Chapter 51
Holly finished programming the dishwasher. Electricity was cheaper after eleven o’clock at night and so all her household appliances were scheduled to run through the early hours of the morning. Every little helped.
Glancing around the kitchen, she made sure nothing out of place would upset Charlie when he came down in the morning and went to collect her briefcase from the hallway.
Tomorrow’s client – she couldn’t even remember the poor man’s name – was suing his local convenience store for negligence and she wasn’t anywhere close to being on top of her brief.
The man – what the hell was his name? – in his early seventies, was registered blind and hadn’t seen the yellow, Caution Wet Floor cones positioned either side of a wine spillage.
He’d slid in a puddle of Sauvignon Blanc and cut himself on broken glass.
Timing, recorded on CCTV, strengthened Holly’s case; the spillage had occurred over an hour before the fall.
On the other hand, the store was family owned, it had been after ten o’clock at night, and the only staff member on the premises claimed he’d been too busy at the till to see to it.
The store was insured but if Holly won her case, the insurers would almost certainly dispute the claim.
Either way, it would be a bad outcome for someone.
A sudden loud knocking startled her. Coffie? Except, he never came round without calling first and would never bang on the door after Charlie had gone to bed. The media? Surely Tara hadn’t given her away.
A second knock. Even Charlie would wake up if this carried on.
Holly left the kitchen and, through the opaque glass in the front door, saw the outline of a man.
Nerves building, she attached the chain before she opened it.
Not the media. She almost wished it had been.
Chris, cashmere coat around his shoulders, stood on her doorstep.
‘I wasn’t sure I’d find you in.’ Chris slung his coat over the banister and followed Holly through to the kitchen. ‘I thought you might be … working.’
He pulled out a stool and sat at the central table, running his eyes over her papers. Holly gathered them all together.
‘Thank you,’ he said, with a nasty smile. ‘I’ll have a glass of red. Merlot if you have it.’
‘Why are you here, Chris?’
He held eye contact as he pushed the cuffs of his sweater back over his wrists.
If she hadn’t known better – Chris was a physical coward – she’d have thought him gearing up for a fist fight.
‘I came to give you my bank details,’ he said.
‘I could have texted them, but I thought it might be nice to have a catch-up.’ In an instant, the pretence at a smile was gone. ‘Give me your phone, Holly.’
‘What?’
‘I want your phone. I want to make sure you’re not recording this.’
‘Because you know you’re breaking the law?’
Her phone was on charge, directly behind where he was sitting. Fair play, had she known who was on her doorstep, she probably would have set it to record.
When she didn’t move, he spun round on his seat and spotted her phone. A second later, he had it.
‘Fourteen years maximum,’ Holly told him. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t check.’
The glint in his eyes was pure wicked; how had she never seen that in him before?
‘In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, a victim of blackmail will use any means to avoid appearing in public,’ he replied.
‘They will avoid publicity to the best of their ability and will go so far as to spend their last penny rather than allow their name to appear in the public press or become known in the law courts of this country.’
The bastard was quoting Hansard at her.
‘It’s not a loan, is it?’ she said. ‘I’m never going to get this money back.’
He looked hurt. ‘Holly, where’s the trust?’
Taking her by surprise, his hand, still holding her phone, darted out towards her, quick as a snake. She flinched away before it could recognise her face. He gave a heavy sigh, as though she were the one at fault.
‘A thousand,’ she said, hating herself. ‘It’s the best I can do.’
He shook his head. ‘Won’t touch the sides.’
She felt her throat constricting, a stinging in the back of her nose. ‘Don’t do this. I have a little boy.’
He held the phone out again. This time, she didn’t move away.