Jonan smiled. ‘Be open to the possibility that you may have found what you’re looking for.’
Beth swallowed. The silence was thick. Jonan watched her, the purple of his eyes deepening. He said nothing.
‘It’s, erm, it’s this way,’ Beth said, pointing down the road towards home.
Jonan nodded and they walked on in silence.
‘Here you are,’ Jonan said as they arrived, too soon, at the tree in front of her flat.
‘Thank you. Will you be alright walking home alone?’ Beth grinned.
Jonan let out a belly laugh that washed away the tension. She giggled. He laughed again and then she couldn’t stop. By the time the laughter subsided, they were both gasping for breath.
‘Look, Jonan…’
‘Beth, is that you? What are you doing down there?’ Laura leaned out of the living room window, waving her arm at Beth. ‘Who’s that you’re with?’
‘Oh for goodness sake.’ Beth sighed. ‘Is there no end to her ability to ruin a moment?’
Jonan smiled, but the hilarity was gone.
Beth walked over to the communal entrance. She reached for the handle, and then turned. Jonan hadn’t moved. From this distance an aura glowed around him, a shimmering purple that matched his eyes.
‘Beth, are you coming?’ Laura yelled again.
Jonan smiled and raised a hand.
Beth nodded, and then pulled the door open and forced herself to walk through. She jarred when the door slammed behind her, the sound like a shove against her spine. It normally took her half an hour of meditating to become this open. How had it happened so quickly when she hadn’t even tried?
At the top of the communal stairs she stopped at her front door and turned the key in the lock. Inside, she stepped out of her pumps and turned on the living room light. Padding barefoot on the smooth, parquet floor, she squinted through the large, picture window into the darkness. Jonan was underneath the tree, his blond hair glinting in the moonlight. She waved.
He lifted a hand in acknowledgement.
‘Beth?’ Laura yelled.
She turned at the thump of footsteps.
When she looked back out the window, Jonan had gone.
‘Where have you been?’ Laura’s voice was oddly high pitched.
‘Why, what’s happened?’ Beth felt a familiar sinking feeling. Laura only cared where Beth was when she wanted something. It was rarely anything simple.
‘I had a horrible day at the studio.’ Laura sniffed and slumped down on the sofa, kicking off her flip flops and curling her legs under her. ‘There was this awful woman who was ranting about Amelia’s claims being made-up fluff. She said Amelia just wanted the publicity. Can you believe that? She actually thought the poor woman used her own mother’s death as a stunt?’
Beth poured herself a glass of red wine from the open bottle on the table. Several glasses were clustered round. ‘Are we expecting company?’
‘No, not really, just a few friends from the studio. You’ll love them.’
Beth sighed. ‘What makes you so sure Amelia isn’t pulling a stunt? She said all the right stuff the other day, but honestly, she was far too composed to be as distraught as she claimed.’
‘She’s a professional.’ Laura was enunciating too clearly, a sign she was angry. Her neck was stiff, her almost pointed chin tilting upwards. A vein throbbed in her jaw.
Beth sighed. ‘I’m sorry, is she a friend of yours? I had no idea. I didn’t mean to be insulting.’
‘She’s not a friend, but I know she would be if I could just meet her. We would click, instantly, and be best friends. I just need to figure out how to get an introduction. I nearly met her at the studio the other day but you distracted her.’
Beth’s eyes widened. ‘I didn’t distract her. She interviewed me during the show and then moved on. I really wasn’t that much of an event.’
‘You were, more than you know.’
The doorbell rang. Laura jumped off the sofa and pranced out of the lounge.
Beth grabbed her wine and headed for the door. She couldn’t face one of Laura’s studio sit-ins tonight. She waved at the over-trendy guy with spiky hair who was leaning against the door frame, staring at Laura’s chest. Then she slipped into her room and shut the door firmly behind her.
CHAPTER FOUR
Beth
A mist hung over the main street as Beth walked to work the next morning. The pavements were still littered from the weekend market stalls, giving the town a used-up feel. She popped into the coffee shop below her office and bought the largest cappuccino they had, but it did nothing to clear the feeling of dread that was settling in her stomach for no apparent reason.
An engine roared and Beth looked up to see a souped-up, white car with navy striped trim and tinted windows. Loud music rattled the car and jarred Beth’s sleepy body. It sped down the road, and then slammed into an emergency stop as a white van turned right towards the market. The van swerved out of the way, crashing into a pile of wooden pallets packed with cauliflowers, broccoli and potatoes. Vegetables flew around, hitting both the van and the car, smashing as they landed on the road.
The market trader yelled and leaped over the pallet, banging on the window of the van, arms waving. The guy in the car got out, pulling his baseball cap farther down over his face. He slammed the car door and strode towards the van, curling his shoulders in and clenching his fists. Then he stopped as the door of the van opened. Both the market trader and the car driver stepped back.
The guy in the van climbed out slowly, his heavily muscled arms bunching as he rolled his shoulders. He wore a muscle shirt in spite of the early chill, which showed off his intricate tattoos. ‘Do we have a problem?’ His voice was low, but it carried through the stillness that surrounded the growing confrontation.
The men lifted their hands in front of their faces and backed away. Beth could see their mouths moving, but their voices carried away on the wind. The car’s engine revved, and then it screeched off towards the roundabout at the top of town. The market trader bent to collect what remained of his vegetables.
There was a shuffling next to Beth and she turned. The man next to her was filming. He shrugged. ‘You can’t be too careful. There’s weird stuff going on right now.’
‘Hmm.’ Beth shook her head and ducked in through the door to the old building that housed the small events company she worked for. She let out a breath as the door slammed behind her and made her way up the steep, misshapen steps to the upper floor. The dim autumn morning flooded the room with shadows, so she put all the lights on full and cranked up the heating. The light flickered. She shivered as a chill shot down her spine.
‘Well hello there,’ she murmured to the presence in the room. ‘It’s nice to feel you here after all that craziness. Are you going to talk to me today? I still don’t know your name.’
Beth felt a sense of laughing, but nothing more. The lights settled down to normal.
A blast of cold air shot into the room as the door swung open. Charlie Smythe, Beth’s boss, slammed the door behind him and dropped into his chair next to the radiator. He put his hands over the flat surface and shuddered. ‘I do wish they’d heat this dump better.’
‘You’re in charge. Make it happen.’