Chapter 18
18
‘Hi …?’ Connor said, hesitantly, as he drew level, removing the glasses.
‘Hi yourself!’ Bel said, in a voice that implied this was funny, in a way they both understood.
She could see him taking in her hair, make-up, the violet sundress with gold platform sandals, the whole ‘not working from home, in fact, pavement boozing’ vibe, while not looking at all like Bel Macauley . Dissonant cues everywhere, confusion jangling like wind chimes. His knitted brow said: was Bel some sort of grifting sociopath, using the ‘Investigations Editor’ title to get ratted on the newspaper dime?
She had to leap, or it was game over.
‘Amber. This is Connor. My boyfriend,’ she said, looking directly at him, enunciating clearly and confidently. She injected a note of shy girlish pride, inhabiting the role of A Woman Head Over Her Esska Heels: undoubtedly her most skilful acting yet.
Connor, understandably, stared at her in alarm, wondering if he’d misheard. Yet crucially, in the moments that followed, he made no response. Mute stupefaction was desirable– Bel could work with silence until Connor, she hoped against hope, caught up. It was a coin flip: surely he’d take some self-righteous pleasure in making her look ridiculous. She was at his mercy, and she didn’t fancy his stocks of mercy were high.
‘Pleased to meet you, Connor,’ Amber said. ‘I’m Bella’s new BFF. Laurent Perrier introduced us, hahahaha.’
‘I was hot desking in there,’ Bel nodded into the bar, ‘and got into a major Bridezilla spat with Shilpa about her hen do on FaceTime, tell you later,’ Bel said, with a theatrical eyeroll, ‘and I needed a drink. This absolute babe has bought me bubbles to cheer me up.’ She paused. ‘What are you doing here?’
Her palms were now slick with sweat. Ironically, it was a question she’d like answered, just absolutely not right now. Connor hadn’t been in the office this morning; she’d assumed he’d been sent out in the field.
‘Checking out Didsbury House Hotel for my brother’s imminent visit. He likes eyes on his options. I’ve got a day off in lieu today …’ Connor hesitated. ‘Remember?’
‘Oh, of course!’ Bel said. ‘Looking forward to meeting him.’
There was a tense beat where Bel realised the blindsided Connor couldn’t risk saying anything else without knowing the terms of her batshit fiction.
‘How long have you two been together?’ said Amber, curiously.
Bel quietly panicked that whether consciously or not, Amber was registering it was quite odd for a couple not to share notes on their whereabouts. If it didn’t bother her now, it might do later. It was too soon for unusual things to start happening. Bel had to bluster with enough force that it was forgotten.
‘Erm …’ Bel contorted her face, as if trying to do genuine calculations. ‘Where are we now, June? That’s eight months, give or take? We met at a Halloween party in London. What a night that was, Con.’
She let go a goofy, dirty laugh, in her Bella mode. Con. Well, quite.
‘Aww. Was it love at first sight?’ Amber said, looking to Bel and then to Connor.
‘Erm …’ he said, with a look of consternation. Was he going to give up? Sorry, I’ve missed a page here …
‘Difficult to say, thanks to the fancy dress,’ Connor said, after a throat clearing. ‘Harley Quinn costume. I was glad to find out the hair was a wig.’
She had another rush of adrenaline, this time in relief flavour.
‘I went all in,’ Bel agreed.
‘Remind me what Harley Quinn looks like again?’ Amber said.
Oh, fuck. Bel couldn’t remember at all. Was she in a superhero movie? Supervillain?
She opened her mouth and nothing came out.
‘Fishnets, bunches, hotpants and a baseball bat,’ Connor supplied. ‘Reflective of Bel’s complicated nature.’
Bel gave silent thanks to him, and that she’d gone for a spin on her forename as her alter ego.
‘Love it,’ Amber drawled, dragging on her vape pen and giving Connor an appraising, appreciative look. ‘What did you go as?’
‘Gomez Addams,’ Bel said, hastily, returning the favour.
‘Moustache, pinstripe suit,’ Amber said. Her eyes ran up and down him and Bel had to concede, his being superficially appealing was a useful distraction right now. ‘Want to join us, Connor?’
Bel opened her mouth, but Connor was there first:
‘I’d love to, but apologies for not stopping, I’ve got a to-do list as long as my arm. Nice to meet you, Amber. See you later,’ he addressed his Not Girlfriend. He paused. ‘Call me if you need picking up?’
Bel was, for now, brokenly grateful.
‘Sure. See you later, darling!’ Bel trilled, trying to keep the tense relief out of her voice.
‘Well, well done you ,’ Amber said, as Connor cleared earshot range, and Bel’s heart rate started slowing. ‘He’s gorgeous. Where did you find him?’
‘Soho. Liked it, clubbed it over the head and dragged it back north,’ Bel said, as Amber gurgled.
‘He left his job?’ Amber said.
‘No, they let him move to remote, like me. He’s in finance.’ Bel waved her hand, ‘ Please don’t ask me what he does, exactly.’
‘I’ll never put you on that spot,’ Amber said. ‘When we’ve finished the bottle, I might make you tell me what he’s like in’– she cupped both hands round mouth to whisper– ‘ bed , though.’
‘Oh, he’s an earthquake,’ Bel said, with a knowing look. ‘Never had better.’
Amber made an Oh My God swoon face. Bel smiled, sipped her flute and thought she’d be lucky to keep her lunch down.
‘You run this place? That’s so impressive, aren’t you twenty-something?’ Bel said, brightly changing the topic.
‘Thirty-five this month! I own it, but don’t admire me, I’m a rich kid. My family ran it first and my mum passed it on to me.’ She pushed a charm bracelet up and down her wrist, a distracted tic.
If Bel had thought Amber was any sort of soft touch, un-smart bimbo, an hour in her company had corrected that notion.
They talked Ci Vediamo, Amber’s career history, Bel’s concocted CV, which was in fact Shilpa’s: a first at Manchester Met in Fine Art.
With Bel making sure she was at turns effortful, interested, funny, sympathetic, and Amber insisting they moved on to pina coladas, the sense of spark was assured.
‘This has been so great, I can’t thank you enough,’ Bel said, when they decided it was time for Amber to check on her staff and Bel to find a carbohydrate.
Amber clutched her arm.
‘Bella, you know what, you should come to my thirty-fifth, two weeks tomorrow! It’s only here, private party. Boring, I know, but I can keep it open as late as I like and I can’t bear paying the mark-ups at other people’s. It’s why I’m queen of the lock-in– I know how hard I’m being ripped off everywhere else, lol. Why don’t you come? Bring Connor? It’d be so nice to see different faces.’
‘That would be amazing, if you’re sure?’ Bel said, gesturing at the empties on the table. ‘I feel like I’ve totally taken the piss out of your hospitality as it is?’
‘Don’t be a dick, it’s my job. Give me your number … Do you have NameDrop? Put your phone next to mine, look, it’s magic …’
In the second moment of blind panic during their encounter, Bel realised she had no idea if this would show her WhatsApp contact details as Bel Macauley.
‘Oh, I had a security wig out and toggled that off,’ she blathered, ‘What’s your number?’
She tapped it at speed into her contacts, and text-pinged back BELLA 3
‘Texts! Old school!’ Amber said. ‘Got ya. So good to meet you …’
Mercifully, at that moment, Leo the waiter was at their side asking Amber to come referee someone querying their bill.
As soon as she was in the taxi home, Bel hurriedly scrolled to her WhatsApp. It was only showing as ‘Bel’ but she changed her name to Bella anyway.
She saw her ghostly reflection in the taxi window and asked herself why she was scowling.
Befriending Amber Kendrick was, on the face of it, a raving success. It was just such a shame she’d pulled a Joker at the last minute. Actually no, not a Joker– the odds of that were far greater than what had happened to her. Two of them in a fifty-four card deck.
A day in lieu. Had he followed her? No. That was paranoia, and when he saw her, it was like he’d caught her naked.
She was scowling because, firstly, Connor Adams was now going to have to be persuaded to become part of her undercover identity, passionately against both of their wishes.
And, secondly, because she had a resentful feeling that Connor’s unwanted appearance had clinched the deal.
She Googled ‘Harley Quinn.’ The Joker’s lover in Arkham Asylum. FFS.
As the Uber engine idled in mid-evening traffic, Bel looked at the phone in her hand again and noticed she had an unread WhatsApp.
Connor
Hi, are you OK? That felt like possibly some variant of an Ask For Amy? I wasn’t sure if leaving you was the right thing to do but you have my number :/
Of course, and he had her number, a first day formality. His profile picture showed him smiling, hair tousled, he looked totally different.
Bel conceded this was a more considerate first round of feedback than she’d anticipated. She’d vaguely wondered if he’d be utterly indignant, trapped into a flurry of lies, masculine pride affronted at being publicly claimed by a woman of lesser physical beauty than his own.
Bel
SORRY, and thank you so much for not blowing my cover. The explanation for it will need to be in person. Please not a word to anyone about this, especially Aaron.
Connor
Deal. I mean, we are end-to-end encrypted here …
Bel
Not as encrypted as our ends would be in the great outdoors. I don’t suppose you’re free at the weekend?