Nell
PRESENT
Alex leaves and to distract myself from being on my own again until New Year’s Eve, I focus on the plans we made while he was here.
After spending Christmas week with his family in Paris, he’ll arrive in London on the thirtieth.
We’ll see in the New Year together and the next day, we’re leaving on holiday.
My suspicion that we’re going to Washington to see Alex’s father, then flying on to a resort, seems correct, because when I asked if I would need a swimsuit, Alex said I should pack more than one. I’m already counting the days.
At one point during our time together, I found myself asking about Ariane and to my relief, Alex hadn’t bristled at the mention of her name.
“Did your mother meet Ariane?” I’d asked.
“Yes, she did.”
“And did she approve?”
He smiled. “Of course. Ariane was French.”
“Oh.” My heart had sunk. “Is that important to her, that you’re with someone French?”
“Absolutely. She will totally disapprove of you.” Catching the look of alarm on my face, he’d laughed.
“I’m teasing. The only thing my mother cares about is that I’m happy.
” He’d taken me in his arms and swung me around the kitchen.
“And I am. Very happy. Everything is coming together. Moving here, moving in with you is perfect timing. For a start, I’ll be able to see Stephane more often. ”
I’d experienced a moment of doubt at his words, wondering if that was why he wanted to spend more time in London. But then I remembered he’d suggested it before Stephane had come back into his life.
Sadie comes into my office, her laptop open.
“How about this one?” she asks, plonking it down on the desk in front of me.
I look at the advert for a two-bed flat to rent in Westbourne Terrace, a couple of streets away from where I live now.
“Beautiful but expensive,” I say.
“It has a roof terrace,” she points out, because she knows how much I want one since seeing Inès’s. “But you’re right, it is expensive. You’d be better off buying something together.”
“Maybe, except we’re not at that stage yet.”
She closes her laptop. “Is everything all right? You seem a little distracted lately.”
“I’m fine, just not loving the run-up to Christmas. I could do without pushing through the crowds on the way home, and the bus takes twice as long because of all the traffic.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile. “It must be hard to get into the Christmas spirit when Alex is going to be in France. But at least you’ll be spending the New Year with him.”
“Yes,” I agree. “It’s nice that I have that to look forward to.”
I feel her looking at me more closely and I know it’s because my voice was flat. The truth is, I’m not looking forward to the New Year as much as I was, because on top of everything else, there’s something about Alex that’s been playing on my mind.
“Why don’t you work from home tomorrow?” Sadie says.
I stretch my arms above my head, easing the tension in my neck. “Actually, that would be really nice. But I’m meeting Inès for a drink after work so I may as well come in.”
“Where are you meeting her?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t arranged anything yet.”
“Well, suggest meeting in the Paddington area and then you can work from home.”
I tilt my head, looking up at her. “Have I ever told you that you’re a genius, Sadie?”
“Not often enough,” she says.
“Sure you don’t mind?”
“Will I miss seeing your downcast face? No, not really.”
I look at her guiltily. “Have I really been that bad?”
“No. But you do seem to have the cares of the world on your shoulders at the moment.”
“I just find it hard when Alex is away.”
“I know.”
I reach for my phone. “I’ll message Inès now.”
“Good.”
Would you be able to come to Paddington tomorrow evening? I type. We could have a drink at one of the bars along the Grand Canal.
Sounds good.
Great! Let’s meet outside Costa in the station.
She sends me a thumbs-up emoji and I feel warm inside at having made another friend.
I spend much of the next day wondering if I should tell Inès my worries about Alex. It will mean confiding in her but I can’t expect her to help me without some background information.
“I’m glad you suggested meeting up,” I say that evening, as we walk to one of the barges moored along the canal. “There’s something I want to ask you. It’s about Ariane.” I turn and glance at her face under the beautiful black Panama hat she’s wearing. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
“Ask away,” she says, blowing on her hands, because the temperature has dropped a notch or two. “I’ll help if I can.”
“Let’s find somewhere to have a drink first.”
The canal looks beautiful. The barges moored along its bank are decorated with Christmas lights and there’s an air of general good cheer in the atmosphere.
As we push our way to a tiny table at the back of the first barge that has space for us, it seems, from the smattering of conversations I hear, that most people have taken the following week off and are having a last drink with friends and colleagues before heading off on their holidays.
I wait until we’re settled with our glasses of mulled wine and have wished each other a happy Christmas.
“It’s about Ariane thinking she had a stalker,” I begin.
“Nothing was proved,” she reminds me.
“I know.” I take a sip of wine. “It’s just that I think I have one too.”
She pauses, her glass halfway to her lips.
“A stalker?”
“Yes.”
“But—since when?”
“A couple of months,” I say, even though it’s longer. “Sometimes, when I’m out and about, going to and from work, I feel that there’s someone following me. I’ve never seen them but I know that they’re there. They even got into my house before I changed the locks.”
Inès looks alarmed. “Nell, this is serious. Have you told the police?”
“Yes.”
She lets about a breath. “Good. When Ariane told me she thought she was being followed, I advised her to go to the police but she refused. What did they say? I hope they took you seriously.”
“They did and I have a number to call if ever I feel in danger.”
“That’s good. But, Nell, you’ve worried me. Is it a jealous ex, do you think? They say that stalkers are usually known to the person they’re stalking.”
“I thought I knew who it was but now I’m no longer sure. I’ve been wondering about Marcus, but—”
“Marcus? The guy who bought the house across the street from yours?”
“Yes, that one,” I say, remembering that Alex had mentioned it when Inès had come to lunch with Béatrice and Victor the previous week.
“It just seems a bit of a creepy thing to do.” I twirl the stem of the glass between my fingers.
“But I can’t help thinking that it might be something to do with Alex. ”
“Your stalker?”
“Yes. I know it’s mad but it seems a little strange that both Ariane and I, two of his girlfriends, have thought that we’re being followed while in a relationship with him. So, I wanted to ask you—do you know anything about his job?”
“His job?” She sits back in her chair. “He’s a consultant, isn’t he?”
“Marcus thinks he’s a spy.”
“A spy?” Inès’s eyebrows shoot up. “Why does he think that?”
“I suppose because I was never very clear on what Alex does when Marcus first asked me. And there are a couple of things which make me wonder if he might be right, like Alex having two phones, one for business and one for personal calls, and always calling me rather than me call him. And then there’s the fact that Ariane worked for the French secret service.
” I take a drink of wine. “I thought Béatrice might have said something to you?”
“About Alex being a spy?
“Or working for the secret service.”
She shakes her head. “If he is, Béatrice would be in the dark as much as the rest of us because he wouldn’t be allowed to tell anyone. But maybe that’s where Ariane and Alex met. Maybe he works for the secret service too. He’s a French national, so it’s possible.”
“So, what if Ariane’s murder wasn’t anything to do with her job but more about who she was in relation to Alex?” I say. “And what about Caitlin. What if her death wasn’t an accident?”
“Nell, you’re scaring me.”
“I’m scaring myself.”
“Have you spoken to Alex about any of this?”
“No, because when I told him about Marcus thinking he was a spy, he said that he wasn’t a spy. But he would say that, wouldn’t he, even if he was?”
“Probably,” Inès says. “I don’t know how it works if you’re married or in a serious relationship with someone. It seems crazy that you’d have to hide the true nature of your work from them.”
“I can’t believe we’re sitting here discussing the possibility of Alex being a spy,” I say despondently.
“Honestly, Nell, I don’t think he is. I don’t think he’s capable of living a lie. You’d have to be really devious to do that.”
I drain my drink, her words making me uncomfortable. What if she knew that I’ve been doing exactly that, living a lie, lying not just to my friends, but also to Alex?
“You’re right,” I say.
“Your stalker is more likely to be Marcus. Maybe he’s jealous of your relationship with Alex. Has he ever tried to take things further than friendship with you?”
“No.” I hesitate. “He did try and ask me out a couple of times but I managed to deflect him. But nothing more.”
“It doesn’t mean he isn’t your stalker.”
“I know.” I nod toward her empty glass. “Do you want another drink?”
“No thanks. I’m leaving early tomorrow morning and I still haven’t packed. Come on, I’ll walk you back to your house.”
“There’s no need,” I protest.
“After what you’ve just told me, there’s every need,” she says.