chapter046
Edie said to Fraser apologetically: ‘Elliot wants to talk to you. He’s in the lobby,’ and Fraser – not unreasonably – looked confused.
‘What’s he out there for?’
‘He wants a word alone, I think,’ Edie said, and Fraser frowned.
‘Always something going on with the troubled diva.’ He grinned, set his drink and his phone down on the tablecloth, and made his way out.
‘What’s up?’ Iggy said.
‘Oh, family politics.’ Edie shrugged.
‘Everyone’s all right, aren’t they? Their parents are OK?’ Molly asked, stricken. ‘It’s not the wedding seating plans, because we can change those? And I did tell Fraser the hot sauce table favours were asking for trouble.’
‘That was my idea!’ Iggy said.
‘It’s not funny if my gran gets one of the Mad Dog Ghost Pepper ones.’
‘If it says Mad Dog on the label you’ve been forewarned.’
‘She might not have her readers on and think it says … Glad Dog!’
Iggy spluttered with delight.
Edie reassured Molly, while thinking her natural assumption was the product of a non-guilty mind.
Molly excused herself to the ladies, and Iggy merrily sloshed out more wine, while Edie decided she needed a soft drink. She wanted to face the fall out better hydrated.
Unable to locate their waitress, Edie stood at the bar and opened her phone. The WhatsApp from Fraser was still on the screen.
She clicked away from it, and as she did so, spotted a tiny detail that snagged her attention. She couldn’t make sense of it. How was he …? She clicked back into WhatsApp and stared. On impulse, she typed a reply and hit send, to see if it would get blue ticks. Grey ticks: delivered, but unread. She looked towards the double doors at the end of the room, the ones that first Elliot, then Fraser, had departed through, and scanned the room.
She carried her Diet Coke back to her seat, turning over a puzzle in her mind. She did a mental inventory of the detritus on their table.
‘Tastes better from a bottle, right?’ Iggy said, and she smiled absently.
Molly returned from the toilets.
Within minutes, both Owen brothers were back, expressions similarly stormy. Edie had never seen Fraser’s sunny countenance contorted like this before, and it made her heart pound.
‘Mol, get your things. We’re off,’ he said.
Edie’s hopes that they’d find a way to unite over this were immediately dashed. She could tell it had gone exactly the way she’d hoped it wouldn’t.
‘Why?’ Molly said. ‘I’ve got a tuna tartare on the way – I don’t want to go.’
‘I’ll explain later. Come on.’
‘Elliot?’ Molly said. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Don’t ask him,’ Fraser snapped, and Edie winced.
She doubted Elliot had held back and, if Fraser had done nothing wrong, how it would’ve been received. And after Fraser’s concern for Elliot’s welfare, too. She could see both sides. This was a fight that could turn into a feud and a rift. Edie looked at Molly, who was deeply disconcerted and obediently gathering her coat.
Edie had to speak up. She’d intended to talk to Elliot about her hunch, but they were out of time.
This might be the only moment where it would help.
‘Iggy, don’t do this,’ Edie said, looking at him.
Everyone stared at her in confusion.
‘Do what?’ Iggy said.
‘Don’t let them fall out over this, if it’s you who’s responsible.’
‘Responsible for what?’
‘Selling stories on Elliot.’
‘Why would I be selling stories on Elliot?’
‘I don’t know why,’ Edie said. ‘But I think you look at Fraser’s phone behind Fraser’s back, so I bet you have the material.’
She nodded towards Fraser’s phone, case side up, lying on the table.
‘What? Do you?’ Fraser said to Iggy.
‘No, I don’t! Why would you make something like that up?’ Iggy said indignantly. ‘Bit bloody rude.’
If she was wrong, not only had Edie slandered Iggy, but she might well be doing serious, lasting damage to her popularity in Owen world. It was a testament to the strength of her bond with Elliot that she’d risk it, based on so little. And it was little; it was virtually nothing.
Edie swallowed. No turning back now.
‘Why d’you think he does?’ Fraser said to Edie.
‘When you and Elliot were talking, and Molly was in the loo, I looked at my phone when I was stood at the bar. It said you were Online on WhatsApp, even though you weren’t with your phone – you left it here. I sent a message to you and as it landed, Iggy looked up, right at me. I think you were checking his messages—’ She addressed Iggy. ‘You must’ve seen it arrive. My guess is you leave those ones in preview, and then Fraser opens them and thinks he’s seeing it first? Obviously, any messages he’s already seen, you can scroll.’
Edie, having unburdened herself, stood feeling foolish. She was no expert on iPhones and hoped to hell there wasn’t a simple explanation for the anomaly, that she hadn’t taken a shit situation and made it even worse, while making an absolute imbecile of herself and traducing Iggy.
Edie waited for someone to quietly correct her understanding of the vagaries of messaging formats owned by tech conglomerates.
‘All right, Jessica Fletcher! I have no idea what you’re on about,’ Iggy said. ‘Jesus Christ, how weird …’ Iggy’s nose was wrinkled in disdain, but his cotton-cloth white skin, curiously, had turned Heinz tomato.
‘Is this true?’ Fraser said to Iggy.
‘No, of course not! Don’t listen to Princess Nut Nuts there,’ Iggy said.
‘Oi, watch your mouth,’ Elliot said. ‘Don’t insult my girlfriend.’
‘You know my passcode,’ Fraser said, thoughts ticking on, clearly willing to at least entertain this possibility.
Edie’s body flooded with a fresh wave of adrenaline. Could she really be right?
‘You’ve had it since we saw The Chemical Brothers last year?’ Fraser said.
‘Seriously, you gave him full access to your phone?’ Elliot said to Fraser.
‘Only to book an Uber!’
‘Did you change your passcode afterwards?’ Elliot said.
‘No, but he was only using it once to book an Uber!’
Elliot pinched the bridge of his nose.
Eyes moved to a hunted Iggy, whose demeanour suggested he might just have done more than book an Uber.
‘When was this gig?’ Elliot asked Fraser.
‘Uh … December? Yeah, definitely – mid-December.’
‘Right before the leaks started, around Christmas,’ Elliot said, looking back at Iggy.
‘Whatever, my dude,’ Iggy said, raising his palms. ‘I have literally no idea what this is about. I’ve only looked at my own phone.’
He put his handset, in shockproof case, on the table.
‘If we looked at your WhatsApps, we’d not find any journalists in them? No tips for them about me? My dude,’ Elliot said.
‘No,’ said Iggy, though he was still scarlet. ‘I’m not showing you my WhatsApps. None of you would want everyone browsing yours, either.’
‘Let’s try this another way: Fraz, have all these stories been things you’ve referred to in your messages? Like Cameron’s song?’ Elliot said.
‘Ehm … I’m not sure? There’s been a few. As you made abundantly clear,’ Fraser said, row still fresh and stinging.
‘Cameron’s song? Do you mean “Last Time”?’ Molly said, in a small voice.
‘Yes,’ Elliot said. ‘The one about …’ He looked over at Edie. The most recent invasion still hurt, too. ‘… Us.’
‘You did discuss that with me on WhatsApp?’ Molly said to Fraser. ‘I sent you a link because I wasn’t sure which song it was?’
‘Oh, OK. There we go,’ Fraser said, looking back at Iggy.
‘How about if we check your photos from their engagement party?’ Elliot said to Iggy. ‘Any shots of me and Edie on that we might recognise?’
‘If it was him, he’d have deleted them?’ Fraser said. ‘He’s not stupid.’
Elliot smiled broadly. ‘Yes, absolutely. Only a reckless dickhead, a dickhead who hadn’t taken them in the first place of course, would forget to delete the evidence. With that firmly in mind, Iggy, can we have a quick look at your camera roll from that night? Put our minds at rest, clear your name.’
‘No, you can’t! It’s my private data! I’m not letting The Bottom Inspectors here browse my Tinder photos. I’ve got spice for the ladies on it. And in return.’
‘You don’t put sensitive stuff in your Hidden album?’ Elliot said. ‘You risk your mum getting an eyeful of pubes when she’s looking at your new kitchen?’
Iggy shrugged. ‘I mean sometimes, not always. I’m not sure enough to let you into it.’
‘Hmm. All right, how about I check your contacts against the bylines on the stories about me?’
‘Again, who’s going to be stupid enough to put journalists in under their own names?’ Fraser said.
‘Who indeed?’ Elliot said, extending his hand. ‘Quick look, please? Surely you’re not going to say your phone book is violently private?’
Iggy’s eyes moved from side to side, hand resting protectively over his mobile.
Edie hadn’t fully trusted her own intuition until now. Iggy’s furtive manner said maybe she should have.
‘Is that a no, you won’t show us?’ Elliot said.
‘I don’t get it, if there’s nothing on your phone then let Elliot check …?’ Fraser started.
‘He’ll get into it for one thing and start looking at all sorts!’ Iggy said.
‘I won’t let him,’ Fraser said. ‘Only your phone book. I’m on your side, Ig. There’s no way you talk to journa—’
‘I’M SORRY!’ Iggy wailed, shocking them all into stillness. ‘I’m so fucked – they’re going to take the flat! I hate myself! I’m sorry, Elliot.’
He put his head down on the table.
It was like a police drama when the suspect finally breaks under interrogation and admits they were the killer, detectives holding their breath while the tape spools forward to record the confession.