Beautiful Liar (8 page)

We'd talked about her staying the night with me on the way over, because it was such a long journey home for her. I hadn't particularly liked the idea of inviting her into my personal space, with all the questions that would open up, but I'd rather that than leave her alone here. Unfortunately now she giggled again, and shook her head. When she spoke, it was in a stage whisper. “Thanks, but Hugh's asked me over to his flat. I think he might have a bed for me there.”

She laughed at her own joke, but I couldn't see the funny side.

“Oh, Jas.” I pulled a face, like the one she'd pulled at my outfit. “Do you really think you should? This is the first time you've even talked to him!”

She gave me a playful slap. “Don't be so judgemental.” Her eyes flicked to the open doorway. “He's gorgeous and he likes me. It's just a bit of fun.”

I regarded her for a moment. She was old enough to do whatever she liked. I had no reason to lecture her, and I wasn't sure why I felt so protective when I'd only just met her. Maybe I was too used to looking after my mother and sister, but I couldn't stop myself interfering. It felt like she was out of her league here.

“If Hugh likes you, he'll take your number and call you to invite you out.” I gave the advice that millions of mothers would give to their daughters. And I had a feeling it was just as likely to fall on deaf ears. “Let him work for it.”

She frowned. “But that's the point. I don't want him to.”

Before I could argue with her, Hugh joined us in the hallway. Every time I looked at him, all I could think of was fox-hunting and country shoots.

“You ready to go, Jas? I've got a car coming.”

She linked her arm through his, and beamed up at him. “Sure thing!” She turned to me. “I'll call you tomorrow.”

She was gone before I could say anything more. I went back in to the room and looked around, just in time to see Alex disappearing upstairs with some leggy redhead I didn't recognise. Well, that hadn't taken long.

There was no reason for me to stay. So I headed out into the night alone.

The blare of a car horn woke me. I groaned as I checked my watch. I'd only got to bed a few hours ago, and I could've done with more sleep. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling every one of the springs in the old, thin mattress. It was only three days since I'd moved into the B and B, and already it felt like far too long.

As usual, there was a queue for the bathroom. I spent as little time as possible in there when my turn came. Something must have overflowed, and the mess hadn't been mopped up properly, so the tiled floor was covered in a layer of dirty water. The woman before me hadn't bothered to flush the toilet. I had a quick, cold shower, which didn't make me feel much cleaner, and then went back to my room to dress.

I went to the canteen for breakfast. I grabbed coffee and some toast, and sat at the end of the long plastic table, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. There seemed to be
kids everywhere, which just depressed me. It also made me more determined than ever to get as much money together as possible so I could find us somewhere to live as a family. Whatever happened, I didn't want April to end up in a place like this.

Back in my room, I called my sister. We'd worked out a system—I'd leave a message and then she would call me back when she got a chance.

I was lying stretched out on my bed, reading, when April phoned ten minutes later. It was hard to hear her, and I had to keep asking her to speak up. Something didn't feel quite right, and when I heard the sound of running water I decided to ask.

“Where are you?”

She hesitated for a second before answering, and I could tell she was debating whether to lie.

“April . . .”

“I'm in the bathroom,” she whispered.

“Why on earth are you calling from there?”

“Because there's this girl, Racquel, who keeps stealing my things. You know, the one who took my lunch money the other day? If she knows I've a phone, it'll be gone straight away.”

I winced at the distress in her voice. “Do you want me to have a word with her?” After what Maggie had said, I'd ruled out making a formal complaint, so it was the only action I
could think of. I had no problem standing up to bullies, but my sister was a lot softer than me.

There was a pause at the end of the line, as April considered this. “No,” she said eventually. “If you get involved, it'll just antagonise her.”

That was the last thing I wanted. “All right. It's your decision. But if things get worse, let me know and I'll do something about it.”

In the meantime, I told her to keep doing what she was doing—hide the phone, and we'd talk every day at this time—that way, she could arrange to be somewhere secluded to speak to me. At least I'd be seeing her soon. As part of the care order, Maggie had arranged for me to see my sister every Tuesday evening for two hours.

As we said goodbye, April asked me the question I'd been dreading: “When do you think I'll be able to come and live with you?”

“Soon, I hope. I'm doing everything I can.”

I couldn't say more than that, and fortunately she didn't press me on the subject.

After that, it was time for me to leave the B&B. I needed somewhere warm to sit—preferably where I wouldn't have to pay for coffee—so I headed over to the John Harvard Library, near London Bridge, which was thankfully open on Sunday. I'd just selected a newspaper from the rack, when my mobile phone beeped. I mouthed an apology to the
glaring librarian, but as I took my phone out to put it on silent, I saw that I had a message from Jas. It read:

Doing the walk of shame! Will give u FULL deets when I c you.

She'd added a smiley face with a wink. Usually I hated it when people did that, but with Jas it made me smile. I was pleased that despite my naysaying she'd obviously had a good time. It was clear I'd be hearing all about it later.

The events of the previous evening were still running through my head—mostly that conversation outside with Alex Noble. I wasn't sure why he'd singled me out. All I knew was that I needed to stay away from him. I had enough problems in my life without developing a crush on some womanising bad boy with too much time and money on his hands.

Having a boyfriend had never held that much interest for me. My mum had spent the past six years fawning over a never-ending parade of losers, desperately trying to alleviate her loneliness. I had no desire to let my happiness revolve around a man.

But obviously Jas didn't feel the same way. When I walked into the staff changing room at Destination the following Wednesday evening, she came bounding up to me, dying to divulge everything about her night with Hugh.

“His flat was a-may-zing.” She dragged me over to one of the benches, clearly settling in for a good gossip. “Honestly, babes, you should've seen the place. His bed's bigger than my bloomin' bedsit!”

“Shush.” I gave a quick glance round to check that no one was eavesdropping. I didn't want Jas to get into trouble for fraternising with a customer. But she didn't seem to care.

“What're they going to do, sack me? I can't see Hugh standing for that!”

I didn't like to point out that it was possibly a bit too soon to start relying on him. Even if I had, I'm not sure she'd have listened.

Luckily, before she could go into further details about what had happened at his flat, Mel came in.

“Come on, girls. Let's get moving.” She clapped her hands. “It's going to be a busy one, I can feel it. But remember, however tired you are, don't let the customers hear you complain.”

I rolled my eyes at Mel's catchphrase. I turned to Jas, expecting her to make a sarcastic comment at our manager's expense, but instead she was already up, pulling me to my feet and across the room.

“Why're you so eager to get out there?”

She turned and fluttered her eyelashes at me. “Because Hugh'll be there.”

“You're such a tart.” I punched her affectionately.

“And proud of it!”

* * *

Mel was right. By midnight, the place was heaving. We were all pretty much rushed off our feet collecting dirty glasses and bringing the clean ones back from the kitchen, so there was no time to chat. But every now and then I'd pass Jas, and she'd whisper to me, “Have you seen him?” and I would shake my head.

It was almost one in the morning, and I was rushing over to clear and clean a table that had just been vacated, when Jas grabbed me.

“He's here!” Her eyes were bright with excitement. I followed her gaze, and saw Hugh seated at one of the best tables along with two very serious, swarthy-looking guys in expensive suits. Two leggy blondes approached and slid into the booth with them, and I could feel Jas stiffening next to me.

“What the hell do they think they're playing at?” Before I could say anything, she took down her ponytail, shook out her hair and struck a pose in front of me. “How do I look?”

“Great, but—” I'd been about to ask if she thought it was a good idea to go over and see him, but she was gone before I could finish the sentence.

I watched as she approached the table. She looked happy and confident as she went up to Hugh. She must have said
his name to get his attention, but as he turned towards her he looked blank, as though he'd never seen her before.

Jas froze, clearly confused by what was going on.

One of the blondes said something—she must have been telling Jas to clear the table, because I watched irritation cross my friend's face. She hesitated for just a second, and I could sense she wanted to tell the girl where to go. But instead she seemed to take a breath, and picked up the dirty glasses. She shot Hugh a contemptuous look, and then walked back over to me. Hugh didn't so much as glance in her direction.

“Bastard pretended not to know me,” Jas said as she reached me. She wiped her hand across her eyes, smearing her mascara a little. I could tell she was trying to look angry, but it was obvious she was more hurt than anything else. “Guess I'm not good enough for his rich friends.”

In that moment, I wanted to go up and punch him.

“Forget him. He's not worth it.” I wasn't really the hugging type of person, and even if I had been it wasn't appropriate right there in the middle of the club, so I settled for reaching out to wipe the black smudges of make-up from around her eyes. “In fact, weren't you just about to tell me how lame he was in bed?”

She managed a weak smile. “Yeah, I guess I was.” Then her face dropped, and she sighed. “You were right, weren't you? I shouldn't have slept with him.”

“Well, what did you expect?” We whirled round to see Tori Cavendish, the expensive blonde who'd been rude to us at Alex's party. She'd clearly overheard every word we'd said, and had a catlike smile on her pretty face. “The likes of Hugh Forbes don't date ex-strippers.” She shot Jas a look of disdain. “To him, you're a one-night stand, nothing more.”

With that parting shot, she flipped her long blonde hair and glided off.

My hands clenched into fists at Tori's unnecessary cruelty. I felt especially bad, because I suspected that she'd only been mean to Jas to get back at me for monopolising Alex's attention at his party. I was about to go after her, and demand that she apologise to my friend, but Jas put a restraining hand on my arm.

“Leave it.”

I followed her gaze, and saw Mel watching us through narrowed eyes. I imagined she wouldn't take too kindly to me insulting one of the customers, so I forced myself to take a deep, calming breath.

We both hurried away, and for the rest of the evening we had no opportunity to talk. I spotted Jas a couple of times, looking sad and a bit spaced out, and I couldn't help feeling furious at Hugh for hurting her like that. But in some ways, maybe it was a good thing. At least it would cure her of hanging out with rich guys who treated her as though she were dirt.

* * *

The club officially closed at three, but it was half past by the time all the members had left and the cleaners had arrived. I caught up with Jas in the changing room, and once we'd put on our street clothes, we walked out together. As we passed the staff break room, I saw that Alex was in there, with half a dozen of his friends—London's bluebloods, as Jas had called them. They were gathered round a table, playing poker.

We paused in the doorway.

“Why're they back here?” I asked Jas.

“Owner's son can do what he likes—including have his own after-hours parties.”

They were so engrossed in their game that they didn't notice us at first. Tori had somehow persuaded them to let her join in, but she clearly had no idea what she was doing. She kept asking Alex for help, and was giggling, not even bothering to try to take it seriously. The game ended, and she revealed a weak hand, losing all her chips in the process.

“Oh no!” she pouted prettily. “Can't I have another go?”

“No way, Tori.” It was Jamie Drummond, the portly son of a duke, who was known among the waitresses for being a bit hands-y. “As I said before, girls can't play poker.”

I thought I'd just mentally rolled my eyes at that, but I
must have made a scoffing sound in the back of my throat, because everyone turned to look at me.

“I think someone begs to differ on that point.” It was Alex who spoke. He had such a distinct turn of phrase. He'd use these words—odd, almost old-fashioned expressions—as though he was permanently mocking those around him.

He pulled out the free chair next to him, inviting me to sit down. “Well?” His wolf eyes held a challenge. “Are you going to show us how it's done?”

I hesitated. I didn't want to back down on a challenge, but I'd also planned to stay away from Alex Noble unless absolutely necessary. Then I caught the look of unease on Tori's face. She was worried that I would show her up. And the prospect of doing that was too good to pass up. It would be my way of paying her back for upsetting Jas.