‘Wow, it’s so heavy.’ Joanna turned the ring round in the palm of her hand and looked at the insignia. ‘What are you going to do with it?’
‘Take it to his funeral next week and see if any of William’s relatives turn up, I suppose.’ Zoe tucked the ring safely back in her handbag.
‘What about your film? Are they continuing with it?’
‘They reckon they’ve got just about enough in the can to work around William’s . . . absence. I’m heading back to Norfolk on Wednesday.’
‘And how long is your, er, friend Simon staying for?’ Joanna asked lightly.
‘I’m not sure. He’s in London for a while and I’ve said he can stay as long as he wants. The house is so big, there’s ample room for the two of us.’
‘Right.’ Joanna didn’t know what else to say.
‘I watched your face when you saw him at the house. You almost looked as though you recognised him. Do you know him?’
‘I . . .’ Joanna blushed, unable to lie. ‘Yes.’
Zoe visibly crumpled. ‘I knew you did. Where from?’
‘I’ve known Simon for most of my life. We virtually grew up together in Yorkshire. Not Auckland, I might add!’
‘Then I suppose you know that he isn’t in any way related to me?’ Zoe said slowly.
‘Yes. Or if he is, he’s never mentioned it.’
Zoe looked at Joanna uncertainly. ‘Are you aware of what he does for a living?’
‘He’s always said he was a pen-pusher for the civil service, which I suppose I never quite believed. He got a first from Cambridge and is very, very bright. Really, Zoe, you don’t have to explain. It’s obvious you have your reasons for making up Simon’s past for me and Marcus. I suppose it was just sod’s law that I happened to know him. I won’t say anything, I promise.’
‘Oh Joanna –’ Zoe fiddled with her napkin – ‘I’m so scared to trust anyone at the moment. And you less than most, being a journalist. Sorry,’ she added quickly. ‘Yet I feel I want to tell you. If I don’t talk to someone about all this, I think I shall go mad.’
‘If it’s any help, I think I know,’ Joanna said quietly.
‘You do? How? Nobody knows.’ Zoe looked horrified. ‘Has it leaked to the press already?’
‘No, don’t worry,’ Joanna was quick to reassure her. ‘Again, it was pure coincidence. I saw a . . . a man go into your house on Thursday evening.’
‘How come? Were you spying on me?’
‘No.’ Joanna shook her head firmly. ‘I went to the dentist in Harley Street, felt faint afterwards and found myself in Welbeck Street while I was looking for a taxi. I was just about to knock and ask for a cup of sugary tea and a sit-down, when your front door opened.’
Zoe frowned. ‘Please don’t lie to me, Joanna, I couldn’t take it. Are you sure someone at your newspaper hadn’t tipped you off?’
‘No! If there was a tip-off, they wouldn’t give it to a junior reporter on Pets and Gardens like me.’
‘True. Oh Christ, Jo.’ Zoe looked straight at her. ‘Did you see who the man was?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then I suppose you can guess why Simon is living in my house?’
‘Some kind of protection, I presume?’
‘Yes. They –he– insisted on it.’
‘Well, you couldn’t ask for anyone better to look after you. Simon is quite the nicest man I know.’
A glimmer of a smile crossed Zoe’s face. ‘Like that, is it? Should I tell Marcus he has a rival?’
