Good at Games (33 page)

At seven o'clock the following Wednesday, Suzy was working her way through a pile of paperwork when Martin called into the office on his way home, to drop off a set of keys.

“What a waste of time that was.” Sighing, he chucked the keys into a drawer, unwound the scarf from around his neck, and perched on the edge of Suzy's desk.

He'd shown a married couple a stunning house in Harley Place, Suzy remembered. She looked up. “They didn't like it?”

“Oh, they liked it all right. Just can't afford it. Bloody tourists. What I need's a drink. Join me?”

“No thanks.”

Martin said sympathetically, “How's your day been?”

Suzy threw down her pen and stretched. “My day? Well, what can I tell you? My life is currently unbelievably awful, the papers are full of stories about how I've been dumped by Harry the Hero in favor of a walking, talking brainless little sex toy, my sister's vanished off the face of the earth… Basically, my day has been shit.”

“You could definitely do with a drink.”

Suzy shook her head. “No, really. I'm not in the mood.”

Reaching for her hand, Martin pulled her upright. The next moment, he'd grabbed her black velvet coat and pushed her arms into it. Standing in front of her like a grown-up with a recalcitrant child, he began to fasten the buttons. “You're miserable. I'm miserable. Maybe we could cheer each other up.”

Suzy, who never ever fastened the buttons on her coat—how
sweet
—smiled at his logic. “Then again, we could form a suicide pact. End it all, together in my car, with a pipe attached to the exhaust.”

“You must be joking.” Martin looked shocked. “I've seen the cassettes you keep in your car. There's no way I'm going to die listening to New Kids on the Block.”

Suzy laughed and he gave her a hug.

“See?” said Martin. “Feeling better already. I mean it; you and I could be good together. We just need to give each other a chance.”

* * *

Viewed from the road outside, the glass-fronted office was lit up like a Christmas tree. Nothing was left to the imagination. Leo, who had been reading about Suzy's humiliating situation and had decided to drop by to see how she was holding up, observed the goings-on in Curtis and Co. with a we-are-not-amused look on his face.

Next to him, in the front seat of the car, Baxter belatedly recognized Suzy and made a violent lunge for the door, scrabbling at the handle in his eagerness to rush over and give her a huge I-still-love-you welcome.

Leo barely noticed. He was watching with mounting horror as Martin Lord cupped Suzy's face in his hands. Any second now and he'd be kissing her…

The number of the office was still stored on his cell phone. Rapidly, Leo pressed the appropriate buttons. At least he hoped they were the right buttons; it was hard to tell in the dark.

At last he heard the ringing tone. A moment later—
yes!
—the phone rang in the office across the road. He saw Suzy take a step backward and say something to Martin. Reaching behind her, she picked up the phone.

Leo knew this was the moment he should hang up, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Some inner compulsion made him wait to hear Suzy's voice. They hadn't spoken to each other for weeks.

“Hello? Curtis and Co.”

Baxter, his big hairy ears pricking up, let out a delighted
woof
!

Too late, Leo hung up.

Damn, what was the matter with him? He was behaving like a teenager.

* * *

“Gone,” said Suzy, with a frown.

“Who was it?” Not that Martin cared.

“No one.” Suzy shrugged. “A dog just barked, then the line went dead.”

Thanks a lot, dog
, thought Martin, who had been about to make his big move. Somehow the opportunity—and Suzy—now appeared to have slipped out of reach.

Canine interruptus, just his luck.

“Hey, are we going to have that drink?” He grinned and spread his hands, attempting to recapture the moment, but it was too late. Suzy was already reaching for her car keys and looking distracted. “It's OK,” Martin added eagerly. “I'll drive.”

Suzy realized she was thinking of Leo. Probably because hearing that dog barking had reminded her of Baxter.

“Thanks, but I'll pass. Maeve's making one of her roasts, and Jaz has challenged us both to a game of Trivial Pursuit.”

“Now that's what I call an action-packed social life. Sa-ad,” Martin jeered.

Outside, in the pitch-blackness, a car was pulling away up the street. Suzy, wrapping her thick silver and white scarf around her neck and heading for the door, decided that Martin wasn't so sweet after all.

“Doesn't sound sad to me,” she said lightly. “Night.”

* * *

“Fee called? Really? When? How is she? Did she say she'd call again?”

Donna, bemused, had only mentioned Fee's phone call in passing. She hadn't been expecting quite such an interrogation.

“Er, no. It was just a quick call to say hi, and that she hopes to be back in Bristol soon. She called five minutes ago.”

I am the unluckiest man in the world
, Rory decided
. If I hadn't been stuck in traffic on Queen's Road, I could have taken that call.

Eagerly, he said, “Did she sound OK?”

Donna shrugged. “Fine. Asked how everyone was. I told her we were all fine. She wanted a word with Suzy, but I said she was out of the office.”

“Here she is now!” Rory exclaimed, leaping out of his chair as the familiar pillar-box red Rolls slid expertly into its allotted parking space outside the office.

“But Fee's already hung up.” Donna gave him a worried look. That was the trouble with these people who worked too hard; all of a sudden they could flip and go completely bonkers. “Rory, would you like me to make you a nice cup of tea?”
Preferably decaf.

An icy blast of air swirled around Donna as the door was pushed open and a middle-aged West Indian woman entered the office. Tall and stylish, she was thoroughly wrapped up against the bitter November cold. Glancing first at Rory, then at Donna, she said, “Ah, out of luck by the looks of things. I was hoping to have a word with Suzy Curtis…I believe she works here?”

“Actually, you're in luck,” Donna told her. “Suzy's just pulled up outside. Who shall I say—”

“Suzy!” Rory pounced as she came through the door. “Perfect timing! Fee called, wanting to speak to you. Now you can call her back!”

“My name's Merle,” the woman told Donna, her voice low-pitched and melodic. “If she could just spare me five minutes, I'd be grateful.”

“Suzy, this is—”

“Suzy! Call her now.” Rory's gray eyes behind his wire-rimmed glasses were bright with urgency.

“It's OK.” Suzy took off her coat, wondering what had happened to make him so jumpy. “I'll call her tonight.”

“Why not now?”

“Because there's no hurry, and I'll have more time later. And,” she continued patiently, “you're the one who's always whining on about irresponsible people making private calls on company time.”

With an air of desperation, Rory spread his arms wide and almost shouted, “Honestly, feel free, I don't
mind
.”

“
So
sorry about this.” Donna rolled her heavily kohled eyes at Merle. “She'll be with you in just a sec, I promise. Rory, don't you have to be at that appraisal on Pitch and Pay Lane by two o'clock? Because if you keep the client waiting, Slade and Matthews will be around there with their electronic tape measures quicker than you can say ‘lost sale.'”

“I'm going, I'm going,” Rory muttered. Suzy clearly had no intention of making the phone call now. Crikey, it wasn't too much to ask, was it? Just to be in the same room while Suzy chatted to Fee on the phone?

“He's in a funny mood about something.” Mystified, Suzy gazed after Rory as he stomped out of the office.

“Suzy, this lady would like to speak to you.”

“In private?” said Merle with an almost apologetic smile.

More mystery. Unless…Suzy caught her breath.

“Is this to do with Lucille?”

Calmly, Merle replied, “It concerns her, yes.”

The tiny back room where they made tea and coffee was cramped and chairless. At that moment the front door was flung open again and a bundled-up family of four burst in. Any form of privacy here was going to be in woefully short supply.

“Look, I know it's freezing,” said Suzy, “but we'd be better off out of here. We could go for a walk, or”—much better idea—“there's a coffee shop around the corner.”

“Let's walk,” Merle said comfortably. “Clifton's so beautiful. And it's years since I last visited the bridge.”

Together they headed down Princess Victoria Street, toward the Avon Gorge Hotel. Suzy, fidgeting with the fringed ends of her silver-and-white angora scarf, shot surreptitious glances at Merle's elegant legs as she strolled along, to see if they resembled Lucille's.

Finally, unable to stand the suspense a moment longer, she blurted out, “Are you her aunt?”

Merle raised a plucked eyebrow. “Whose? Lucille's?”

“She didn't tell me she had an aunt, but I can't think who else you might be. Was William Amory your brother?”

As she said it, Suzy realized the possibilities were endless. This woman, Merle, was, at a guess, in her midfifties. She could have been William Amory's sister, or his cousin. Or even—blimey—his
wife
.

“I'm not related to Lucille,” Merle told her with a smile. “I was a good friend of your mother's.”

Suzy blinked. She definitely hadn't been expecting this. “
My
mother's?”

“That's right. Blanche.”

Calmly, Merle nodded at Suzy. “This was many years ago, of course. We lived across the street from each other. Well, I suppose I should say I lived across the street from William and Lucille, but Blanche and I became close all the same.”

Oh, good grief
, thought Suzy, startled.
I really hope you're not going to tell me you were my mother's lesbian lover.

“We had no secrets from each other,” Merle went on. “She confided in me, and I confided in her. I was involved with a married man at the time, so between the pair of us we had plenty to talk about. And we didn't judge each other, which made a nice change.”

Suzy blinked. Heavens, she was almost afraid to ask. “So…who were you having an affair with?”

Not my father,
please
.

“Oh, no one you'd have heard of. Just one of the professors at the university.” With a rueful smile, Merle said, “I'm afraid I was a bit of a scarlet woman in my day. Anyway, to bring matters up to date, I've been living in Switzerland for the past five years. I only moved back here a couple of weeks ago. So when I saw the story in the papers last week about Harry Fitzallan I was interested, because of course I'd known his family too, living as they did next door to William and Lucille.” She paused. “You can imagine my amazement when I realized that the article I was reading was all about Harry breaking off his engagement to
you
.”

Suzy's nose was pink with cold. Every lungful of air she sucked in came out again as a puffball of condensation. Knowing she was being ridiculous, but too proud to let it pass, she said, “Actually,
I
was the one who broke off the engagement.”

Merle looked as if she was trying hard not to smile.

Indignantly, Suzy insisted, “It's
true
.”

“Don't worry, I believe you. Harry always did have an eye for publicity.” As they turned right and began to head up the hill toward the bridge, Merle said, “When he was eight, he found my cat. It had gone missing, and I was terrified it might have been run over. I gave Harry a five-pound reward, and he persuaded some guy from the
Bristol Journal
to come around and take his photo. It wasn't until a week later that his brother Leo turned up on my doorstep to return the fiver. Apparently, he'd found out that Harry was the one who'd kidnapped my cat in the first place and hidden it in his dad's garage. Do you know Leo?” Merle said suddenly. “Harry's elder brother?”

“Oh yes.” Suzy, breathing deeply, was glad of the ice cold air on her cheeks. “I know Leo.”

“Anyway, I was intrigued, naturally. And even more so when I saw one particular photograph in the paper. It was taken on the night of Harry's accident,” Merle explained. “You were arriving at the hospital to see him for the first time, no shoes on, looking pretty distraught…”

“I remember
that
night.” Suzy spoke with feeling. As if she could ever forget.

“And there, turning up at the hospital with you, was Lucille. I recognized her at once and realized the two of you had found each other.” Merle glanced across at Suzy and smiled sadly. “The first thing I did was call Blanche's number—I couldn't wait to tell her how thrilled I was that it had all turned out so well. Of course, that was when I found out she'd recently died. The girl who answered the phone told me.”

Girl. She meant Gabriella, Suzy realized.

“It was a heart attack. In her sleep.”

“Poor Lucille. She must have been devastated. Of course,” Merle added hastily, “you both must.”

Suzy, changing the subject, said, “Leo Fitzallan bought the house. That was his fiancée you spoke to on the phone.”

“Really? She told me that if I wanted to contact any of Blanche's children, to call you at Curtis and Co. But I needed to speak to you face-to-face. I'd love to see Lucille as well, if she's around.”

They had reached the knoll leading up to the bridge. The grass, stiff with frost, crunched beneath Suzy's deeply impractical Kurt Geiger high heels. Pushing her hair back from her face with frozen fingers, she said, “Lucille isn't around at the moment. She's…gone away.”

Merle looked surprised. “Do you not get on?”

“No… I mean yes, we do, like a house on fire, but she just needed a break.”
From me
, Suzy thought miserably.
Because I'm such an idiot. I drove her away. And now I don't know if she'll ever want to come back.

“A break?”

“It was all my fault,” Suzy mumbled, bitterly ashamed.

“Blanche was always so sure the two of you would get on marvelously.” Merle's voice was gentle. “She must have been thrilled.”

Oh Lord, more explanations. As they trudged on up toward St. Vincent's Rocks and the Observatory, Suzy ran through the events of Blanche's funeral, Lucille's unexpected arrival, and the subsequent will reading.

When she had finished, Merle nodded easily and said, “That's exactly how Blanche guessed Julia would react. Oh now, will you look at that view? Can you imagine a more beautiful sight? Here, I brought something along for you and Lucille. And Julia too, if you think she'd be interested. Ah, the sun's beginning to come out. Why don't we sit down on that bench over there? I'll admire the scenery, and you can have a quick look through these.”

As she spoke, Merle removed a bundle of letters from her bag and handed them over to Suzy.

“No red ribbon. Not love letters then,” Suzy joked, twanging the unromantic rubber band holding them together.

“Actually, you'd be surprised,” said Merle, settling herself on the frosty wooden bench and pulling her coat more tightly around her. “They sound pretty much like love letters to me.”

After the first few minutes, Suzy forgot Merle was there. Only when she sniffed loudly for the umpteenth time and a wad of tissues was surreptitiously pressed into her hand did she remember she wasn't alone on the bench.

Blanche's familiar black scrawl covered page after page of cobalt-blue writing paper. The letter Suzy was currently reading had been written fifteen years ago. Snippets of sentences jumped out at her, heartbreaking in their intensity.

Oh, Merle, I don't know how I'm going to cope—I love
all
my children so much. When I look at darling Suzy, and then Lucille, how
can
I choose between them? If I tried to leave Ralph, I know he'd fight for custody—and win, of course. The thought of losing my beloved babies is unbearable. It would kill me to be without them. So here I am, stuck in eternal limbo… My children are my whole life, but what can I
do
?

“Oh God,” Suzy whispered, the words swimming hopelessly before her eyes. “I never knew. I just never knew. I thought
we
were the ones making her unhappy.”

“Not you,” said Merle. “Your father.”

“But if she left him, she knew she'd lose us?”

Merle nodded. “She was torn. It was agonizing for her. I thought
I
had troubles,” she added wryly, “but mine were nothing compared with Blanche's.”

“She could have told us the truth after Dad died.” Even as she said it, Suzy knew what the answer to this would be. She and Lucille had already worked it out.

“Blanche knew it would destroy Julia.” Merle shrugged. “She was tempted to tell you but knew you'd never be able to keep it to yourself.”

Suzy shook her head. “I wish she'd trusted me. Maybe I'm better with secrets than people think.”

“Then again”—Merle's tone was affectionate—“correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the girl who jumped up in assembly one day and announced to the rest of the school that Father Christmas didn't exist?”

Suzy flushed and said indignantly, “That was when I was six!”

“Exactly. And so was the rest of your class.” Merle, trying not to smile, said, “It's called tarnishing your reputation in a major way. According to Blanche, you had many talents, but discretion was never your forte.”

Suzy wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and heaved a gusty sigh.

“This makes such a difference, you know. Reading these letters, talking to you about how Mum felt. Really, you have no idea how much better I feel now.”

“Well, I'm awfully glad to hear it,” said Merle with a grin. “Because you look an absolute sight.”

Suzy held up the bundle of letters. “Can I have these?”

“Of course. I could never bear to throw them away. You'll show them to Lucille, will you?”

If I ever find her
, thought Suzy.

Aloud she said, “I'll do my best.”

* * *

As they made their way back down Sion Hill, Merle said, “Well, you're looking better now, I must say.”

“You've cheered me up. The past few weeks have been pretty diabolical. You can't imagine.” With a rueful smile, Suzy shoved her icy hands deep inside her coat pockets. “I used to think I was the girl with everything, but recently, I've managed to make a complete mess of my life.”

Merle looked amused. “No new man lined up to take Harry's place?”

“Nope.”

“What, no one? Sparky girl like you? Come on now, there must be some gorgeous fellow you've got your eye on.”

“No,” said Suzy, shaking her head and thinking,
If only you knew.

But as much as she liked Merle, there was no way she could bring herself to tell her that the only man currently capable of making her heart beat like a Salvation Army drum was Leo Fitzallan.

Because Leo wasn't the least bit interested in her. And, in all honesty, why would he want to be? He was already taken, thanks very much. About to marry Gabriella, the girl who—let's face it—really
did
have everything.

Including—damn,
damn
and blast—Leo.