‘Michel De Vos, Argentina. Michel De Vos, Libya. He isn’t there, is he?’ Angel exclaimed, reading the screen of Hayley’s phone.
‘I don’t know where he is! That’s why I’m looking!’ She knew her voice was strained, but despite saying she was going to concentrate all her efforts on the fundraiser, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Oliver and the finding Michel issue.
‘The McArthur Foundation – supporting parents, carers and sufferers. We are dedicated to enhancing the lives of the living and caring for the families who’ve lost.’
Hayley turned the Globe upside down so its screen was facing the marble of the breakfast bar.
‘Why were you reading about Mr Meanie?’ Angel asked.
Hayley shrugged. ‘Just getting some background information, that’s all.’
‘I wish Ben Drummond was still alive. He sounded way more fun,’ Angel remarked.
‘That’s not nice, Miss Meanie,’ Hayley told her.
‘Cynthia liked my idea of creating the menu around the favourite foods of the family members who died,’ Angel informed her, propping up her head with her hand.
‘She did?’ Hayley asked.
‘Yeah. She said Ben loved shrimp.’ Angel twirled her hair around her finger. ‘Some weeks, when he was my age, they had to have barbecue every day.’
Hayley thought about Oliver this morning. He’d looked in so much pain before the ambulance arrived. She’d had to help him into a T-shirt and jeans. He’d leant on her for support and then he kicked her to the kerb the second he was feeling better. What was that all about?
‘Can we go and get a tree now?’ Angel asked again, batting her eyelids.
‘What?’
‘Angel, listen, you let your mom get on with her work and I promise we’ll get the biggest tree that can fit in here, we’ll take Randy for a run round the parkandI’ll shout us all waffles at Bernard’s,’ Vernon spoke up.
‘Waffles? With chocolate and honey and ice cream?’ Angel asked, turning her head to the man in the room.
‘Whatever you want,’ Vernon responded.
Hayley looked to him, catching his eye before mouthing a thank you.
Her phone made a bleep and her eyes shot to the screen.
Mother
Her eyes widened as she read the message, each word hitting like pins being poked into a newly designed dress. She thought this day couldn’t possibly get any worse. It just had. A lot worse.
I found your diary. Why are you trying to find that man?
Carly’s Coffee House, Downtown Manhattan
Dean was practically ashen with shock at the business news but had been surprisingly polite. Oliver had expected nothing short of animosity over what had happened at the hospital. He couldn’t believe Dean wouldn’t have an opinion on it – boss or no boss – so he could only conclude that Hayley hadn’t told him anything. Yet.
Regarding the business issue, Oliver had known deep down Dean would know nothing about it, but he’d had to check. He needed to be certain he could trust him with what came next.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Dean uttered, his hand shaking as he reached for his coffee cup.
‘Neither did I but there are photos and audio files.’
Dean cleared his throat. ‘What do you need me to do?’
‘I need you to come into the office with me and check all this out. There must be more evidence there.’ He paused. ‘I want to know everything about this relationship. I want to know how long it’s been going on, the extent of it, the damage it’s done and how we can rectify it all as quickly as possible without the company losing face.’
Dean nodded.
