Look Behind You (26 page)

Heat floods my cheeks.

He smiles, and my stomach flips. ‘Might have some rum somewhere as well.’

For the first time in what feels like years, I smile, too. ‘Beer is good.’

He puts the vodka back and stands up. ‘Beer it is, then.’ He grabs two bottles from the fridge, twists the caps off, and throws them in the bin before handing me one.

I take a sip. I never knew beer could taste so good. Or maybe it’s the company.

‘We can go into the lounge if you want.’

‘No, this is OK. Unless you want to?’

‘No. This is fine.’ He takes a swig of beer, his gaze on me. Today his eyes look more of a warm honey-brown colour, and I wonder why I’m even noticing that in the midst of everything going on. I don’t feel uncomfortable under his gaze as I do with Liam. I’m not watching and waiting for something to happen. Now I just feel…safe.

We sit in silence for a moment,. I look out the kitchen window to the small courtyard garden outside. A tall, whitewashed wall surrounds it, with wildflowers around the borders and a completely private decked patio area. ‘You have a nice house You’ve done a lot to it since your party.’

‘Thanks. When I moved in, it was a bit of a state. I renovated it myself.’

I’m not surprised. Jordan seems like the kind of guy who’s hands-on.

‘Have the police found out any more about Chris?’

‘I’m still waiting to hear. Chris said he was away with his Dad when I was taken.’

He scrunches up his face. ‘Well, I couldn’t believe it when I heard what had happened. If he does have an alibi, it’s a bit of a coincidence, isn’t it? His story being almost exactly like what happened to you?’

I think about all the coincidences that made me think Liam was involved, and yet he couldn’t have possibly been. ‘Coincidences seem to be following me around everywhere, but maybe it really is just another one.’ I pick at the label on the bottle then realize what I’m doing and stop abruptly. I don’t want to make a mess. ‘Sorry.’ I smooth down the label so none of it falls off onto the table.

‘Hey, no problem. Treat this place like your own while you’re here. If you want to pull off beer labels, be my guest.’ He grins. ‘It might be a good kind of stress relief.’

I laugh, and it sounds so foreign to my ears. ‘Summers is going to call me when they’ve spoken to Chris’ dad. And they’re going to do some house-to-house enquiries at Sara’s.’ I tell him everything I’ve found out since I last saw him.

‘So you know for certain now you
did
actually leave Liam, then?’

‘Yes. But Liam didn’t know. He was still in Scotland when I was kidnapped, so he must’ve really thought I’d tried to kill myself because of the letter he found when he got back and the sleeping tablets in my system.’

‘What do you think he’ll do when he finds out you’ve left now?’

‘Luckily he doesn’t know I’ve got a new phone, or he’d be ringing me constantly. He’d start off being all kind and caring and apologetic, telling me how much he loves me. Then rapidly turn into an angry drunk, and everything would be my fault. He’d be shouting, swearing, calling me all the names under the sun, wondering how I could dare to leave him. How meek and mild Chloe could ever stick up for herself.’ I take another swig of beer. ‘I can’t deal with him at the moment. I just want to be left alone to figure things out before this person comes back.’

Jordan nods in agreement, but I detect a note of sadness in his eyes, and I don’t know if that sadness is for me, for him, for bad timing.

‘The police haven’t been very helpful, but at least Summers does believe something strange happened now.’ I attempt to change the subject from getting too personal. It’s too much, too soon. ‘He thinks it’s weird that the sleeping tablets aren’t anywhere to be found.’

‘So do I. Which must mean someone gave them to you, mustn’t it? They must’ve used them to knock you out so they could abduct you.’

‘Summers said I could’ve found somewhere else to stay, and maybe that’s where I took them. In Sara’s spare bedroom, we found last week’s local paper, and I’d circled some flats for rent. Do you have a copy? Because Summers took it, and I want to have a look and see if it rings any bells. I have to prove to him somehow I didn’t take those sleeping pills. Then I can negate his theory that I hallucinated the whole abduction thing, and he’ll have to believe something more sinister happened.’

‘I don’t think I’ve thrown it out yet. Hang on.’ As he wanders out of the room, I watch his retreating back. He’s relaxed, unhurried, always cool and calm, even in a crisis. ‘Got it!’ He returns a few minutes later and sits down again.

I spread it out on the table and flip to the classified page.

‘If you had found somewhere else to live, wouldn’t you have taken your stuff that was at Sara’s?’

‘Yes, and that’s why I’m positive I didn’t move out of her house. Have you got a pen?’

He swivels in his chair to the drawer behind him, opens it, and grabs a biro. ‘One pen, madam.’ He presents it as if he’s showing me an expensive bottle of wine.

I laugh again. Wow, that’s twice in about five minutes. I hope with all my heart this was a good idea coming here. I’ve made enough mistakes in my life; I don’t want to live to regret this.

If I live.

But Jordan’s my only friend right now, so I don’t have an alternative. I put a red circle round the ones I’d marked before and swing the paper round to show him. ‘Apparently, I marked these three.’

‘Do you want to call them? See if you went there to check them out?’

‘Summers said he was going to do that, but I just feel so helpless, waiting for someone else to take control of my life. I’ve had enough of that already.
I
need to be in control for a change.’

‘I’ll get the phone. It won’t hurt to call them.’ He disappears out of the room again.

A loud slamming noise comes from the kitchen door, which makes me jump so hard I bite my tongue. I snap my head round in that direction and see it’s only a small black cat that’s charged through the cat flap. It sits in the middle of the floor, looking up at me as if wondering whether I’m friend or foe. Deciding on the former, the cat winds itself around my legs.

‘So you’ve met John, then. He’s my other roommate.’ Jordan sits back down.

‘John!’ I chuckle, reaching down to pick John up and put him on my lap. He treats me to a loud purr as he nudges his head against my hand. ‘How can you call a cat ‘John’?’

‘I don’t know.’ His lips curve into a smile. ‘He looks like a John, don’t you think?’

I raise an eyebrow. ‘How can a cat look like a John? Fluffy or Tiddles or Blacky, or something, but he definitely doesn’t look like John.’

Jordan shrugs. ‘So what should I call him, then? You choose.’

‘You can’t just rename him!’

‘Why? He won’t know the difference, will he?’

‘But don’t you call him when you want him to come in? He’ll just get confused when you give him another name.’

‘No, he pretty much comes and goes as he wants. That’s what I like about cats. They’re independent, and they come to you because they choose to, not because you make them.’ He smiles, and once again, I sense his words have a deeper meaning than the subject we’re talking about.

A jolt of heat flushes through my cheeks. I lean over and kiss John on the head so Jordan doesn’t notice.

‘Another beer?’ He nods to my bottle that I didn’t realize was empty.

‘Yes, please.’

Jordan grabs two more from the fridge and places them on the table, then waves the phone at me. ‘Do you want to call these numbers, then?’

I take a swig of beer for courage, wondering what I’m going to find out. It feels like I’m a voyeur in my own life, investigating myself when I know I haven’t done anything wrong. What will these people tell me? There’s only one way to find out, so I punch in the first number and listen to it ringing.

‘Hello?’ a deep voice answers. In the background, booming bass music plays and a fruit machine is going off.

‘Oh, hi, yes, my name’s Chloe Benson, and I’m ringing about the flat.’

‘What, again?’ he shouts over the noise.

‘Did I call before?’ My gaze flicks to Jordan, who’s looking at me with brows raised.

‘Yeah, but when I told you it was above the pub, you didn’t want it. Have you changed your mind, then? It’s still vacant.’

‘Um…no, thank you. Sorry to bother you.’ I hang up and dial the next number I’d marked. ‘Above a pub. I didn’t want it,’ I say to Jordan.

‘Hello? Can I help you?’ a male with an Indian accent answers.

‘Hi, my name’s Chloe Benson, and I’m ringing about the flat advertised in the paper.’

‘I’m sorry, it’s been rented.’

‘OK, but…um…do you remember whether I called before?’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t remember. I spoke to a lot of people on the phone.’

‘Right. So do you remember if I came over and looked at it, then?’

‘No, you couldn’t have done. The first person who looked took it.’

‘OK. Well, thanks for your help.’ I hang up and sigh. ‘Third time lucky,’ I say to Jordan and ring the last number I’d circled.

‘Yeah?’ a woman answers the phone. I think she’s chewing gum, judging by the lip-smacking sound.

‘Oh, hi, I’m ringing about the flat for rent.’

‘Yeah, it’s taken, I’m afraid. Someone rented it the day before the advert came out in the local. Sorry, it was too late to stop it.’

‘Right. Well, thanks for your help.’

‘No problem.’

I lean back in the chair, shoulders slumping. John rubs his head under my chin for another stroke, and I oblige.

‘No luck, then?’ Jordan says. ‘You didn’t go and see any of them?’

‘No.’

‘Don’t worry, Chloe.’ He lays a hand on mine with a tenderness that makes my throat clench. As soon as he touches me, his warmth spreads over my chilled skin. ‘We’ll figure it out. You’ve gone through some terrible things, but whatever happened, we can find out together. I just want to help you.’

The air suddenly feels charged, heavy with all the words he’s not saying. The things I know he feels for me. And I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can handle someone being so nice to me right now. It might make me fall apart, and I have to stay strong.

28

Jordan is chopping onions, mushrooms, peppers, and garlic. He bites his lower lip as he concentrates, a clean tea towel hanging casually out the back pocket of his jeans, looking completely at home in the kitchen. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, he catches me watching him. ‘What?’ His lips quirk up.

‘You cook.’

‘Yes.’

‘You cook, and you own a cat.’

He laughs. It’s deep and throaty and carefree. The sounds ripples through me, and I realize I want to hear more of it. ‘Is there a law that says a man can’t cook
and
own a cat?’ He waves the knife he’s been using at me, but it’s not threatening. Not when his eyes sparkle with laugher like that.

I’m about to tell him that it’s nice. It’s…refreshing. Liam wouldn’t cook a meal; that was my job. And he’d probably kick a cat if he saw it. He hated how they’d always use our garden as a toilet. He even put cayenne pepper all over the grass and borders once to try to get rid of them. He was livid when a sudden breeze blew some of it in his eye as he was dispersing it. It didn’t deter the cats, anyway.

‘It’s sweet,’ I say.

‘I’m not sure whether being called sweet is an insult to my manliness.’ He raises an amused eyebrow.

‘Trust me. Sweet is good.’ I stare deep into his eyes, and my skin tingles. Abruptly, I look away, and the moment is lost.

By the time Jordan puts a plate of beef curry and basmati rice garnished with freshly chopped coriander in front of me, my stomach’s rumbling. I’ve eaten very little recently, and I’m suddenly famished.

I pick up my fork. ‘It looks delicious.’

‘If you don’t like it, I can make something else.’

I take a bite, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. ‘You’re a good cook.’

‘Just one of my many talents.’ He looks pleased, and we eat in silence for a while until he says, ‘So, what’s the plan?’

‘Tomorrow I have a follow up appointment with Dr Drew. And I’ll have to wait to hear from Summers and see what he’s found out. After that…’ I shrug. ‘I don’t know.’ I glance at the terracotta wall clock, wondering what’s taking Summers so long to get back to me. Surely, he would’ve got hold of Chris’ dad by now, who’d confirm Chris was lying. With that story he wrote, it
had
to be him. Summers would break through his alibi and lock him up where he belonged, and then I’d be able breathe again. But until that happened, I had to do something to take my mind off this waiting game. ‘Look, tonight can we just not talk about things? For just one night, I want to forget everything. If I think about it anymore, it’s going to send me round the bend. Can we just do something normal, like watch a film, or listen to music, or…’ I raise my bottle of beer. ‘Have another drink.’

He puts his knife and fork down and clinks his bottle against mine. ‘Then that’s exactly what we’ll do.’