Now the similarities made sense. “Oh, you’re sisters!” I said, appraising them. Beyond the hairstyles and clothing, their faces were almost identical. “I have two sisters; we’re all like chalk and cheese. One blonde, one red, and I’m the brunette. Are you two close?”
“We are.” Aimee’s face clouded as she glanced toward her sister. “It’s just the two of us. So yeah, we look out for each other.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled, but I couldn’t help thinking there was suddenly something desperately sad in her expression.
After some more small talk, I left them to find my friend, but about an hour later, on my way out of the Bar Four bathroom, I took a wrong turn and pushed through a door into a storeroom. And there, at the far end in a darkened corner, were the husband and the PR girl. They were leaning against a stack of crates, and although Warren’s broad back obscured myview somewhat and although he could have been, I don’t know, checking her teeth, I could fairly happily swear on a bible that they were kissing—her silver jacket already on the floor beside them, his once neat shirt untucked. Backing slowly and quietly out through the door, I left without being noticed and hurried away, my eyes burning.Jesus!That was not what I was expecting. A big part of me felt sorry for Celeste. A small part of me couldn’t wait to tell Greta and Leesa.
14
Susan
Thursday
“So, was it an affair, do you reckon,” Leesa asks when I finish retelling the story, “or a one-night stand?”
I shrug. “Who knows, but it’s not my business and, honestly, I’d never have wanted Celeste to find out.”
“Except for the bit where you’re the one who told her…”
I’m mortified all over again, thinking about the message, and how Celeste must feel to discover so publicly that her husband is cheating.
“Does that mean Celeste sent you the threatening text?” Greta muses, fishing in her bag for one of her tablets. I don’t know how she remembers what to take when, but Greta is a machine. She researches, listens to medical advice, sees her GP regularly and takes anything and everything that will help. I’m the kind of person who buys a pack of multivitamins, takes them twice, then forgets again till they’re out of date.
“I don’t know if she’d resort to anonymous texts.”
“OK, what about the other person in the love triangle—Aimee?”
“She seemed very nice…”
“You think everyone is nice,” Greta mutters. Her tolerance for other people isn’t quite as high as mine.
“What if it’s Aimee’s husband,” Leesa says. “What if she’s married, and now her husband knows something happened at the bar opening and he’s the one sending death threats?”
“I didn’t use her name in the message…”
“But you said”—Leesa scrolls on her phone—“ ‘wrapped around the PR girl at the opening party for Bar Four.’ ” She looks up at me. “There’s enough there to identify her. Assuming there was just one PR there?”
She’s right, and I feel sick. My throwaway bitchy comment could be affecting two marriages.
Greta squeezes my arm. “It’s worded as though it was all Warren. You didn’t actually say what you saw in the storeroom. So it could be explained as just a bit of one-sided flirting, couldn’t it?”
I hope she’s right.
“Should we talk to the PR—Aimee?” Leesa asks. “Sound her out, see if there’s any chance she’s the one who sent you the threatening text?”
Greta purses her lips. “Shouldn’t we leave all this to the guards?”
“We could just get a vibe,” Leesa says. “We’ll know from talking to her if it was her or not.” She turns to me. “Do you know her surname?”
“Nope.”
“We could try her sister, who works in Bar Four.” Leesa’s on her feet, looking at her watch. “It’s just after half ten, the bar will be opening, we’ll get coffee.”
“Hang on.” I wave for her to sit. “I’m in enough trouble already—this doesn’t sound like a good idea.”
“I’ll do the talking. I’ll say a friend of mine needs PR and remembers the bartender’s sister from the opening. Come on.” She’s off her seat again.
I contemplate that for a moment. If we don’t say anything about the message or why we’re really there, it probably can’t do any harm…I look down at Bella in my arms.
“What do we do with Bella, and don’t you have to work?”
