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BEING ACCOSTED IN THE street had left Olivia shaken.
The weekend was approaching, but she didn’t want to spend any time out in central London, terrified she’d be spotted again. Instead, she went into work, and then came straight home, keeping her head down and praying no one called out that name again.
At least Ellen had been in brighter spirits at work. Liv hadn’t told her about the pregnancy, and the longer she stayed quiet, the harder it was to bring herself to say something. She hoped Ryan would take the deed out of her hands. She hated to think of Ellen bumping into Ryan and the new woman, Sierra, and glancing down to see a large bump that had clearly been conceived when they’d been together. Ellen would rather hear it from her friend than find out like that, but still Liv couldn’t bring herself to say anything.
It had been a long day, and, even though it was Friday evening, all she wanted to do was crash on the sofa with a microwave meal and a glass of wine. She picked up the remote control for the television and flicked through the channels, finally deciding on the evening’s news.
Tammy was curled in the easy chair on the other side of the room, her laptop balanced on her thighs, scrolling through social media while she ate an entire packet of Wispa bite-sized. Liv didn’t think either of them were exactly an advert for a balanced diet that evening. Her flatmate would be going out clubbing later, but none of the clubs even got started until midnight, so Tammy was just chilling out before starting yet another weekend of partying.
A headshot of a familiar face appeared on screen, and Liv almost knocked over her wine.
“Oh, my God.”
Her tone got Tammy’s attention. “What’s the matter?”
She pointed at the television. “It’s the girl. The one who—” Liv caught herself. She’d almost said, ‘who Michael had been arguing with.’ “The one who went missing,” she said instead. “Looks like they found her body.”
“Oh, how sad. Do they know what happened to her?”
Liv squinted slightly as she read the banner at the bottom of the screen. “Suspected suicide, by the looks of it. They found her body at the bottom of a cliff near Dover.” Her pulse was racing, and she felt lightheaded and shaky.
“I bet they trace it back to social media bullying. Seems like all suicides these days lead back to that.”
She wanted to say that Tammy was over-generalising, but she wasn’t in the mood to get into a debate with her flatmate right now.
“Well, at least we know there isn’t some psychopath wandering around London killing young women,” Tammy added.
Liv barely heard her. Did Michael know the woman was dead?
Tammy looked at her curiously. “Are you all right? You’ve gone really pale, and your hand is shaking.”
She put down her wine, which was in danger of slopping out of the sides of the glass, and shoved her hands into her lap to stop them trembling. “Yes, fine. Just always makes me think of my own mortality when someone young dies, you know?”
Tammy frowned at her in a way that suggested she didn’t know at all, and then pulled her laptop back into place and looked down at it. The conversation was over in her flatmate’s mind, but Liv couldn’t get the thought of the poor girl out of her head. Should she mention it to Michael? Yes, she’d have to, even though it would be in a casual way. It wasn’t as though she suspected Michael of anything untoward. Or did she? People came into contact with random strangers hundreds of times a day in the city. Not every one of them would be considered a suspect. Besides, the police said it was suicide, so the poor girl had done it to herself.
Even so, the urge to look Michael in the face while she told him about the young woman’s death was too great to ignore. She knew it wasn’t something she’d be able to shrug off unless she spoke to him about it.
She picked up her phone and fired off a quick text to Michael.
Are you free for a quick coffee tomorrow? Need to see you.
Her thumb hovered over the green key. She almost didn’t send the message, nervous about what he might say, but then she bit down on her worries and sent it.
She clenched the phone in her white-knuckled hand, breathlessly awaiting a reply. What if he said he was busy, and then she’d be left to stew on this all weekend? She thought she might go crazy. The anxiety was back again, pecking at her nerve endings like the pigeons in Trafalgar Square. She took another couple of gulps of wine, hoping the alcohol would help to calm her. Callie was right—she had been drinking too much lately, though it wasn’t for the reason Callie had assumed. She sneaked a glance over at Tammy, seeing if her flatmate had noticed anything was wrong, but the other woman was engrossed in whatever she was looking at on her laptop.
Liv’s phone buzzed, making her heart lurch and her stomach tumble. It was him.
Love to. How about lunch? My treat. X
She allowed herself to exhale a sigh. It wasn’t perfect, but tomorrow she’d be able to ask him about the blonde again, and watch his expression when he heard the other woman was dead. If he knew more about it than he was letting on, she was sure she’d pick it up from his body language.
Besides, she had no reason to think Michael was violent. It was only because something had felt a little off that day at Hyde Park that the woman’s face had even stuck in her head. Michael had a few quirks, but didn’t everyone? And he’d only ever been charming and attentive with her.
She was probably over thinking this whole thing.
***
THE NEXT DAY SHE MET Michael for lunch. She hadn’t slept well the previous night, lying awake until the early hours and then waking up every hour until it was time to get up. The lack of sleep had done nothing for her mental state, and when she had managed to get to sleep, her dreams had been vivid and violent, with some faceless person chasing her in the dark. Her tiredness meant she was struggling to get her thoughts together, and no matter how much coffee she mainlined, she felt as though her mind was a tangle of worry and paranoia.
The place they’d chosen for lunch was a small sandwich bar that looked out onto the Thames. It was tucked away, but still Liv couldn’t help worrying the man from the other day might see her. She felt eyes on her from every direction, and when the feeling got too strong, she whipped around, certain she’d find him standing there, only for the space to be empty.
She arrived before Michael, so she ordered them both a coffee and took a seat at a small round table in the corner. She didn’t think she’d be able to eat anything. Her stomach was in knots.
Within minutes, his familiar tall, dark figure blocked out the doorway. The moment she saw him, some of her nerves eased. He was dressed casually in jeans and a light grey t-shirt. This was Michael. Handsome, respectable, caring Michael. She didn’t have any reason to be nervous of him.
“Hi,” he said, walking over. He leaned down and kissed her, and she did her best not to tense at his touch.
“Hi. I ordered you a coffee.”
“Thanks. What about something to eat? Are you having anything?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m fine, but you go ahead and order something if you want it.”
“Nah, I think I ate my own weight in bacon rolls for breakfast.” He sat down opposite her and ducked his head as he looked at her. “Everything all right, Livvy? You seem kind of quiet.”
She looked down at her coffee, twisting the cup in her hands. “Oh, it’s nothing, really.”
He reached across the table and covered the back of her hand with his much larger palm. “Yes, it is. If something is bothering you, you can tell me.”
He looked into her eyes as he spoke, and she felt the sudden urge to blurt out everything. She didn’t know why he always made her feel that way. All he needed to do was look at her and tell her to do something, and she found herself agreeing.
Her mouth ran dry at the prospect of speaking to him about this, but she knew she was going to. That had been the whole reason she’d asked to see him. The words sat on the tip of her tongue, ready to trip off at their own accord.
“Do you remember a couple of weeks ago when I bumped into you outside Hyde Park?”
“Yes?” There was still a smile on his face, but it was cautious now.
“You were arguing with a young woman, a blonde, who you said had short-changed you.”
“Right?” he said, elongating the word.
She could tell he was trying to prompt her to get to where this was leading.
She picked up her phone and quickly scrolled through to the news article which had the woman’s face on it. “Her name is Holly Newie. She was found dead yesterday.”
He took the phone, the smile gone now, frowning down at the screen. Liv studied his expression, watching for any sign of an emotional reaction towards seeing the dead woman’s face and hearing her name.
“Is this the same woman?
His comment threw her. “Umm, yes, I’m pretty sure it is. She went missing only a few days after I’d seen you, and I recognised her right away.”
His lips twisted and he slowly shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s the same woman. I mean, there’s a lot of blonde twenty-somethings in London.”
Her mind blurred with confusion. “It is her. I’m sure of it.” But was it? He’d already planted doubt in her mind. How well had she seen the girl, really? It had only been a glimpse, and from a distance. The woman had already walked off by the time she’d reached them. Maybe Michael was right, and she’d been worrying about this all completely unnecessarily. After all, Michael must have got a much better look at the woman than she had, and if he said it wasn’t the same woman, then maybe it wasn’t.
Liv gave a long sigh and reached across to take her phone back. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I was letting that bother me so much.”
He smiled at her. “You care about people. That’s a good thing.”
She nodded and sipped her coffee. He wouldn’t say that if he knew what she’d done in her past.
“Anyway,” he continued, “when are you going to arrange for me to meet some of your friends?”
“Oh, soon.” She was uncertain as to why a fresh set of nerves had started churning her stomach. “There’s no rush, and Ellen’s just come out of a long term relationship. I’m not sure she’d appreciate me rubbing you in her face.”
He frowned and leaned forward, locking her with his dark gaze. “You promised you’d arrange something, Olivia. You shouldn’t go back on your word.”
“I’m not going back on it. I’ll set something up, I promise.”
“Next week, then,” he insisted.
“Sure, next week.”
She hoped his insistence didn’t have anything to do with the man who’d accosted them in the street. Perhaps Michael thought her friends would know more about her than he did, and wanted to barrage them with questions.
It didn’t matter if he did.
She’d always been good at keeping secrets.