He looked like he wanted to say something. The same expression appeared on his face that he’d had in the car when he’d been trying to apologise. But I was exhausted. I switched off the lights. “Goodnight,” I said.
He turned and went into the bedroom.
Chapter 22
Of course, I didn’t sleep a wink.
My mind was racing. Thoughts of the men in both bedrooms were in my mind. Thoughts of being chased by Dhapinder Bliss. Thoughts of Riz’s face. The one time I got close to sleeping, his glassy open eyes appeared in my mind, and I jerked awake.
We were no closer to finding out who killed him, and the election was twenty-four hours away.
Not more than an hour after I turned in, it was bright sunshine outside. Because northern Europe and our 4 a.m. sunrises in summer.
I gave up on sleep and sat on my phone, hoping that Instagram would cure my ills. Like most things related to my phone, it made everything worse.
By 5 a.m., I’d put my clothes back on and dozed on the sofa as best I could. Ollie wouldn’t be up for hours; he usually went into the office for 10 a.m., as barristers started a little later than most. The benefits of being self-employed.
At around 8 a.m., the door to the spare room opened, and an angry red-haired bastard emerged. He was wearing nothing but his boxers and looked dishevelled. He took one look at me, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door.
A few minutes later, I heard Ollie get up and turn on the shower in the en suite. I lay there in my sweaty T-shirt and wondered where my life was going.
Simon came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, freshly towelled off and once again in his boxers. A tight white pair.
“Good morning,” I offered diplomatically.
He nodded. “I’ll get dressed.”
I hopped up and took his place in the bathroom. I spent too long under the shower, wanting the world outside to disappear.
Eventually, feeling somewhat refreshed, I turned the water off and dressed. I made do with the meagre toiletries in the bathroom – luckily, there was always toothpaste in here for people who stayed over – usually Ollie’s friends or his parents or one of his annoying brothers. So, with some vigorous brushing, I was able to get rid of the dead animal that had crawled into my mouth in the night.
The living room I emerged into was very different from the one I had left twenty minutes earlier. Ollie, freshly showered and wearing one of his dark blue suits, was pouring cafetière coffee for Simon as they each munched on toast. Simon stood at the counter, fully dressed, with his shoes on and ready to leave at a moment’s notice. The pair were laughing and joking and getting along. Why did that make me annoyed?
“Good morning, sleepy head,” Ollie said. “Have you left any hot water for the rest of London?”
“Not intentionally,” I said. He pushed a cup of coffee towards me.
“Made the way you like it. So, stultifying sweet and milky that you can’t even tell it’s coffee.” He gestured to Simon. “I’ve been asking for more details on some of the aspects of this that don’t make sense. It kept me up all night.”
“None of it makes any bloody sense,” I said, sipping my coffee as I sat to put my shoes on. “There’s the whole Jed aspect we didn’t even get to last night.”
“The vicar?” Ollie asked. “What about him? Wait, the chap who got attacked?”
Simon’s demeanour had completely changed in seconds. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” I told him. “Whatever it is, you need to tell us.”
Ollie looked between us. “Wait, there’s a whole other part of this you still haven’t told me?” He glared at Simon. “Are you fucking joking, mate?”
“Oh, yes, there’s some secret between Simon, Jed, and Guy Frobisher, which they’ve already lied to me about once.” I was quite enjoying Simon’s furious expression. His scowling and judgements had taken their toll on me, and well, I wanted answers. His endless moods be damned.
“Go on, tell us,” Ollie said.
Simon hesitated. “There’s more to it than that. Arden, you know the job I do, you know what could happen if I started talking about this stuff.”
“No, I don’t, Simon. I have no idea what you do. So don’t try and fob me off with spy bullshit.”
“Spy?” Ollie said, dribbling a bit of his coffee down his chin as he choked in surprise. He wiped it away before trying to ask more questions.
“I can’t say anything in front of him,” Simon said, jerking his head at Ollie.
