by Lee, Mandy
‘I’m going to need you, Lily.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we’re getting married next summer.’
She nods, plays with the cord on her dressing gown.
‘And I’m having a baby.’
The fingers come to a halt. Her lips twitch, threatening to break into a smile.
‘He doesn’t know yet.’ I glance at the door. ‘So, don’t say a word. It’s early days. I’ve only just found out. This is between you and me for now. I’m only telling you because I want you to be godmother.’ I give her a moment to take in the news. ‘So, do whatever you need to do. Fight back, and don’t lose any of your life to this.’
‘But I don’t know where to start.’
And I’m the last person who should be giving advice.
‘Get some counselling,’ I suggest, rummaging around for anything vaguely sensible. ‘Put on your glad rags. See your friends. Do your charity stuff. Be Lily Babbage again.’
‘Is it that simple?’
‘Probably not.’ I smile wryly. ‘But it’s a start. And I’ll be with you every step of the way.’
This time, she squeezes my hand.
‘And I’ll tell you what else is a start,’ she smiles back. ‘I’m pulling out of that fucking apartment. I can’t live there, not after what happened.’
‘There you go. Fists up.’
‘Fists up,’ she echoes.
There’s a quiet knock at the door. Dan reappears.
‘Can I come back in?’ he asks. ‘Your parents are giving me an earful.’
Lily nods. While Dan takes his place back by the fire, I give her a raised eyebrow, reminding her to keep a lid on our secret.
‘So, are we okay?’ he asks.
‘We will be,’ Lily confirms. ‘Congratulations.’
‘On what?’
‘Getting married. Maya told me.’
‘Oh. Well, thank you.’ He smiles briefly, before fixing Lily with a super-serious gaze. ‘Listen, I know this is painful for you, but I need to know something.’ He pauses. ‘How did you meet Boyd?’
‘Is it important?’
‘It could be.’ He rubs his chin. ‘It’s been playing on my mind. You’re not exactly easy to bump into, Lil. You get driven everywhere, your shopping’s done for you, you move in pretty elite circles. Where did you meet him?’
‘At a party.’ She shakes her head. ‘A friend introduced us. Well, I say a friend. She’s an acquaintance really. I haven’t known her that long.’
‘What’s her name?’
I know the answer before it’s even escaped from her mouth.
‘Claudine.’
I look at Dan. The mask’s in place. No trace of shock.
‘How long have you known her?’ he asks.
‘I met her last autumn, I think.’
His eyes flit to me.
‘So, she’s been scheming all along, even before she got hold of Boyd. God knows what she’ll do now he’s gone.’
‘She’ll stop,’ I tell him.
‘Will she?’
‘She’s got nothing more on you.’
‘What’s going on?’ Lily demands. ‘Do you know her?’
‘A woman with a grudge,’ Dan explains. ‘But why weren’t you suspicious? She’s the one who caused all the trouble at The Savoy.’
She shakes her head, confused.
‘She was there with Isaac,’ he presses.
‘I sold her tickets, but I don’t know anyone called Isaac.’
‘The one I ...’ He waves a hand.
‘The one you duffed up? I didn’t see. I followed Maya out. By the time I got back, it had all blown over. I didn’t see Claudine. Nobody mentioned her name. I didn’t know she had anything to do with it.’
‘She took off. Isaac was close behind.’ He runs his fingers through his hair. ‘Stay away from her. She’s poison.’
‘So, you’ll tell the police? You’ll tell them she was involved?’
‘No,’ Dan smiles. ‘She’s not broken the law and she’ll give them nothing. Besides, I don’t need the police. I’ll deal with this my own way. We’ll see you again later in the week, Lil. Look after yourself.’ He steps forward and holds out a hand to me. ‘We need to go.’
It’s almost an hour later, after a near-silent drive through mid-morning traffic chaos, and I’m standing in front of yet another Georgian townhouse, this time in Belgravia, and it’s one I’ve visited before. Guarding me from view on a higher step, Dan stands in front of me.
‘Sure about this?’ he asks.
‘Of course I am. Partners, remember?’
The truth is I don’t want Dan ending up in trouble. Over the next few minutes, it’s highly likely he’ll lose sight of his temper, and I need to be on hand to keep him under control. He nods uncertainly, and presses the bell. It doesn’t take long for the call to be answered.
‘Goodness me. Look what’s crawled out from under a stone.’
I can’t see him, but the sound of his voice sends a prickle down my neck.
‘Got a few minutes, Isaac?’ Dan asks. ‘For old times’ sake?’
‘What’s the matter? Come to your senses?’
‘Yes.’
A sickening belly laugh.
‘I’m not surprised.’ Warmth slips into the walrus’s tone. ‘It’s been all over the news. Man falls to his death at the Concordia. For a while, I thought it was you, but they confirmed the name this morning. Apparently, there was some sort of a fracas. Nice bruises. I’m assuming you were involved.’
‘Correct.’
‘That’s two near-death experiences now. They say it changes a man.’
‘It certainly does.’
‘Well, you’d better come in.’
Without warning, Dan stands back, revealing my presence. I look up at the drooping features, the grey eyes that miss nothing, and I feel distinctly nauseous.
‘Oh,’ he sighs, pursing his slobbery lips in dismay. ‘On second thoughts, I don’t really have time.’ He shakes his head. Rolls of flab wobble under his chin.
‘Then I suggest you make time,’ Dan replies coldly. ‘After all, it’s in your interest.’
The grey eyes examine me, and then return to Dan. Without another word, he stands back, allowing us into the hallway before closing the door and leading us through to his gloomy study. Eyeing up the erotic paintings, the manacles and whips hanging on the walls, I inch my way into the room, coming to a halt at the edge of the worn rug, just behind Dan.
‘You’re in luck. My little chick’s here.’ Isaac motions to one of the two Chesterfields where, draped in a crimson silk dressing gown, Claudine’s currently sipping on a glass of red wine. Without offering a seat, Isaac lowers himself onto the second chair and picks up his whisky. ‘We were just having a chat. Claudine’s very upset.’
‘Really?’ Dan asks. ‘What’s the matter? Did she break a nail?’
‘You got away with murder,’ Claudine purrs, crossing her legs and making absolutely sure the dressing gown falls away from her crotch.
‘Self-defence.’
‘You killed my friend.’
I try to move forward, but I’m held back by a strong arm.
‘He wasn’t your friend and I didn’t kill him: two facts you need to understand.’
‘Murder,’ she breathes.
‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ Dan complains. ‘What is this? Some pathetic vendetta for a man you hardly knew?’
‘Justice.’ Her green eyes flash at me, cat-like.
‘Justice,’ Isaac repeats, taking a sip of whisky. ‘The backbone of civilisation. Wherever there’s crime, there must be justice.’ He examines his glass. ‘Now, whatever you say, Daniel, we all know you were responsible for poor Mr Boyd’s demise.’
‘You weren’t there.’
‘But I know what sort of a man you are.’ Eyes charged with vitriol, he glares at Dan. ‘You might have fooled the police, but you don’t fool me. You’ve clearly escaped the justice you deserve, but I can still make sure
you’re punished.’
I take a peek at Claudine. A twisted, self-satisfied grin’s just landed on her face.
‘If I remember rightly,’ Isaac drawls, ‘you attacked me at The Savoy, and then ransacked my lovely gentlemen’s club. Plenty of witnesses all round. I could always press charges.’ He lowers his voice. ‘I gave him a chance, m’lud. That’s why I delayed. But he wouldn’t leave me alone. Harassment, m’lud. Pure and simple.’
I brace myself, ready to hold him back, but Dan’s unbothered.
‘You can try it,’ he says. ‘And I guessed you might. But before you do, let’s get a couple of things straight here.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Lily Babbage.’
Claudine stirs.
‘You put her in touch with Boyd. You endangered her life. Not to mention what you did to Maya. The pair of you set up that ambush at The Savoy. You put her in serious danger, more than once.’
Isaac raises his glass. ‘All part of the service.’
‘You’re a sick fuck, Isaac. I’ll never forget what you’ve done.’
‘No skin off my nose.’
‘And now Boyd’s gone, I’m not stupid enough to think that’s the end of it.’
Claudine’s grin deepens, twisting further, transforming her into a grotesque caricature.
‘You’re obsessed with me, Claudine. I’ve no idea why, but I know this. When you realised you couldn’t have me, you decided to destroy everything I had, and that’s just plain nasty.’ As if he’s reprimanding a small child, he shakes his head. ‘So, go to the police and press charges. Do what you like, but remember this. You’re getting nothing out of me. Neither of you.’ He pauses again, holding a finger in the air. ‘Not unless we’re talking about evidence of tax avoidance.’
‘What are you going on about?’ Claudine demands, scowling now.
‘Tax avoidance,’ Dan repeats. ‘Not yours, of course. You don’t pay tax.’ He levels the finger, aiming it straight at Isaac’s head. ‘His. Little scams here and there. Creative accountancy.’
I gaze in admiration at my fiancé. In amongst everything else, he’s obviously found time to think about the future, putting together back-up plans for every single possibility. Some things about Dan are never going to change, and right now, I’m pretty glad about it.
‘You have no proof,’ Isaac growls.
‘You want to try me?’
‘I have friends.’
‘If you mean Richard Dean, he’s no longer interested in your friendship.’
‘You need to go.’
‘But I’m not finished yet,’ Dan announces, suddenly breezy. ‘I thought we could talk about Claudine and that illustrious Member of Parliament. Isn’t he Foreign Secretary now? I’ve got some photos. Pretty sordid stuff, to be honest. I’d rather look at paint drying, but I’ve got them locked away safely for a rainy day.’
‘You wouldn’t …’ Claudine gets to her feet.
‘Ruin you publicly?’ Dan cuts in. ‘Let your poor mother know what you really get up to behind closed doors?’ He laughs. ‘She wouldn’t be welcome back at the WI after that.’
I watch as Claudine’s lips part in shock, and I can’t help myself. I begin to snigger.
‘So,’ Dan goes on, ‘if I ever hear from either of you again, if you ever try to worm your way back into our lives, I’ll bring you down, both of you. Don’t doubt it.’
Goggle-eyed, Claudine stares at Dan, and then she turns to me.
‘Oh, it’s funny, is it?’ she sneers. ‘Haven’t you got anything to say for yourself, sewage mouth?’
‘Actually, yes.’ I bite back the laughter and hold up the middle finger of my left hand, making sure she sees the engagement ring in the process. ‘Fuck you, Claudine. Fuck you, you sad piece of shit.’ I lower my hand and smile at Dan. ‘I think that should do it.’
‘Hear, hear, sewage mouth,’ he looks at me, proudly. ‘Couldn’t have put it better myself.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
I flush the toilet and lower the lid. Today’s a bad day. I’ve felt sick ever since I woke up this morning. I don’t know whether it’s pregnancy-related, or the thought of what’s going to happen later. Whatever it is, my stomach’s churning and curdling and generally refusing to keep anything down. I gaze at the pale face in the mirror, reassuring myself with the thought that maybe later a little sympathy and support might come my way. But for now, I need to go it alone. I wash my hands, rinse my face, and make my way back out into the office.
‘Are you okay?’ Dan asks. Dressed in jeans and a shirt, sitting back in an office chair with his feet up on a box, he’s already made himself at home.
‘Yeah, fine.’
‘Were you just sick?’
‘Er … a little bit.’
While I perch myself on his new desk, he studies me suspiciously.
‘I think it was the bagel I had for breakfast.’
‘A plain bagel?’
‘It didn’t taste right.’
He’s about to probe further when I’m saved by Lucy’s appearance.
‘The Steves are here,’ she announces, waving a pile of papers about. ‘They’re waiting upstairs. And these are all the sales from the past six months.’ She hands the pile to Dan. ‘I’ve put them in order. They’re logged on the computer.’
‘I want you to write to all the regulars.’ He begins to rifle through the sheets. ‘Explain the gallery’s closing for a couple of months for renovations. We’re looking at February and March. And get in touch with the press while you’re at it. I want them here for a shindig. I want to reveal the plans. And contact all the artists on the books. Explain everything to them.’ He picks up a card and waves it at Lucy. ‘There’s an exhibition at The Slade. We’ve been invited. Confirm my attendance, and Maya’s.’
‘Would you like me to wipe your arse while I’m at it?’ Lucy grins.
Well, I’m willing to bet Carla’s never spoken to him like that. I’m half-expecting him to sack her on the spot. Instead, his lips curl upwards.
‘No, thank you,’ he grins back. ‘I’ve got Maya to do that.’
‘Dan!’ I snap.
‘Sorry, darling.’
He goes back to searching through the paperwork.
‘Why are you in such a rush?’ I demand. ‘You don’t even own this place yet.’
‘As of next week, I do. Can’t rest on my laurels. And I need to go back into Fosters tomorrow.’
‘Already? One day off?’
‘It’s all I need.’
‘After what you’ve been through …’
‘There’s a lot to do, going public with the sale, negotiations, that sort of shit.’
I settle into a grump, wondering if he’s really changed at all. After everything that’s happened, after all the promises, it’s only Monday and he’s straight back into taking on the world at top speed. As soon as he woke up this morning, he was itching to get into Slaters.
‘What happened to smelling the roses?’ I ask.
He gazes up at me.
‘I meant it, every word of it. But I need to get things rolling.’ He takes hold of my hand. ‘And then I’ll slow down.’
‘And what about the operation?’
He shrugs. ‘I’ll slip it in.’
‘You promised.’
‘After Christmas.’ His eyes glimmer. ‘I want to enjoy some time with you first.’
‘How can you do that while you’re in pain?’
‘Pain?’ Lucy interrupts. ‘What pain?’
‘His leg,’ I explain. ‘Constant pain. He needs another operation …’
Before I can go any further, Dan’s speaking again.
‘I can deal with it. I don’t fancy another few weeks in plaster, not yet. There’s too much to do …’
‘January,’ I insist.
‘You can still work in a wheelchair,’ Lucy chirps.
Dan glares at her. ‘That’s not going to happen.’
‘Well, whatever,’ she glares
back. ‘You’re getting it done. In January.’
Open-mouthed, he looks from Lucy to me, then back again.
‘Am I being ganged up on?’
‘You most definitely are,’ Lucy confirms. ‘And I’ll get Clive in on it too, if you’re not careful.’
‘Seems like you’ve got no choice,’ I add.
He slides the paperwork onto the desk and holds up his hands in defeat.
‘Fair enough. January.’
‘So.’ Lucy switches her attention to me. ‘Did you show him the studio?’
‘Yes.’
She claps her hands. ‘What did he think of the portraits?’
‘Fucking wonderful.’ Taking his feet off the desk, he sits up straight. ‘I want to show them.’
‘What?’ I gasp. ‘Where?’
‘Well, here of course. Before the renovation. On the press night.’
‘But …’
‘We do landscapes and seascapes,’ Lucy reminds him.
‘And now we do portraits. We’re branching out a little. Not too much.’ He stands up. ‘This is a new era, Lucy, and that means a few changes … and maybe a second gallery.’
‘What?’ I gasp again.
‘Don’t worry, sweet pea.’ He touches the end of my nose. ‘I’ll run it by you before I make any decisions. Now, shall we go upstairs?’
We find the Steves lounging together on a sofa. Without a care in the world, they’re busy studying an atlas.
‘Oh, here he is,’ Little Steve calls out. ‘He who shall not be named.’
‘Nice to see you too.’ Dan takes a seat opposite, motioning me into place next to him.
‘Good news. We’ve decided to forgive you. For everything.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
‘And your American friend.’
‘He’ll be pleased.’
Big Steve closes the atlas, shuffles over to let Lucy join him, and nudges Little Steve in the side.
‘Oh yes,’ Little Steve goes on, prompted by the nudge. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, Dan, but I need to ask you something. Are you sure he’s not gay?’
‘Absolutely,’ Dan shoots back quickly.
‘It’s just that he dances like a queen.’
‘He’s not gay. Shall we change the subject?’
‘Mmm.’ Big Steve studies Dan’s face, evidently searching for signs of lying. ‘So, you two are getting married?’ he asks, evidently giving up.