Second Shot

by Zoe Sharp

  ‘Sorry, sorry,’ I said as I muscled my way in, scanning the rows of tiny bobble hats in front of me. ‘I’m looking for a child.’

  One harassed father looked over at me, laconic. ‘See anything you like?’

  Any other time, I would have laughed. Now I didn’t have time for a second glance as I worked my way further down.

  And then, just when I’d begun to panic, I spotted her.

  ‘Ella!’ I called sharply. ‘Come here!’

  She gave me a look that, regardless of her age, clearly said, Get real! and squirreled her way deeper into the crush as the sea lions dived back into the tank to a spattering of applause.

  I glanced back behind me. A moment ago Simone had been standing by the double doors leading back into the Aquarium proper, apparently enthralled by the show.

  Now she was gone, too.

  Oh shit.

  I hesitated just for a second, then went after Ella. The walkways were packed now, to the point where several people had hoisted their kids onto the fence surrounding the enclosure. I was a clear front-runner in the Miss Popular contest as I shoved my way through.

  At last, I managed to snag Ella’s sleeve before she could escape again and had her pinned. She squealed in mock outrage, giggling at the same time. Thoroughly embarrassed by the glares I was getting from just about everybody, I scooped her up into my arms. She kicked at me briefly, still laughing.

  ‘Ella, it’s not funny,’ I said as I hurried against the crush of bodies back towards where I’d last seen Simone.

  ‘’Tis,’ Ella said, still sniggering.

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ I said, frustration putting a bit of snap into my voice. ‘What if your mummy’s lost? What will you do then?’

  I reached the top of the ramp. To my left was a small deck area that looked out over a low fence to the harbour. It had the look of an exit about it, even though it wasn’t signed. I made a fast decision and darted down the short flight of steps, past a row of vending machines and the back of the fence round the sea lion enclosure. I could see the backs of the kids sitting precariously on the fence and hear the muffled commentary.

  I knew there was no logical reason for Simone to have come this way and I almost turned back. Surely she wouldn’t willingly leave her child behind, unless there was something amiss. I hefted Ella onto my hip and started to run.

  Round the corner was an open dock area filled with disused benches. By the time I’d reached it, something of my alarm had communicated itself to Ella, who was clinging on tight to my shoulder and chewing her hair.

  Then I rounded another corner to find Simone standing by the railing looking out over the choppy harbour. There was a man in a long tweed coat standing next to her. They were shoulder to shoulder, like they were admiring the view. He was pointing out one of the buildings on the skyline, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. Both their heads snapped up when I hove into view.

  ‘Simone!’ I said, annoyed and relieved at the same time.

  ‘Mummy!’ cried Ella, and promptly burst into tears.

  Simone turned away from the man and immediately swept Ella out of my grasp. Shame she hadn’t been so bothered about her child when she’d walked away from the sea lions, leaving us both high and dry.

  ‘She said you were l-lost,’ Ella sobbed, bottom lip wobbling.

  Simone gathered her close and shot me a daggered look.

  I didn’t bother trying to explain, just eyed the guy next to her with no small measure of distrust. He was possibly in his early thirties, blond-haired and good-looking.

  ‘Hey, I’m real sorry,’ he said easily, stepping forward and smiling. ‘We didn’t mean to scare you.’

  I noted the ‘we’. Fast mover. He had what I was coming to recognise as a Boston accent, a slight drawing out of particular vowels. He sounded genuinely contrite but I didn’t care.

  I glared at Simone. ‘You gave your daughter a fright, disappearing like that,’ I said, and heard the accusing note.

  Simone heard it, too, and bristled. ‘I’m sure she wasn’t worried until you frightened her,’ she said, glaring back. ‘I don’t need your permission to talk to people.’

  ‘That’s just it, Simone. Yes, actually, you do.’

  The guy’s smile had faded by this time. Ella, realising that attention had shifted away from her, began to wail louder.

  He edged back a step. ‘OK, I didn’t realise I was getting in the way of anything here,’ he said, and I could have sworn he sounded amused more than insulted. ‘I think I’d better give you two a few moments alone.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, without taking my eyes off Simone. ‘I think you better had.’

  He inclined his head to Simone, a ‘nice meeting you – but not that nice’ kind of a gesture, and sauntered away. Simone made soothing noises to Ella, who – once she’d reclaimed her star status – quickly allowed herself to be quietened. Simone shifted her onto her other hip and moved in close to me, her face tight.

  ‘Embarrass me like that in public again, Charlie,’ she bit out with quiet ferocity, ‘and you’re the one who’s going to need a bodyguard…’

  I took the pair of them up to the café on the second level and we sat looking out across the bright water drinking hot chocolate while Ella continued to sulk over a milk shake. The walls in the café were decorated with more sea lion art. The carefree brushwork was starting to grow on me. Certainly, I’d seen less impressive canvases in London galleries with four- and five-figure price tags.

  ‘We’ve got to have some ground rules here, Simone,’ I said, speaking low and trying to keep the temper out of my voice. ‘I can’t be in two places at once. I can’t protect both of you if you don’t stick together. If you’re not prepared to do that, I’ll have to call Sean and get him to send over more people.’ I was doing my best for cool professionalism but it sounded childish, even to my own ears. Do as I say or I’m telling on you!

  ‘I don’t want more people,’ Simone said through her teeth. ‘One’s bad enough!’ She shut up abruptly and looked away, staring at a ferry chugging across the harbour towards the airport.

  ‘So, who was that guy?’ I asked quietly. It took Simone a long time to answer. Stubbornness or embarrassment, I wasn’t sure which.

  ‘Just a guy,’ she said at last. ‘A nice, normal guy. Not someone who knows anything about—’ She broke off, checked about her, guilty. ‘About us,’ she muttered.

  ‘A nice normal guy,’ I echoed flatly. ‘You know that for certain, do you?’

  She sighed heavily, like a teenager told off for her choice of unsuitable boyfriend. I suddenly felt very old.

  ‘OK, he seemed very nice. Friendly. So, he flirted with me? So what?’

  ‘Simone, he could have been anyone,’ I said tiredly. ‘His sole purpose could have been to lure you out of there and I can’t believe he succeeded so easily.’

  ‘Oh yeah, sure, because of course I’m so ugly that no normal guy could possibly like me just for myself!’ she shot back, bitter. ‘I liked him,’ she added, her voice lower now.

  ‘Enough to leave Ella on her own to go for a quiet stroll with him?’ I said, and couldn’t quite keep the bite out of my voice.

  Simone’s eyes flashed a warning. Don’t criticise the way I bring up my daughter. ‘Ella was fine. She wouldn’t have moved from the sea lion enclosure until I came back for her.’

  And you know this because…you’ve left her alone like that before?

  I knew I was staring. I could see Simone gathering herself for a full-blown argument, and that was going to do us no good at all. However much I disapproved of Simone’s parental style, it had worked for her this far and there wasn’t much I could do about the past. The immediate future, however, was my responsibility.

  ‘Look, I know this is difficult for you – both of you,’ I said, as gently as I could, trying a smile. It crashed and burnt on both of them. I sighed. ‘I know you don’t like it, Simone, but you just have to accept that things are very
different now. You may have thought that this money wasn’t going to change you, and maybe it won’t, but everything around you has changed instead. It’s just up to you to make it a pleasure, not a burden.’

  She let her breath out fast down her nose, a habit I was getting used to. ‘OK,’ she said at last with the barest hint of a smile. ‘But now we’re away from… England,’ she added, checking Ella’s reaction, ‘surely there’s no real danger, is there? Nobody knows us here.’

  ‘Probably not, but I’m paid not to take chances.’

  She paused, seemed to consider that for a moment. ‘OK,’ she said again. ‘I’ll try not to make your life difficult.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And in return,’ she murmured, ‘you have to promise not to play gooseberry in the future, OK?’

  Ella stopped trying to noisily suck the bottom of her glass up through her bendy straw.

  ‘What’s a goo’berry, Mummy?’

  Simone switched the smile over to her daughter and for a moment I wondered how she was going to explain the concept of an unwanted third party on a hot date.

  ‘It’s a very sticky kind of fruit, sweetie,’ she said with a sly glance at me. ‘One that’s really difficult to get out of your hair.’

  We managed to get round the rest of the Aquarium without further incident. In the afternoon I followed Sean’s advice and directions from the concierge and took Simone shopping at the exclusive stores on Newbury Street, which proved an interesting experience.

  I’d shopped with millionaires before. One of the early jobs I’d done for Sean, back in the summer, involved several days accompanying the wives of an Arab sheikh round London watching them spend more in a few hours on jewellery and fashions than they could ever wear in a year – and more than I would ever find use for in a lifetime.

  Simone shopped in fits and starts. She blew hundreds of dollars in a very upmarket home furnishings place, almost on a whim, on a set of hideous glass vases that seemed totally out of place with what I could remember of her home décor and were going to be a pain to ship. Then later she dithered so much between two pairs of moderately priced shoes in one of the big department stores that she even taxed the patience of the professionally cheerful sales assistant, and ended up buying neither of them.

  The more the afternoon wore on, the more badtempered Simone became, snapping at Ella when she pestered for toys or sweets or clothes, then giving in to her on a giant stuffed teddy bear with a somewhat sinister expression, that I thought privately would give Ella serious nightmares if she woke in the dark and found it looming over her.

  And when I suggested calling for Charlie the limo driver to come and pick us up and take us back to the hotel, Simone turned on me, too.

  ‘How much is that gonna cost me?’ she demanded in a savage whisper. ‘More than a cab, huh? Just because you want to show off and ride in style doesn’t mean I should have to pay for it.’

  I waited a moment before I spoke, holding the eye contact until she let her end drop, flushing.

  ‘I don’t give a rat’s how I travel, Simone,’ I said when my silent count had reached double figures and I could speak in level tones. ‘But I do care about getting into a vehicle with you where I have some idea of who the driver is. Yes, I should imagine there will be a charge for using the limo service. No, off the top of my head I don’t know how much it will be. But even if it’s twice the cost of a cab, it’s worth it for the security it offers.’

  Ella, already fractious from her earlier power struggles with her mother, dragged at her sleeve and tried loudly to attract her attention. Not that the three of us weren’t getting plenty. And none of it good.

  I stepped in closer, lowered my voice. ‘Don’t give me a hard time on this, Simone. I will only spend as much of your money as I need to, to keep you both safe. Apart from that, I don’t give a damn how much you’ve got. I thought we’d been through all this once today, but if you really don’t want me to do my job, tell me now and I’ll be on the next flight out of here.’

  There were times afterwards when I wondered what might have happened if she’d agreed to that. As it was, we stood and faced each other with the soothing music of the store playing gratingly over our heads.

  ‘I apologise,’ she said, stiffly, at last. ‘Call the limo. I think I’ve about had enough for today.’

  I nodded without further comment and pulled out my mobile phone. It wasn’t until we were in the limo’s voluminous back seat, with Ella lying curled up on the thick leather upholstery next to her, and the giant bear glowering opposite, that Simone spoke to me again.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, still sounding as stiff and awkward as she had done in the department store. She stroked Ella’s curls, not looking at me. ‘You weren’t serious, were you?’ Simone asked in a small voice. ‘About leaving, I mean – about going home?’

  ‘I’ll stay as long as you want me to,’ I said. ‘On the condition that you understand I’m not trying to ruin your personal life, or part you from your money – for my own benefit or anyone else’s – OK?’

  She nodded again, letting her hair swing in front of her face. We rode in silence for a little while before she said, diffidently, ‘Do you think they’ll let me change my mind about those vases?’

  ‘I expect so,’ I said, and she sounded so forlorn I felt suddenly sorry for her. ‘I’ll call them for you, if you like, explain that your interior designer has gone into a fit of hysterics about your terrible taste.’

  That won me a tired smile. ‘I always thought that having a lot of money would make things easier, somehow.’

  ‘It doesn’t,’ I said. ‘It just makes the problems different. And some of them it just seems to make worse.’

  She nodded, sober. After a few minutes she said, ‘And they were pretty awful, weren’t they?’

  ‘The vases?’ I said, smiling. ‘Yes, they were.’

  Later, we ate in a small, Italian family diner in the historic North End. The restaurant – serving pizza and pasta, as you would expect – was recommended by Charlie the limo driver, who took us there and collected us again afterwards. It was small and cosy and both Simone and Ella looked a lot more at home there than in the grander surroundings of the hotel.

  It was still fairly early when we finished eating, but our stomachs were still working on UK time, running five hours ahead, which made a normal evening meal far too late for any of us to manage, least of all a four-year-old. As it was, Ella had fallen asleep again on the short ride from the restaurant back to the hotel, and Simone had to carry her.

  It bugged Simone, I could tell, that I didn’t offer to help cart Ella inside. Even after I’d explained that it would completely hamper my ability to do my job, I’m sure Simone suspected I was merely shirking.

  I did a casual sweep of the marbleclad lobby as we went through and noticed a woman hovering by the entrance to the gift shop. She was wearing a dark blue blazer over a polonecked sweater and jeans, and it only took me a moment to recognise her as Frances Neagley.

  My stride faltered and I got as far as opening my mouth to call back Simone, who was hurrying towards the bank of elevators ahead of us, but the private investigator shook her head quickly and pointed just at me, then made the universal gesture for drinking. I raised my eyebrows in question and she nodded. I held my hand up, fingers spread, to indicate I’d be back down to meet her in the bar in five minutes, and kept walking.

  In fact, by the time I’d settled mother and daughter in for the night it was more like half an hour before I could get back down to the lobby. Neagley had gone from her loitering position by that time, but I soon found her in the long, narrow bar, nursing a glass of Scotch and intently peoplewatching. When she noticed my approach she stood and indicated the empty seat opposite. She still hadn’t quite lost that wary air as she regarded me.

  ‘You wanted to see me?’ I said, neutral, returning the favour.

  ‘Yeah,’ she said shortly. ‘Sit down, Charlie. Drink?’

>   ‘Coffee would be good,’ I said carefully. A waiter came, took my order, and departed again. Silence fell, lying heavy.

  The bar was moderately busy, mainly with hotel guests having drinks before going out for their more conventionally timed dinners. I let my gaze trail over them while I waited for my drink to arrive. There was one big guy in a green sports jacket sitting alone at the bar who caught my eye. He had a watchful air about him, like he might be hotel security. Nobody else rang any alarm bells.

  ‘So,’ I said at last, turning back to Neagley, who had yet to speak, ‘are you going to tell me what the secrecy was all about? Have you found any trace of where your partner went? Who he might have spoken to?’

  ‘What do you know about this missing father of Simone’s?’ she asked abruptly instead.

  I paused, considering. ‘Not much,’ I admitted. ‘Simone claims she doesn’t remember him, so she hasn’t said much, and my job is just to…keep her company,’ I finished, suddenly not sure how much I wanted to reveal.

  Neagley made a small gesture of impatience. ‘Don’t mess with me, Charlie. You’re a bodyguard, not some kind of nanny.’

  The waiter returned at that moment with my cup of coffee. I didn’t speak until he’d gone again.

  ‘You’ve been doing some digging,’ I said then.

  ‘Yeah, well, it’s kind of in my job description,’ she agreed, sitting back and crossing her legs. She regarded me with slightly narrowed eyes, head tilted to one side. ‘As is finding out that Greg Lucas spent years in the SAS and had a rep as a real hard man.’

  I stilled, trying to work out if I’d known that information. Army chap, Harrington had said, implying some chinless wonder in the Guards. Neagley’s information changed things, but I still didn’t see what real significance it had. ‘So?’

  ‘So he’s the kind of guy who would know when someone was asking questions about him – and possibly have the abilities to get rid of that someone, if he did not want to be found.’

  I didn’t think it was good politics to let Neagley know that questioning the accidental nature of that accident had been my first thought. So I allowed my eyebrows to come up and asked, neutral, ‘You think he might have arranged for your partner’s crash? Run him off the road? Why?’