Behind Closed Doors (9 page)

‘Leave me alone!’ She pulled away and started to run, panicking now, pushing people aside and sobbing.

And then – it was so dramatic – he was there, in front of her. ‘Hey, Scarlett!’

She collapsed against him, taking deep, gulping, sobbing breaths, unable to speak. His arms went around her back and held her tightly. ‘It’s okay,’ he was saying, and laughing. ‘What’s the matter?’

But then he pulled her away from the crowds of people, the shouting ones, the drunk ones who were staggering and lurching, into a side street. And he sat her down on a low wall. It was dark here; she could see her feet and didn’t want to raise her head. She was still afraid, even with Nico here next to her, his arm heavy across her shoulders. Tucking her head in against his chest, she felt herself trembling. This had been such a mistake, such a stupid idea… what had she been thinking?

‘Did somebody hurt you? What happened?’

‘I need to go back to the apartment,’ she said at last, still the odd shuddering sigh taking her over.

‘Why go back? You just got here. It’s okay. I’m here.’

She raised her head to look at him, wanting to say the words
I’m fifteen, I’m only fifteen
but not quite managing them. And instead of saying anything he bent his head and kissed her. As if he knew.

It felt so different, awkward, even though he was gentle. When his tongue started moving against hers she started to panic again and pulled away.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’

His fingers stroked her upper arm. ‘Beautiful Scarlett,’ he said, his voice quiet, the accent so sexy. And then, to her surprise, ‘Come. I take you back. Where do you stay? What hotel?’

‘It’s the Aktira Studios. You know it?’

‘I know.’

He stood up and held out his hand. She took it and got to her feet. He kept hold of her hand, tightly. ‘I don’t want you to be scared.’

‘I’m not scared of you,’ she said, as they started to walk back the way they had come. He was still holding her hand.

It was a lie. She was afraid of him, or, more specifically, she was afraid of how she felt when he was with her. She was afraid of the feelings deep inside, bubbling to the surface, where everyone could see.

And they walked down another side street, and another, and then they came out the other side of the market square and she realised she was nearly back up at the resort. There was the shop where she’d bought the moisturising lotion for her mum – how had she not recognised it, earlier? And the throngs of drunk people were thinning out, and after another couple of hundred metres it was just the two of them, strolling hand in hand. She could hear the sound of the sea, the waves tumbling and sucking, now that the pounding of the music had died away.

He hadn’t spoken since they had left the side street, but there was no tension in his hand. He held her hand gently, casually, as though she might let it slip from his at any moment.

She could see the apartment block on the right hand side, the lights in the pool making a beautiful pale blue glow. Her steps were slowing.

‘This is where I’m staying,’ she said, quietly. ‘Thank you for walking me home.’

He turned towards her. ‘You are welcome. You don’t be scared any more.’

He took her other hand in his, held both of them as though they were going to start dancing. The thought of this made her smile. The fear had subsided now, and she was feeling stupid. Why had she freaked out like that? Why hadn’t she stayed with him, in the town? They could have gone to a bar or something; they could be in a club…

She moved closer to him, wondering how to do this. It felt weird, but right. He smiled, a lazy, confident smile. And then put his hand on her cheek, stroked it tenderly, and pulled her close for another kiss. He was good at letting her set the pace. This time he didn’t open his mouth, so she did. Invited him in. It was gentle, tender.

‘Goodnight,’ he said, stepping back, his eyes on her, his hands pulling away.

She watched him go. He was dragging his heels, reluctant. She loved that, loved that he couldn’t bear to stop looking. When he turned away, at last, she called after him, ‘Wait!’ Ran up to him and threw herself against him, into his open arms, and he swung her round and buried his face in her neck. They were both laughing. ‘I don’t want to go inside yet,’ she said.

‘It’s late,’ he said.

‘Come to the beach with me,’ she said, astounded at her own audacity.

He didn’t answer straight away. Then he was pulling her arms gently away from his neck. ‘It’s late,’ he said. ‘I will see you again, yes?’

She pouted. ‘Nico.’

And a big smile as he left her, walking away. A backward wave, and he blew her a kiss.

Minutes later, sliding the patio door open, Scarlett crept into the room as quietly as she could, sandals clutched in one hand.

She froze when she realised the light was on next to Juliette’s bed. Juliette, sitting up in bed, was reading her book again. Bizarrely, Scarlett felt the need to look at her watch – it was almost three in the morning.

There was an odd sort of silence. Juliette didn’t look up from her book or even acknowledge Scarlett’s return, and for a crazy moment Scarlett wondered if her sister had even noticed that the bed next to hers was empty. Who knew? It was entirely possible. Her sister was peculiar and, although it was the elephant in the room at every family occasion, she was getting more and more strange as the years passed.

Scarlett went into the bathroom and got back into her nightshirt, stuffing her clothes back into the bag hanging on the back of the door. When she came out, the light was still on. Juliette hadn’t moved. She got into bed and turned her back on her sister, her heart pounding. Part of her just wanted to go with it, assume that Juliette’s silence now indicated her intention to remain silent on this matter in future also.

After a few moments she heard the sound of a page turning. If it was possible for the sound of a page turning to be loaded with unspoken meaning, it was exactly that.

Eventually Scarlett could stand it no longer. She gave a huge sigh and flopped over in bed to face her sister.

‘Jul?’

No reaction, no acknowledgement. Another page was turned, slowly.

‘Juliette!’ The hushed whisper, getting louder.

‘What?’ came the reply, finally, but without looking up from her book.

‘You won’t say anything, will you? To Dad, I mean?’

Silence again.

After a few moments, Scarlett turned her face back to the wall and closed her eyes. There was no point pursuing things. When Juliette didn’t want to talk, she didn’t. If she was reading, she wouldn’t talk. Scarlett was lucky to have had that single word out of her. She would try again in the morning.

And although she was tired, her eyes heavy, her heart was buzzing with the kiss. With the taste of him, the feel of his warm, strong arms around her. And tomorrow she would see him again.

Lou had been expecting the Major Incident room to be in darkness, but, when she keyed in the security code and opened the door, all the lights were on.

She headed past empty desks towards the goldfish bowl of an office at the end, and jumped half a mile when she heard a voice behind her. ‘Hey.’

‘Jesus Christ! You made me jump…’

Jason put his arms around her waist, lowering his face into her neck and nuzzling her. She put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. ‘It’s good to see you. I missed you.’

And then she pulled back. She couldn’t let that go on, much as she wanted to.

‘What are you doing here, anyway?’

‘Sam let me in. She only went about ten minutes ago.’

Although Jason was vetted to the appropriate level to work on any of Lou’s jobs, it was on a strictly need-to-know basis. He wasn’t on any of her jobs currently – and so he was not supposed to be in here.

‘I did that profile for you. I figured you wouldn’t want me to email it.’

There was something in his tone. She pulled away from him, out of the circle of his arms. ‘What did you find?’

‘You should read it. It’s on your desk. I’ll go get you a coffee. Unless you want to go home now?’

He went to get her a coffee from the vending machine outside the canteen. She couldn’t take the profile out of the office, and, now that he’d indicated there was something in it that couldn’t be emailed, she needed to know what it was.

Ten minutes later Lou was sitting at her desk, Jason across from her in the only other chair, a low visitor’s chair that had been purloined from reception when they’d redecorated it last year. The Facilities Team had a container hidden behind the training school where old furniture went to die, and Lou had gone there herself with Ali Whitmore to try to salvage some desks rather than spend her very snug budget on new ones. The chair had a cushioned seat covered with a hairy sort of grey fabric that might or might not have been its original colour, the corner frayed away to reveal a stained sponge interior.

He was sitting with one leg across the other knee, his hand on his ankle, watching her.

‘There’s not much,’ she said in the end.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Just those few from August, and then, before that, nothing much since last year. There are a couple on Carl McVey that mention the McDonnells, but you’ve already seen those.’

‘Anything else on Maitland specifically?’

‘Nothing other than what’s there.’

‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I do appreciate it. I know you’ve got other stuff to do.’

‘You can’t tell me what it’s about, right?’

‘No.’

He shrugged, used to this. ‘You don’t have an analyst.’

‘I can ask Annabel when she gets back from annual leave. Don’t worry about it.’

‘You saw the stuff about McVey?’

‘Yep. Is there any more on him?’

‘Nothing recent. One from March with a list of his businesses, and one from July where he was seen with the McDonnells and one of the Petries. The others I think you’ve seen already.’

Typical
, Lou thought. But it was a useful starting point, and, although it wasn’t a link between McVey and Ian Palmer, it was a link between McVey and the McDonnells, which meant that being involved with Scarlett Rainsford, found working in Lewis McDonnell’s brothel, wasn’t going to be a complete waste of time in terms of Op Trapeze. Small relief.

‘You look shattered,’ Jason said.

The clock on the end of the far wall told her it was past seven. ‘I’ve got to go out in an hour. Got to meet someone from SB – and I’ve piles to do apart from that.’

‘You always have piles to do. You never get to the bottom of the pile.’ It sounded like a rebuke, but he was smiling.

‘If I don’t do it now, it will be a bigger pile in the morning.’

He sighed. ‘Okay, here’s the deal. I’m going to go away now and get you something to eat. I’ll be back in a while.’

He stood and came round to her side of the desk, twisted her chair around and kissed her. It was an I’m-in-charge-here kind of kiss, which didn’t allow for argument, and, despite everything she had to work through, for a moment she was tempted. If she touched him, that would be it. She could reach out right now and put her arms around him and then she could pull him closer and —