray from the path now and again. And even if their love was a strange one. A dangerous one. Maybe that was part of the attraction.

  They had an understanding. She knew that. She’d seen it in his eyes at the event. He was missing her just as much as she was him. She needed to return home.

  She hoped she was right.

  When Devon opened the door to her and held her in his arms, pulling her tight without saying a word, she knew that she was.

  There was an understanding between Victoria and Scott too. She hadn’t been married to the man for several years without knowing that they were indeed meant to be together.

  The sight of him lying there, all battered and bruised in his hospital bed, had shocked Victoria to her very heart. Just the thought of him being hurt sliced at Victoria’s senses. The thought of losing Scott, of not having him in her life, was too hard to even consider. She knew that now.

  As Chloe had done a few hours earlier, Victoria opened up to Scott about all that she had been feeling and going through; her thoughts about her own body, her resentment of those around her, the pill taking, her jealousy of her husband’s relationship with their now ex-nanny. It wasn’t the sexual relationship; that was something she could forgive (although not forget), but the way that they seemed happy when in each other’s company. She wanted to scream. She wanted to shout, to bang her hands on his chest and tell him that he should never put her through heartache like this again. Perhaps she would do. But right now it felt ill-timed.

  Victoria was determined to let her husband know that she could not envisage a future without him and that she hoped he would reconsider the divorce. His smile told him that he would.

  ‘I love you, Scott, you know that, don’t you?’ Victoria placed her hand in his. ‘Despite everything. I still do.’ He squeezed it tight.

  ‘I love you too.’ The words were slurred but the meaning was clear.

  Seventy-Eight

  The flight to LAX had been a routine one, which after recent events was just what was needed. Charlie slept most of the way, only stirring from his painkiller-induced slumber for meals. Georgia had spent her time talking to Sarah and Super Nova producer Mike, as they were all of a similar age. Meanwhile Nova and Jacob worked their way through the urgent emails that had mounted up during their time in the UK. Nova’s make-up artist and stylist were beside themselves with excitement that Lydia Hearst, star of The Face, actress, fashion model, blogger and heiress to a publishing fortune, happened to be on the same flight and seated only two spaces away from them in first class. They spent the entire time critiquing in great detail everything from Lydia’s fashionista choice in designer flight wear through to jewellery, hair style and shade and even nail polish.

  They had touched down in Los Angeles before any of them had really had a chance to think about the length of the actual journey.

  ‘Home sweet home,’ remarked Nova as she, Jacob, Georgia and Charlie pulled up in front of Chez Chevalier in her chauffeur driven Rolls Royce. ‘That was quite some trip, but after last night I am looking forward to some pure and golden Hollywood peace and quiet.’

  ‘Yes, because that happens all the time, doesn’t it?’ deadpanned Charlie, smirking at his mother. ‘The inhabitants of LA are famed for their love of peace and quiet.’

  ‘Well, you will be taking it easy for the rest of the day, Charlie Cooper, that’s for sure. And then first thing tomorrow we are taking you to the hospital to see about the need for a skin graft.’

  ‘I think I’ll be fine with a tube of antiseptic cream,’ said Charlie cheekily, but he knew it wasn’t worth arguing.

  For a Bel-Air household, especially one belonging to one of the biggest names in reality TV, life at the Chevalier household was incredibly normal that evening. Charlie was dozing in front of the television, Georgia by his side, while Jacob was in the kitchen making work phone calls. Nova was taking the cleaner, Juanita, t
o task about the state of one of the spare bedroom floors again. ‘Why do I pay you to clean up when at least one of the rooms is always littered with mess? If I had friends round to stay I’d be ashamed to bring them in here. I’d be the laughing stock of Hollywood. They’d be calling me dirty in the bedroom for all of the wrong reasons!’

  Georgia looked over at Charlie. He was fast asleep, evidently unable to keep his eyes open despite the delights of the flick they were watching. Georgia, not exactly gripped either, decided to vacate the sofa and consider the next angle to take to pursue the mystery of Mitzi. She needed to think carefully about her best friend and if the events of the night before had taught her one thing, it was that none of them could give up. She needed to believe that her friend was alive, or at least find out what had truly happened if an ending was ever to be achieved.

  Did Georgia have any clues left to explore? She wasn’t sure, but she had to try something.

  Georgia went to her bedroom and retrieved her MacBook Air. It was virtually out of battery. She grabbed her charger and walked through to the kitchen. She was certain her adaptor was still there from her previous visit. She waited by the door for a few minutes, allowing Jacob to finish his work calls. Far be it for her to interrupt when he was setting up the next potential guest slot on Champagne Super Nova. She wondered who it would be and listened in on his conversation.

  It was maybe two or three minutes later that Jacob finished his conversation. She walked in as he hung up the phone.

  ‘Making the wheels of TV industry work again, Jacob?’ she asked.

  ‘You know it,’ he answered, a little taken aback.

  ‘So who’s guesting next season, then? Anyone I’d know?’

  ‘We’re trying for Caitlyn Jenner and Bruno Mars, but you never know. Watch this space.’

  ‘Sounds promising. I just need to charge my MacBook. I think my adaptor is out here.’ She scanned the kitchen and located it on one of the granite breakfast bars.