Chapter Two
‘Wow!’ David muttered two hours later as he finished reading the offer Cristy was still having some difficulty digesting.
She’d thrust the paperwork at him as soon as he’d walked into their hotel room a few minutes ago, and after sitting him down in one of the wing-backed armchairs, she’d gone to pour them both a drink from the mini-bar while he went through it.
He looked up, his acute yet gentle navy eyes showing how impressed and apparently amused he was.
Her heart tripped with a rush of unsteadying emotions: desire, because she always felt it when she hadn’t seen him in a while; elation at this incredible recognition; guilt for wanting it; fear of taking it …
‘They’re giving me time to think,’ she told him, ‘which, at the moment, is the only part I really seem able to get my head around.’
Drolly, he said, ‘Well, they obviously want you, but then again, who wouldn’t?’
She shot him a look and said, ‘It all feels so bloody big-time in comparison to my little world in Bristol – which, let’s not forget, I happen to love.’
Putting the offer down on the table next to him, David picked up his wine glass and saluted her. ‘You’re right, it is big-time,’ he agreed. ‘Or it could be, if you end up deciding it’s what you want.’
Sighing, Cristy sank down into the other chair and stared moodily at the enormous bed, with its six-foot high padded headboard and luxury pillows, where in normal times, they’d already be deeply into the throes of a joyous reunion.
Right now, she was too distracted to think straight, let alone make love.
Doing her best to refocus, she said, ‘How did your lunch meeting go?’
‘It was good. All fintech IPOs and business models – follow-up first thing tomorrow. Now, stop trying to change the subject.’
Smiling, she sipped her wine and felt overwhelmingly relieved that he was here.
David was just about the only person in the world she actually wanted to discuss this with, and not only because he was such a good listener, with a far greater understanding of all the nuances and ramifications of the offer than she could claim to have right now.
It was also because he wouldn’t bring his own agenda to bear on her final decision.
In fact, she was pretty certain it would make no difference to him, or to their relationship, where she lived or how she decided to proceed.
All he’d care about was her. At least that was the vibe he always gave off, and apart from a little misunderstanding here and there, she never had any reason to doubt him.
She turned to look at him and could tell right away that his dark eyes were seeing straight to the heart of her dilemma – her conscience even; how could she not love that about him? ‘It’s really thrown me,’ she admitted.
‘I know,’ he said, ‘which is why Kinsley’s given you time to think. If you’d had to make a decision today, you’d most probably have turned it down.’
Certain he was right about that, Cristy looked away and caught her reflection in the large, gilt-framed mirror over the glass-topped desk.
She could see, even from this distance, how bright her eyes were and how pale her complexion.
It was the look of someone trying very hard to keep her feet on the ground while wanting to shout with amazement and joy and …
triumph? Was that how she felt: triumphant?
Certainly flattered, maybe even a tad smug. How horrible was that?
What she really felt, she decided, was out of her depth and unforgivably disloyal towards her team – Connor most of all.
‘When are you speaking to Kinsley again?’ David asked, going to refresh their glasses.
‘Nothing’s in the calendar, but I have his mobile number. He told me to call any time.’
‘OK, then I recommend you start now with a list of everything you want to ask or discuss when you do speak. Chances are, he’ll contact you fairly soon just to check on the direction of your thinking, so best to be prepared for that.’
Taking that as good advice, even finding it a little easier to breathe at the prospect of space, she said, ‘Have you ever met him?’
Bringing their drinks back to the table, he said, ‘Once or twice. A long time ago, during my lobbying days. I never got to know him – he was someone else’s client – but he always struck me as an impressive, no-nonsense sort of guy.’
‘He’s that, all right: definitely not someone you want to be on the wrong side of, but a great ally if you ever need one.’
She took a sip of wine and felt it turn suddenly sour on her tongue as her thoughts returned to Connor and what this could mean for him.
Four years ago, when she’d been at her lowest ebb and in need of finding her way again, he’d abandoned his assured climb up the TV ladder to start Hindsight with her.
And what a great job they’d made of it so far.
They were a terrific partnership in spite of the age difference – or maybe because of it.
They could almost read one another’s minds when it came to producing, so why on earth would she want to risk losing that?
Maybe she wouldn’t lose it. Kinsley had said the decisions would be hers, and Connor was only thirty-one, so there was a chance, being as ambitious as he was, that he’d want to move to London with her.
Even as she thought it, she felt her heart sink.
He was as settled in Bristol as the SS Great Britain.
His wife and baby daughter were there, most of his friends, his contacts …
It would devastate him if she decided to give it all up to come and pursue her dream – if it was her dream, and she had no idea yet if it was.
‘Kinsley didn’t actually say this,’ she said, ‘but here’s what’s bothering me the most at the moment: I got the distinct impression that no one was seeing a good role for Connor in this new venture.
I mean, Kinsley insisted I’d get to call the shots, so presumably if I wanted to bring Connor on board I could, but if Kinsley is serious about approaching Andee Lawrence – and why wouldn’t he be, when she’s such a great choice – where would that leave Connor? ’
After giving it some thought, David said, ‘He could present with Andee, if you decide to run the show from behind the scenes?’
Cristy nodded slowly. ‘That could work, but right now, today, I’m not at all sure I want to take that sort of step back. I like being on the front line. Anyway, there’s no doubt Kinsley and Rathour are keen on the idea of me and Andee leading the pod.’
‘Anything wrong with a three-hander to include Connor?’
She considered it and sighed. ‘I’m not sure.
There’s a good chance he’d see himself as a third wheel, and I really don’t want that for him.
We work brilliantly together as we are. We love getting stuck into an investigation, planning the episodes, revealing new information, turning conventional wisdom on its head, exposing the bad guys …
’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘Falling for the good ones.’
David’s eyebrows rose as he took a sip of wine.
‘Anyway,’ she continued, sobering again, ‘there’s not only Connor to consider.
What about Harry and Meena? Losing Hindsight would mean a big hole in their business.
How on earth could I do that to them when they’re the ones who took a chance on me with the podcast in the first place?
They’ve worked as hard as anyone to get it established, pulled in all sorts of favours and even got a sponsorship liaison team going.
Basically, it’s thanks to them and all the effort they’ve put in that Hindsight has got the exposure it has. ’
Sitting back in his chair and stretching out his legs, David let the silence run for a while until finally he said, ‘As I see it, the main thrust of your conflict is between loyalty and ambition – both massive drivers in their own right, especially for someone like you who values friends as highly, perhaps even more highly, than success. We’ll see if that’s true as you work on your decision.
In the meantime, something you’ve yet to mention is family.
I get that Hayley’s at uni in Edinburgh … ’
‘She’ll definitely want me to do this, I’m sure of it,’ Cristy said, ‘and you know how chilled Aiden is about everything. And he’s seventeen now, kind of independent …
Actually, knowing him, he’ll probably see it as an opportunity to take over my harbourside flat while he finishes up Sixth Form, except neither Matthew nor I would let that happen. ’
‘The point is, he has his dad right there in Bristol, and being Mr Supercool, he’s not likely to beg you to stay. More likely, he’ll be so pumped – to use his word – about you moving to London that he’ll probably want to come with you.’
Laughing and groaning, Cristy said, ‘God spare me. Letting him loose in Bristol is risky enough; here would be inviting disaster.’ Her smile faded. ‘It’ll happen though, if he gets into UCL next year, so perhaps having me around to keep him focused and out of trouble will be a good thing.’
‘But we both know he’s smart enough to take care of himself, in spite of the front he puts up of having next to no relationship with the concept of consequence.
Anyway, as I said, while he’s in Bristol, Matthew will be there, and for all your ex’s faults, no one could accuse him of not being a hands-on dad. ’
‘Unless he’s in LA with his soon-to-be ex-second-wife and their baby son.’
‘But that’s not often.’
Her eyes were unfocused, her mind still racing as she ran through scenarios as exciting as they were daunting. In the end, finishing her wine, she said, ‘Please let’s talk about something else for a while? Maybe go for a walk or decide on the show we want to see later? Is that still the plan?’
‘Up to you,’ he replied. ‘I have a few calls to make before we go anywhere – one to home, and I’m sure Rosie will want to say hi.’
Warmed by the mere mention of his dear, thirty-two-year-old daughter, Cristy broke into a smile.
Rosie’s Down’s Syndrome had never held her back, if anything it seemed to make her sweeter and livelier with each passing day, and she was every bit as adorable as her grandmother, Cynthia, who’d played such a big part in helping to bring her up.
David’s other daughter, Anna, who was in her mid-twenties and his twelve-year-old son, Laurent, the girls’ half-brother, also lived at the big house in Guernsey, and what a wonderfully chaotic and happy place it was to spend time.
Deciding to check emails as David connected with Rosie, she reached for her phone just as Connor rang. ‘Hi, what news?’ she asked with no preamble.
‘Still no sign of Maeve or Nicole Ivorson,’ he told her. ‘I’ve sent Clove and Jacks over to Randall Lane to keep an eye on the press guys still hanging around over there, but it’s looking like the Ivorson women have gone to a secret address.’
‘Of course they have. Why would they want to face a lynch mob? Any details on the terms of release yet?’
‘Full parole, apparently, but still working on the conditions.’
‘Do we know if she confessed?’
‘Some are saying she did, but no statements providing clarity so far. I’ve put in a request for your old TV reports on the case.’
‘They should be … interesting,’ she said wryly.
‘But good call. If there’s any push back, Matthew should be able to help.
’ Her ex-husband still had a lot of clout at the TV company she’d once been a part of.
‘I really think this is going to be a good one for us,’ she said, meaning it in spite of how disloyal she was feeling.
It wasn’t as if she’d made a decision yet, and nor would she before the next series was over.
‘Agreed,’ he told her. ‘Got to go – another call coming in. Say hi to David.’ And he was gone.
As she put her phone down, David said, ‘Sounds as though you’ve got something interesting brewing?’
She nodded pensively, once again caught up in the past. ‘Nicole Ivorson’s just been released,’ she told him.
He frowned. ‘I recognize that name. Isn’t she the teenager who was sentenced to life for murdering her baby twins in some sort of ritual?’
‘Twenty years ago, so she’s no longer a teen.
I covered the story at the time … It was …
There was so much about it that was … off, for want of another word, even at the trial.
I don’t have all the details in my head now – as if any of us ever had them at all – but one thing I do know is that Nicole was charged and convicted in spite of no bodies ever being found. ’