Ben turned on his side. “You think a lot about whatwe’regoing to do.”
“One of us has to.” Ben debated rising to this, but it was too true to complain about. He was happy wherever Nikolas was so had let him dictate their lives completely. Besides, Nikolas was stroking his backside, and it was hard to be argumentative at times like this. “I want somewhere I can have my horses. And I miss the sea.”
“I’ve never liked living in London.”
“Then it is decided. This stays as the offices. We find somewhere else to live.”
“I still have the insurance from the fire.”
Nikolas appeared to be suppressing the impulse to laugh. “That is good.”
“You…” Ben hesitated. “You hold all the cards, don’t you?”
Nikolas shrugged then nodded. He flicked his eyes up to Ben as if to see how his words would be received, and replied honestly, “I relish owning you, Ben. I need it.”
Ben gave him a small, conspiratorial smirk. “And that’s exactly why I allow you to do it.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
By the time they finally emerged from bed, they had been sent an address, and a large amount had been paid into their account. It was the beginning of their new life, and neither regretted the afternoon they’d spent indulging themselves, nor the fact that it was probably going to be their last such indulgence for a while. They were both ready to work.
Ben’s job was to follow and study the girl, find out her routines down to the smallest detail so the transfer from her one life to the other would be smooth and painless. Ben used the word transfer in his head, although every time he did, he heard the word kidnap.
He started that evening by getting to know the area around her house for good vantage points for surveillance. She lived with her mother and her stepfather in a leafy, exclusive area of London with wildly expensive houses that in other areas of the country would merely be nice, four-bedroom detached homes. Here they were the houses of the wealthy; although, every so often, Ben detected ones that had been turned into less salubrious housing, and streams of people came and went from the tiny, divided flats, and older cars lined the streets in front. It was relatively easy, therefore, for Ben to blend in and watch the house in question. It was dark by the time he arrived, still early in the year, and no one came or went during the evening. He returned early the next morning and watched as a top-of-the-range convertible pulled out from behind the large, solid gates and joined the busy London streets. He tailed the car into the city and watched as it parked in a private, underground car park. He texted the address to Nikolas and within a few minutes had a reply back from him.Corporate lawyer. That figured.
Ben left the city and returned to the house. It was still early. Eventually, a sleek Mercedes pulled out of the driveway, and Ben shadowed the school run until the girl was dropped off at a small prep school a few miles from the house. She went in with a gaggle of other small girls dressed in tartan skirts, blazers and hats. He reckoned she was there for the day, accounted for. He followed the Mercedes back to the house and then watched as a small van with the logoWe Clean So You Can Preenpulled up to the gates and went through. Within five minutes of its arrival, the Mercedes pulled back out of the driveway and headed toward the city. Ben followed, and when it parked, again in an underground car park, he did as well and tailed the occupant into a large shopping complex. She appeared to be in her midtwenties from the rear, but Ben knew from texting her licence plate details to Nikolas that she was actually thirty-one.
She had long, sleek, glossy hair in a colour which made Ben think of chocolate. It swung and bounced behind her as she walked. She was dressed in what looked like very casual jeans and a sweater, but from living for three weeks with Nikolas, Ben suspected it was probably the kind of artful casual only the very rich could achieve. Her first stop was a hairdresser. Ben settled down in a coffee shop opposite and gave her twenty minutes. Two hours later, he was still there, but his caffeine buzz was superb. Finally, she emerged. As far as he could tell, she still had exactly the same hair. It was almost funny. He then had the pleasure of watching her shop for an hour, mostly beauty products and lingerie, and then she went into a chic restaurant and joined a table where three other women, also loaded down with shopping bags, sat sipping white wine. She stayed in the restaurant having lunch with her friends for another two hours, and then she made her way back to the car, passed by the school to pick the girl up, and they returned home together. For an ex-Special Forces soldier, this couldn’t be described as a startlingly interesting or exciting day. And, deep joy, it wasn’t over yet.
Precisely five minutes after they returned home, they set off again, this time on foot and with a dog straining on a lead. Ben followed on foot as well and watched as they entered a park. The girl let the dog off the lead and ran about happily playing. The mother sat on a park bench, pulled out her phone, and began texting. Ben wondered if she was telling her friends about her challenging day. They stayed in the park for an hour then walked home. Ten minutes later the car pulled out again, and this time he tailed it back to the school, where the girl now emerged in ballet clothes and ran with a few other girls into the building. The mother waited outside for an hour in the car. The girl came out; they drove home. Another hour passed, and the stepfather returned in the BMW. Ben stayed outside until ten then went home.
He contemplated suicide on the way but tried to stay focused.
If he’d found Nikolas doing something fun or interesting he’d probably have killed him, but when Ben arrived he was on the phone, and there was a full ashtray of cigarette butts alongside him, indicating he’d been there some time. Ben gave him a pissy look and removed them. Nikolas gave him an equally pissy look back and continued giving monosyllabic replies into the phone. Eventually, he snapped it closed and sank his head into his hands, running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck.”
Ben raised his eyebrows. “So, how was your day, darling?”
Nikolas lifted his head. “Sorry. How was your day?” Ben gave him the edited version, which took about thirty seconds, then asked, “Who was that on the phone?”
Nikolas stared out of the window into the darkness beyond. “Philipa.”
“Uh huh. And…?”
“I have to go down and see her this weekend.”
Ben felt a totally unexpected stab of jealousy. He’d never been jealous of Nikolas’s wife before. “Why?”
“It is complicated, Benjamin.” He gave him a swift look to see if he’d get away with this patronising comment, and when Ben didn’t rise to it, he capitalised on the moment quickly, “So, what is your way in with the girl and the mother? Taking up ballet, maybe?”
“Funny. Very funny. I was thinking along the lines of the ladies who lunch.”
“In what way?”
“I meet the mother through one of them—as a new boyfriend. They were all incredibly fuckable.”
Nikolas went to the counter and turned on the kettle. “Do you want something to eat?” Before Ben could reply, he hissed angrily, “I do notwantto go down there, Ben. I am obligated. You could come—if you really want.”
“Well, that would be awkward.”
