Beautiful Liar (21 page)

“Go to the front desk and they'll order you a cab,” Alex said. “This takes precedence.”

Lavinia pouted and sulked all the way down in the lift. Once she'd got out at reception, Alex and I headed to the underground car park and his silver Porsche.

“Where're we going?” he asked once we were in the car.

I gave him the address of Hayfield Court. It had been my first instinct—I was almost certain April would go back to our old home.

Alex set off without another word, swinging the car round to take the main road. He sped along, pushing the speed limit, not bothering to make small talk, aware of the urgency of the task and my all-consuming fear.

Fortunately the London streets were pretty much deserted, apart from the odd delivery van or cab, so we had a clean run through. A police car roared up, siren on, and Alex lifted his foot off the accelerator until it passed. I could only wonder where the police car was going to—what if it was to identify the body of a young girl? I pushed the thought away.

Alex glanced over. He seemed to read my mind, because he reached out to give my knee a reassuring squeeze. “Try not to worry. If she's anything like her big sister, she'll be able to take care of herself.”

It took no time at all to reach East London. As the area got less salubrious, I could sense Alex looking around, getting a sense for where I came from.

Finally we turned into Hayfield Court.

“This is where you lived?” Alex said, frowning.

“Yes.” For a moment, I could see the place through his eyes—the soulless tower blocks and graffiti-covered walls—and felt defensive. “It's not that bad.”

Alex didn't make any comment.

He pulled up, and I jumped out of the car, saw the
Out of Order
sign was still on the lift, and headed for the stairs. I glanced back, and to my surprise, Alex was right behind me.

“You might not want to leave your car unattended,” I told him.

“You think I give a damn about that?”

I took the stairs two at a time, Alex following behind me. Our flat was on the fifteenth floor, so we were both breathing hard by the time we got there. The front door had been boarded up after the fire, but there was graffiti across it, and the boards were busted where someone had broken in.

I went to go in, but Alex put a restraining arm on me.

“Let me go first.”

I stood back as he pushed the makeshift door open and stepped inside.

It was pretty much how I remembered it from the last time I'd been there, the day after the fire. The carpets were still waterlogged; the walls were stained with ash; and there was still a smell of smoke in the air. No effort had been made to clean up, and it had that feeling of being unlived in. All the utilities had been cut off, so the only light coming
through was from the other flats, making it faintly eerie.

“April?” I called out. “Sweetheart? It's me. Nina.”

There was just silence, and I wondered if I'd got it wrong and she'd run off somewhere else. But then a moment later I heard a sound from the back of the flat.

“I'm in here.”

I followed the sound of her voice through to her bedroom. Sure enough, April was there, sitting on the floor, wedged in between her bed and the desk where she used to do her homework. She looked up as I walked in, her eyes sad. She still had the cast on her left arm.

Alex appeared, and touched me on the shoulder.

“I'll be in the other room.”

Because April's room was at the back of the flat, it had been less damaged than the living area. I walked over and crouched down by my sister. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, her arms clutched tightly around them.

I had already decided there was no point giving her a lecture. Instead, I just waited for her to speak.

“I hate it there,” she said finally.

“I know you do.”

“Even without Racquel it's awful. I just want everything to be the way it was.”

“Me too.”

She looked up at me then.

“Really? Because I'm worried that your life's better—with
me in foster care.”

I was horrified that she'd even consider such a thing. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“Because for the first time you don't have to worry about me and Mum. You can go off and do what you want, without us being a burden. That's why you didn't come to meet me that time, isn't it? Because you were off having fun.”

“Oh, pet.” My eyes filled with tears. I hated to think that she felt like I'd abandoned her. “It wasn't like that. I'd just seen Mum, and I wanted to forget everything for one night.”

“Forget me, you mean?” April did nothing to disguise the sadness in her voice.

“No! That's not it at all.” I grasped her arms so she could see how serious I was. “You mean everything to me. And to Mum, too. I don't know what I'd have done if something had happened to you tonight. And I'm trying to get you back, I promise. I'm sorry if you don't think I'm doing a good job of it. But all I want is for us all to be home together again, I swear—”

My voice cracked then, and I broke down. I could sense how stunned April was. I doubt she'd seen me cry for years. After Dad's death, I'd tried to keep my feelings locked away, and not show any weakness.

Seeing my tears must have given her a jolt. Because she threw her arms around me.

“Oh, Nina, I'm sorry.” Her arms tightened around my neck. “I didn't
mean to upset you. I didn't think about how you'd feel. Please don't cry.”

I closed my eyes and held her to me. It felt good to have her there, and it made me realise once again how much I'd missed her.

We hugged for a long time, until I reluctantly pulled away and gazed at April. Her hair was messed up, and I smoothed it down with my thumb.

“You know there are people out looking for you. I'm going to have to call Maggie and tell her that I've found you.” I bit my lip, worried about what April's reaction to my next words would be. “I know you don't want to hear this, but you're going to have to go back there—for a little while longer at least.”

“I know.”

I'd expected a fight, but instead my sister seemed resigned to her fate. Obviously seeing how upset I was about the situation had helped her realise that she needed to be more stoical. But there was one last thing I needed to know before sending her back.

“But you have to tell me now—is there a particular reason why you ran away?” I said. “Because if there's anything going on that shouldn't be, so help me—”

But April was already shaking her head. “No, it's not like that. They're not beating or abusing me or anything like that.”

“Then what's the problem?”

April shrugged. “It's just not home. It's not family. I want to be back with you and Mum.”

Her simple explanation made me want to cry all over again. But there was no point.

“I know,” I said instead. “I get that you want us all back together. I want that, too. And I'm trying to make it happen.”

I hugged my sister again. It was so frustrating. I couldn't help feeling like a failure. April was the one suffering most in this situation, and I should have been the one to protect her. I needed to try harder to get us all back together, that much was clear—even if it meant finding a way to be closer to our mother.

* * *

I called Maggie and April's foster mother, Denise, to let them know that I'd found my sister. Then Alex offered to drive April back to the foster home.

April was impressed by his Porsche, but even more impressed by Alex. I could see her blush as he shook her hand.

“I'm Alex,” he said. “Alex Noble.”

I winced as he gave her his full name. While she was too young to remember the Noble family, the last thing I needed was her mentioning him to my mother.

But Alex's name seemed to be the least of my sister's concerns.

“Is that your boyfriend?” she whispered to me as we got into the car.

“No,” I said firmly, aware that he could hear every word she was saying. I hesitated over how to explain who he was. “He's . . . he's a friend. Someone I met through work.”

Unfortunately she wasn't letting it go.

“But he must like you if he drove you around tonight,” she said, once we were out of the car.

I didn't say anything.

“And if he likes you—and you
must
like him—then what's the problem?”

Again, I stayed silent.

“So it's you then?” she said as we got to the front door of the foster home. April stopped, and turned to me. “Look, I know you've had it hard with Mum. I know you find it hard to trust anyone, because she's always let you down—”

“But you've had all that, too.”

“No. It's different for me. I had you. You always remembered my birthday and helped me with my homework. You were the constant when she wasn't.” I stared at her in disbelief. I'd thought all these years that she hadn't been aware of how much I was doing—or that she'd just accepted it as normal. It was a shock to realise she'd known exactly what was going on. “I'm just saying don't let that stop you being with this Alex if you want to. I know you think you're
protecting yourself if you don't let anyone in, but that's kind of a sad way to go through life. At some point you have to trust someone—even if you risk them hurting you. And deep down you must trust Alex, because you wouldn't have let him help you find me otherwise.”

With those wise words, she turned and knocked on the door.

I'd thought it would be hard dropping her back there. I'd worried that she would break down and beg me to take her with me. But the events of the evening seemed to have calmed her and made her stronger, resigned to the fact that it was going to take a while to resolve the situation. Or maybe having seen how upset I was, she was finally convinced that I was trying my best to sort something out so we could all be back together. And that's why she didn't make a fuss.

Alex drove us back to Knightsbridge in silence. It was still dark, and the events of the night churned through my mind as we sped through the rain-covered streets.

“How are you doing over there?” Alex said finally as we neared the apartment building.

“I just hate leaving her at that place.”

It would have been easy for him to voice meaningless platitudes—to tell me that it would all be fine—but I wasn't in the mood to hear them, and he seemed to sense that.

It was nearly six in the morning by the time we stepped
into the lift. Alex pressed the button and then turned to study me. I could tell he had something he wanted to say, but wasn't sure how I would react.

“What is it?” I sounded weary even to my own ears.

“Why don't you hang out for a bit?” He held up his hands defensively, as though already sensing my suspicion. “No ulterior motive, I promise. It's just I think it would do you good to unwind. You won't sleep for a while after that.”

My instinct was to refuse, but I knew what he said was true. The adrenaline was coursing through me. And I needed to talk the events of the evening over with someone.

I followed him into the flat and through to the kitchen, sitting up at the central island as he made tea.

“I don't take sugar,” I said as he took out a packet. But he ignored me and put two heaped teaspoons in, before placing the mug in front of me.

“It's good for shock.”

I watched him as he made toast and spread it with butter and honey.

He pulled up a stool to sit opposite me and passed me the plate. I shook my head.

“I couldn't eat a thing.”

“Try. It'll do you good.”

I took a tentative bite of the toast, and found I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. Alex took a sip of his tea. There was still an awkwardness between us, and I didn't like it.

I raised my eyes to meet his.

“Look, I wanted to explain about the other night. What you saw . . . me and Giles—”

He held up his hand. “Don't worry about it. You're right. It's none of my business what you do.”

That floored me. I hadn't expected him to be so dismissive.

I didn't know what else to say. I swallowed down the rest of my tea. “Well . . . I should get to bed.”

He gave a brief nod. “Of course.”

I slipped from the stool.

“Nina.”

His voice stopped me. I took a deep breath before turning round, afraid of what he was going to say, and how I would respond. But when I looked at him, his face was impassive—closed off.

“Are you free Tuesday?” he said, all business.

I nodded. It was my night to see April, but as long as I explained and organised to see her on Monday this time, I was sure she'd be fine with me rearranging.

“Good. I've got a game that I'd like you to work. A big one. Do this, and your debt's cleared.”

Disappointment coursed through me. I wasn't sure what I'd expected him to say, but it wasn't that. I tried to put my confusing feelings to one side, and focus instead on the matter at hand.

“I
thought the games were always on Sunday.”

“Tuesday was the only night everyone could do. So,” he said after a moment, “are you able to make it?”

“I'll be there.” Then I had a thought. “And the venue?”

I saw him hesitate for a second. “That's the part you might not like. I wanted to hold it somewhere special—somewhere a bit different. I couldn't think of anywhere at first, but then I had a brainwave.”

“So where's it going to be?”

Somehow I knew what he was going to say. “At Rexley Manor. My family's country estate.”

And the place where my father died.

Alex swung the Porsche over onto the outside lane of the motorway and pressed his foot down on the accelerator. I watched the speedometer flicker up towards ninety miles per hour. Rain beat against the windshield, making it hard to see the road ahead. I looked over at Alex. There were no other cars in view, and he seemed focused and in control, but even so I felt nervous. Maybe it was because we were on our way to Rexley Manor, and I couldn't help thinking of my father and the way he'd died.