ANNA

March 2017 One Year Earlier

IN A MOMENT OF WEAKNESS, ANNA CONTACTED ANGUS Moody and met him for lunch. She chose Angus because once upon a time the Moodys might as well have been family. She and her siblings had treated him and Lorna like uncle and aunt, Pansy and Freya like cousins. She had thought about calling Lorna, but she had been her mother’s great friend and ally. She would be judgemental in a way that Angus wouldn’t.

Time had been kind to her parents’ old friend: his hair was silver grey, his figure trim, his posture still upright; a testament to his early years in the army. He took her to an expensive restaurant and in the spotlight of his gaze, the words spilled out. They talked for over an hour, mainly about her, but also about Izzy and the effect her death had on them all. If asked, she wouldn’t have been able to say what she had been eating or which wine he had ordered. It was so all-absorbing, so intense. She told him about Ben’s suicide, and about Kai. And later, when her pudding had been set down in front of her, he said, quite casually, ‘Of course, Nick’s working for me these days.’

Her breath caught. ‘I didn’t know that. That was good of you.’

‘I didn’t do it out of the kindness of my heart. I did it because he merits it. He’s turned into an exceptionally fine young man.’

She felt unaccountably irritated. ‘Maybe you’ll give Kai a job too one day.’

He nodded. ‘Of course. If he shows an aptitude for business. I’ll be happy to talk to him.’

She smiled. ‘I’ll send him over in five years’ time, shall I? So, how is Nick these days?’ She couldn’t help dripping vinegar into the way she said his name.

His eyes narrowed. ‘Jealous?’

‘No.’

He continued looking at her until she blushed. ‘Yes, OK. A little.’

She felt a frisson and it crossed her mind that they could start an affair, that despite, or because of, the age gap, she wouldn’t be averse. He was so charismatic. She silently chided herself. She would have to be nuts to go there. This was Tim all over again: her falling for a father figure. Ben had been much older too. Seventeen years her senior. She should stop looking for a daddy and find someone her own age.

He was talking to her, telling her about an author whose work he enjoyed, and she was mesmerized, though not by what he was saying, but by his mouth. It was the combination of relaxed self-confidence and the dizzying sense of ruthless power that provoked the fantasy.

‘It’s been good to see you again,’ Angus said, smiling as she put on her coat. ‘I hope I’ve helped.’

‘You have.’

‘Speak to your mother. It would do you both so much good.’

She shrugged, a lump forming in her throat. ‘She never loved me as much as the others.’

‘You mustn’t think that, Taisie. Parents are always harder on the oldest. It’s just the way things are.’ He smiled. ‘Not a problem Lorna and I had, of course.’

‘My name is Anna now. I’m not that little girl any more.’

He looked directly into her eyes. ‘No, you’re certainly not.’

They stood in the street, and it was as if the world fell away. The silence between them was almost a living thing, surrounding them with its tentacles, drawing them together.

‘Can I take you to bed?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she replied.

He strode past her, lifted his hand in the air and a taxi pulled into the kerb. The next thing she knew they were kissing, and the smell of his shaving lotion was in her nostrils, their mouths were locked, their hands roving under their coats. She barely had time to notice the wide avenue, the stucco facade of the house they drew up in front of, or the stone steps up to the pillared portico, before he swept her inside and upstairs, where he undressed her slowly. He didn’t appear concerned about Lorna suddenly turning up, so Anna assumed she was away. She wasn’t going to be crass enough to ask. The sex was utterly fantastic. The chest hair, which had fascinated her as a child, was grey now, but just as abundant. She ran her fingers through it and tugged playfully. He grasped her wrist and dragged her against him.

He was getting dressed in the en suite bathroom when the doorbell rang. He told her to stay put, closed the bedroom door and ran downstairs. Hearing raised voices she came out on to the landing to listen. Whoever it was, was male and Angus was trying to calm him down. What she heard was enlightening.

‘It’s against the law, Angus. I can’t believe you’re justifying it.’

‘You’ve got it wrong.’

The man laughed. ‘I don’t have to be particularly intelligent to know dodgy when I see it.’

‘No one’s been hurt. I smoothed profits, that’s all. It’s technical.’ His voice was calm and assured, but there was an edge to it.

‘You paid millions under bogus re-insurance contracts so that you could bring the money back onshore in fallow years. All perfectly legit, if ethically unsound. Then you realized that no one had missed the money paid offshore, and you couldn’t resist the temptation to trouser it. I’ve found it, Angus, including the captive insurance company. Christ, you even made sure it was associated with a Swiss bank. All above board? I don’t think so. It’s sleight of hand.’

Then the door closed, and she didn’t hear any more until the front door thudded shut. She sat on the bed, thinking. It was impossible to know, but that could have been Nick Ritchie. Would he have been either courageous or foolish enough to confront Angus in his own home? Possibly.

Five minutes later, when Angus came back upstairs, he was keen for her to leave. It was a little humiliating, but she understood that he had a problem. She tucked the information away in the back of her mind.

You never know, she thought, as she got into the cab, it might come in useful one day.

They only slept together that one time, and that seemed right. He was a wealthy, successful older man; she was a young woman with a tragic past. What they gave each other was balanced, was perfect.

What remained with her was the image of an adult Nick Ritchie at his side, like some kind of dynasty. She couldn’t imagine what Nick looked like now, so she googled him and found a photograph on the Financial Logistics website. He had broadened out; he looked confident and muscular, pleasant. Angus had talked about him a lot and she didn’t like it. The Moodys had been her family friends, not Nick’s. He had insinuated himself in there, and now he was taking what should have been hers and her brothers’. Angus hadn’t offered jobs or mentoring to Rory or Alex, she noticed. He had shown no interest at all in them.

Angus had let fall enough to allow her to stalk Nick online and off and build a picture of his life. It was so much better than hers. He was more than financially secure, he had a beautiful house, a pretty woman at his side, and the look of someone for whom success has come easily.

It was simple enough to find herself a snug little house close to where Nick lived when she sold the flat she and Ben had bought together. It was a probate sale and unmodernized, so she could afford to buy it outright.

There was no problem getting Kai into Cedar Heights either. It was oversubscribed at the bottom, but by Year 6 the classes had thinned out, with families moving out of London. Yes, she had to congratulate herself. She had been stuck in a rut for years, but now she was being proactive; creating an opportunity to have the life she wanted and deserved. If that meant Nick Ritchie suffered, she could live with that.