Simon saw her first. She’d been surveying the bar from the top of the steps for thirty seconds or more before she noticed him waving in exaggerated slow motion. She laughed and walked over to him, kissed him on the cheek.
As they sat down, he said, ‘Well I can see why you chose this over coming and staying with us again.’
She looked around and said, ‘It’s basic, I know, but it’ll do until I find somewhere permanent.’ The waiter came over. ‘I’ll have a Pussyfoot, please. Simon?’
‘Oh, just a Coke or a mineral water or something.’
‘Make that two Pussyfoots.’ The waiter smiled and left. ‘Fuddy-duddy!’
‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you back at college. You know if there’s anything I can do . . .’
She appreciated the offer but knew that Simon couldn’t help her with the one thing she really wanted.
‘Thanks. And you know, I didn’t come here because I was unhappy with you and Lucy. I just thought it was time to pick up the pieces, become a bit more independent.’
He nodded his understanding and said, ‘Do you plan to go back at all? To college?’
‘Next year, perhaps. I’ll see how I feel nearer the time.’ The waiter put some snacks on their table. She picked an almond out. ‘I suppose life just suddenly feels too serious to be at college.’
‘Perhaps it’ll feel different next year.’ The drinks arrived and Simon looked slightly embarrassed by the extravagance of the glass and its contents.
She laughed and said, ‘It’s nonalcoholic. Try it.’
He sucked on his straw and admitted defeat. ‘Yes, it’s pretty good.’ He still seemed vaguely uncomfortable, as if the drink’s appearance was out of step with his image of himself. ‘Now, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to do nothing with your time so I’ve put together some homework for you.’ He looked around, then reached down and took a folder out of a briefcase next to his chair. She’d never seen him or her father carrying a briefcase before and it looked out of place. She wondered if it was his or if he’d borrowed it. ‘These are some profiles of the various companies within the family business. If you feel like visiting any of them, seeing how they operate, it’s easy to arrange.’
‘All in good time, perhaps. I am interested and I will look through this but . . .’
‘I know. I understand. You don’t have to get involved. But it’s good for you to know a bit more about it, just in case.’
She finished the sentence in her head, knowing that he meant just in case he wasn’t around, and she said, ‘You don’t think we’re still in danger?’
‘No!’ He was almost too dismissive.
‘But we could be. I mean, why did they try so hard to kill me and then just give up? And the police—they don’t know we’re safe. They removed the protection because nothing happened over the summer, but that doesn’t mean anything.’ Too much had spilled out, giving the impression she’d been dwelling on these things, which she had.
Simon looked calm, though, as he said, ‘This is why I want you to put your mind to something else. Look at the file.’ She put the folder next to her on the banquette and patted it.
Her phone rang then and she looked at the call display. ‘Estate agent,’ she said to Simon as she answered it. ‘Hello?’
‘Are you still in the Savoy?’
She felt visibly flustered for a second but Simon was poking noncommittally at the snacks. ‘Oh, hi, Peter. Yes, I’m in the American Bar with my uncle at the moment.’
‘Can you be ready in half an hour?’
‘Half an hour?’ She looked at Simon and he gestured for her to go ahead. ‘Yeah, that should be fine.’
‘I’ll pick you up.’
‘Okay. See you then.’ She hung up the phone and said, ‘It’s a flat in Kensington. They’ve been really awkward about viewing so I didn’t want to pass up on it.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I have to dash off soon anyway.’ He took one more mouthful of his drink, picked up his briefcase.
‘Simon, I don’t mean to go on, but don’t you ever wonder if they’re still out there? I mean, don’t you ever wonder if they’re just biding their time, if they’ll have another go at us?’
He frowned slightly. ‘Sometimes. Luce worries about it, as you can imagine. She still checks on the boys two or three times in the night. But I think whoever wanted Mark dead must feel avenged enough by now, and must be smart enough to know that killing you or me won’t add anything to that revenge.’
‘You don’t think about getting revenge yourself?’