Chapter 35
35
Bel
MORNING (sorry, feels odd to message)– our guests left at dawn, Amber’s texted me, will fill you in shortly. I’m making breakfast for whenever you’re ready but you’re off-duty regards The Double Act. Feel free to have a shower if you want one.
Towels in there too. Just don’t nick my Springsteen tee, I saw you coveting it. Bx
Connor rubbed the sleep from his eyes and reread Bel’s words. He could smell frying bacon and hear music downstairs. He was embarrassed to discover he’d slept through Bel waking and getting up, and not only that, he’d kicked the sheet off in the post-thunderstorm heat, lying face down in his pants.
Oh well. If ever there was a bed partner who’d decline to ogle his arse, it was Bel Macauley.
He pondered that he found her infinitely easier to deal with when they dropped the pretence: not with company, but with each other. She had unexpectedly clung to him in their mutual terror last night, the soft squish of her breasts pressed hard against his rib cage and the dark rum perfume-smell of her hair in his mouth and nose again. Connor had been completely disarmed by her vulnerability and stroked her hair in nervous auto response, as if they really were seeing each other. He’d had time to notice she was wearing a bra, and the modesty of it was unexpected. He’d thought of Bel as confident to the point of careless. Maybe the underwear was about finding him deeply off-putting– the bed share was pretty agonising.
When it became clear that the threat was simply an incontinent pug dog gone rogue, he and Bel had nearly sobbed with relief. Connor was disturbed to discover his survival energies didn’t exactly dissipate but converted into a briefly powerful urge to further reassure Bel with his presence. He even kidded himself there was half a minute where she felt the same, that if he’d crushed his mouth against hers and started feverishly unbuttoning the silly pyjamas, she’d have let him. Bel would have been utterly revolted if she knew– and frankly, Connor was too. Apart from anything else, he was supposed to be trustworthy.
Why couldn’t his libido behave normally? Had the slow death with Jen messed him up? He was no longer able to fancy a nice, appropriate woman who liked him back, he instead yearned for an emotions-free hookup with a spiky adversary who’d punish him for his weakness.
It was embarrassing to stifle the surge of unwanted lust and had probably made him a little more caustic than necessary after they disentwined. Though she did restart the jibes about him being coldly careerist, which was pretty galling when he’d been ready to do anything to protect her.
When Bel whispered in the dark about how sincerely grateful she was to him Connor had opened his mouth to reply and then, as the seconds ticked by, he couldn’t find the words or the pitch. Any response was either too flippant or too loving and it was easier to pretend to be asleep.
He decided to enjoy the superior facilities given he’d had no choice to be here. He stood for a cleansing five minutes under hot water in the rainfall shower in her en suite. Connor didn’t lock the door on the basis Bel knew he was here and would rather permanently lose her eyesight than expose herself to a full-frontal, yet it still felt like alien behaviour.
Connor appeared down in the kitchen in last night’s clothes, with damp hair.
Bel, hair in a top knot and hoodie over her pyjamas, face flushed from proximity to the grill, slid a coffee towards him.
‘I didn’t know your preferences so I’ve made both brown and white toast. The sandwich is a bespoke self-assembly job.’
She set down plates of food in front of him, HP brown sauce, ketchup and a butter dish, handing Connor a fork so he could spear the rashers himself. She’d cooked them properly: the fat was copper-coloured, not burned. Connor thanked her and inwardly conceded, without saying as much, that Bel might be a nice friend. Her acquiring Shilpa made more sense, if Shilpa liked brunch.
As Connor buttered wholemeal toast, Bel read from her handset, out loud: ‘ Morning Bella, the monster (Rick, not Gertie) awoke at 6 and we’ve decided to get ourselves gone– so embarrassed, I’m so sorry. Let me know how we can make it up to you, assuming you ever want to see us again. Rick is blaming the ‘boozy raisins’ hahahahaha. He looked like a boozy raisin more like. And sorry to Connor too … ’ Bel trailed off and glanced up.
‘She says more about you, but I’m not sure I can bear sharing it.’
‘I deserve to know, information is power,’ Connor said, smiling, as the brown sauce fart-squirted as he squeezed the bottle.
Bel sighed.
I’m sure you know this, but Connor is such a catch, he has a personality as nice as his looks. The way …
Bel cleared her throat. Connor saw a new flush appear on her neck, and he started regretting forcing the disclosure.
… the way he looks at you, like you’re magnetic to each other, is so sexy. Just flagging you can never break up and destroy my faith in love.
Connor blinked as he absorbed the idea he was looking at Bel in any particular way.
‘Top marks on the acting. Take a bow, the real Larry Olivier,’ Bel said, stiffly.
Connor was surprised to see Bel was discomfited. He’d have expected her to shrug this off with a derogatory joke, and the fact she didn’t made him worry he was gazing at her. Connor flashbacked to last night’s clinch and thought, oh no, did Bel pick up on anything untoward there? The idea he had a thing for Bel was sodding ridiculous and both Bel and his penis needed to be clear on that.
‘It’s very much a joint effort,’ Connor said, with a forced lightness, making a start on his sandwich. Bel got kitchen roll from the cupboard and passed it over.
‘I’ve said we’d love to go to a Cee Vee lock-in. It’s time to try to put ourselves near the iPad.’
Connor nodded, mouth full.
‘Work wise, regards the investigation, to recap. We’ve had corroboration of Glenn Bailey’s reputation and the rumours from Aaron,’ Bel continued. ‘We’ve heard direct from Amber that the Airbnb in Didsbury is Gloria’s property, and a den of ill repute. It feels as if the story’s coming together. Now all we need to do is prove one of the visiting shaggers is Bailey.’
‘Ah, the small matter of the iPad breaking. I think robbing a bank vault in a Ronald Reagan mask would be easier.’
‘Yup. We’re going to need a strategy. It might be worth us finding an excuse for you to get out of the office to attend a meeting next week with Toby?’ Bel said.
‘Sure,’ Connor said. ‘I dread having my stupid face on that screen somewhat. I know it was, uh, happenstance, but I still feel a huge div for having ambled into your story.’
‘Oh,’ Bel blinked: ‘I never told Toby that, actually.’
‘What? Really?’ Connor said, pausing mid bite, ‘Why does he think I’m involved then?’
‘I told him I thought the undercover sting would work better as a couple, and that I’d witnessed how conscientious, willing and methodical you are. I requested to have you come in on it with me.’
Connor was slightly stunned.
‘Why did you do me that big a favour?’
Bel folded grease-coated tinfoil into the bin, stamping the pedal to open its lid.
‘You were doing me one– and, in general, I think colleagues should boost each other. A rising tide lifts all boats, as they say.’
‘Right. Thank you,’ Connor said. ‘What would you have done if he’d said no?’
Bel gave a small smile. ‘I know you’re conscientious and methodical, and I can learn from that. In turn can I introduce you to the “calculated risk”? Also, I thought it was probably better not to confess to a fuck-up, straight out of the traps.’
Connor smiled back and sipped his coffee, thinking that the risk of Toby saying no to Bel Macauley was lower than that of a mere mortal.
It in no way diminished the impressive gracefulness of what he’d just learned. It wasn’t only that Bel had been so helpful to him. She’d done it without letting him know, so not making him feel indebted or collecting the brownie points.
He finally accepted that he had underestimated Bel Macauley.
‘Wait. You knew you’d done me this good turn when I was insulting you about how you were going to make me look stupid for the phone screen mistake at Amber’s party?’
‘Oh? Yes.’
‘I was a huffy manchild,’ Connor said. ‘While you were too dignified to put me in my place. Sobering.’
‘Now you know how I feel when Amber’s gushing about how you’re …’ Bel did air quotes, though her hands were now in oven mitts: ‘ the most good-looking man she’s ever seen.’
‘Did she say that?!’
Bel paused the exact amount of time to elicit the biggest possible laugh: ‘No.’