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I stepped back into my PJs and rushed downstairs. As I entered the living room, I paused and looked around me. Liv had straightened up the coffee table, and it seemed to be okay. The real damage was to the fireplace. A huge crack ran through the tiles on one side of the surround, and I could only stare at it for a moment or two, in horror. It was a beautiful surround. Art Deco and original, I was pretty sure. I was going to have to sort it, and soon.

God, she must be regretting ever inviting me to stay. I shook my head and sighed again. Everything was such a crock of shit, and it was mainly my fault. If he hadn’t seen me being dropped off by another man, he might have been more reasonable, and Liv’s fireplace might still be in one piece. I needed to get my act together, before anything worse happened. Mr Arrogant was right. The way I was behaving, I was going to end up damaged, if not dead.

The thought of him reminded me of what I was doing in the living room, and I looked over, tentatively, at the wastepaper basket. The card was still there on the top, the black letters indistinguishable, but still very much evident. I shuddered as I recalled, yet again, the words written on it. I hardly wanted to look, to see what he’d written; yet, at the same time, I was compelled to read it.

I reached down and picked it up, almost dropping it, my fingers trembled so much. I turned it over. The writing on the back was in black ink. The first thing that struck me was the vibrancy of it; firm and decisive, the letters clear and strong, leaning forward at an angle that suggested force and determination. It might just have been where he was rushing, but I knew it wasn’t. The handwriting suited him, entirely. The second thing that struck me was what he’d written. It took me a moment or two for it to sink in, for the message behind it to hit me. Of all the things I’d expected to read, this hadn’t even figured. I flushed anew, feeling at the same time softened, and angry.

24/7 counselling, it read. No appointment necessary – tell them I sent you. If it makes no difference, call me.

There was a number hastily scrawled underneath. I just stared at it blankly.

‘Oh, great,’ I said aloud, as the implication of it hit home. ‘He thinks I’m crazy.’

I went to throw it back in the bin, before changing my mind and closing my hand around it. At least it wasn’t a proposition, although, even as I thought it, I knew I’d been hoping, somewhere deep inside myself, it would be.

He was right, of course. I was…not mad, exactly, but not entirely sane either. Maybe I ought to take him up on the offer. At least he seemed to care, and he clearly wasn’t interested in me romantically. I was surprised how much the realisation stung me, even though I’d known it was pretty unlikely, considering how I’d behaved in the F Bar.

I opened my hand again and looked at the card one more time. 24/7 counselling. God, he was by far the most beautiful, intriguing man I’d ever met, and he thought I had a screw loose. It was the perfect beginning to the day. Could it get any better than this?

    Five

Him

 

I checked my phone as soon as I got up, just in case she’d rung. I knew she wouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help myself. She hadn’t seemed particularly overawed by my charms the previous night, even though I’d tried my damnedest to get through to her. I discounted the kiss by the car. She’d shut down on me so abruptly afterwards, it was clear it had meant nothing to her.

Judging by her reaction to the texts and phone calls she’d received on the way back to Chiswick, she still had feelings for Sparkes. What those feelings were, though, was more of a mystery. She’d been on edge but, whether it was because she was afraid of ruining her chances of getting back together with him or whether she was just plain afraid of him, I couldn’t tell. In some ways, I hoped it was the former. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being afraid of him, and all that it implied. At the same time, I fervently hoped that she wasn’t entertaining the idea of getting back with him. She deserved more than that.

It seemed unlikely, anyway. My gut instinct was that she’d been more frightened than worried, if I was honest with myself. If that were the case, I’d have to keep an even closer eye on her. I’d made her a promise, whether she’d taken it in or not, and I wasn’t one to renege on my word. It was time to do a little digging regarding Leo Sparkes.

First though, I had other business to attend to. The guys watching the hooker in the flat below the one Charlotte had given us as her address had been watching her round the clock. She hadn’t gone beyond her local row of shops, but there was something in their report that didn’t sit right with me, and it was time I investigated for myself. So, Thursday morning saw me sitting in a borrowed car – I didn’t want her to spot me, and she already had my licence plate – in a parking space a reasonable distance from her flat.

I’d been sitting there for a good couple of hours already, and the experience was beginning to pall. Matt’s car radio was fucked, and there was only so many times I could listen to the same Rock Anthems album, before getting heartily sick of Whitesnake, Motorhead, and the other so-called Legends of Rock. I was just rummaging through the glove box, to see what else I could find, when I happened to look up and see her passing right by the car.

I immediately snapped my head back down, hoping she hadn’t seen me. If she had, she gave no indication, and I threw up a silent prayer of thanks to the god of faulty electronics. I let her carry on up the road a little way, before opening my door and getting out. Then, I crossed the street and strode quickly up it towards my target. I had to get there before she did, so I moved quickly, weaving in and out of the shoppers, apologising and keeping my head down.

I made it there just before she did and stood back slightly, my face turned away, to give her time to do what I was hoping she was going to do.

She did it.

As I stood there, I watched out the corner of my eye, as she took a large envelope out of her bag. As she lifted it up to put it into the post box, I moved in front of it and took it from her.

‘Oh,’ she said, her hand still open before her. ‘Not you again. Give me that now, you fucker.’

‘One of these days,’ I said, tucking it inside my jacket. ‘You’ll learn to love me.’

She gave a snort of derision. ‘Give it to me, or I’ll scream.’

‘If you take my advice,’ I said. ‘And you will, you’ll go home and forget this ever happened.’

She opened her mouth to say something else, but I cut her off. ‘Go home, Jane. Forget Charlotte.’

She flinched at my use of her name.

‘I can’t,’ she said, but she sounded less sure of herself.

‘You can.’ I couldn’t help a sigh. ‘She’s in deeper than you know. I’m trying to help her, for fuck’s sake.’

That seemed to mollify her. She looked slightly relieved and almost smiled, but not quite. Instead, she shrugged. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Just make sure you do.’

I nodded, reassuringly.

In point of fact, I wasn’t in the least sure I could do anything to help Charlotte, but it was true that I’d try, if she gave me the chance. If Rick got to her first, it might already be too late.

    Six

Him

It was at that moment that Giles’s words came back to me. He’d said someone at one of the papers had inadvertently given out her address. I wondered just what Rick would do if he did get hold of her. The way he was acting, anything was possible.

I waited until she’d crossed the road and was heading back towards her flat, then I went back to the car. Once inside, I pulled the package from inside my jacket and read the address, written in shaky capitals across the front. I let out a long, low whistle. An expensive address, indeed. Our Charlotte was doing quite nicely for herself, thank you very much. Rick had been right when he’d labelled her a call-girl. It wasn’t the kind of postcode inhabited by your average pro. But then, Charlotte had never been that. She was class all the way, hence the reason we’d been so thoroughly duped.