The One You Fear (4 page)

‘You’re amazing,’ Will found himself saying out loud. He blushed.

‘Thanks,’ she said, seemingly not embarrassed by his statement. ‘I think you’re pretty amazing too, Will Holden.’

‘No one’s ever called me pretty amazing before,’ Will joked, glad to be able to defuse his discomfort with humour. They both laughed. ‘So, you said about explaining what’s next.’

‘Oh yes,’ she said, ‘we can’t be late for our flight.’

‘Flight?’

She reached down into her bag and pulled out a white envelope, which she placed on the table. ‘Will Holden, are you ready to face your next fear?’

Will fought his instinctive reaction, which was to ask a question to find out more about what this was about. ‘Yes.’

‘Excellent,’ she said, ‘otherwise the tickets would have been wasted.’

‘Please don’t say it’s a parachute jump.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘And what would you say if I said it was?’

‘Well, I guess I’ve already said yes.’

‘Damn.’ She thumped the table playfully. ‘I should have aimed higher.’

Will creased his forehead in confusion.

‘Open the envelope,’ she said. ‘It’s not a parachute jump – that will have to wait. But full marks for being up for it.’

Will slid his fingers under the seal. Inside were two tickets for the London Eye. He’d mentioned his fear of heights during their first discussion at the bar, and had actually quoted London’s big wheel as one of the things he didn’t feel able to do. A couple of years ago Emma, Dan and Lizzy had gone on it, and he’d watched from below, feeling left out. So although it wasn’t a parachute jump, it was another leap for him. He looked up at Amy, whose blue eyes were sparkling at him. ‘Let’s do it.’

***

Lizzy got through the matinee without any slip-ups. It wasn’t her best performance, but under the circumstances, she thought she had done pretty well. Her only tactic was to push the words of Adrian Spencer as far towards the back of her mind as possible. And in truth, during the show she had only thought about it briefly. But now, back in the dressing room, it was up front and centre. For the past month she had been trying to ignore the situation, but now that he knew, she had to take another path.

It was time to talk to Will.

4

‘This is amazing,’ Emma said, as she walked hand in hand with Dan down to the seafront. The five-minute train ride from their base to the main resort of St. Ives had been breathtaking. The line arced around the golden coast, hugging the cliffs and offering a spectacular view across the bay and out to sea.

‘Yes, amazing.’ Dan was watching a flock of seagulls that circled overhead before allowing the wind to carry them away into the near distance. The sun was still shining in a clear blue sky, and it felt as if he and Emma had just stepped into a vivid oil painting.

They strolled through a quaint alleyway of micro-galleries, restaurants and boutique shops. Dan held up the town-centre map that they’d picked up from their apartment. ‘The beachfront is the next right.’

‘Wouldn’t it be amazing,’ Emma said, as she peered into the window of a shop that sold beautiful knitwear, ‘to run something like this. Just move out of London, come down here, and live the quiet life – early morning seafront walks, fresh air, no stress.’

Dan moved up to her shoulder. ‘Is that what you’d really like to do?’

She shrugged. ‘Sure, why not?’

‘Sounds idyllic, but I thought London was the place to be for those in the,’ – he put on a mock posh accent, as opposed to his usual South Yorkshire twang – ‘acting profession.’

Emma elbowed him playfully in the ribs. ‘Plenty of actors live in the countryside, you know. I’ve heard Gloucestershire, the Cotswolds, is full of them – Kate Winslet, for example.’

‘Ah, but Gloucestershire is about an hour and a half train ride from London, or a short drive in a fast car, while St. Ives, Cornwall, well, it’s a lot further away.’

‘True,’ Emma acknowledged. ‘But if I wasn’t acting, it wouldn’t matter.’

‘Really?’ Dan said. ‘You’re not thinking of walking away from it all, are you?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Because of what happened?’

‘I’ve considered it.’ Emma expected Dan to come back with a reason why she shouldn’t even contemplate the thought, but he didn’t.

‘Are you going to say anything to Diana?’

‘No,’ Emma replied. ‘I’m just going there to listen to what she has to say.’

She was meeting Diana , her prospective new agent on Wednesday, the day after they were due to return from holiday. Diana had contacted her a week ago, wanting to meet about a potential ‘amazing opportunity’, as she had put it. Emma’s existing agent had just announced her retirement, so it had seemed like good timing. She wasn’t totally convinced that Diana Saunders would be right for her – she had a fearsome reputation in the business and from all reports was the kind of person you either loved or hated. But Diana had been charming on the phone, and extremely persuasive – which surely had to be an agent’s most important trait. She could be just the person Emma needed batting for her, especially given her rejecting the part in the movie. And what harm could one meeting do, even if it didn’t work out?

‘You know, Em, I’ll support you in whatever you decide to do, but just make sure you do it for the right reasons. If you really want to move down here and live the rural seaside life, I’ll be with you all the way. I mean, I could go freelance.’ Dan was a graphic designer at a small but successful company based in London. ‘With graphic design, it doesn’t matter where you live if you’re freelance – it’s just about building up a reputation, and you can work with people anywhere in the world. But don’t let what happened scare you into giving up your dreams.’

Emma hugged him. ‘Thanks. I won’t.’

Their first morning in St. Ives was fantastic. They strolled along the seafront, taking in the sights of the fishing boats in the harbour and the holidaymakers spread out over the beach, enjoying the sunshine. It might have been the dying days of peak holiday season, but St. Ives was still a resort that was buzzing with people. Children splashed in the clear blue waters, and around the headland an army of surfers rode the waves, flipping off and onto their boards in the quest for the perfect ride. At lunchtime, after exploring the shops of the high street, they grabbed some fish and chips and sat on the sea wall, just in front of the Tate gallery.

‘I couldn’t be happier,’ Emma said, popping a chip into her mouth and resting her shoulder against Dan’s.

Dan brought his arm around her back. He looked off into the distance, far out to sea, as if searching for the right words. Emma watched his face. He looked troubled. ‘Me too,’ he said finally.

‘Are you okay?’

He nodded unconvincingly. ‘You know, there was a time when I thought I’d never see you again.’ He traced his tongue along his top lip, which Emma knew meant he was struggling to contain his emotions.

She squeezed his hand. ‘It’s okay; we
can
talk about this now. I know what we said back in the apartment, about forgetting it all while we’re away, but maybe this is the best place to deal with it.’

There was a tear glinting in the corner of Dan’s eye. ‘I was so scared, Em.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve never been as scared in my life.’

‘Scared of Peter Myers?’

‘No, scared of losing you.’

‘I was afraid of losing you, too,’ she said. ‘There were points when I thought you might already be…’

‘Dead?’

Emma couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

‘Is that why…’ Dan stopped himself, looking out again towards open water.

‘What?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said, blowing out his cheeks.

‘No, Dan, don’t keep things bottled up. You’ve got to let these things out.’

He gathered himself. ‘Is that why you got close to Stuart Harris again?’

Emma wasn’t expecting that. She didn’t know what to say.

Dan looked at her. ‘I saw the photographs on the
Daily Post
website. You were on the boat with him, sailing down the Thames, drinking champagne.’

Immediately she felt on the defensive. The boat trip, to publicise the upcoming movie that she was then due to play a major role in, had been covered extensively by the newspaper. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but here it was, causing trouble. ‘I didn’t know he’d be there. It wasn’t planned, I promise.’

‘I know,’ he said sadly. ‘I know it wasn’t, I didn’t mean it like that.’

Emma searched for the words. She didn’t feel angry at what Dan had suggested; she felt guilty. She had, for however short a period, got too close to Stuart Harris. Yes, he had used her, but she had been somewhat willing. Is this why Dan had been acting so strange since his release – had it not been about his incarceration at all? Had it been about them? If so, then for the good of their relationship it did need dealing with now.

‘I love
you
, Dan, not Stuart. Please believe me. I did love him, a long time ago, but honestly, he wasn’t half the man you are. And the way I feel about you, well, it’s totally different to anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s on another level – always has been, always will be.’

Dan nodded. ‘I’m really sorry, Em. I shouldn’t have questioned you like that. I do trust you, totally. It’s just that when I saw those photos you looked… so happy.’

Emma wanted to cry. She could empathise totally with how he must have felt seeing those images, taken at the time when he’d been imprisoned, with the world not knowing whether he was dead or alive. ‘Maybe for that split second,’ she admitted. ‘But you know what photos are like – sometimes they don’t tell the real story. I wasn’t really happy. How could I be? My fiancé was missing. In retrospect, I wish I hadn’t gone to that event, but I guess it was just how I got through it all. Peter Myers made me think that you’d left me.’

‘I’m being an idiot,’ he said. ‘We were having a lovely time, trying to get over things, and I’m going on like this, jealous about someone who isn’t even alive anymore.’

‘You’re not an idiot. You’re just being honest about how you feel. There’s nothing wrong with that. It would be wrong to say nothing, and go on worrying. That’s not a good way to start a marriage.’

‘You still want to get married?’

‘Of course I do!’

‘Even though I doubted you?’

‘Come on,’ Emma said, patting Dan on the thigh and getting to her feet. ‘I’ll race you to the sea. Last one there has to sit with my mad Aunty Ruth at the reception.’

They sprinted towards the water’s edge, unaware that they were being watched.

***

Will took a beer out of the fridge, flicked on the television and flopped down onto the sofa. He was on a high. What an amazing day. And Amy was such an amazing girl. In many ways, the trip on the London Eye had been just as terrifying as the encounter with the spider. But likewise, to take on and conquer his fear of heights was equally fantastic. Initially, as the pod had begun to rise, he’d felt paralysed with fear of what was to come, and just wanted to get off. But by the time they reached the top of the wheel he had really started to enjoy himself, although his palms remained slick with sweat. The view that the wheel afforded was spectacular – London spread out before him like a toy town – with the Palace of Westminster down below, glinting in the sun. Again, Amy had been the spur, challenging him to do things he had shied away from all his life. He’d never met anyone like her before. Least of all, someone like her who seemed to like him – he’d never had the best luck in the romance department.

He hoped she would stick around.

He took a swig from the bottle and channel-hopped. He could see himself marrying her. Although it was of course very early days, and there was no way on earth that he would admit such a thing to Amy. Surely something like that would send her running for the hills. He didn’t even know if she agreed with marriage, or wanted children, or –

Stop it.

But why not wallow in the joy of the moment? After all, it might be the real deal. And if it wasn’t, then it was still better to enjoy it while it lasted. Amy’s life philosophy was definitely rubbing off on him. To think he used to be such a pessimistic idiot.

The buzzer sounded at ten past seven, just as he was preparing a microwave pasta meal. It was Lizzy.

‘Hi, Lizzy,’ he said, as she entered the flat. ‘You okay?’

‘I need to ask you something.’ She took a seat and avoided the pleasantries. ‘It’s going to sound weird, I know it is, but I just need to ask you.’

Will sat down opposite her. It already sounded weird. And she looked spooked. It brought back bad memories of those awful couple of weeks, just one short month ago. ‘What’s the matter?’

Lizzy gathered her thoughts. ‘That reporter, Adrian Spencer, has he spoken to you today?’