Wait. What if …
An idea is starting to form in my mind. Of all the expressions Lewis might have used, he chose that one.Hechose it: Lewis Braid.
I’ll need to check to see if I could be right. A simple internet search will sort that out.
‘I’ll see you at the Marriott,’ I say as evenly as I can manage.
‘Are you all right?’ Lewis asks. ‘You look a bit …’
‘I’m fine.’
‘What room are you in at the hotel?’
‘We won’t be going to my room,’ I tell him. ‘I’ll meet you in the lobby.’
We leave the building together. Lewis smiles and waves at the three receptionists on his way out. I hand my laminated pass back to Wayna.
Once we’re outside, Lewis heads for his car without looking at me or saying goodbye. I walk over to my taxi, more grateful to be reunited with my silent driver than I would have believed possible.
As we pull out of VersaNova’s car park, I fumble in my bag for my phone. It won’t take long to search for the name that I might have invented …
A few seconds later, I have the confirmation I need. And no idea at all what it might mean.
21
I’m sitting in the lobby of the Marriott, facing the main doors, when Lewis and Flora walk in.At last.It’s nearly two hours since Lewis and I left VersaNova together. He looks preoccupied and determined, as if he’s in the middle of completing an important task and nobody had better interrupt him until it’s done. He’s still holding his black leather bag, the same one he had with him at the office. Flora looks at me, then quickly looks away, as if she might still avoid an encounter with me if she plays this right.
It occurs to me only now, when I see them together: he looks a lot younger than she does. That never used to be true. Whatever they’ve been through, she’s come out of it worse.
I stand up and walk towards them. Flora stops. For a moment, I wonder if she might turn and run again. Lewis drapes his arm over her shoulder. Anyone else in the hotel lobby who observed the gesture would think it was affectionate: a man putting his arm round his wife. To me it looks as if Lewis also fears Flora might try and escape.
None of us says hello. Lewis says, ‘Let’s go to your room, Beth.’
‘I told you, I’m not doing that. We can sit there and talk.’ I point to an octagonal space nearby, marked out by eight white floor-to-ceiling pillars. Between the pillars, on a raised platform, there are tables and chairs. ‘No one’s sitting there. We’d have it to ourselves.’
‘I’m not doing this in a public place,’ says Lewis. ‘Either we go to your room or Flora and I leave. What do you think we’re going to do to you, Beth?’
My room has a balcony that overlooks the swimming-pool terrace, where there are bound to be a good number of people sunbathing or reading on loungers. If I leave the door to the balcony wide open, so that I can shout for help if I need to …
‘Can I see what’s inside your bags before you bring them into my room?’ I say.
‘From TV detective to airport security.’ Lewis shakes his head.
I don’t care how disappointed he is in me. I don’t trust him and I’m not taking any risks. I’ve never trusted anyone less, in fact. He needn’t be here, with a story he’s reluctant but prepared to tell me. There’s only one reason why he’d bring Flora here and give up his working day to explain things to me that – as he correctly pointed out – are none of my business: he’s still hoping to control me. He wants to satisfy my curiosity because he fears what will happen if he doesn’t.
‘You can look in Flora’s bag.’ He pulls it off her shoulder and hands it to me. ‘Mine’s full of confidential documents. I can leave it in the car, if it bothers you?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘Fine. Give me five minutes.’ Flora tries to follow him when he moves to leave the lobby. ‘What are you doing?’ he asks her.
‘Coming with you.’
‘Why? Wait here.’
He leaves. Flora stares down at the ground.
‘Are you angry with me?’ I ask her.
