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JANINE NODDED SLOWLY. She was pressed against a man’s body that smelled of sweat and garlic. She knew, without looking, that the sharp object against her temple was a gun.
“Not a sound, is that clear?” the voice wheezed in her ear.
She nodded again.
The gun was removed. She turned around to face the intruder. Her heart stopped. She would have sunk onto the floor if he hadn’t caught her. Disbelieving, she stared at him. Was this a dream? Or had she stepped into some kind of twilight zone? Was it...could it...? “Jake,” she said in a whisper like a whoosh from the cold breeze blowing in through the open window.
He grinned. “Surprised?”
She couldn’t speak. Her eyes drifted to the weapon in his hand. Not the Beretta but a smaller, even more lethal-looking pistol. Black and stubby, it sat in his hand like a cobra ready to strike. She backed away. “You were going to shoot me?”
He made a gesture with the pistol. “No, but...I didn’t know what you’d do. Didn’t even know if it was you coming in here. Could have been the dude you were spending the evening with.”
“Pretty little toy.”
He looked at it. “Yeah. Walther PPK. Can make a nice little hole in someone’s head. Fits into my inside pocket nicely. Very handy in tight spots.”
“Oh.” Her knees like jelly, Janine sank down on the edge of the bathtub. Shivering uncontrollably, she kept staring at him. Jake, but not the Jake she remembered. Not the laughing, suntanned, blond vagabond with the brilliant smile and sparkling eyes. He had shaved his head and his face was battered. His nose looked as if it had been broken and there was a jagged scar above his eyebrow. His skin above the stubble was pale and blotchy and there was a mean edge in the steel blue eyes.
“Jake,” she said again, not believing her eyes.
He looked at her with just the hint of a smile. “Yes, babe, it’s me.”
Janine pushed her hair away from her face, her hand shaking. “I thought...they told me you were dead. They showed me your Beretta, so I was sure.”
He shrugged. “Hell, yeah, that was bad luck. They took a potshot at me that caught me in the chest. I fell, stunned for a while. Thought I’d bought it, to be honest. Must have looked dead to those guys. They grabbed my Beretta and kicked me a couple of times. Then they just took off. I stayed there for a while, but then I realised the wound was just superficial. The bullet had hit the edge of my phone in the pocket of my shirt and just grazed my chest. The impact stunned me and there was quite a lot of blood. I managed to find a small pharmacy that was still open and got some bandages. The shop keeper helped me stem the blood and fix up the wound.”
“Oh,” was all Janine managed to say. She kept looking at him, trying to come to terms with him being there, right in front of her. She touched his arm briefly just to make sure he wasn’t a ghost or a figment of her imagination. Then she saw the tattoo of two entwined Js on his wrist and knew. It was really him and this wasn’t a dream. She shivered. “Then, what did you do?” she asked in a near whisper.
“I wandered around for a while and walked north to the beaches and the hotels. Stayed the night in one of those Holiday Inn places. The next morning, I doubled back and snuck onto a cargo ship bound for Athens.”
“Athens?” Janine demanded. “But you were supposed to join me in Naples! I waited for days.”
He shrugged with an apologetic smile. “Yeah, I know, baby face. But there was a slight problem with transport. I thought I’d hook up with you at some stage but it proved a little difficult.”
“They said you were dead.” The pain of that day surged to the surface and Janine’s eyes filled with tears. “It was a horrible shock.”
“Sorry about that, sweetie. Should have let you know. But I was busy elsewhere. Got into a little bit of trouble in Athens and ended up in jail for a year.”
“For what?”
He smirked. “Oh, this and that. I was involved in a little con trick they didn’t like. But we won’t go there right now. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I worked in a bar for a bit when I was released. Won some money playing cards. I managed to buy the Walther PPK from an ex US marine on the run. I got out of Greece and headed for Paris. Thought I’d see if you were around, but then I picked up a newspaper, and lo and behold, there you were, on the front cover, being divorced by your husband. You had a new lover, they said, and you were even pregnant. So I decided not to butt into that scenario.”
“You believed all that shit in the newspapers? All those lies?”
“How did I know? Looked very true to me.” He looked at her appraisingly and pulled at the strap of her nightgown. “You’ve changed a lot since that time in the desert. Wouldn’t have recognised you walking down the street. But I must say you look very good.”
Janine reached for her bathrobe and put it on. “But why are you here?”
“I’m getting to that bit. I won’t say I was planning on rekindling our lost love here, but when I got into a bit of hot water on the Riviera recently...”
Janine clapped a hand to her mouth. “The jewellery heist! It was you. I knew it. I mean, I didn’t, but when I read about it in the news, I thought it was something you’d do.”
He grinned. “You know me too well. It wasn’t the money, though. It was the fun of just walking in like that and grabbing all that stuff and then strolling out again. The fact that it belonged to your ex added to the pleasure. I didn’t keep all of it. I shoved most of it into the trashcan behind the hotel, where they put all the waste from the kitchen. But they still tried to catch me and were right up my ass when I legged it to Paris, thinking I’d find you there, lover or no lover.”
“But I left over a year ago.”
He nodded, leaning against the wall. “Yes, that’s what the concierge in your building told me. ‘London’, she said. ‘Madame went there to escape the gossip’. So I hopped on the Eurostar.”
“How did you get into the UK if they were looking for you everywhere?”
He winked. “I have a UK passport in another name. Very handy.”
“Of course.” Janine sighed. “Why did I ask? So how did you get here from there?”
“I’m coming to that.” He ran his hand over his eyes. “Shit, I’m tired. I need to get some sleep. Can I lie down on your bed?”
Janine folded her arms. “No. Go on. Tell me the rest. How did you find out about me there? London’s a big city.”
“Sure is. But I had a picture of you coming out of a building that looked like an apartment block with an unusual entrance. You must have been snapped by one of those paparazzi. It was in one of those sleazy tabloids—” He shook his head and laughed. “Geez, baby, you’ve come a long way. From Vogue to—”
“Never mind that,” Janine snapped, cold and angry. “Get on with it.”
“Yeah, okay.” Jake joined Janine on the edge of the bathtub. “I asked around and someone said ‘Chelsea’, so I went there and showed the photo to some people and one of them pointed me in the right direction. Found the building. Thought I had hit pay dirt. But then the manager said you’d gone to Ireland.”
“What? He swore he wouldn’t tell anyone. I had to leave a forwarding address but he said he’d never say a word. I trusted him.”
Jake lifted his pistol. “My friend here is very good at persuading people. The manager spilled the information very fast when he caught sight of Walther.”
“Merde,” Janine groaned.
“Yeah. Fucking coward, I have to say. I got on a plane to Shannon. Just in time, I might add. The cops were after me and had sussed the fake passport. My photo was splashed all over the evening news. But coming into Shannon from the UK, you don’t have to show your passport. It didn’t take me long to find where the Dingle peninsula was. Went first to Tralee. Then I hopped on the first bus and just happened to hit the little village here. I didn’t know if this was the right one but asked around for a bit.”
“But nobody knows me here,” Janine protested.
“Nah, but how many pretty French women hiring a cottage and keeping themselves to themselves are there around these parts? And no one was willing to say anything, which was quite revealing. And when I asked this weird-looking tall guy about the cute little house by the beach and he said ‘no comment’, I knew. Only one woman volunteered anything at all. Said you’ve been going around with some man.”
Janine shot up. “WHAT?”
“Shh, not so loud. You’ll wake your boyfriend downstairs.”
“He’s not my—oh, never mind.”
“So I came here and snooped around. Thought you had seen me so I hid for a bit. Then I got into the kitchen while you were upstairs. Had a little bit of that stew.”
“So it was you who ate it?”
“Yes. Quite good. A little heavy on the garlic, but not bad otherwise.”
“Glad you liked it,” Janine said automatically. She closed her eyes for a moment. The shock of seeing Jake again slowly abated. He was there; it was the present, not the past. She opened her eyes and looked at him again. As their eyes met, she knew the chemistry had gone. He wasn’t the man she had fallen in love with. Nor was she the woman who had so willingly followed him. Events and circumstances had changed them both. She sighed, feeling a wave of fatigue wash over her. “I need to go to bed.”
He got up and stepped closer. “Yeah? Me too. Why don’t we—”
She put her hand on his chest. “No, we won’t. It’s over, Jake and you know it.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No.” She steeled herself to continue. “You’ll sleep in the box room tonight. There are blankets and pillows on the bed. I’ll make it up while you take a shower. Then you’ll get out of here as soon as my friend down there has left.”
“But where am I gonna go?” His tone was slightly whingey, which irritated her further.
“I don’t really care. But I’d suggest you head north to Donegal and from there across the border to Northern Ireland. From there, you can get a ferry to Scotland. Great place to disappear into.”
“I’m a little short of cash.” He waved the pistol at her again. “I know you’re loaded. Your ex gave you a couple of millions, I heard.”
She pushed the pistol away with her finger. “No need to point that at me. I’ll get you some. I don’t have much money in the house, but I’ll drive you to Tralee and get some out of a cash machine before you get on the bus.” She fleetingly wondered why she was helping him like this. For old times’ sake? Or a feeling she owed him after that time in the desert? Or a lingering affection? All of those things mingled together, she supposed.
He nodded, accepting defeat. “Okay. Sounds like a good plan.” He yawned. “I’m bushed. Hiding up here while you were entertaining your friend was really tedious. Had a little look around and saw your paintings. Weird stuff. Very dark. Not my taste though.”
“No. I doubt it somehow,” Janine said with a feeling she had learned far more about Jake in the past ten minutes than during several days with him in the desert. Looking at him in the bright clinical light of the bathroom, she realised this was the closure she had so desperately been seeking. Her grief had been terrible and the long, empty days after their desert adventure bleak. But now she knew she could say goodbye to him again and close the chapter. If she could only get rid of him. Brian asleep on the sofa downstairs complicated matters further. Jake was a loose cannon and Brian might have easily turned into an easy target.
“Be very quiet,” she said as she handed Jake a towel. “Have a quick shower and then get into bed.”
Jake, obviously too tired to argue, took the towel and shrugged off his jacket. Janine padded into the spare room and quickly made up the bed. A while later, Jake appeared, the towel wrapped around his waist, carrying his clothes and the Walther PPK. Janine tore her eyes away from his muscular torso and lean thighs, fighting a small surge of attraction. She skirted around him to leave and cleared her throat. “I’ll lock the door. I don’t want you wandering around in the middle of the night.”
He raised one eyebrow. “But what if I...if we—”
“No!” she hissed. “Never again, Jake.”
“Okay, babe. I get it.” He lifted the pistol and pointed it at her playfully. “Bang, and you’re dead.”
“That’s not funny.”
His eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t a joke. I’ll use it if I have to. Not a word to your friend downstairs, okay?”
She nodded.
“Good girl. Don’t worry. I’ll be gone in the morning. You’ll never see me again.”
“I sincerely hope so,” Janine said and closed the door. She could hear Jake whistle a little tune as she tiptoed across the landing to her room. She closed the window against the cold night. Shivering, she got into bed, sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep. With Jake and his pistol next door and Brian snoring softly on the sofa downstairs, it would be impossible. She pulled up the duvet, her mind whirling, her heart thumping. She couldn’t go to sleep. Jake. Come back from the dead. A different Jake from the man with whom she had fallen so desperately in love: a man with a dark, ugly, coarse side. Exhausted, she closed her burning eyes and slept, despite what had happened.
Waking up in the early morning, she wondered if it had all been a dream. But the bruise on her arm and the welt on her temple told her it was all too real. He’ll be gone soon, she thought. In just an hour or two, and Brian will be gone too.
But when she got up and looked out the window, she knew nobody would be going anywhere for quite some time.
-o-
“Ice.”
“Yes,” Brian said, looking out the kitchen window. “Everywhere. It’s not even possible to walk across the back garden without risking a broken leg. It rained last night, and then the temperature dropped to well below freezing. Everything froze.”
Janine looked at the white world outside. The path shone like a mirror, and she could see icicles hanging from the gutters. Every branch, twig and blade of grass was covered in a coating of frost. The mist enveloped the dunes in a milky haze. “It’s quite beautiful. Like a Vermeer painting.” She shivered, thinking of Jake upstairs. He hadn’t made a sound so she assumed he was still asleep. She hoped he would stay like that for a while. “Not possible to drive, then,” she said, as if to herself.
Brian shook his head. “No. Not until it thaws.” He smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the duration.”
She twirled around. “The duration? How long is it likely to last?”
“I’m not sure. The forecast said it’ll thaw tonight, but then it could take another day before the roads are passable.” He glanced at her. “I see that having me here is not an attractive prospect.” He shrugged. “I suppose you want your privacy. But I’ll be quiet. I’ll just watch TV or read. Make myself invisible.”
She put her hand on his arm. “No, Brian. You don’t bother me at all. You have no choice anyway. I was just upset that the weather turned so bad. Now I can’t go out and do all the things I had planned today.” She looked at his kind face and realised that in a strange way, it was better to have him there than being alone with Jake. As long as Brian didn’t go upstairs.
“Would you mind if I used your bathroom?” Brian said as if reading her thoughts. “I went outside during the night. I didn’t want to go upstairs and disturb you.”
“There’s a bathroom off the study,” Janine said. “It has a shower and toilet. Megan put it in when she did the extra renovations. She was going to use the study as a guestroom in case the fashion people needed a place to change and wash during shoots. I’ll get you a towel. There’s plenty of hot water. At least until the power goes, which I’m sure is the next thing that’s going to happen.”
Brian shook his head. “No. The next thing to happen is frozen pipes that will burst once it thaws.”
Janine clapped her hand to her mouth. “Merde! What do we do then?”
He laughed. “I’ve no idea. I was only joking. It probably won’t happen if it thaws soon. Hey, as a thank you for your hospitality, I’d like to cook you breakfast when I’ve had my shower. Do you have bacon and eggs?”
“Yes. But that’s all. The black pudding and fatty sausages, I leave to the locals. I’ll go and get you a towel. Then I’ll go and have a shower upstairs.”
“Great. Breakfast will be served when you come down.”
Janine walked slowly upstairs, straining her ears to listen for any sounds from the box room. As there were none, she went into the bathroom, locked the door, took off her dressing gown and stepped into the shower. She stood in the drumming water for a long time, her eyes closed, the water streaming down her face. If I could wish something, she thought, I’d wish that when I open my eyes, Jake will be gone.
-o-
Her wish was not granted. When she left the bathroom, the door to the box room slowly opened. Jake stood in the door, the pistol in his hand, peering down the stairwell.
Janine froze and wrapped her bathrobe tightly around her. They looked at each other for a moment, the tension crackling.
“Good morning,” Jake whispered.
“How did you get out? I locked the door.”
“You think a flimsy little lock like that would keep me in?”
“I suppose not. Did you sleep well?”
“Like the dead,” he murmured with the ghost of a smile. “What’s going on? When’s the dude downstairs leaving?”
She tiptoed closer and put her finger on her mouth. “He’s not. The roads are impassable because of the frost. Nobody can travel anywhere. This part of the country is at a standstill.”
“Fuck.”
“I agree.”
“What are we going to do?”
She shrugged and started to walk toward her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm. “You’d better think of a way to get rid of the guy. Or I will.”
She shook off his hand. “You’re not going to shoot anyone and you know it. You don’t want a murder on your résumé as well as theft and fraud or whatever they put you in prison for.”
“Don’t bet on it,” he said nastily. “If I kill anyone here, nobody will know who did it. I’ll be far away when they find the bodies.”
“Except you can’t go anywhere now. And,” she took a step back, “the Irish police are looking for you. Won’t be long before your picture’s on TV.”
“You’re lying.” His shocked look told her he believed her.
She shrugged. “That was the truth. But whether you believe it or not is up to you.”
He took a step closer and looked into her eyes. “Janine,” he whispered, “I’m not a monster. But circumstances have forced me to act like this. I have to protect myself, don’t you see that?”
She looked unflinchingly into his cold eyes. “You made those circumstances yourself,” she half whispered, her ear cocked for sounds from Brian downstairs. “I don’t feel sorry for you. But I know you didn’t mean to cause harm. You’re a con man, a gambler and God knows what else. You’re addicted to risk and play. You can’t stop. You’ll never stop. You live in your own world, according to your rules. It’s when you step out of it that the trouble starts. When you start inflicting your games on others. I thought I loved you, that time in the desert. When we made love, they were the best times of my life. The most sensual, wonderful beautiful times. I loved you when you put me on that ship and so unselfishly risked your life for me. I grieved for you when I thought you were dead. Grieved for our love, the only real love I’ve ever felt. I’ll never forget it. But that’s gone now. It’s over. I’ll get you out of here, but only because I don’t want to see you again. Ever.” Exhausted, she drew breath.
He looked at her, long and hard, and nodded. “Okay. Fair enough. I’ll try to behave. I’ll stay quiet until we can get out of here. In the meantime, do you think you might rustle up some breakfast?”
She met his stare with a pang of disappointment. She had almost expected him to reciprocate, to say something about his own feelings for her. But he didn’t have that generosity of spirit and had probably never felt as strongly as her. “I’ll get you something,” she said and went downstairs again.
The kitchen was empty, and she could hear the shower in the guest bathroom. She switched on the kettle and made up a tray with a cup and a plate of bread and marmalade, cheese and an orange. When the kettle had boiled, she poured the water into the teapot and put it on the tray. She was about to carry it all upstairs when Brian came into the kitchen, looking sheepish in a very tight, frilly pink bathrobe. “Not my size, I’m afraid,” he laughed. “What are you doing with that tray? I thought I’d cook you breakfast.”
She smiled at him, trying to hide her nervousness. “Oh, um, I feel very tired, so I thought I’d have breakfast in bed and have a little snooze. Didn’t sleep very well last night, I’m afraid.”
“Sorry to hear that. But I understand. Nothing much else to do, is there? You go on, I’ll get my own breakfast—” He was interrupted by a rapping on the back door.
Janine dropped the tray on the table with a clatter. “Who could that be?” Her nerves were so frayed she found it hard to speak. She tied the belt of her dressing gown and, her knees shaking, went to the door. She opened it a crack and peered out. Her heart gave a jolt as she came face to face with Mick, wrapped in a heavy fleece jacket and wool scarf.
