‘So, why …?’
‘He seems to have saved that accent just for you.’
‘That’s a bit weird.’ Lottie squirmed.
‘How long was he a stable hand for your dad?’ Hannah asked.
‘Not long. A couple of weeks or so. As soon as my dad got wind that he was shagging the boss’s daughter, it was goodbye, Chen.’
‘And that’s the other thing he saved just for you. No one else knows him as Chen.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘His real name is Vincenzo. After his Italian grandad.’ Hannah was enjoying disclosing all the details she’d managed to find out.
‘Vincenzo! That’s quite a mouthful; is that what the lads call him?’
‘Close.’
‘Huh?’ Lottie looked confused.
Hannah revealed her final fact with gusto. ‘As if we didn’t have enough with your evil stepdad and my imaginary business partner, it would seem your fake foreign lover likes to be known as Vinnie!’
55
Vincent – 2019
It was all in place. His fake ID was ready to collect. That arsehole ought to give him a frequent customer discount. Instead he charged an extortionate amount for a simple driver’s licence and a passport. Still, no point crying over spilt milk, as, for some unknown reason, the English liked to say. Vincent Royal was ready to start his life. The money was moved. The apartment was sold, albeit for an absurdly low cash price. By this time next week, Abbie would find that her fiancé was nowhere to be seen.
It’d been a stroke of genius proposing to her. The stupid bitch had fallen for it. Anyone with half a brain would think to question his sudden change of heart, but not her, not ‘thick as pig shit’ Abbie. He’d asked the all-important question, and she’d squealed with delight. He’d seen how her eyes had glazed over when he’d promised they’d go shopping for a ring together. The little madam was already planning on choosing an enormous rock. Self, self, self, that’s all she could think of. Vincent couldn’t abide selfish people. Why wasn’t she thinking of him and what he wanted? Didn’t she realise her stupidity had landed them in this situation? Abbie had single-handedly ruined the opportunity he had to make a go of things with Grace, and for that he hated her.
She’d offered to take him to bed to celebrate, even mentioning the prospect of a blow job, like the old days. But he’d declined. Mumbling that the mother of his child should never do such a thing with her mouth, he’d chosen instead to persuade her to go back home. He could not bring himself to engage in any sexual act whatsoever with her. She was an utter cow. A scheming trickster. He would never again allow her the pleasure of going within a foot of his dick.
After she’d left, he’d contemplated whether there really was a baby. Did he have an heir on the way? It was impossible to tell at this early stage. Short of insisting on seeing a pregnancy test, he had to rely on her word, and demanding proof might well anger her dad. No, it was best to just tell himself she was lying. Heaven forbid he might develop a conscience and feel the need to stick around and see his son. Vincent knew if there actually was a baby, then it would be male. But, no, he mustn’t give it another thought. If there really was a little Rocchino on the way, it would be so much better if he was long gone by the time Abbie lay on her back demanding every drug imaginable, and insisting she was too tired to push. Lazy fucking bitch!
As he left the apartment to collect the ID, Vincent thought he saw Cristina. This was becoming a bit of a habit. First there was that day at the restaurant, when he’d briefly assumed one of the diners was his sister. Then, in the last week or so, he’d thought he’d seen her on a couple more occasions. The woman he’d seen recently, whoever she was, was older than the one in the restaurant. This one was probably more akin to how Cristina would really look now. Her hair was greying, and age had robbed her of what was clearly once a pretty face. But Vincent knew better than to think for one minute that it actually was his sister. Once bitten and twice shy – another stupid English saying. Whoever this woman was, she was probably a local. He’d seen her a few times, either waiting at bus stops or perched on a wall. Today, she was simply standing dead still on the other side of the road. As he drove through the security gates that protected his apartments, their eyes met for a second, and he was shocked by just how much like Cristina she was.
As Vincent drove to the house where his ID was waiting, his mind filled with memories of his sisters and his mother. If that person genuinely was his sister, what would he say to her? How would she behave towards him? Would she still hate him? He concluded that she probably would. Taking Nonna’s money had driven a wedge between them that he could see no way of fixing. Not even offering to pay it back now would help. The damage was done. Cristina hated his guts, and that fact, more than any other, was how he knew categorically that the woman he’d seen was not his long-lost sister at all. Cristina wouldn’t bother walking to the end of the street for him, never mind travelling to England!
With his new ID safely stashed in his wallet, he headed down to Lynton Haven. He was going to spend a couple of days on his precious boat before selling it back to Grosvenor Yachts. It never ceased to amaze him that when a person wanted to disappear in a hurry, there was always someone happy to take full advantage of the situation. Even a company like Grosvenor had only offered a discount price to complete the purchase swiftly.
Vincent wished Grace was going to be joining him, but sadly he’d decided it was too risky. He couldn’t be entirely sure Abbie or her dad hadn’t got someone following him, and if they saw him with Grace, the shit would really hit the fan. The loss of Grace had hit him hard, and he knew it would be a good while before Vincent Royal found himself such a perfect woman. He’d brought his old pay-as-you-go phone with him; the nudes that Candy continued to send him would go a small way to make up for the loss of Grace’s well cared for body when he was trying to get to sleep on the yacht later.
As Vincent prepared to sail, he decided to risk a quick selfie on the boat. If he took it on the old pay-as-you-go phone, there would be no way Abbie could see it, and it would be good to look back on when he began his new life. Cartier sunglasses on, he smiled into the camera, trying to get as much of the boat in the shot as possible. He was proud of his achievement. Vincent Rocchino would never have dreamed of owning such a fine vessel. Come to think of it, neither would Vincent Robinson, at least not until dear old Catherine had obligingly topped herself.
It was a great shot: Vincent in the foreground, tanned and, even if he did say so himself, rather handsome, then his beautiful boat, shiny and expensive, and in the background, Lynton Haven Marina, resplendent in the sunshine. Sure, the photo was going to look a bit odd on his camera roll, nestled as it was between pictures of Candy with her legs open, but he was glad he’d taken it. It showed how far he’d come. It proved he was an achiever.
On a whim, he decided to send the photo to Candy. She was a sweet girl. She’d bothered to keep in touch, in her own way. Why not share his good fortune with her? Clicking on the image, he added the caption, ‘Look pet, I’m doing well for myself,’ and sent it to Candy’s number.
56
Lottie – 2019
‘I’ve catalogued all the Lyle items, and that customer has finally been in to collect her china vase.’ Lottie heard the kettle click. ‘Do you fancy a coffee?’
Bernard replied, ‘That would be marvellous. Well done for getting all the cataloguing done. You’ve picked it up quickly.’
‘It’s not hard.’ And it sure beats cleaning toilets!
‘Still, you’ve proven to me already that I absolutely made the right decision when I chose you for the job.’ Bernard thanked her as she handed him a steaming mug of black coffee.
‘I thought that vase was going to be hanging around for another week or more. I can’t understand why people pay that kind of money for things, and then don’t bother to come in and collect them.’
‘One thing about working at this place, Lottie – you’ll be a
mazed what rich people do. The cost of that vase was a drop in the ocean to the buyer. She’s likely to have a dozen more just the same at home.’
Lottie wondered whether she had been like that, back in the days when she had money. Did she have no appreciation for it? Yes. She would probably have bid for things over the phone and then taken her own sweet time about collecting them. She had not been a nice person. She could say with a great deal of certainty that people like the Sandlin family would not have been tripping over themselves to associate with her back then. In fact, she was embarrassed to think what a little madam she’d been.
But now? Well, these days things just kept getting better and better. The family were even talking about moving Dixie from her temporary home with Jennifer, and having her come to live with them. Not only that, but Lottie had discovered, the night before, that Hannah’s mum Jacqui, made just about the best cottage pie in the world. She’d made sure to compliment her on her cooking skills; truth be told she’d had to stop herself from licking the plate. Thinking about the family, and how much they were doing for her, gave Lottie a cosy feeling inside. Each day I spend with them makes me a better person. If only Mum could see how I’ve changed.
‘What are you thinking about, young lady?’ Bernard asked.
‘Oh, nothing much. Just counting my blessings.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ Bernard replied.
He was such a nice man. Lottie would describe him as fatherly, except … well, what did that really mean? He was definitely more like Hannah’s father than he was her own. If she was honest, her own father had probably been one of the least fatherly people she’d known. Where her boss had a warm, open face, Douglas Thorogood had always been a closed book. Nevertheless, he hadn’t deserved to end his days floating in the stream the way he had, and she instantly felt guilty for comparing him. ‘You haven’t forgotten I’m popping out at lunchtime, have you?’
‘Not at all. It’s your lunch break. You go wherever the mood takes you.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Eating your lunch in the park for a change of scenery?’
‘Umm … yes.’ Lottie remembered in the nick of time the white lie she’d told her boss. The truth was, she was heading to No. 21, but she didn’t want Bernard to get the wrong impression.
Lottie held back, watching the smoking area. If the lads didn’t come out soon, her lunch break would be over and she would’ve achieved nothing. Then, just as she had concluded that the boys must be causing trouble elsewhere, he appeared. Not only did he come out for a cigarette, but even better, he was alone.
Lottie approached.
Spotting her, he immediately began shuffling his feet and staring at the ground.
‘Hi. How are you?’ She waited for his response, intrigued as to which accent he would use.
He paused, then replied with a faltering start, ‘I’m … I am … what you do here, baby?’
‘Interesting. I wasn’t sure if you’d do the Chen voice or not.’
‘I … what you talk … umm …’
‘Quit digging. You’re just getting deeper and deeper into a hole.’
Lottie’s expression clearly told Vincenzo he was making a prize idiot of himself. He dropped the accent. ‘Okay. So, you know the truth.’
‘Do I? I think I only know a tiny sliver of the truth.’
‘I’m sorry I tricked you. Perhaps I should’ve … look, I just didn’t want your dad to realise I knew your family when I was a kid.’
‘But why?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘What’s so complicated about it? You could’ve come back and worked for him. He wouldn’t have minded that you used to be in that stupid boys’ club. He’d probably have liked to have seen you.’
‘Ha! Yeah, I’ll bet he would.’
‘Listen, Chen … I mean Vincenzo.’
‘I prefer “Vinnie”.’
Oh God, I don’t! ‘Fine, Vinnie. Whatever your bloody name is. I don’t care that we had sex. I don’t even care that you came back with the sole intention of bagging yourself the boss’s daughter. What I do care about is the deception. Why did you have to be someone else to get what you wanted?’
‘It was just a laugh.’ Vincenzo shrugged.
‘Do you see me laughing?’
‘No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I just wanted to show him—’
‘Who?’
‘Your dad. I wanted to show him I couldn’t be messed with. I could have his daughter, just like that.’ He clicked his fingers.
‘Fuck you!’
‘Like I say, it wasn’t really meant to be about you.’
‘I don’t see how you figure that one. You’ve made me look so gullible.’ Taking a step towards him, she hissed, ‘Who else knows about this?’
Before Vincenzo could answer, Jayden burst through the door of the pub into the smoking area. A cigarette already in his mouth, he flicked his lighter and lit up, saying, ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming for a fag? I’ve been waiting for you to come back from the bogs.’ As Lottie turned to face him, he added, ‘Shitting hell. You two look cosy. Mate, I thought you were lying when you said you’d shagged her.’
‘Not now, Jay.’ Vincenzo’s face flushed.
‘Don’t be embarrassed, Vinnie. We always thought she was good looking. Nothing wrong with shagging her.’
‘I am here, you know.’ Lottie gave him a cold stare. ‘I can hear you.’
Jayden blew out his smoke. ‘Never said you couldn’t. How you doing? You got your money back from that little Italian twat yet?’ He blatantly stared at her boobs. ‘By the way, you said you didn’t have a favourite, but … it seems you do!’
Clearly desperate to end the torture, Vincenzo said, ‘Jay, leave it.’
Jayden shrugged. ‘Just saying.’
Vincenzo asked Lottie, ‘Can we talk about this another time? Can I meet you somewhere?’
‘Don’t mind me. Talk about whatever you like.’ Jayden grinned, obviously enjoying the entertainment.
Lottie felt sick. ‘I just want to know why you lied.’
Without warning, Vincenzo dropped his cigarette on the floor, stamped it out and ducked back into the pub.
‘What the hell?’ Lottie was beginning to wish she hadn’t come here in her lunch break. She wasn’t in a particularly good emotional state for someone who was due back to work in about fifteen minutes.
‘I don’t think he wanna talk to you, baby.’ Jayden sneered.
Lottie glared at him. Marvellous! So not only had he told his mates that he had sex with her, but he’d told them she totally fell for the dodgy accent too.
The door to the pub opened with a bang as it hit the wall behind it and Vincenzo reappeared. He snatched up one of the grubby beermats from the table. ‘Sorry. Just went to get a pen.’ Scribbling ‘Vinnie’ on the mat, he added his mobile number and said, ‘I can explain everything. But … not here … not now.’
Lottie noticed the way he kept glancing at Jayden. Whatever his friend knew, there must be things Vincenzo wasn’t comfortable discussing in front of him. That was fine by her. She didn’t want Jayden earwigging any further, and she hated the way he kept smirking to himself and staring at her.
She took the beermat. ‘Okay, I’ll call you. But I mean it – I deserve to know exactly what went on.’
Jayden whispered, ‘Careful what you wish for … baby.’
Lottie ignored him. He was an idiot, and standing there inhaling his second-hand smoke was getting her precisely nowhere.
As Lottie walked back to work, an ambulance sped past. She watched as the traffic moved over for it. Everyone knew the routine; not one car blocked its path. All the drivers knew that there but for the grace of God went them. Who knew, one day they might be in need of an ambulance, and they would expect the same quick response. Whoever was either waiting for that ambulance to arrive, or was tucked up in the back of it, needed a clear road. Twice she had listened to the sound of an ambulanc
e approaching her home, and twice the urgency had been misplaced. On both occasions the person they were rushing to save was already dead. The usual emotions welled up inside her. No matter how many years passed, she knew the sound of an ambulance’s siren would always send a chill through her. The ambulance, added to the crappy conversation she’d just had with Vincenzo, was making this the worst lunch break on record. Granted she’d not had many.
57
Hannah – 2019
‘… and Dad said – the rule is that you need male genitalia to adjust the heating in this house. And I asked – why? Can’t you use your hand to turn the dial?’
Lottie laughed. ‘Classic. I cannot imagine ever saying that to my dad.’
‘Dad doesn’t mind. It’s his kind of humour. Did you hear his crappy joke about the fish fingers last night?’
‘No. Go on, tell me.’
‘Just his usual gag about mum’s cooking – sorry the fish fingers are a bit cold; you should’ve seen them before my wife put them on the radiator, they were bloody frozen stiff.’
‘Oh my God, the old ones are the best. And anyway, your mum’s a fabulous cook.’
Hannah turned the steering wheel as she indicated left. ‘It’s all harmless. My dad’s just a bit of a dinosaur.’
‘So was mine. But yours is a squishy one. A cuddleasaurus.’
‘Ha. Yeah, I suppose so.’
Changing the subject, Lottie said, ‘I can’t believe I’m getting Dixie back. Thank goodness your mum works part-time. She’ll be company for her whilst I’m at the auction house.’
‘Mum’s wanted a little dog for a while now. I think knowing you’d been separated from yours was just too heart-breaking for her.’
Swindled (The Sandlin PI Series Book 1) Page 20