I'll Keep You Safe

Chapter Ten

Niamh was looking at herself in the mirror, barely able to recognize the pale waif who stared back at her with bloodshot, shadowed eyes, when the knock came at the door. Her hair was still wet from the shower, and hanging in corkscrews around her face. It was not a face she wanted to present to the world, but the damage was done, and it would be a long time in repair.

She had no idea what to expect when she opened the door, heart hammering in a kind of dread anticipation. Lee stood there in the gloom of the hallway, and she was still surprised by how tall he was. He had put on weight. There was grey now in his hair, which to his credit he was not trying to hide. The suggestion of a goatee which had played around his jaw when they first met had developed into a full-grown beard, perhaps to disguise a burgeoning double chin. He was, for Lee, very conservatively dressed. A three-piece suit, white shirt, dark tie. Perhaps he had felt it more appropriate given the circumstances.

He stepped into the room without invitation and wrapped his arms around her. ‘Oh, my darling Niamh, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.’ And to her embarrassment, unexpected tears bubbled up like water in a hot spring, and he held her even more tightly as she sobbed in his embrace.

He took her hand then and led her to the bed, where they sat together on the edge of it, side by side. She wiped away the tears with the flat of her hand. It was all so ironic somehow that Lee should be the first to offer his condolences.

He said, ‘I read all about it in the papers when I flew in this morning. I saw a piece on the TV news last night about the explosion in the square, but I had no idea then that it was Ruairidh.’ He squeezed her hand and put his other arm around her. ‘I just had to come over. You know how I always felt about you, Niamh. You and me, we had something very special.’

They sat in silence for some moments. Niamh had no idea what to say.

‘I... I just wanted to say how sorry I am for what happened back in the day,’ Lee finally blurted. ‘We were so young. And stupid.’ He shook his head. ‘I should have made it up to you a long time ago.’ He paused. ‘As it turned out, Ruairidh did me a favour. If I’d got that job with Givenchy it would have been like strapping myself into a straitjacket. As it was, I put all my energies into my own company, which I probably wouldn’t have done. And the Blunt brand wouldn’t have been what it is today. In a way, I’ve got Ruairidh to thank for all that.’ She was staring into her lap, but aware of his head turning towards her. ‘What happened?’

She shrugged listlessly. ‘Someone wanted him dead. Probably both of them. The police think it’s murder.’

There was shock in Lee’s voice. ‘But why?’

‘Apparently they were having an affair.’

Now astonishment. ‘Ruairidh and Irina?’

She nodded.

‘I can’t believe it. Why on earth would Ruairidh choose that little Russian mouse over you? It’s not possible.’

‘The police think that Irina’s husband, Georgy, probably planted the bomb. An act of jealous revenge.’

‘They’ve got him for it?’

She shook her head. ‘No. He’s gone missing.’

‘Oh, my darling.’ He put both arms around her again. ‘My poor, poor darling. This is so horrible for you. And I still can’t believe it. What was Ruairidh thinking? If you were mine I would never have let you go.’

From the depths of her wretchedness, Niamh somehow managed to find a smile. ‘I think, Lee, if I were to be yours I’d need something a little more between my legs.’

Which elicited a roar of laughter. ‘Oh. My. God. Niamh. you are...’ He shook his head. ‘Impossible. I’m lost for words.’ He stood up, suddenly, still holding her hand. ‘Let me take you home. I’ve got an executive rental jet at Orly. I can fly you back to the island.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘I’m not allowed to leave Paris.’

Frown lines carved themselves deeply between his eyes. ‘Why?’

She sighed. ‘The investigation is ongoing. At first they thought I might have done it. And I might still be a suspect.’

‘Well, that’s just ridiculous. Anyone who knows you, knows you couldn’t possibly have done such a thing.’

She looked up at him. ‘Really? Who knows what anyone is capable of in the right, or wrong, circumstances?’ Her eyes turned down again. ‘And, anyway, I can’t leave without Ruairidh.’

His frown deepened. ‘Ruairidh?’ Then it dawned on him, and his face dissolved into sympathy. ‘Oh, yes. Of course.’ He hesitated awkwardly. ‘How long will they keep him?’

She shook her head, fighting the urge to weep again. ‘God knows. I suppose there are things they have to do. A post-mortem. Lab testing. DNA.’ She didn’t even want to think about it.

‘Well,’ he said. And he took her other hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘You might not be allowed to leave Paris, but you certainly don’t have to be stuck here in some awful hotel room. I’m going to take you out on the town. Anywhere you want to go. Anywhere you’d like to eat.’

She breathed her despondency at him. ‘I don’t think I want to go anywhere or eat anything ever again, Lee.’

‘Oh nonsense. Dwelling on it all is only going to make it worse. The first thing we need to do is take your mind off things. And I’m the very one to do that.’

She shook her head. ‘No, I couldn’t, Lee. I can’t.’

‘Nonsense! I’ve got a car waiting downstairs. Put a face on. I’m taking you out of here.’

It was early evening by the time Lee returned Niamh to her hotel. The square had reopened now, she noticed, windows in the Café Fluctuat Nec Mergitur had been replaced and the tables set out around it were full of young people sipping at pre-dinner aperitifs. A kind of defiant return to normality. It took no time, it seemed, for new skin to grow over fresh wounds, even if those wounds still ran deep beneath the surface. On the face of it, nothing had happened the night before. Parisian nightlife continued as it always does. Only the line of police vehicles and the armed officers who stood around in groups, still smoking, betrayed the nervousness of a city that had seen too many of its citizens violently murdered in these last few years.

The only thing that had changed from this same time the previous evening was that two people were dead. They would never play a part in the return to normalcy. Neither would Niamh. Her world could never be the same again.

Lee’s driver dropped her off at the door of the Crowne Plaza. Lee kissed her and hugged her goodbye on the back seat and promised to call very soon. She slipped out into the warm evening air and made her way stiffly towards her own reflection. It divided in front of her to let her through and into the lobby.

He had taken her to lunch in a Michelin-starred restaurant where she had eaten very little, turning down all Lee’s offers of champagne, only to watch him quaff a whole bottle himself and become more loquacious by the glass.

The rest of the afternoon had passed in a blur of Lee’s drunkenness. A wine bar somewhere, all glass and steel, and disturbing reflections of Niamh everywhere she looked. Lee had ordered more wine, but Niamh could only bring herself to drink Badoit. Vincent Dancer, she remembered Lee saying as he raised his glass for the umpteenth time, but wasn’t sure if that was the barman or the winemaker. It was as if he were drowning her sorrows for her.

He told her he wanted to use Ranish Tweed again for his next collection. Something different this time. Classier. An appeal to the country set. But she couldn’t have cared less. Ranish meant only one thing to her. Ruairidh. And he was gone.

She slipped the electronic key in the door of her club room and was shocked as it swung open to reveal her bedroom filled with flowers. A profusion of roses, and colourful sprays of other seasonal blooms, in bouquets and arrangements set into hand-woven baskets. They were on the bed and the floor, on the settee and the dresser. Each had a card attached to it, every one of them signed by Lee. Which brought a tearful smile to her face. What on earth was she going to do with them?

She cleared a space on the bed and sat down, trying to think clearly. There were things she needed to do, that she had used the excuse of Lee simply to avoid. The immediate family knew about Ruairidh’s death, and no doubt others were learning about it from the newspapers and the news bulletins which had been running all day on TV. But she knew it was her responsibility to let everyone else know. She would compose a standard, unemotional account of events and email it to her address list.

It took some minutes for her to summon the strength to stand up and retrieve her iPad from the safe.

It wasn’t there. But she knew she’d put it safely away. Just before she had left with Lee. The safe seemed ominously dark in its emptiness at the bottom of the wardrobe. She stood up and looked around the room. Maybe she just wasn’t thinking straight. Maybe she’d put it somewhere else after all. It was difficult to see with these flowers everywhere.

She called reception and asked for someone to come and take them away. Perhaps they could be donated to someone, or something. A hospital. An old folks home. The girl at reception said they would take care of it.

Then minutes later they were gone, and the room seemed very empty. But there was still no sign of the iPad. Now she noticed, too, that items of clothing and make-up that she had left on the dressing table had been moved. Perhaps by the people who had delivered the flowers. But she was starting to get spooked. The iPad was gone. Someone must have been in her room and taken it.

The phone rang and she shut her eyes in something close to despair. She really didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. But the insistent trill of it bored its way into her resolve and she eventually snatched the receiver. ‘Yes?’

She waited. There was no response. Perhaps whoever was calling had already hung up. But, no. There was someone at the other end of the line. She could hear them breathing. Now she was alarmed.

‘Hello? Who is this?’ Still nothing. ‘For God’s sake!’ And she slammed the receiver back in its cradle.

Now, for the very first time, it was fear that kicked in.

She locked and chained the door and went into the bathroom to grab a glass tooth mug. Then out again to the room, where she crouched to open the refrigerated minibar. The door pocket was jammed full of spirit miniatures. Whisky, gin, vodka... She tossed them all on to the bed, then sat down beside them. The temptation was strong to work her way through the lot until she lost consciousness. But she knew she would only regret it, and the only way she knew now to keep Ruairidh close was by feeling the pain of losing him.

With a wide arc of her arm she swept them all off the bed and on to the floor.