The Woman Who Knew Everything

by Debbie Viggiano

  ‘Are you okay?’ asked Steve.

  His voice was full of concern and, if Amber wasn’t very much mistaken, tenderness. She looked across the table at their hands linked together and had a weird moment of déjà vu. Somehow, she just knew these were the hands that would hold hers throughout the rest of her life. She looked up at Steve’s face and smiled.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m okay. I’m very, very okay.’

  Chapter Forty-Four

  When Chrissie walked into The Beagle and Bugle with Jack she was no longer bent double with pain, although her back was still aching. The drive hadn’t done her any favours. Her torso felt as stiff as a sixteenth-century maiden trussed up in a whalebone corset. A smiling waitress greeted them both.

  ‘Are you eating in, Jack?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, with a VIP guest,’ he grinned. ‘Tell Chef only the best will do for this lady,’ he nodded at Chrissie. The waitress regarded her curiously.

  ‘Take no notice of him,’ said Chrissie. ‘The only VIP in this case is Very Idiotic Plonker. Honestly, I’m no one special.’

  ‘To me you are,’ Jack quipped. For a moment Chrissie felt nonplussed. Just for a second there, Jack had made it sound as if she was special to him. ‘As far as I’m concerned, everyone who eats in my restaurant is a VIP,’ he added.

  Ah well, thought Chrissie wryly, it was nice to feel like I meant something for a moment.

  The waitress placed two menus on the table, and went off to fetch her notepad. Jack pulled out a chair for Chrissie, which she thought a nice touch. Andrew had never done that for her in all their time together. Jack sat down opposite, but instead of looking at the menu, his eyes sought hers. At such close proximity, it was both off-putting and intoxicating. Feeling awkward, she looked away and studied the menu for something to do. The dishes sounded mouth-watering, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to eat a thing. A net full of butterflies had taken off in her stomach and were causing havoc. She suddenly felt anxious. The last thing she wanted was to make an idiot of herself yet again in front of this man. As it was, his nearness was causing her emotional chaos.

  ‘So,’ Jack grinned mischievously, ‘will you be drinking my pub dry tonight? I seem to remember you’re rather partial to gin and tonic.’

  Chrissie looked up from the menu, her face reddening. ‘Most definitely not,’ she assured. ‘I’m not even a fan of the drink.’

  ‘You could have fooled me.’

  ‘Honestly, it was my friends’ fault.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Jack teased, raising his eyebrows.

  ‘I’m easily led,’ she said coquettishly. Oh, good heavens. Was she flirting?

  ‘I love a woman who is easily led,’ Jack bantered back. Dear Lord, now he was flirting.

  ‘Do you now?’ she said softly. H-e-l-p, who had given her voice box permission to speak in such a seductive tone?

  There was a pause where neither of them said anything. The air around Table Twelve had begun to positively crackle. Chrissie felt like she couldn’t breathe properly. Oxygen was going in and out of her lungs but at a ridiculous rate, like a bicycle tyre being over-zealously pumped up. At this rate, she’d end up hyperventilating. Either that or her lungs would burst.

  The moment was broken by the waitress reappearing. ‘Can I get you both some drinks?’

  ‘Water, please,’ Chrissie gasped.

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Yes,’ Chrissie nodded frantically, willing her heart rate to normalise. ‘I’m driving later.’

  ‘So shall we pretend it’s the bubbly stuff we’re drinking, but opt for mineral water?’ said Jack impishly.

  ‘That would be lovely.’ Just like you, she found herself thinking.

  ‘A bottle of our finest fizzy stuff,’ said Jack to the waitress, who wasn’t paying attention. Her eyes kept pinging over to a couple on the far side of the restaurant. Chrissie followed the waitress’s gaze, but could only see the tops of their heads. They were seated in a nook, which afforded privacy.

  ‘Hello? Earth to Katie!’ Jack flapped a menu at the distracted waitress.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ she said distractedly. ‘Right. So, where were we? Oh yes. Bubbles coming up! Are you ready to order?’

  Despite staring at the menu, Chrissie hadn’t taken much of it in. ‘You go ahead,’ she nodded to Jack, stalling for time.

  ‘Fillet steak with all the trimmings. Chef knows how I like it.’ He handed back the menu.

  ‘I’ll have the omelette,’ said Chrissie. She didn’t want Jack thinking she was an expensive date. Not that this was a date, but even so.

  ‘Are you a vegetarian?’ Jack asked in surprise.

  ‘No. I adore meat and I love a good steak,’ said Chrissie carelessly.

  ‘Then why don’t you have one?’

  ‘Oh! Because…because…I’m not that hungry,’ Chrissie finished lamely.

  But Jack wasn’t stupid. ‘You don’t have to penny pinch, you know. This is on me. I caused you grievous bodily harm,’ he winked, ‘purely accidental of course,’ he added for the waitress’s benefit, not that she seemed interested. Her eyes were back on the couple in the nook. Chrissie wondered why. ‘Er, Katie?’ Jack prompted.

  ‘Okay, got that,’ the waitress said, but even as she responded her eyes returned to the couple in the corner. It was clear the two of them – or maybe it was just one? – had her interest. ‘Two fillets of fish coming up.’

  ‘Steak,’ Jack corrected.

  ‘That’s what I said.’ Katie flashed a smile, took the menus and disappeared.

  Jack sighed theatrically. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes you can’t get the staff.’

  Chrissie giggled. ‘I’m sure whatever we end up with, it will be delicious.’

  The waitress returned with an ice bucket and opened bottle of champagne. ‘Bubbles,’ she said cheerfully.

  Chrissie looked alarmed. ‘It was meant to be mineral water.’

  Katie raised her eyebrows. ‘Jack? I could have sworn you said a bottle of our finest fizzy stuff.’

  ‘I did,’ said Jack, ‘but I meant…oh, never mind.’ He followed the waitress’s gaze. ‘Whoever he is, Katie,’ Jack lowered his voice, ‘he’s already partnered up.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said, flushing guiltily. ‘Do you want me to pour?’

  ‘No thanks. I can see you’re having vision problems and we’d like it in our glasses. Not over the linen.’ The comment was lost on Katie, who smiled vacantly and left them in peace. Jack picked up the bottle. It hovered over Chrissie’s glass. ‘A small one?’

  ‘Go on then,’ she smiled. ‘See? I told you I’m easily led.’

  ‘In that case I might ply you with champagne and suggest you sleep in my bed tonight,’ said Jack playfully. ‘I’d take the sofa, of course,’ he added, but his eyes were twinkling with mischief again.

  ‘You mean to say you’d lead me to your bed and then abandon me?’ Chrissie twinkled back. Dear God in heaven, if you are listening please control my mouth. It keeps failing to consult with my brain before speaking. She hadn’t even tasted the champagne yet, and was behaving like she was half-sloshed. This was all Andrew’s fault. She’d been so well and truly under his thumb, so submissive, that now she was footloose and fancy free she was off like a dog wagging its tail at the first sight of the local stray coming over to say hello. Except Jack was no bit of rough. Jack was very debonair. And, after the bit of rough Chrissie had been shacked up with, a bit of smooth was proving seductively nice.

  Jack’s lips twitched. ‘If you didn’t want me to abandon you, you’d only have to say.’ His tone was teasing, but Chrissie knew for sure he was flirting. ‘I must say,’ he murmured, ‘I absolutely love your hair. In fact,’ Jack reached across the table and tentatively took one of Chrissie’s hands, ‘please don’t think I’m in the habit of saying this to all the ladies, but I absolutely love everything about you.’

  Suddenly Chrissie had a bizarre feeling of having already exper
ienced this situation. From nowhere she heard Madam Rosa’s voice, as if the clairvoyant was whispering in her ear.

  The King of Swords depicts an invitation for a love relationship, and the Eight of Wands signifies a very fast-moving time frame. Expect things to happen in two or three days – give or take a few seconds.

  Flipping heck. Maybe, just maybe, Madam Rosa was right. The old Chrissie would have snatched her hand back, stammered an excuse and fled. But this was the new Chrissie. The daring Chrissie. And this Chrissie suddenly felt very up for seeing exactly what might come out of tonight’s dinner date with the smoulderingly handsome Jack.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Dee strode out of her block of flats and towards the residents’ private car park. She had one arm extended like a Dalek, key fob pointing at her car. Seconds later she was lowering herself into the driver’s side and firing up the engine. Her confrontation with Josh and Emma had left her with so much adrenalin zipping around her body, she felt like she was shaking faster than a wet dog getting out of the bath at a pooch parlour. Her hands clenched against the steering wheel as she screeched out of the car park, leaving tyre rubber on the tarmac.

  Calm down, Dee, they’re not worth it, she told herself as she hurtled along the main road. She was fizzing and popping with fury, like a firework on the verge of explosion. She roared towards a pedestrian crossing just as a group of teenagers stepped off the kerb. Dee slammed her foot against the brakes, leaving more tyre rubber on the road. At this rate there would be no tread left. The last thing she wanted was a driving licence decorated with black stars.

  She cringed as a police car drew level in the adjacent traffic lane. Oh-God-oh-God-oh-God, please don’t let them have seen me driving like a lunatic. I’m sorry, God. Please forgive me. I’ll never drive beyond thirty miles per hour again. I promise.

  God must have been listening because the police car cruised past her leaving Dee hyperventilating behind the steering wheel. Her legs felt so weak it was like her thigh bones had melted, leaving her jeaned legs flopping uselessly against the car seat.

  Carefully, Dee pulled away from the pedestrian crossing. She accelerated slowly until she was cruising along at thirty miles per hour. From now on she would allow nobody, least of all Josh and Emma, to interfere with her concentration. In no time at all, a stream of traffic had built up behind her. Dee glanced in the rear-view mirror. A lorry was almost touching her bumper. Seconds later the driver hit his horn causing Dee to violently jump. Her nerves were fraying faster than knackered knicker elastic. She was in no mood for harassment. I’m driving within the speed limit, dipstick! Where were her police officer buddies when she needed them?

  The lorry gave the horn again. Furious, Dee spotted a side turning and indicated. She wasn’t usually given to ill manners, but right now she was madder than Donald Trump and Kim Jong-un discussing nuclear weapons. Buzzing down the window, she stuck her entire arm through the aperture. She couldn’t remember whether the one-fingered-salute was with the index or middle finger. She opted for the second finger and, pointing at the sky like Superman, turned off the main road. She could hear the lorry driver shouting, ‘You stupid tart. Go sit on it.’

  Dee exhaled shakily. She was now driving down an unknown road, leaving behind the town and its residential roads. The scenery gave way to fields dotted with electric pylons and travellers’ pinto ponies. She had no idea where she was going, and right now she didn’t care. She crossed intersections that looked vaguely familiar, but stuck resolutely to the unfamiliar route she was on. After twenty minutes, her heart rate had settled down again. She spotted a sign for Sevenoaks. Hmm. She wasn’t a million miles from Seal. Had her subconscious been planning this all along?

  Dee drew up outside Harrison Hunter-Brown’s house. Now she was here, she might as well tell him in person that she wouldn’t be going ahead as a client. After all, she no longer required any information about the mysterious Emma. She’d been presented with all the proof she’d ever needed right down to what the woman looked like. And yes, Emma did have a big nose. It would be great for poking into Josh’s business, if they ever properly got together. No doubt Josh would lie through his back teeth about Dee, insisting she’d made everything up about reunions and marriage proposals.

  Dee walked up to the front door just as Harry opened it. As previously, the sight of him momentarily took her breath away. He was as heart-stoppingly gorgeous as ever. She had a peculiar feeling of repeating their last meeting, except this time no tearful client came out of his property.

  ‘Hello,’ said Harry smiling. For some reason, he felt ridiculously pleased to see her. ‘I saw you pull up through my kitchen window.’

  Hi,’ said Dee, suddenly aware the time was getting on. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting your evening.’

  ‘Not at all. I’m not working tonight. In fact, I was about to stick a microwave dinner in the oven.’

  Dee gave a half-smile. ‘You too? I was going to do the same. But then my boyfriend returned home, swiftly became an ex-boyfriend, and I’ve left him packing his stuff.’

  ‘Ah. I’m sorry to hear that,’ Harry sympathised, although he found himself feeling secretly pleased at this news. How peculiar. And not very charitable, he sternly told himself.

  ‘So, as I was in the area,’ Dee realised her words sounded a bit ridiculous given that her address was hardly around the corner, ‘I thought I’d stop by and tell you that surveillance won’t be required.’ She studied her feet for a moment. When she looked up again her eyes were shiny. ‘Thank you for your time. It was very kind of you. Are you sure I don’t owe anything for the initial consultation?’

  Harry looked at the pretty young woman standing on his doorstep. She had about her an air of vulnerability. He felt an inexplicable rush of tenderness towards her. How strange. At that moment, there was the sound of a stomach growling with hunger. Hers, not his.

  ‘Listen,’ he said kindly, ‘I’m absolutely ravenous, and I know you’ve not eaten either. Would you care to join me for dinner?’

  Dee looked startled. ‘That’s very nice of you, but microwave dinners don’t usually stretch to two people.’

  Harry laughed, and Dee noticed how his whole face lit up. He really was incredibly attractive. ‘Come on,’ he said, picking up his house keys from the hall table and shutting the front door after him. ‘There’s a great little pub near here, and it does the most amazing food.’

  ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble,’ said Dee. ‘Hang on,’ she stalled. ‘Oh no…I’ve come out without my handbag and purse.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ said Harry, leading the way to his car. ‘My treat.’

  ‘B-but,’ Dee stuttered, ‘I feel terrible. And I look terrible too.’

  ‘You look fabulous,’ Harry assured, and he meant it. Dee seemed perfectly oblivious to how cute she looked with her short, tousled hair and sweet elfin face. Not to mention those full pink lips that looked extremely kissable. For a moment Harry’s step faltered. What was going on here? Where were these thoughts and feelings coming from? He’d only ever regarded Dee as a potential client – until this evening. How very odd.

  ‘Well, in that case,’ said Dee, ‘you must let me return the favour, and take you out to dinner next time.’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Dee inwardly cringed. Oh no. She hoped he didn’t think she was trying to chat him up.

  ‘Consider it a date,’ grinned Harry. As he opened his car’s passenger door for Dee, he realised he truly did want to see this woman again.

  ‘Okay,’ Dee smiled shyly at him, before lowering herself into the passenger seat, ‘you’re on.’ Suddenly Josh and Emma seemed a universe away. It was as if the events of the last hour had stretched to a decade ago. How bizarre. She buckled up and glanced across at Harry as he settled himself into the driver’s seat. He caught her gaze and gave her a thousand-watt smile that set her pulse rate galloping.

  ‘For the record,’ said Harry, ‘I think your ex-boyfr
iend is mad letting you walk away. I hope that doesn’t sound like a chat-up line.’ Although privately Harry wanted nothing more than to chat up Dee. She was having a very strange effect on him.

  ‘Thanks,’ Dee mumbled, half embarrassed and half delighted. A sudden draught played around the nape of her neck. As she glanced up at the passenger window to make sure it was shut, she heard Madam Rosa’s voice whisper in her ear.

  The Ten of Cups. This card often appears for singles with no apparent build-up at all. On these occasions, it has always been quite literal – a new love relationship that arrives and takes off at the rate of knots. This is usually of the “sweep you off your feet” variety where love walks in unannounced and everything just immediately clicks.

  Dee shivered, but not because she was cold. It was more a quiver of anticipation. Of waiting for something wonderful to happen – and she had no doubt it would. She wasn’t particularly surprised when Harry parked up outside The Beagle and Bugle. Nor, when she walked in, was she astonished to see Chrissie and Jack nose-to-nose on one side of the pub, and Amber and Steve holding hands over the table to her right. There was a waitress trying to catch Steve’s eye, but Dee could see the only woman Steve had eyes for, was Amber.

  ‘I think you’ll like it here,’ said Harry, tentatively taking her hand.

  As Dee’s fingers intertwined with his, lovely zingy tingles whizzed up and down her arm. ‘I think you might be right,’ she smiled.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  One year later

  Dee admired the sparkling diamond on her left hand as she picked up the ringing telephone.

  ‘Hunter-Brown Agency, how can I help you?’

  ‘Hello?’ squawked a distressed voice. ‘I want to hire a detective.’

  ‘That can be arranged,’ said Dee, in a soothing tone. ‘Let me take some details.’ She opened a new client page on the computer. ‘Who do you wish the agency to investigate?’

  ‘My boyfriend,’ sobbed the woman. ‘I think he’s having an affair.’