Chapter Twenty-Two
Aster woke with a start, her hand instinctively reaching for her phone on the bedside table. She’d never been one for sleeping with her phone nearby, valuing her privacy and peace of mind above all else. There was a time, not so long ago, when she’d revelled in the freedom of disconnecting from the world, of leaving behind the constant buzz and chime of notifications.
She remembered that trip vividly, a solo trek through the lush, mist-shrouded mountains of Kyrgyzstan. For two glorious weeks, she’d switched off her phone, deleted her social media apps, and simply lived in the moment. She’d woken each morning to the soft trilling of exotic birds, spent her days hiking ancient trails and her nights marvelling at the brilliance of stars untouched by light pollution. It had been a revelation, a glimpse of a simpler, more profound way of being.
But then, upon her return, reality had come crashing down. Nick, her unflappable, always-in-control sister, was in the midst of a crisis. Her company was on the brink of bankruptcy, targeted by a malicious campaign of sabotage and slander. And where had Aster been? Off finding herself in the mountains, blissfully unaware whilst her family needed her.
The guilt had been overwhelming, a lead weight in her gut. Never again, she’d vowed. Never again would she prioritise her own desires over the needs of those she loved. Now, her phone was always within arm’s reach, a constant tether to her family and their wellbeing.
Blinking away the remnants of sleep, Aster squinted at the screen. A text from Jimmy caught her eye, urging her to check her social media. Opening up her apps, her eyes widened. Her feeds were in a frenzy, her video going viral in a big way.
Marcus Barrie’s name was everywhere, plastered across posts and comments, tagged in shares and reposts. The court of public opinion had clearly found him guilty, and they were baying for blood. Aster felt a grim sense of satisfaction. The bastard was finally getting what he deserved.
As she scrolled further, another piece of news caught her attention. Badgers, along with three other clubs implicated in the video, had posted statements claiming they were currently closed until further notice. No further details were forthcoming. Had Edward been part of that? He said he owned the premises and he was aware of the video.
Aster sat back against her pillows, her mind whirling. The progress was heartening, a sign that her efforts were paying off. But her satisfaction was tinged with anxiety as she remembered her upcoming appointment with Edward at noon.
She thought of his revelation that he owned the property that housed Whistles, of the hurt and betrayal she’d felt at the realisation. A part of her dreaded facing him again, of reopening those raw wounds. But another part, the part that remembered his kindness, his protection that night, knew she needed answers. Needed closure. Glancing at the clock, Aster saw she had a few hours yet before she had to confront that particular demon. Enough time to savour her victory with the video, to revel in the knowledge that she’d helped bring a predator to justice.
She swung her legs out of bed, padding towards the bathroom. As she went through her morning ablutions, her mind continued to churn. The social media storm, the club closures, it was all a step in the right direction. But Aster knew it was only the beginning. Until those women got justice and Marcus Barrie was in jail, she wouldn’t be satisfied.
Happy that she had got the ball rolling, she logged into the TikTok account she had created to launch the video and deleted it. She had created it using the free library internet, so the IP wasn’t traceable and she’d faked a library card, so even that couldn’t be traced back to her. Now that the video was viral, she could remove all traces of the original post. She knew that would add more intrigue to the story - who was the original poster? - but that couldn’t be helped. She didn’t want to be part of the story. Every other girl featured had agreed and she hoped that today would be the first step towards justice. She knew the police were unlikely to take action if no one came forwards, but she hoped that with the evidence she had compiled someone would feel confident enough that the system would support them.
Decisively, she silenced her phone and set it aside. She had research to do, logistics to arrange. Pulling out her laptop, she lost herself in the task, poring over travel advisories, weather forecasts, and cultural guides. The hours slipped by, the outside world fading away as she immersed herself in the intricacies of her impending journey.
It wasn’t until her alarm chimed, jolting her out of her concentration, that Aster realised how much time had passed. She glanced at the clock and gulped. 11:30 AM. Half an hour until her meeting with Edward.
A sudden wave of nerves washed over her, her stomach twisting into knots. She’d been so focused on her trip, on the mystery of the muslin, that she’d almost forgotten about this other looming confrontation.
Shaking her head, Aster snapped her laptop shut and rose to her feet. She wouldn’t let fear rule her, she faced challenges head-on, no matter how daunting.
The address Edward had given her was burning a hole in her pocket. Portman House, Portman Lane. Less than a mile away. She left the house before she could talk herself out of it. As she walked, a nagging sense of familiarity tugged at her. These streets, these buildings - she’d been here before. It wasn’t until she turned onto Portman Lane that it hit her. She and Paddy, they’d walked this very route, that day they’d scoured Mayfair for any trace of her lost memories. But even then, even retracing her steps, Portman House had rung no bells. The revelation sent a chill down her spine.
As Aster approached the imposing facade of Portman House, she spotted an unexpected sight that stopped her dead in her tracks. There, sitting on the front steps, was Edward, a flask and a picnic basket by his side.
He looked up, catching sight of her, and a warm smile spread across his face. He raised a hand in greeting as Aster slowly approached, her confusion and nerves momentarily forgotten in the face of this bizarre scene.
‘Aster,’ he called out. ‘I thought you might be more comfortable sitting outside. It’s such a lovely day.’
She blinked, taken aback by his thoughtfulness. But then her gaze flicked to the surrounding houses, the immaculate facades and perfectly manicured gardens. This was Mayfair, one of the most affluent areas in London. What would the neighbours think, seeing them picnicking on the front steps like a couple of bohemians?
‘Edward, I’m not sure this is a good idea,’ she began, her voice low. ‘People might talk.’
But Edward just shrugged, his smile never wavering. ‘Let them. I don’t give two figs what they think. You’re more important.’
Aster felt a flush creep up her neck. It was a kind gesture, a considerate one. But the idea of being the centre of attention, of curious eyes and wagging tongues, made her skin crawl.
‘I appreciate the thought,’ she said, choosing her words carefully. ‘But I think I’d be more comfortable inside, away from prying eyes. If that’s alright with you.’
Edward’s eyes softened, understanding dawning in their blue depths. ‘Of course. Whatever makes you comfortable, Aster. That’s all I want.’
He stood, gathering up the picnic accoutrements, and gestured for her to precede him into the house. Aster climbed the steps, her pulse thumping and crossed the threshold into the cool dimness of the entryway. She hesitated and waited for a sense of dread or recollection, but she felt nothing. The hall was familiar, but only because she’d seen it on the USB stick. There was nothing else.
She heard the door click shut behind her, heard Edward’s footsteps on the hardwood floor. This was it. No more delaying, no more distractions. It was time to face her demons, to uncover the truth of that lost night.
‘Cup of tea?’
Aster nodded but couldn’t summon a smile.
Edward led Aster into a spacious, well-appointed kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating the gleaming marble countertops and high-end appliances. As Edward filled the kettle and set it to boil, Aster found herself drawn to the view outside.
The kitchen overlooked a stunning, meticulously landscaped garden that wouldn’t have looked out of place at the Chelsea Flower Show. Soft drifts of planting in varying shades of green, purple, and white created a soothing, almost dreamlike atmosphere. Water features were artfully placed throughout, their gentle bubbling and splashing adding to the tranquil ambiance.
A winding gravel path meandered through the garden, inviting visitors to explore the different areas. Aster could make out a secluded seating area nestled beneath a pergola draped in fragrant wisteria, its delicate lavender blossoms swaying in the breeze. The garden was a masterpiece of design, each element carefully chosen and placed to create a harmonious whole. It was the sort of space that Ariana would approve of.
Aster watched as a pair of butterflies danced among the blooms, their delicate wings catching the sunlight. The scene was so idyllic, so removed from the turmoil of the past few days, that for a moment she almost forgot why she was here.
The whistle of the kettle jolted her back to the present. She turned to find Edward watching her, a small smile playing about his lips. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ he said, nodding towards the garden. ‘It’s my little slice of paradise in the city.’
Aster nodded, suddenly feeling awkward. The domesticity of the scene, the casual intimacy of being in Edward’s home, was throwing her off balance. She needed to focus, to remember why she’d come.
‘Edward,’ she began, as he poured the boiling water into a teapot. ‘About last night, at the club. The way you acted towards Jimmy… it wasn’t right.’
Edward stilled, his hand hovering over the teacups. For a moment, Aster thought he might argue. But then he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. ‘You’re right. I overreacted. I was having a bad day, and then I saw you with a strange man and I just… I was worried. After what happened to you, I couldn’t bear the thought of history repeating itself.’
Aster softened slightly at the genuine concern in his voice. But she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. ‘I appreciate your concern, Edward. But Jimmy is a friend. A good one. He deserves an apology.’
Edward met her gaze, his blue eyes sincere. ‘You’re right. I’ll make it right with him, I promise.’
Aster nodded, satisfied for now. She watched as Edward poured the tea, the familiar ritual soothing her frayed nerves. As he handed her a steaming cup, she remembered the news she’d read that morning.
‘I saw several clubs have been shut down,’ she said, blowing gently on her tea. ‘In the wake of the video going viral.’
Edward’s jaw tightened, a flicker of anger passing over his face. ‘Yes. I visited all the properties I own that were featured in that video. I cancelled their leases on the spot. I was livid, Aster. They’d all denied having security footage, had covered up these crimes. It was unforgivable. I’ve forwarded all their details to the authorities. The police will be able to formally request those video files.’
Aster scoffed, a bitter edge to her voice. ‘The police? They’ll probably just file it away and forget about it. They’ve never been particularly helpful or proactive in cases like these.’
Edward sighed, understanding her frustration. ‘I know it feels that way, Aster. The system is far from perfect. But we have to try. We have to use every avenue available to us.’
He leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees. ‘Look, some forms of justice can be swift. Like cancelling leases, cutting ties with those who enable this behaviour. Or posting videos that expose the truth, that rally public outrage. We’ve seen the power of that in just the last twenty-four hours.’
Aster nodded, acknowledging the point. The video had indeed sparked a swift and fierce reaction, a groundswell of anger that couldn’t be ignored.
‘But other forms of justice,’ Edward continued, ‘they take time. They require due process, evidence, a chance for the accused to defend themselves. It’s slow and it’s frustrating, but it’s necessary. For true, lasting change.’
Aster sat back, she knew he was right. Vigilante justice, satisfying as it might feel in the moment, wasn’t always a long-term solution. They needed the weight of the law behind them, the legitimacy of the courts. But she was surprised by his relaxed attitude towards people taking the law into their own hands. But then, she had often noticed that those with the most wealth and power thought the law didn’t apply to them.
Edward leant back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. ‘You know, whilst some things need to go through legal channels, there are other, more indirect routes that can certainly get the ball rolling.’
Aster raised an eyebrow, curious. ‘What do you mean?’
A small smile played at the corners of Edward’s lips. ‘I noticed you took your video down. The one exposing Marcus Barrie.’
Aster’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression carefully neutral. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Edward’s smile widened, a knowing glint in his eye. ‘Don’t you? It’s okay, Aster. I put it together last night. Only someone involved in the spiking incidents could have compiled that footage. But they’d need to be ruthless, determined, clever… and with a scant regard for the law.’
He paused, holding her gaze. ‘And then I thought, I’ve recently met someone just like that. Someone who orchestrated that brilliant deception at the auction.’
Aster sat in bemused silence, her mind racing. How had he figured it out? She’d been so careful, so meticulous in covering her tracks.
As if reading her thoughts, Edward chuckled softly. ‘Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. In fact, I’m in awe of what you’ve accomplished. The risks you’ve taken to bring that man to justice.’
Aster finished her tea and stood, her expression frosty. ‘I appreciate the compliment, Edward. But I really don’t know what you’re talking about.’
She moved towards the front door, her steps measured and deliberate. Edward followed.
At the threshold, Aster paused, turning to face him. ‘Thank you for giving me your address. It’s helped me understand my route that night, to fill in some of the blanks. But I think our acquaintanceship has run its course.’
Edward’s smile never wavered. ‘Has it? I rather think it’s just beginning.’
Aster’s eyes narrowed. ‘I hope not.’ She winced as she heard how stilted her speech had become, but there was something about Edward that brought out the very worst in her. ‘I think it’s best we go our separate ways.’
She stepped out into the sunlight, her head held high. Edward watched her go, a mix of amusement and respect playing across his features.
‘Tell me, have you made any progress with the painting?’
Aster paused, he had no right to know how things were going but she understood his interest. She shrugged, tipping her head to one side.
‘No news yet.’ So far, all she knew was that the bills were mounting up. Nick was sending her weekly accounts of the amount of money that was being sunk into the restoration. Every text was more terse than the last and Aster knew that her financially astute sister was running out of patience. On the other hand she was receiving texts from Otto saying that it was all very exciting and passing every test being set. ‘We’re hopeful of a positive outcome,’ said Aster turning to leave. ‘Now, thank you and goodbye.’ Taking a deep breath she walked down the steps and wondered at her reluctance to leave.
‘We’ll meet again, Aster Byrne,’ he called after her. ‘I promise you.’
Aster didn’t look back, didn’t falter in her stride. But as she walked away from Portman House, she couldn’t help wondering: was that a promise, or a threat?