Secret Smile

'Naomi? No.'

'When will she be in next?'

'I dunno. She only comes in a couple of days a week as a general rule. She's a medical student in real life. She didn't say anything about a scarf, though. Do you want me to have a look out back?'

'Don't worry. I'll come back later,' I said.

I joined the rush-hour queue at the bus stop a few yards down the road from the door I'd seen Naomi and Brendan enter. The curtains in the upstairs room were still drawn. I stood there for fifteen minutes, shifting from foot to foot and watching the buses arrive and go. Eventually the curtains in the flat were opened, though I didn't see by whom. If I waited long enough, one of them had to come out. If it was Brendan, I'd knock at the door and hope she was there. If it was Naomi, I'd catch up with her and talk. If it was both of them together – well, I'd think about that when it happened.

In the event, it was Brendan who emerged. He was wearing baggy black trousers and a grey woollen jacket and carried a silver rucksack over one shoulder. I pressed myself against the bus stop, among the crowd, worried that he might be coming my way. He passed by on the other side of the road, walking with a jaunty step and whistling to himself.

I waited until he was out of sight and then crossed the road and went up to the door. I ran an anxious hand through my hair, took a deep breath, and rang the bell. She took a bit of time answering and I was beginning to think that she had left earlier than Brendan, but then I heard feet coming down the stairs. When she opened the door, she was wearing a white towelling robe and her hair was bundled up in a towel. She looked even younger than before.

'Hello?' she said, peering through the gap. 'Can I…?' Then recognition and puzzlement came into her face. 'But aren't you the woman in Crabtrees?' she asked.

'Yes. Sorry to intrude like this. I'd really like to have a word with you.'

'I don't understand. What are you doing here? How did you know where I lived, anyway?'

'Can I come in? Then I could explain. Just a few minutes.'

'Who are you?'

'If I could just…'

'Tell me your name.'

'Miranda,' I said. I saw her eyes widen and inwardly cursed. 'You may have heard of me.'

'Oh yes, I've heard of you all right,' she said in a hostile tone. 'Now I think you'd better go.'

She started to push the door shut, but I put my hand against it.

'Please. Just a few words,' I said. 'It's important. I wouldn't be here if it weren't important.'

She hesitated, biting her top lip as she stared at me.

'I won't be long,' I said. 'But there's something I have to tell you. Please.'

At last she shrugged and stood back to let me pass.

'Though I can't for the life of me think of anything you could tell me that I'd want to know.'

I followed her up the stairs and into the tiny living room. There was a splaying bunch of bluebells in a jam jar on the table, and medical textbooks. A man's leather jacket was slung over the chair. She turned to face me, hands on her hips, and didn't ask me to sit down.

'I don't know what you've heard about me,' I began.

'I know that you used to go out with Ben,' she said, and I blinked at her. He was 'Ben' now, was he? 'And I know you couldn't let go when he ended it; that you made his life a misery for a while.'

'What about Laura?' I demanded. 'Did he tell you about her?'

'Of course. Laura was his wife and she died and his heart was broken.' I saw tears start up in her candid grey eyes. 'He's told me everything. Poor Ben.'

'And Troy? He's told you about Troy, has he?' I asked harshly.

'He still has nightmares about it.'

'Naomi, listen. You don't know what you're getting into here. Brendan – Ben – he's – there's something wrong with him. Really wrong, I mean.'

'How dare you say that. You, of all people. He's suffered more in his life than anyone has a right to suffer, but it hasn't made him bitter or closed-off. He's even nice about you; he understands why you've behaved like you do.'

'He makes things up,' I said.

'No.'

'He lies, Naomi. But there's more to it than that.' I felt quite sick with frustration and wretchedness.

'I don't want to hear any more.'

She actually put her hands to her ears as she said this. I raised my voice.

'I think you're in danger.'

'You're talking about the man I love.'

'Listen. Just hear me out. Please. Then I'll go. But please listen, Naomi. Please.'

I put my hand on her arm and when she tried to pull away, gripped her harder.

'I don't think she wants to listen. No one wants to listen to you any more, do they? Mmm? Now take your hands off her.'

I turned.

'Brendan,' I said.

'Ben,' said Naomi. 'Oh, Ben!'

She crossed the room and put her arms round him.

'I wonder how you found me? You must have gone to a lot of effort.'

I glanced quickly at Naomi. All I could think of was that, trying to save her, I might have put her in greater danger.

'I'm very sorry that you've been dragged into this,' Brendan said to Naomi. 'I wanted to protect you. I blame myself. Are you all right?'

'Oh, you don't need to protect me!' she said. She gazed at him tenderly and put a hand up to touch his cheek. 'Anyway, it was my fault. I let her in.'

'I'll go,' I said.

'Do that,' said Brendan. He took a few steps towards me, until he was gazing down at me. He had a very faint smile on his lips. 'My poor Mirrie.'

CHAPTER 37

Three days later I got a call from Rob Pryor.

'I thought we weren't meant to talk any more,' I said brightly.

'We need to talk now,' he said.

I felt a ripple of alarm.

'Has something happened with Naomi?'

'No,' he said. 'Nothing has happened with Naomi. I couldn't believe that you'd been to see her. That you were watching her.'

'I had to,' I said. 'It felt like a moral duty.'

'I want you to come and see me.'

'What about?'

'This whole business with you and Brendan. It can't go on like this.'

'I know what you mean,' I said. 'I feel like someone with a disease.'

'We're going to sort it out,' he said.

'When do you want me to come?'

'One other thing first. Miranda, do you have a solicitor?'

'What do you mean?'

'I think it would be useful if you had some sort of legal representation.'

'The only time I've had a solicitor is when I bought my flat.'

The whole idea seemed laughable, but Pryor didn't give up. He asked me if I knew anybody at all who was a lawyer. I thought for a moment and then remembered Polly Benson. The main thing about Polly is that when we were at college she was the biggest party animal of us all, which was saying something. Pryor said it would be a good idea if I brought her along. I wasn't sure if this was a good idea. I hadn't been in touch with Polly for ages. But Pryor was insistent. I began to get suspicious.

'Is there some problem?' I said.

Pryor's tone was soothing.

'We're going to sort this out,' he said, 'but you may benefit from some advice. Talk to your friend, then phone me. We'll make a date.'

I phoned Polly and she gave a cheerful scream when I identified myself. She was so excited. It was so great. We must get together. We must have a drink. What were my plans? I could hear a clatter as she searched around on her desk for her diary. I said that would be great, but first I had something I needed to talk to her about. I asked her if she could come with me to see someone. In fact, a detective, but it wasn't what she'd think. She said sure, no problem, straight away, just as a friend should. I said I would pay her, just like a normal client, and she laughed and said to forget it and, anyway, I wouldn't be able to afford it. She asked me what was up, so I gave her the two-minute version of the Brendan story while she murmured sympathetically.