Haze had stuck with me through this rough year and helped me find my way back. My own ineptitude leading to her nearly getting kidnapped by the assassin chasing us had been the wake-up call I needed. I wasn’t going to let her down again.
And I had faith in my relationship with my wife, even if my therapist didn’t.
I stared at the diplomas that hung on the wall behind Sally. Jenny had confirmed they were real, but did what she was saying really have any merit? I thought of the two confidential reports Jenny had found questioning Sally’s behavior. If I was starting to lose faith in what she was saying, was there any point in continuing to see her?
Chapter Fifty-Three
Fox
We were lucky that Barryhad been so deeply unpopular no one seemed to care that he was dead. It had taken three days before Rebecca Ukleja from number seven, irritated by Barry’s refusal to answer her requests for the latest Neighborhood Watch minutes, peered through the window and got a glimpse of a dead Barry.
We hovered, peering through our curtains at the coroner taking him away, and then unmuted the neighborhood WhatsApp chat. It soon became clear that his death was officially regarded as a tragic accident. A blown fuse. There were a few “how awful” messages, which, rather inappropriately soon, moved into which estate agent was going to list the house, as everyone seemed to have a friend keen to snap it up. Jenny confirmed the case had been all filed away as an accident with minimum interest or fuss.
The relief almost felt like we’d once again got away with murder, when for once we had not been the ones responsible for the dead body.
Tonight, Norwood had invited me to a backgammon night at his members’ club. It was a men-only establishment on Pall Mall. I’d thought Haze would be horrified at the concept, but she’d cackled about how funny it was that poor little men needed safe spaces.
Time spent with Norwood would further our efforts to findout more about Restore Glory, and was also a good way for me to solidify our working relationship. If he liked me, there was more chance he’d be forgiving if our numbers weren’t as impressive as they previously had been.
Norwood escorted me through the club to the library, stopping for the odd backslap and hearty handshake along the way. Suit and tie were the strictly enforced dress code, and I clocked that half the men he greeted, all significantly older than us, had suits nearly as ratty as Norwood’s. For the first time, my tailored Savile Row suit and silk Hermès tie made me feel out of place instead of quietly—and fashionably—superior.
Inside the library, several small tables were set up with backgammon boards. A few other men had already started playing.
Norwood tugged on his tie as he sat down at a table. “I can’t stand these things.”
I noticed the tie had an orange stain on it. I pictured him inside his grand dining room as a butler served him boiled egg and soldiers for breakfast.
“My ex hated me coming here,” he said. “She thought we should only ever go out together to bright shiny places where she could show off whatever tiny dress I’d paid for.”
I looked around the library. Dark wood tables, leather chairs, and musty curtains. I couldn’t imagine his ex enjoying being here even if she had been allowed in.
“She didn’t understand that it was good to occasionally spend time apart. And sometimes, I had a craving for proper conversation, with like-minded people. Don’t you find the same?”
I didn’t feel Norwood would appreciate or understand hearing that I enjoyed talking to my wife.
“Shall we start?” I motioned toward the board, which was already laid out. “I’ll be black.”
We threw the dice as Norwood motioned at a hovering waiter for another drink. He had yet to finish his first gin and tonic.
We played for a few minutes and covered the usual small talkon the markets and the latest news, along with some further gripes about his ex.
Norwood’s play was haphazard. He liked taking risks and made moves that rarely paid off. While he was crowing about having thrown a double six, I decided the time was right to launch in.
“Are you going to this party at Balgray Hall? A friend has got us tickets.”
“Wonderful! Yes, I’ll be there.” He moved a couple of his pieces. “I’m hoping it all goes smoothly. The events company have been in a bit of a tizz since losing their non-exec director. He’s missing, presumed dead. It’s all a bit of a scandal.”
I felt a prickle. I threw my dice. A two and a one. “That sounds terrible. Who is he? I haven’t seen anything in the news.”
“Clark something. He was at Boltons, that company you did so well out of. Think he dabbled with the events company as a charitable thing. Always good to support small businesses. Boltons have been trying to keep it quiet, spinning stories of him running off with his mistress.”
I slowly moved one of my pieces three places.
Remain calm.
“That’s terrible.”
Norwood threw his dice. “Boltons should clearly check the books, as a finance guy going missing usually means he’s run off with the money!”
