Left You Dead

98

Rebecca Watkins and Niall Paternoster sat, side by side, on a curved banquette in a corner booth of the rammed Green Dragon on Croydon High Street. Rebecca had in front of her a half-eaten plate of prawn salad and Niall a beef-and-mushroom pie. He raised his pint glass, which he had nearly drained, and clinked her glass of white wine. ‘To the future!’

‘To our future,’ she corrected.

‘To our future!’

They clinked glasses again and locked eyes. Niall’s right leg pressed tightly against her left. They were so absorbed in each other that neither of them noticed the lean woman with long hair, wearing ripped jeans and a lightweight jacket, who was standing at the bar, drinking a lime and soda and picking at a sandwich, who kept glancing in their direction and then making notes in what looked like her diary.

‘How’s your week looking?’ Rebecca asked.

‘Pretty dull — so long as I’m not rearrested for my beloved wife’s non-murder. Otherwise I’m free all week.’ He gave her a cheeky look. ‘Do you have something in mind?’

Her hand was sliding provocatively down between his legs and pressing against his crotch. ‘Hmmn, maybe,’ she said, nudging up closer to him. ‘I have the thing I’m holding in my hand very much in my mind.’

After a quick glance around, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘And I have you very much in my mind.’

She squeezed him a little harder and he gasped. ‘We have our annual sales conference this week, at the Grand in Eastbourne. Hubby’s not coming, of course, he’s away. I have to make a presentation on Thursday afternoon, then put in an appearance at the dinner — but I thought, if you’re up for it, we could have ourselves a cosy rendezvous late night after I’ve escaped.’

‘Like, your hotel room?’

She shook her head. ‘Too many work people around. I’ll have a think. Somewhere wild, crazy, deeply romantic.’

The erotic tingling inside him was so strong, Niall could barely speak. ‘I like it.’

‘I’ll text you. Late night, somewhere where there won’t be anyone around. I can put the rear seats of the Rangey flat. You bring a bottle of Prosecco and glasses?’

‘What sort of time?’

‘Whenever I can get away without being rude. Probably be near to midnight. Does that sound like a plan?’

He winced as she stroked him. ‘It sounds like a very good plan.’

‘The best plan you ever heard in your life?’

‘Even better.’

After a discreet glance around, checking there were none of her colleagues about, she kissed him on the cheek. ‘You’d better be there.’