Unbind (18 page)

Okay, that was a lie. I could get in touch if I really wanted to. I was just afraid. The look on his face when he saw that rose. It was like it touched a raw nerve. I wondered if he was the insanely jealous type and didn’t want to think he had competition. Perhaps he hated that I’d fooled around with Klaus, I didn’t know.

“I knew there was something major there and he wasn’t just trying to get in my pants, it was special. When he kissed me, I forgot myself. It wasn’t like with anyone else. It was romantic.”

“Oh my gawd!” Her hands covered her mouth.

“W-what?” I demanded.

“You got it bad!” Oh, so it was all me now. All my love life. Or lack of.

I grimaced and twisted my lip to say, “He might be in New York when I go. I might see him, if chance brings us together. I don’t know what I’ll do if I bump into him, or I suppose I might call him when I get there. I have a number for him, it might work over in the states. I could try—” I was arguing with myself right in front of her.

“Christ, Chloe.”

I hid my face in my arms, bent over the table. She reached out to stroke my hair and was even considerate enough to sweep some strands over my scar so nobody would see. It wasn’t pretty and ran three inches over my scalp, in a jagged pattern too.

“You changed after that happened, you know,” she began cautiously. “I know you never want to talk about it. Just, we all know you changed.”

“We?” I glared.

“Yeah. Me and your fam, babe.”

“Nobody knows what that did to me,” I retaliated, and took a long slurp of wine. Even the thought of
them
as a unit while I was left out made me angry. “Especially them.”

“Can’t choose ’em but, they are your fam. Whether they sell you up shit creek or not.” She gave me a small, lopsided smile.

“I know,” I whispered. It sometimes annoyed me that she knew all those parts of my past nobody else did. I couldn’t escape the knowledge we shared and when I looked into her eyes, I couldn’t deny who I really was. It was a blessing and a curse to be as close as we were.

“Yeah, look,” she breathed heavily, “I know what I grew up with will never leave me… even now Mum and me barely talk. Yeah, my view of love is fucked up but Rob… when he was with me and we were alone, sometimes he could be so different. He reminded me of you. Of how you come off to some, but how different you are beneath.”

I didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not. “Kay, I prefer people to think I am uncompromising. It makes things easier. He preferred people to think he was charming, but essentially, he was a snake.”

It was a wonder Rob and me weren’t ever together. After all, opposites attract and all. She shook her head. “Maybe I thought he could change and be better… just… I was obviously the wrong person to transform him.”

I was glad she had accepted it was over. To some extent, it seemed she had anyway. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for her.

“Still at the flat? Still at
Empire
?”

She squinted so I poured more wine. I looked at her intently as I waited.

“Still at the flat just not at
Empire
. I quit when another job came up… at
Elle
!” She clapped and I screamed.

“
Elle
! Wow!”

We both stood and hugged it out. Might have even done us a little dance right there, round the table. Sod the onlookers. I knew that was her dream. She loved fashion even more than me!

She sniggered and shouted above the din of the eatery, “God, I missed you! Stay at mine tonight? I got cookies and more wine back there. I gotta say that twat next door,” she gestured to her flat over the road, “has still been banging a different fella every night. We NEED to get out my guitar and YOU need to sing so badly I cry with laughing.”

“Fuck me, as if that’ll be hard,” I said already screaming.

“She needs to be taught a fucking lesson when she knows I’m in a dry spell.”

We high-fived that.

IN THE MORNING I had an idea as I left Kay’s flat. I went down into the florist below her place and sniffed around inside, looking for a rose that might even vaguely resemble the ones I had received anonymously.

“Can I help you?” A young, twenty-something woman asked.

“Hmm, yes. I hope so. I don’t want to seem cheeky but… I’m not here to buy anything. I’m investigating.”

The young woman folded her arms, straightened her back and stuck her chin out. “Oh yeah?”

“You know my friend, Kay, she lives upstairs?” I started off with namedropping.

“Oh yeah, wicked tats.” The girl’s face brightened. “Bad singing voice though apparently. Heard it went on ’til three this morning.”

I choked on a laugh and pretended to be clearing my throat. “Yeah. Anyway. We’ve known each other since infants. It’s crazy. We even went to university in the same city.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, sizing me up.

I knew I needed to assuage her. “I have a question directly relating to your profession. You see, I got a delivery of this rose, a rare rose by the looks. I haven’t found out anything about it, like where it comes from, its name, its species, you know. I thought, would you have a look?”

“Of course,” she nodded, now more interested.

I took out my phone and showed her the one photograph I’d taken. The florist looked over it curiously but seemed to draw a blank.

“It
is
rare, you’re right. Never seen it before in my life. It has qualities of the English garden rose but it’s so unusual. A cabbage but a bud, still. Beautiful.”

“The colour is too… I dunno, striking, don’t you think? I got sent this blood-red one, but there was also a hot-pink version and a burnt-orange.”

“Exquisite,” she agreed. “Porn for a florist!”

We laughed and I recognised she was looking at me funny.

“Where would someone go for rare flowers? The sort that get delivered through florists, anyway,” I queried out of interest.

“The Netherlands is where it’s at. This, though, hmm… could have come from anywhere. Could be a private grower, a fanatic of some sort.” I could see her brain working as she stared at the screen still. “I know what you mean about the look of it… kind of seems tropical. South America is a massive producer of roses and their climate would suggest a healthier flower given the hot, damp conditions. However, even though international travel has improved so much… how would they have got it to you in one piece? I’m guessing here… but you just never know. Whoever this admirer is, he or she’s got it bad. They went to a lot of trouble, didn’t they?”

“He, oh it has to be a he!” I laughed. “I hope so anyway.”

She snapped her fingers and raised a brow. “You’d think men send more flowers, wouldn’t you? Well, they don’t. Women do. Trust me, they do. Girlfriends to girlfriends, daughters to mothers, friends to enemies even. I have women who send their husbands and boyfriends flowers. I even have a woman who asks me to send her hairdresser flowers, every Friday.” She talked so excitedly, she was out of breath. Should I have told her I was a showbiz reporter, not a criminal investigator out to catch the rose thief? “I guess flowers brighten an office or a workspace… you know? I think you’d be surprised just how many women order flower deliveries.”

Seemingly, I was getting an education. I played along. “You think I am overlooking a possible suspect?”

“A man would want you to know he’d sent ’em, surely? Otherwise, why bother? A woman, well, she might want to confuse you. Or remind you. Often why women send flowers to the partner’s workplaces.”

I nodded, impressed. I held out my hand. “Good to meet you, I didn’t catch your name…?”

“Lisa,” she said, her rough hand shaking mine. She was still chilled from arranging flowers all morning, no doubt.

“I should buy you a coffee sometime, if I am passing by again.”

“Oh, yeah, do!”

I left feeling I had made her day. She’d certainly made mine.

A woman? Could be…

THE British Airways plane outside the Heathrow terminal looked huge. I’d never flown before. How something that size could get itself in the sky, I didn’t want to know!

Trevor was with me and there were a few of us from other departments, including a guy from Images called Jeff. We’d gotten friendly in the airport bar, Jeff and I, and he was still sat by my side. Thankfully he wasn’t sitting next to me on the plane. I wanted my own time to think and breathe during the flight. (He was a little too talkative!)

“You know Cai, don’t you?” He breezed that into the convo, though I’d wondered when he was going to bring it up.

“I do, yes,” I responded, trying to hide my reaction. Even the mention of his name made me blush.

“You should visit his gallery while we’re in New York.”

“He did mention he had a gallery. He said it was undergoing refurbishments.”

Jeff’s brow cocked in a knowing, asexual fashion. “Heard it’s just opened with his first show. Might be worth a shot… see if he’s really as barmy as they all reckon.”

Even though I’d tried to get Cai out of my head, I had heard this same news. It had already crossed my mind I should pay the place a visit. Strangely, since he’d left London and never returned, pictures of him with women on his arm had ceased. There were always the gay rumours, but they were rumours after all.

I turned in my seat to face Jeff, who had a wife and three kids back home, so he told me earlier after getting his wallet photos out. “What was Cai like to work with?”

Jeff considered. “If I am honest, he was hard to work with. The guy takes it all far too seriously but he’s got talent, no doubt. Nobody will give him a contract though… he’s just too unpredictable… flying off all the time. He likes to come and go as he pleases. Interesting character, I suppose.”

“I don’t think I’ll see him again,” I decided, a hand under my chin. “I got the feeling Jennifer likes screwing with his head.”

I sensed we were so close to boarding and time was running out.

“Like I said, pay a visit to his gallery, see what you think…” Jeff looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t get chance—the stewards called us to board.

While we queued I took out my phone and looked at Cai’s website, which was cool and professional. His work looked good, even on my tiny screen. I found his bio and when a picture of him stared back at me too, my heart galloped. I had a flashback of his mouth on mine and covered my lips quickly, like people nearby might know what I was thinking! I created a new message and tagged his phone number, hoping he might still be using the same one:

Cai, I’m in New York this coming week. Can you show me around? I’d love it if you would. Chloe.

I didn’t get a response between sending and boarding, then switching off my phone as the aircraft took off down the runway. It didn’t matter, though. For some reason I knew Cai and I would see one another again. I’d always known it.

I’D never flown before. Yet the clouds thought it prudent to make our journey the worst encounter of my life. At some point during the flight the seatbelt lights went on and I thought we were crash landing. Turned out, it was just turbulence. But hey, it was pretty bad. Without belts on, we’d have surely been hitting the ceiling. What a first experience of air travel, hey?