I looked over. Oh, it was nine thirty. Not actually that early. And it was Nigella. I didn’t have the energy, but I answered anyway.
Kennedy was most put out that I was moving around and huffed.
“Hello?”
“Good, you’re awake. I never know what hours you keep. Anyway!” she said, changing her tone to bright and breezy. “You might want to get dressed and come down to my place. Put on a clean T-shirt and brush your hair. I’ve a full spread for breakfast.”
“Are you throwing a brunch?” I asked.
“An intimate one, yes, just you, me and … er, Verity.”
I was fully awake. “What?”
“She’ll be here by ten, so chop-chop,” she said. “Now, don’t be mad. She rang me yesterday morning, before that whole … incident. She wanted to know what was going on. Oh, Arden, you hadn’t told her anything about Riz; she had no idea. The pair of you need your heads knocking together. As my last act as a gossipy old woman, before I hang up my meddling hat, I shall do just that. And she said she has some big news for you.”
Probably that I was having my contract cancelled. Or that I owed Donal and Ffion money.
“Fine,” I said. “But I intend to sulk the entire time.”
“That’s the spirit, love. See you in a bit.”
I stood up. Hated the world. Showered. Was furious with myself. Combed my hair. Muttered under my breath about who the fuck these people thought they were. I looked in the mirror and mushed up my fringe againbecause my hair, when combed, made me look like a seventies-pornstar-slash-twelve-year-old-boy. And then I cursed out Nigella. And Verity. And Guy. And Simon. And Ollie. And fuck it, Sonia, too. And Maslin. And God. And the fates and my mother and everyone I’d ever seen naked or had seen me naked and the weather and …
“I think I do need a holiday,” I told Kennedy. “Shall we go to the seaside next week?”
He wagged his tail at that. “Good, we’ll go somewhere miles away, and my phone will be left here. We’ll go on nice long walks, and no one will bother us. No one.” At the wordwalkhis tail started wagging harder.
Feeling slightly less annoyed, but frankly, still thoroughly pissed off with the world, I left the house, with Kennedy following me.
After reaching the village, I walked down the street towards Nigella’s place. Too dazed from the previous few days to realise what was going on around me. It all reverberated in my mind. Suzy was our new MP. Verity was in Lilbury. Simon and Guy had been having threesomes with squaddies from Simon’s military base for years. One of them died in Guy’s house, and they covered it up.
It was all too much. My head was pounding. On top of this, it really was going to be the hottest day on record. Already, I was sweating profusely from the sun beating down on the ground.
My phone rang. I took it out of my pocket, even though I wanted to ignore it. An unknown number. I answered.
“Arden?” came a now familiar cockney accent. “Listen, I’ve found something. I’m not sure what it means. But you need to be careful. If this is correct, then you were right, Stuart Murray’s family killed Riz …” His voice crackled out. The reception was terrible.
“Jack? Jack, I can’t hear you.” The line was gone. I tried to call him back.
A car drove down the street beside me too fast and distracted me from my phone. I looked up to scowl at whatever prick couldn’t follow speed limits and saw a shape I recognised instantly. “Oh, shit.”
I began walking the other way back towards the cut-through by the pub.
The car came to a screeching halt about twenty metres in front of me. Shit, shit, shit.
“Arden!” I heard him call. The car door slammed, and I began to pick up the pace. Kennedy bounded along beside me.
Ollie was still following me and still calling my name. “Arden!” he yelled again. “Please, wait!” I kept walking.
“Arek!”
I stopped dead in my tracks at the corner of Nigella’s street. She was in her front garden. We made eye contact, and she lifted her head in awhat gives?gesture.
Ignoring her, I turned and stalked back over to Ollie. “Don’t you ever call me that. Ever again! You hear me? You. Don’t. Call. Me. That.” I punctuated every word with a prod to his chest.
“You said I could—”
“Yeah, in private. Before.”
