Chapter 31 #2
‘You know I wouldn’t take you there if it wasn’t an emergency,’ Jem reasoned. ‘I can’t drive you all the way home with one headlight and I’m not just going to leave you here alone to wait for a taxi.’
His reasoning made perfect sense, but still she stalled, glancing back at the taverna. The staff were closing, stacking chairs and switching off lights. As much as she was worried about bumping into Sue and Ian, she didn’t want to wait here in the dark either.
‘It will be five minutes, I promise.’
Poppy forced a smile. ‘Okay.’
They drove mostly in silence, Jem taking it steady, guided by just the one headlight, and her stomach churned as he turned off the main road, the cluster of villas visible in the distance.
It immediately brought back unwelcome memories.
Being in Ian’s car, everything that had happened in the Pritchards’ house, then how she had fled along the track in the dark, desperate to get away from them.
She spotted their villa immediately. It was the only one glowing warmly against the night. Did that mean they were still up? Poppy clenched her hands into fists and willed her breath to steady, her heartbeat to slow.
‘You can come inside and wait if you like.’
‘Okay. Thank you.’
Although Jem’s place was shrouded in darkness and he quickly killed the engine, every sound as they exited the car was too loud in the silence. The closing of the doors, the crunch of gravel underfoot, the jingle of keys in the lock.
Poppy watched the neighbouring villa like a hawk for any sign of movement, but there was none. As Jem moved aside to let her go in first, she quickly stepped into the hallway, the knot inside her loosening as he closed the door behind them.
‘Sorry about the mess,’ he apologised, flipping on the light. Boxes were piled high in every direction. ‘I’m still sorting through everything.’
‘It’s fine,’ she told him. ‘I can’t imagine how much work this has all been for you.’
He gave her a tight smile. ‘Just a bit. Look, I’ll just be a couple of minutes, okay. Make yourself at home. Living room and kitchen are straight ahead.’
The villa was less polished than Tom’s and more tasteful than Sue and Ian’s.
Despite the clutter of boxes, the place had a warm and homey appeal.
It was simply furnished but seemed loved.
A box of picture frames on the floor in the living room drew her attention.
She could see that the photos on top featured a small boy with curly hair.
Jem, she guessed. It must have been difficult for him having to go through all of his dad’s things, especially given their estranged relationship.
There was a small dining table in the room, covered in books, and she wandered over, browsing through the titles.
Jem’s dad seemed to have been a prolific reader, his tastes veering from thriller to horror, and spy to history.
She recognised big names such as John le Carré, Ian Rankin, Stephen King and Ken Follett, but among those were worn paperbacks from authors she had never heard of.
She stopped dead, recognising one cover. The familiar Roman Killian character design jumping out at her and the author’s name in bold yellow letter at the top of the cover.
Simon Daley.
Jem’s dad owned one of Simon’s books.
Just holding it in her hand was enough to bring the rush of humiliation back at how Simon had tried to destroy her. Her face hot and nausea curdling in her stomach.
She put the book down, careful to bury Simon’s underneath the bigger names, but even though she could no longer see it, she could feel the stain from where she’d touched it.
Wandering through into the functional kitchen, she washed her hands at the sink, drying them on a tea towel. On the counter sat a stack of paperwork. Most of it looked like legal documents.
There was no intention to pry. She just happened to glance at the top sheet and it was there in plain sight. A typed invoice to Jem. His name and address at the top.
Jeremiah Daley
14 Pine Drive
Salcombe
Devon
Poppy double blinked, realising he had never told her his last name. There had been no need. She had never told him hers either.
Jeremiah Daley. Simon Daley. It wasn’t a rare surname. Not unusual enough to mean anything. And Devon. Plenty of people lived in Devon. That didn’t prove anything either.
Still, she found herself looking at the name again.
Was it possible they were related?
No, that would be too big a coincidence.
A little nagging voice in the back of her head pushed forward the question. What if it was deliberate?
Her thinking was bordering on irrational, deep down she was certain it was, still it didn’t stop her joining dots. Things moving in the villa, the sense of someone outside late at night. The cameras.
She had blamed Martin, but did she have it wrong?
The thought came uninvited and was uncomfortable enough that she almost pushed it away as soon as it surfaced. It didn’t make sense. None of it did.
For starters, how would Jem even get access to the villa? And it was really stretching things trying to link her meeting him in Crete with what had been going on back home.
No, it was ridiculous.
She was still staring at the name when his voice came from behind her. Too close.
‘All ready to go?’
Poppy jumped, swinging around.
‘Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
He went to reach out and touch her arm, but she flinched back.
Steady, Poppy. You can’t let on you know.
She hadn’t meant to react like that.
And anyway, what was she supposed to know? She was jumping to conclusions. Their first meeting at the mini-market had been random.
Unless he had been following her. Looking for the right opportunity to orchestrate a meeting.
She managed a shaky smile. ‘I’m fine. Is the bulb fixed?’
‘Yeah, it’s all good.’
Poppy followed him out of the villa, conscious that she had to act normal and just get through the ride back to Tom’s place.
She was almost to the car when a door opened.
‘Jeremiah? I said to Ian I thought I heard—’
Poppy froze, recognising Sue’s shrill voice.
‘Poppy?’
Crap! This was awkward.
Poppy exchanged a quick glance with Jem, before forcing herself to turn round.
Sue stood on her doorstep, silk dressing gown and fluffy slippers on and a sleep mask pushed up onto her forehead. Thankfully, she made no attempt to come closer and her look of surprise quickly turned to one of distaste. As if Poppy was something she’d just found on the bottom of her shoe.
Unsure how to react or how to respond, Poppy awkwardly raised her hand in greeting. ‘Hi, Sue.’
Her face was on fire, her heart thumping hard in her chest. She felt like she was in an alternate universe, no longer sure where the danger would come from next.
All she knew was she had to get back to Tom’s villa.
Away from Sue and Ian. Away from Jem. Ironically, the place that had felt most hostile since her arrival in Crete was now going to be her sanctuary.
An uncomfortable silence followed and she was debating whether to just get in Jem’s car.
Before she had the chance, Sue made the decision for her.
‘I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, Jeremiah,’ she said stiffly, now looking past Poppy as if she wasn’t even there.
With that, she disappeared back inside her villa, the door shutting firmly behind her.
Poppy took that as her cue, getting into the passenger seat.
‘Well, that was awkward,’ she said, as soon as Jem was in the car.
‘Just a little. Sorry about that. I really thought they would be asleep.’
‘It’s okay. Not your fault.’
Briefly, things seemed normal between them, but then Jem reached across the gearstick, placing his warm hand over Poppy’s and squeezing gently, and that was when the moment was broken for her, as she remembered the paperwork she had seen inside his dad’s villa.
She wanted to pull her hand back, but she didn’t. She had to keep up with this charade until she was back at Tom’s villa.
The drive back was quiet. Jem spoke a few times and Poppy did her best to respond normally, not wanting to alert his suspicions, but mostly she focused on the dark glass of the passenger window.
When he pulled up outside the villa, he shut off the engine.
‘You all right?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine.’
He studied her for a moment, a frown on his face. ‘You don’t seem it. Was it seeing Sue?’
‘It was uncomfortable,’ she admitted, ‘But I won’t have to see her again. I’m just tired, is all.’
Jem seemed to accept her excuse. He insisted on walking her to the front door, and the fact she was leaving in a few days hung between them.
‘I’ll see you before you go,’ he told her, reaching out to brush a strand of hair back behind her ear.
It was an intimate gesture, much the same as how things had ended after their last dinner, and for a moment Poppy worried he was going to make a move.
But he didn’t, stepping away, a half-smile on his face, before he turned and headed back to the car.
She watched him go, suspecting he knew as well as she did that she had no intention of seeing him again. She couldn’t, not now when there were so many questions surrounding him.
Inside the villa, she flipped on the light, trying to make the place look more welcoming, then she closed and locked the door, leaning her back against it.
Jem’s handsome face remained in her mind, as she thought back over the time they had spent together, but this time she wasn’t reminiscing. Instead, she was questioning every moment.
For the first time since they’d met, she realised she didn’t know him at all.