Chapter Sixteen #2
Pausing the picture, I stopped the tape on one frame. There. Behind Emily, talking to Kate in the crowd was a familiar face, his gaze snapping back towards Emily, intent and fixed on her.
Around his neck was a red scarf, knotted casually at the throat. My hands clenched involuntarily. I knew the softness of that scarf — the suppleness of the cashmere. I felt cold, all the way to my bones. The last time Emily or I had seen that scarf it had been hanging on the newel post in the flat.
My teeth nibbled the edge of my fist, biting hard into the flesh. I felt sick, stomach churningly sick. That damp print on the carpet. Christ, he had been there while I slept.
‘My God, it was him in the flat,’ I whispered, staring wide-eyed with horror at the screen. ‘He’s been in our house!’
Daniel’s forehead creased. ‘What? Who’s been in the flat?’ he asked harshly.
I hesitated for a moment. How much should I tell him? Emily might have done the dirty on me but I didn’t feel comfortable about telling Daniel about her going on a speed-date behind his back. How would he feel?
Daniel’s expression became stern and stony faced. ‘Olivia, what the hell is going on? You never did explain the brick.’ He gave my shoulders an impatient shake. ‘What kind of trouble are you in?’
His eyes held mine, glinting angrily. ‘That broken window was no accident. You know, don’t you?’
‘I told you the married man doesn’t exist,’ I said, deliberately stalling for time not wanting to tell him the full story. Now that I’d seen Peter on the tape, I knew we should have taken his emails more seriously.
‘What’s the story this time, Olivia?’ Daniel’s voice had gone dangerously quiet.
His face was level with mine but I couldn’t look at him.
‘You’re going to have to tell me,’ he said firmly in a soft voice. I met his angry stare and pursed my lips.
Looking at his grim face, I knew this time nothing less than the truth would do. Quickly I told him all about the speed-date, Peter’s emails and the missing scarf.
Worrying at the fingernail on my index finger, I watched him with a sinking heart. I wanted to hide. I felt really small. This time he had every right to be angry.
‘Why the hell didn’t you tell anyone?’ he yelled. I’d never seen him like this before. ‘He’d thrown the brick through your window! You had to go to hospital!’
‘I wasn’t sure it was him,’ I said in a small voice. ‘There was no proof.’
‘Bloody hell. How could you be so fucking irresponsible?’ he hissed, stalking up and down the room, kicking angrily at the rug curling up under the sofa.
I’d never heard him swear quite like that before, certainly not at me and not at 95,000 decibels.
‘For God’s sake you’re an intelligent woman! What if he’d let himself in when you were there?’
I bit my lip nervously, dying to put my hand over my ears. Now was not the time to confess that Peter had once.
‘We have to phone the police. You need to get the locks changed.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Today,’ he barked, as I stood there, the remote control limply hanging from my hand.
That was the final straw, all the time he’d been shouting at me, I’d stayed calm. Now I lost it but not very convincingly. Seeing Peter had really shaken me up.
‘Don’t shout at me?’ I yelled back, my voice wobbling. ‘It was Emily’s fault.’ My voice broke slightly.
‘Leave Emily out of this for the time being,’ he snapped, ignoring the tremors in my voice.
‘I can’t you . . . you . . . big dickhead. She’s Walter Mitty, not me.’
That shut him up for a moment.
He looked at me bitterly. ‘What’s Emily got to do with this?
Why should I believe that? I’ve never had any reason not to trust her.
Now, all this comes out and . . . I don’t know what to believe.
I’ve always trusted you, too. We’ve been .
. . You’re . . .’ He faltered, a sad expression crossing his face, before he went on in a stronger voice to ask, ‘Why would Emily lie to me?’
God, she’d done a good job on him.
‘You . . . you . . . dickhead,’ I said again in sheer frustration.
‘Stop calling me that,’ he snapped back.
I glared at him mutinously, saying slowly and haughtily.
‘I . . . don’t . . . tell . . . lies! Omissions, perhaps.
I couldn’t tell you about the speed-date, not that it was anything to do with you, because Emily came with me.
So then I couldn’t tell you about Peter.
Emily’s your girlfriend, go shout at her! ’ I stopped to take a few breaths.
All the shouting, his and now mine, was exhausting and suddenly all the fight went. ‘Look, Daniel, until I saw that tape I had no evidence,’ I explained more calmly. ‘No proof. I’ve no idea how he got in or how often.’ I stopped uncertainly.
Silence hung in the air, the crackling anger between us dissipating as we both considered the implications of my last sentence. The thought that Peter had been in my room, touching my things made me feel ill. Daniel, seeing the look on my face, gave a heavy sigh.
‘Olivia.’ He leant against the mantelpiece, looking at me, his eyes blazing with emotion. The intense expression in them lit a tiny flicker of hope that burned low in my belly, sending butterflies skittering about.
‘Have you any idea how much danger you could have been in? God, I feel sick at the thought of you being harmed.’
‘Do you?’ I asked in a small voice.
He strode over to me, seizing my shoulders. ‘It was bad enough the night I found you covered in blood in your room. That night I realised . . .’ his low, impassioned words were like a blowtorch finally sparking full flame combustion.
‘Yes,’ I prompted, watching the expression on his face hungrily.
‘How long I’ve I wanted to do this . . .’ he murmured as he got closer and closer.
I swear my heart stopped. The tick of a clock echoed in the quiet. God, his lips were soft. I wanted more. Tingles of excitement blossomed in my stomach as the kiss deepened. Of their own accord my arms went up around his neck as our bodies pressed together.
‘Really?’ I asked breathlessly a few minutes later, my whole body reeling from the pleasure of that one kiss. The thundering in my ears was receding. I felt as if I’d been flattened by a herd of stampeding cows and left in the quiet aftermath in a cloud of dust.
‘Really,’ said Daniel emphatically, nodding his head. His blue eyes meeting mine, a gentle smile filling them.
Shyly, I examined his neck, resisting the temptation to trace my fingers down the strong column to the dark blond hair peeping out of the ‘V’ of his open shirt. I sneaked a look up at him. My heart flipped at the tender expression on his face. I couldn’t help myself, I gave him an ecstatic grin.
‘You needn’t look so pleased about it. I’ve aged ten years in this last month.’
‘Sorry.’ I bit back another smile, averting my gaze back to the smooth, slightly tanned skin of his neck. So kissable, I wanted to brush my lips against it.
‘So you should be, woman. What are you going to do to make it up to me?’
There was a challenge in his eyes, which combined with that humorous tilt of his eyebrows made me feel invincible.
‘I could kiss you to make it better,’ I said tilting my head, suddenly feeling full of confidence as I looked boldly at his lower lip in blatant invitation.
In response he brought his hand to my face, skimming my cheekbone with his thumb and my heart went straight into freefall, spiralling down. I took a sharp intake of breath as he bent his head down again.
Hard hats were most definitely required. That second kiss was even more thrilling than the first, setting off every firework going. Catherine wheels were fizzing through my stomach and when his tongue tentatively touched mine, I thought I might just go into meltdown.
‘And what exactly were you planning to make better?’ he asked, much later when we finally came up for air. I was too dazed to remember.
There was a click and a whirr as the video recorder switched off. Bugger. Our timing was lousy. Reluctantly we pulled apart, standing facing each other.
‘We have to do something about your stalker,’ Daniel said heavily, smoothing a strand of hair off my face.
I reached for his hand. It was impossible to concentrate when he touched my face. It was making me go all gooey inside and we needed to think sensibly.
‘I know,’ I replied regretfully, wanting to stay cocooned in that first-kiss glow of happiness but I couldn’t ignore what I’d just seen.
‘And,’ Daniel went on, ‘I need to talk to Emily.’ He looked at me, his eyes boring into mine. ‘I have to tell her it’s over. Today. I know how you feel about two-timing.’
My happy glow dimmed. What would she say? I didn’t want to be around when he told her. Although her resignation made things slightly easier. Another thing I hadn’t told him about yet.
It would have been so much easier to stay put, stick to our original plan, go the pub and bask in that heady intoxication of knowing your feelings are returned but I couldn’t. I sighed. ‘It’s no good, Daniel. I’m going to have to go back.’
‘No . . . we’re going to have to go back.’
* * *
Mum sussed something was up the minute I got home to drop off her Peugeot, but only because she caught Daniel kissing me as I locked her car.
Typical! She had to open the door at that second, her arms clutching the box of bottles and tins for the recycling bucket.
‘You’re back earlier than I expected.’ She looked at us with a smirk.
‘Emergency at work, Mum,’ I lied, waving the videotape at her. ‘Daniel’s taking me back. Need to pack.’ And with that I fled up the stairs abandoning Daniel. He was a big boy. He could cope.
* * *
With holdall in hand and ready to make a speedy exit, I wasn’t surprised to see Daniel comfortably ensconced at the kitchen table, chatting away to Mum. He was the only person who ever expressed an interest in her pottery. Too polite for his own good.
‘Go on, take it, Daniel,’ she was saying, pressing one of her misshapen bowls into his hand.