30. Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty
“Alison,” Estella said smoothly, as if meeting her eyes at a party over the canapés. “You’re looking well.”
Estella looked identical to the last time Alison had seen her. Her red dress Alison was pretty sure was Dior, her heels Louboutin, her platinum hair set in salon perfect soft waves. The lipstick matched the dress and her skin was flawless; Alison almost wanted to ask which cosmetic clinic she used because Estella had to be at least thirty-five and she seemed to be ageing backwards. The gleaming gun she gripped was reminder enough not to ask nosy questions.
“Estella,” she returned, with as much dignity as she could gather, greeting her ex-husband’s mistress while trembling at gunpoint in her kitchen, surrounded in half-unpacked grocery bags. Alison found it was possible to fear for your own life and still regret that a packet of tasty-cheese corn chips was lying out in full view .
“Mike sent you?” Estella turned her gaze to Devo. He looked sickly pale, which wasn’t the best sign for the longevity of anyone in this room. He nodded, tightly. “Mm,” she said. “Consider yourself recalled.” She jerked her head towards the stairs and - without needing to be told twice - the armed triple murderer bolted for the front door. Alison felt Hope shiver behind her and she squeezed her fingers again. Estella was a psychopath but at least she wasn’t inclined to murder Hope for the hell of it. Was she?
“Hope was just leaving.” Alison tried again.
Estella just smiled.
“Oh don’t be like that,” she said. “Come on. Let’s have a seat, shall we?” She gestured towards Alison’s living room. As they obediently trailed into the living room, Alison finally caught a glimpse of Hope. She was faintly sweaty and white-lipped but holding together incredibly well for a woman being held at gunpoint for the second time in ten minutes. Alison felt a misplaced flash of desperate pride. They sat side by side on the living room sofa, Estella neatly sinking down in the centre of the opposite three-seater.
“Aren’t you a pretty thing?” Estella looked at Hope, one blonde bombshell sizing up another. “Exquisite. Be a darling and find us something to drink, will you?” She lay her gun carefully on her knees. “No funny business,” she sang out. “And nothing red, it gives me migraines. ”
Hope cocked her head, the faintest hint of defiance in her expression like she couldn’t believe Estella right now. Alison went slightly lightheaded but Hope got up and strode to the kitchen, opening the third cupboard to the right to pull out the wine glasses and opening the lefthand side of the fridge to retrieve a chilled bottle of sauvignon blanc. Estella watched her closely then turned her smirk to Alison.
“Well well,” she said. “You really have upgraded.”
Alison sighed. There was no point in trying to persuade Estella any different, not with Hope so clearly at home in her kitchen. She and this gun-toting mobster had once loved the same man, holding them in the strangest kind of intimacy.
“Try not to fuck this one,” she said mildly and Estella laughed, her eyes sparkling with genuine glee.
Hope re-entered the living room and neatly placed three full wine glasses on the coffee table between them. Clearly having heard the comment she gave up all pretence and sat so close to Alison she was practically in her lap, one hand on her thigh. Alison, despite every reason not to, felt a rush of joy at her touch. Not with Camille. Not mad at me. It was a pity her time to rejoice was probably going to be frighteningly short.
“I’m surprised to see you alive,” Estella admitted. “I didn’t think I’d make it on time. It’s just lucky for you that Devo is a goddamned idiot… always has to do the Scooby-Doo villain act and talk too much. Can’t imagine there’s any other way he’d get women to listen to him, ou tside of literally holding them captive, so I suppose I can’t entirely blame him,” she mused. “Apparently he’s a terrible aim too, since I hear Simon is also alive?”
“He’s far too slimy to kill,” Alison said and Estella gave her an even stare before she took a sip of her wine.
“I’m a far better shot than Devo,” she said lightly. “Especially since he’s quite likely dead by now.”
“Dead?” Hope spoke for the first time.
“Aren’t you a cutie,” Estella said, “all concerned about poor old Dev. That man would have maimed you and enjoyed every minute of it; the world’s a far better place without him. Don’t worry, he wouldn’t have suffered. Much.”
“Are you going to kill us?” Hope asked her directly.
“ Kill you?” Estella’s hand fluttered to her chest, like she was offended. “Listen to you.” She smiled indulgently at Alison who noticed she quite neatly hadn’t answered the question. “She’s got some spice, I’ll give her that. I’m sure it more than translates in the sheets, does it not?” Suddenly she lifted her head, her face going alert, like a bird of prey. She gazed out at the huge plate glass windows, looking out over the lake, the expansive view of the nearby hills, the jetty jutting out over the water .
“Change of location,” she announced, picking up her gun. “Move.” They got quickly to their feet, no one keen to question the gun-holder. “Oh my god, ladies!” She stopped them. “Don’t forget your wine.”
Glasses in hand, Estella herded them down the hall to the bedroom.
“Ooh, cosy,” she said, nodding them towards Alison’s king-sized bed. “We can snuggle up and gossip.”
Feeling all kinds of terrified - something had unnerved Estella - Alison followed Hope up to sit side by side against the headboard. Estella sat halfway down the bed, her lithe legs crossed, leaning on one hand, gun still neatly between her silky knees.
“Scooby-Doo time,” she declared. “But you’re going first. You’re not the first wife he cheated on, are you?”
Alison blinked. Beside her, Hope slipped her hand onto her thigh again, soft, reassuring.
“No,” she said. “He was married when he got me pregnant.”
“Adorable,” said Estella. “Did you ever meet her? ”
“Once.” Alison swallowed at the memory. “We’d been married for a couple of years and she paid me a visit, alone at home one morning.”
“Ooh.” Estella raised her eyebrows. She sipped her wine, looking excited. “How was it?”
“Terrifying,” Alison admitted. She forced herself to keep talking. The longer they talked the more chance help was coming. Surely someone was coming. “I was twenty-four, exhausted, with a screaming toddler in the house. She was forty or so. Gorgeous. Very well dressed.” Alison shook her head, trying to place herself back in the scene, anywhere that wasn’t this room, this moment. “I remember thinking she was going to scream at me or slap me. But what she did was so much worse.”
“I love this,” Estella said, tossing a lock of hair behind her shoulder. She seemed fully relaxed and entirely tantalised by Alison’s retelling. “Go on.”
“She thanked me.” She met Estella’s eyes. “She said she’d moved to the coast and walked every day on the beach, that she loved every second of her life. She told me I’d taken him off her hands and she was truly free for the first time since she’d married him. And then,” Alison took a solid gulp of her wine, “then she said, don’t worry darling, he’s all yours now. Just make sure you never age.”
Estella gasped .
“Oh my god.” She leaned forward, her eyes filled with glee. “Oh… she got you good.”
“Yes,” Alison said simply. “She buried that in my brain, ready to kill me slowly as soon as I reached twenty-nine.”
“She’s my hero,” Estella said. “And I’m yours.”
Alison bit her lip. She stared at the woman who’d ended her marriage, who’d been a cause of the most savage pain she’d ever experienced, that her son had experienced.
“Yes,” she said. “I think you probably are.”
Estella smiled, her teeth flashing white between the blood red of her lips.
“I did you dirty,” she said. “And honestly I regret it. He wasn’t worth what I had to go through afterwards. Mike is… well, you’re aware of who my husband is.” Her eyes narrowed. “What he’s capable of.”
“Yes.”
“Though in a way I like to think it was necessary,” she said. “Look at you now.” She flicked her eyelashes over Hope. “I liberated you.”
“That’s a rather glossy view of it,” Alison said drily and Estella cackled again. She ran her fingers down the barrel of the weapon in her lap.
“Hasn’t anyone warned you you should be a little more respectful when someone comes in waving a gun?”
Hope stiffened beside her.
“I’ve lived in fear for five years,” Alison said. “Every choice I’ve made it’s been knowing that this might be coming. I’d really appreciate it if you’d let her go though.”
“We’ll get to that,” Estella said impatiently and Alison felt, for the first time, a small streak of wild hope. “My turn now,” Estella declared. “We’re more alike than you think,” she told Alison. “I also married young. The wrong man too, as it turned out. It has certain benefits,” she stroked her fingers down her designer dress, “but the costs are rather high.”
“Estella,” Alison said. “Do you… need help?”
For a second, Estella looked actually shaken. And then she flushed with rage.
“I am my own help,” she snapped. “Do you think I’d survive five years of marriage to that man after the affair came out, only to crumble into victimhood now? Why do you think I’m here?”
“Honestly,” Alison said, “I really wish you’d tell me.”
“To pay my debts, honey,” Estella said. “You were going to die today - you and your sweet little girlfriend - and I got here in time to save both your pretty heads. Shit’s going down today, darling. Mike thinks he’s getting his ducks in line but you know men, sometimes you have to make them think everything is their idea.” She took a sip of wine. “He’ll be dead by nightfall,” she said calmly. “The Grant clan is mine.”
“Oh my god,” Hope whispered, something like awe crossing her face. Alison had the untimely memory that Hope was a huge Universe Below fan.
“That’s right baby girl.” Estella gazed at Hope seriously. “Everyone that’s being eliminated is because they were my problem. After tonight, there’s no one left who’ll challenge me.”
“Congratulations,” Alison said. She’d meant it to be sarcastic but somehow it came out genuine. Estella met her eyes for a long, harrowing moment, but the gun stayed in her lap.
“I’m here for two reasons,” she said. “The first is that I’m fucking pissed our darling ex is still alive. He’s a dirty little liability and I don’t like liabilities. And,” she added darkly, “the fucker betrayed me, so ideally I’d like his dick sawn off with a rusty blade. But I suspect, having met you, that despite everything you probably don’t want your son to have to mourn his father.”
“I don’t want that for him,” Alison said instantly, aware that she was pleading for the life of the cheating husband who’d put her in this position in the first place.
“Then I want you to let him know that gunshot wound or not, he’s got a week to leave the country. One foot back here and he’s a dead man.”
Alison swallowed, so lightheaded that her fingers tingled. Estella was leaving her alive. Would there be a cost?
“Okay,” she said, as soon as she could make her voice work. “And the other reason?”
“I’m in charge now,” Estella said, her spine straightening as she met her gaze head on. “And I’m here to let you know you’re safe. No more visits. No more watching your back.” She flicked her eyes to Hope and back. “Live your life, Alison. Walk on the fucking beach.”
All of a sudden Estella got to her feet. She leaned in, grabbed Alison’s jaw and kissed her mouth, long and hard .
“Mm,” she said. “Simon definitely wasn’t worth it.” She winked at Hope. “Enjoy, you pretty things.”
Then she turned and left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.