‘I have something urgent I need to attend at the hospital,’ Justin said, easing away from her. ‘I’ll come straight back, if that’s okay with you?’
Alicia hesitated, and then nodded. She didn’t particularly want to go back inside, but she had her things to collect. ‘I hope you’re going to get yourself checked over while you’re there?’ She gave him an admonishing look.
Justin managed a smile. ‘I will. I promise.’
Alicia nodded, relieved, and then glanced back to the house. She would have to tell him she wanted nothing to do with her sister, possibly ever again, but there was another conundrum: how to explain that without seeming to be accusing him of anything or embarrassing him.
‘Alicia, about Jessica,’ he said apprehensively, raising the subject for her. ‘I realise this is a big ask, but do you think we could maybe not share information with her?’ He glanced awkwardly away. ‘I think we need to trust each other now. No one else.’
Alicia scanned his eyes, as he turned back to her. His expression was definitely awkward, but it also held a warning, communicating all Alicia needed to know. He was aware, as she now was, of the hurt Jessica had caused, and still could.
Holding his gaze, she nodded resolutely. They had an understanding. There were no words needed.
‘I’ll ring you,’ Justin said. ‘As soon as I’ve finished at the hospital. It shouldn’t be too long. Will you be okay until then?’
Again, Alicia nodded. ‘I need to get my things together,’ she said. It would never be whole without her children, but it was possible her heart might have started functioning again.
‘One more thing, Alicia.’ Justin stopped her as she reached for her door. ‘Radley – he’s dangerous. He’s possibly a danger to Sophie, should she contact him again. I understand why you felt you couldn’t say anything before, but…’ He hesitated, studying her carefully. ‘I think Taylor needs to know everything now, for her sake.’
Seeing the genuine fear in his eyes, Alicia felt a shudder run through her. He was right. Paul wouldn’t hurt Sophie, surely? But even the slightest threat, in whatever form… Swallowing, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘I’ll ring the station,’ she said. ‘I’ll do it from my car, out of earshot of Jessica.’
Justin sighed, clearly relieved, and then leaned towards her. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m here for you, Ali,’ he said, brushing her lips with his own. ‘Just so you know.’
Alicia immediately did what she’d been aching to do and threw her arms around him. ‘It’s worth a lot,’ she assured him tearfully. ‘And just so you know, there was never a second I didn’t love you. I always will.’
Justin squeezed her back. ‘I’ll call you,’ he promised, pulling away to kiss her forehead softly. ‘As soon as I can.’
Watching him go, Alicia realised that Jessica really was a bad judge of men. Justin would never have got involved with her. Perhaps another woman, in time, possibly, if they’d had no future together, but he wouldn’t have jumped at the first available female, particularly if that female was Alicia’s sister. He just wasn’t made that way.
Turning to the house, she was going over in her mind what she would say to DI Taylor – it was going to be one of the most difficult calls she’d made in her life – when her phone received a text. It was from Paul Radley, as if he’d known he was under discussion. Reluctantly, she checked it, and then froze, her stomach lurching violently as she stared down at the photograph: Sophie, lying asleep on her stomach, one hand resting on her pillow, her passport lying beside her. A single rose on the duvet. A significant gesture, that’s what he’d said when he’d given one to her. He’d quoted something. Something to do with a rose bush growing in the pool of blood spilled from Aphrodite’s slain lover, Adonis. He’d said it symbolised immortal love, love that would never fade, even through time or death… meaning they would be together forever.
She read the text.
Meet me. 8.00 p.m. Central Plaza, Apartment 153b. We need to talk about the future. Come alone.
Sixty-Five
SOPHIE
Bored with the TV, Sophie wandered towards the kitchen for a drink. She quite fancied a huge glass of fizzy Coke, but guessed she’d have to settle for one of the fruit juices Paul made in his blender. The lime and cucumber was okay, but the apple, mint and spinach was foul.
‘Won’t be long,’ Paul said, sailing past.
Dressed in his gym clothes, Sophie noticed. He’d offered to get her a membership, but Sophie wasn’t all that into gyms. She’d said she’d try it. Despite all this healthy eating, though, she’d been so exhausted lately, she wasn’t sure she could be bothered to drag herself as far as the lift.
‘Did my phone arrive yet?’ she asked him, coming back with her juice and trying hard not to wince as she swallowed a mouthful.
‘Afraid not.’ Paul smiled regretfully. ‘We’ll see about chasing it later.’
He still didn’t trust her to use his laptop or his phone in his absence. He turned down her requests nicely, pointing out the importance of client confidentiality and all that crap, but it rankled that he didn’t trust her enough not to poke around in his files. Like he’d got more to hide than boring old financial reports.
‘Why don’t you have a browse through the new Florida brochures I bought,’ he suggested. ‘We’ll be going in a few days.’
That was a little vague, Sophie thought. He’d said he hadn’t confirmed the flights when she’d asked him, and, while she realised it would be him forking out for them, she still had to have some clothes if she was going on holiday. ‘I might,’ she said, yawning.
‘Manners, Sophie,’ Paul reminded her, with a tolerant smile.
‘Sorry,’ Sophie said, pressing a hand to her mouth as she yawned again, and then watching with interest as Paul checked his jacket pocket for his phone, bringing out his study keys as he did and then plopping them back in his jacket.
‘Half an hour,’ he said, heading for the front door. ‘Don’t forget to take your vitamins.’
‘I already did,’ Sophie assured him, yawning widely again.
Waiting until he’d gone, Sophie stopped yawning, nipped to the loo, flushed the vitamin tablets away – she was sure the bloody things were making her sleepy – and then flew over to his jacket to retrieve the keys. It was now or never. He’d kept that door locked religiously since the one time she’d been in there, even coming back an hour after he’d gone out once. He’d made some other excuse, but he’d come back to make sure he’d locked the study, Sophie was sure of it. Plus, she hadn’t been able to get the photo on his desk out of her mind, and the fact that Justin had been cropped out of it. Then there was the envelope. Sophie had glimpsed more photos in there.
She’d bet those were of his family. She was hoping they were. He’d been okay to her – generous – but despite being under the same roof as him, she still didn’t know that much about him. He didn’t talk about his family, didn’t have a single photo of them anywhere around the apartment, and to Sophie, who’d lived in a home where family photos were dotted about everywhere, that just seemed odd.
Two minutes later, she was in the study, fumbling to find the right key for the drawer in which she’d seen the envelope. Bingo! Finally, she unlocked it, hurriedly extracting the envelope and peering inside. She squinted and tipped the contents out. These weren’t photos of his family. Furrowing her brow, Sophie splayed them out on top of the desk. They were their family photos. Photographs taken mostly by Justin, of her and her mum. She recognised some of the backgrounds. Their bloody back garden, for one. Their lounge at Christmas. The holiday chalet they’d had in France. The boat they’d hired to tour Ireland. There were some later ones, as well, that she’d taken herself, of Justin and her mum, and Justin had been crudely cropped out of every one of them. Chopped out, with scissors. He hadn’t even cut the photos in straight lines.