The One You Trust (20 page)

‘Which is?’

‘Bribery. They pay to shut them up. Usually it doesn’t take much money to appease them.’

‘Has that happened a lot?’ Lizzy was shocked.

‘Yes. It’s just part of their normal working practice. That way, the programmes get made and, to some extent, everyone is happy.’

‘But it’s totally unethical!’

‘Yes, but that’s just how it works.’

‘And no one has taken things further?’

‘Apart from you, no.’

‘And we complained about you, rather than the company.’

His was a tight smile. ‘Exactly. So they just got rid of me, and hey presto, the problem was solved.’

‘When, in fact, you were just carrying out their orders,’ Lizzy said slowly. ‘
They
were the ones who were coordinating things.’

‘I think you’re finally starting to understand. Don’t underestimate them,’ he warned.

‘You make it sound like we should be afraid of them.’

‘Not afraid, but wary. Lizzy, I know you’re a savvy person, and from my time trying to get information out of you, it’s clear to me that you care about your friends deeply, and that you want to protect their well-being. You should just be wary about anybody who threatens that, including Firework Films.’

‘But what are we supposed to do? Complain to the regulator?’

‘I wouldn’t waste my time – it won’t get you anywhere. Just be on your guard.’

Lizzy looked at him. ‘But that’s not really helpful. Don’t you think we are already?’

‘I’m sure you are. Just make sure that you keep your eye on all the threats.’

Lizzy let out an exasperated sigh. ‘There you go again, being cryptic. If you really want to help us, then just talk straight, please!’

‘Okay, okay,’ Adrian said. ‘I will.’ He gathered his thoughts. ‘Now that I’m not working for them, don’t you think that they might have other people, taking up from where I left off?’

‘Following us, you mean?’

‘Exactly. And now with what’s happened with Peter Myers, expect their interest to intensify.’

Without really thinking, Lizzy looked around the large square. There were only a handful of people in the vicinity, and they were on the move. No one appeared to be loitering.

‘They’re smarter than that,’ Adrian said. ‘They won’t be that obvious. Not after what happened with me. They know that you’ll be wise to people following you, so they’ll more than likely adopt different tactics.’

‘Like what?’

‘Longer-range surveillance maybe, using telescopic lenses. Phone tapping, possibly.’

Lizzy reacted with incredulity. ‘Phone tapping? You can’t be serious?’

‘They’ve done it before. It doesn’t have to be fitting something to a phone – I’m sure you’ve read the stories about the press listening to mobile-phone voice messages of celebrities and crime victims?’

Lizzy nodded.

‘So, they’ve done it before. How secure is your mobile messaging service, Lizzy? Have you set your own password?’

‘Er, no, I haven’t.’

‘So it’ll still be set as the factory default number, which is probably four zeros – it almost invariably is. That means, as long as someone knows your mobile phone number, which Firework Films do, they can dial in and listen to your messages.’

‘Did you do that?’

‘No, not with you. But I know it’s been done in the past.’

‘By Firework Films?’

He nodded. ‘By Firework Films, indeed.’

‘I need to change my password,’ she said.

‘Yes, you do. And so do Emma and the others. The sooner the better.’

This was great advice. But there was one thing still bugging Lizzy. ‘Why are you helping us?’

‘Because I want to make things as difficult as possible for them. They thought I’d go quietly, but I’m really not that kind of person.’

‘So you’re not doing this out of the goodness of your heart.’

He smiled. ‘No, I suppose I’m not. But does it matter?’

‘No,’ Lizzy replied, ‘I guess it doesn’t.’

‘There’s one other piece of information that I want to give you.’

‘Go on . . . ?’

‘You’ve not asked me yet who Firework Films are. Aren’t you interested?’

Stupidly, Lizzy hadn’t really thought about the people behind the company. Adrian Spencer had always personified Firework and, beyond that, she hadn’t considered who else was involved. ‘Yes, I do want to know.’

‘A search on the Companies House website will reveal who the directors are,’ he said. ‘I think you’ll be surprised.’

‘You’re not going to tell me?’

‘Just do the search,’ he said, walking away as rain began to fall.

Lizzy sheltered around the corner from Trafalgar Square, in the entrance to the National Portrait Gallery, as the rain intensified. Buses and taxis splashed past, their windscreen wipers desperately trying to push the water away. A fresh and strengthening wind whipped into the sheltered area where Lizzy stood as she pulled out her phone and searched online for the Companies House website.

It came up as the first result, and offered a full listing of all limited companies in the UK. For more detailed trading data, she would have to pay a small fee, but there was free access to basic information – including the address of the company and a list of directors. She found the ‘Search for company’ section and typed in ‘Firework Films’.

The result came straight back. Lizzy clicked on the company name and its information page loaded. It was registered to an address in London. And there, on the right-hand side of the page, were the names of the three company directors. She didn’t know two of the names. But the name of the third director certainly stood out.

Mr Guy Roberts.

‘Son of a . . .’

Guy Roberts is one of the men behind Firework Films?
The man who had contributed to the stress and anxiety they had all suffered over the summer, thanks to his commission of David Sherborn to pursue and photograph Emma – for nothing more than a calculated, cold-blooded PR stunt for his film – was now intending to profit from a television programme about it all? And, what was more, for that purpose he had employed Adrian Spencer to hound them
as well
?

Lizzy was seething. Now she could place the comments from Adrian Spencer in a better context. Guy Roberts was a man who apparently had no morals, and was prepared to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. Maybe it was partly about revenge – Emma had, after all, rejected his offer of a movie role, so perhaps he wanted to punish her. Or maybe it was just about money – finding another way to exploit her story for commercial gain? Whatever the reasoning, it was reprehensible.

But now the truth was out, and he could be exposed.

She dialled Emma’s home number. It rang and rang. With each ring, her rage was replaced by worry.
Why isn’t she picking up?
She dialled her mobile. ‘C’mon, Em, where are you?’ No answer there either.
Maybe she went for that run after all. But then wouldn’t she have taken her mobile with her?

She called Dan, trying to steady her nerves as the call went through. She didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily.

‘Dan, have you spoken to Emma in the last hour or so?’

‘No. I was about to call her. I’ve been in meetings all day. You’re not with her?’

‘I got called to work,’ she explained. ‘Emma stayed at the flat. I’ve just tried to call her, but there’s no answer on either your home phone or her mobile.’

‘My God.’

‘It might be nothing,’ Lizzy said, trying to reassure herself as much as Dan. ‘She mentioned wanting to go for a run, so maybe she’s done that and forgotten her phone, or just hasn’t heard it.’

‘Maybe.’ But he sounded worried.

‘I’m going back there now,’ Lizzy said, moving out onto the pavement and into the onslaught of rain. ‘I’ll call you as soon as I get there. It’s probably nothing, Dan.’

‘I hope to God you’re right, Lizzy. I’ll leave now, and keep trying her phone.’

Chapter 29

Miranda might have wanted an explanation, but she didn’t raise the issue during the panicked drive to the hospital – she was in too much pain to care about anything other than the there and then.

‘It’ll be okay,’ Edward repeated, for what must have been the fiftieth time, as he accelerated along the road. He glanced in the rear-view mirror. ‘We’re nearly there, we’re almost there.’

Miranda was in the back alongside Will. She was focusing on her breathing, gripping Will’s hand. Every so often she would grimace in pain, squeezing it yet tighter.

‘It’s okay, we’ll be there before you know it,’ Will said. Then, ‘Look, we’re here.’

They pulled to a stop right outside the main entrance, and hurried up to the maternity ward reception.

‘I think my wife’s in the latter stages of labour,’ Edward said to the nurse on duty. ‘It came on suddenly. She’s in a lot of pain. She’s a doctor at this hospital.’

‘I know,’ the nurse said, catching sight of Miranda, who was hunched over, holding on to Will for support. She was concentrating so much on her own body that she didn’t seem to even see her colleague. ‘We’ve worked together many a time. Don’t worry, Miranda, we’ll get you checked out right away.’

The nurse guided Miranda over to a nearby bay and helped her onto the bed. Within seconds she was wired up to monitoring equipment, and a doctor had arrived.

Will and Edward looked on from the side of the bed as the doctor and nurse scrutinised the various readings. They exchanged a glance and the doctor nodded. He then turned to Miranda. ‘Your baby is in some distress. We need to get it out as soon as possible.’

‘What, now?’ Edward said, blankly.

‘It’s okay,’ Miranda said, speaking through the pain.

Edward looked at the doctor for confirmation.

‘We’ll perform a C-section,’ the doctor said. ‘Of course, you’re welcome to be present.’

Edward looked at Miranda and nodded. ‘Yes, of course I want to be there.’

Within minutes, Miranda was whisked off to the theatre, with Edward following behind.

Will waited in the corridor, walking up and down, on tenterhooks for news. After a while of pacing, sitting, then pacing some more, he tried to call Emma. In all the drama of the past hour or so, he hadn’t thought to let her know what was happening. But there was no answer on her mobile or her landline. He then called Lizzy, but her phone cut straight through to her answer service. An uncomfortable thought rippled through him.
Has something happened to Emma?
But the thought was banished by the reappearance of Edward.

As his father approached, still wearing a theatre gown, his face didn’t give anything away, but he looked drained.

Will rose from the chair. ‘How is she?’

Edward broke out into a broad smile. ‘They’re both fine.’

The relief was total. ‘Really? And it’s a—?’

‘Boy,’ his father said. ‘A little boy. We’re calling him Jack.’

Will beamed. ‘After Granddad.’

Edward nodded and they embraced. It felt strange, but wonderful. Will had never hugged his father before, not even in those dark days after his mother’s death. The closest he had come was an uncomfortable back-pat at the funeral.

‘I’m really sorry, Will,’ Edward said, softly, as they held the embrace. ‘I’ve let you down too many times. Things are going to change.’

Will pulled back. ‘I’m sorry too, Dad.’

Edward sat down, and gestured for Will to do the same. ‘I know I’ve said the same thing before, but this time it
is
going to be different. You and Emma, you mean the world to me, and I just want to do the right thing.’

‘I know you do.’

‘Sometimes I behave stupidly, I know that. Like yesterday, challenging Sally . . . but I did it with the best of intentions. I did it to try and help you.’

‘I know you did, Dad . . .’ Will took a breath, steeling himself, ‘but you’ve got to understand that sometimes we just need you to be there for us – not running around taking action, doing things, trying to sort everything out single-handed, but support us just by being there. You nearly ended up in jail last time you tried to sort things out for me.’

‘I know, I know.’ Edward looked deep into Will’s eyes. ‘I just want to make things better.’

‘You need to let go of your guilt, Dad, about not helping us when Mum was dying. You need to stop blaming yourself. I know I’ve been angry about it for a long time, but it’s no good living in the past.’ Will shrugged. ‘We’ve all got to move on.’

Edward looked puzzled for a moment – the comment had pierced his armour. He cracked, and began to sob into his hands.

Will had never seen his father cry. It was disturbing yet strangely reassuring – he’d always suspected that his hard exterior was just a carefully constructed mask, one that ultimately stopped him from dealing with his issues. He placed an arm around his father’s shaking shoulders. ‘I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t want to upset you. This should be one of the happiest moments of your life. You have another son. You have a wonderful partner.’