The Tangled Web (34 page)

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Authors: Lacey Dearie

BOOK: The Tangled Web
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Vicky raised her eyebrows.  ‘How do you know?’

Adam smiled.  ‘Did you see the notepad and pen she picked
up on her way to their table?  Remember the waitress taking our order ditched
that pen because it wasn’t working?  And the notepad had run out of paper? 
That was the pen and paper Lumi picked up.  There’s no way she could have given
him her number.’

 

29

 

16
th
July

 

Vicky threw
the thin cotton sheet to one side and ran a sticky hand through her hair.  She
was finding it too hot to sleep.  The air conditioning was taking the edge off
the heat, but the humidity was stifling.  She looked over to the bed next to
her and saw Flic sleeping.  She had removed her make-up and switched off the
lights before she entered the room so that Vicky couldn’t see her without her
war paint, but an orange glow was seeping through the curtains from the street
lights and shining on Flic.  Vicky decided she looked about ten years younger
without the make-up.  She had previously estimated Flic’s age around the forty
mark.  Now, she looked barely in her thirties.  She sighed and made a mental
note to apply for Snog, Marry, Avoid on Flic’s behalf and get her a make-under.

She reached
over to the small white wicker dresser and picked up her phone.  She guessed it
must be around half past midnight at home and there would be plenty of
nightowls on Tête-a-net right now.  She opened up the app on her phone and
logged in using the Magnum PMT profile, hoping to find some gossip about the
appearance on The Roland Reading Show. 

She skipped
her crowded news feed and clicked on Scarlett’s profile first to see her latest
updates.

“Scarlett
McDonald and Peter Blackwood have ended their complicated relationship”

Vicky raised
her eyebrows as she noticed that nobody had commented, despite the fact the
update had been posted six hours ago.  What happened with Peter?  She decided
not to bother getting into any exchanges of messages with Scarlett tonight. 
She definitely wouldn’t get any sleep then. 

She was
tempted to click onto Christos’s profile and see what he had been up to since
she last logged on.  The truth was she was scared to.  Pamela had been vague
and even though she told herself that there was no way Christos would say or do
anything to suggest he was flirting with Kayla, there was a nagging doubt
somewhere in the background.  She didn’t want to believe that Christos would
cheat on his girlfriend.  He was one of the few good men around.

She didn’t
want to check Pamela’s updates either.  She knew it would put her mind at rest
though if she did. 

She logged out
and put her phone down on the dresser.  She picked it back up again.  Twice
more she put the phone back down then lifted it, unable to make a clear
decision.

‘What’s going
on?  Are you sleep texting?’ Flic murmured, barely coherently.

‘I’m…’ Vicky
trailed off, wondering if she should start explaining her worries to Flic or
wait until the morning and speak to her then.

Flic jumped
up in bed and reached for the light, clumsily knocking over a bottle of perfume
in the process and squealed, ‘Shit!’ 

The door to
their room swung open and Lumi burst into the room brandishing a kitchen knife,
yelling something in rapid Romanian.

‘Jesus
Christ, Lumi!  Chill out!  I just dropped a bottle of perfume.  Get that
fucking knife out of here!’ Flic screamed.

‘You should
be more careful,’ Lumi spat, glaring at the two of them before slamming the
door shut.

Vicky sat
bolt upright in bed, paralysed with fear.  Only her eyes seemed to be moving
and she directed them at Flic who was rearranging the bottles and make-up on
her bedside table.

‘We have GOT
to get this assignment over and done with and get the hell away from her. 
She’s mental,’ Flic tutted.

‘Uh-huh,’
Vicky croaked.

‘In the
meantime, I suggest we remove all knives and sharp objects from the kitchen
tomorrow and keep them in OUR room,’ Flic sighed.  ‘I know she was just trying
to protect us all from…whatever she thought was going on in here, but,
honestly, she’s a nightmare to live with.  No wonder Magnus got shot of her.’

Vicky managed
to unfreeze her hands and put them over her face.  She had no idea why she
suddenly felt tearful.  She could only assume a whole day of worrying about
what Pamela said had finally overwhelmed her.

‘Vicky?  Are
you crying?’ Flic worried.

‘No,’ Vicky
sobbed.

‘Oh babe,
what’s wrong?  Are you scared of her?  She IS a bit bonkers,’ Flic conceded.

‘No, it’s
nothing to do with Lumi,’ Vicky sniffled.

‘Oh.  You’re
worrying about Christos, aren’t you?’ Flic humphed.

‘How did you
know that?’ Vicky’s eyes widened.

‘It’s pretty
obvious.  If I was in your position, I’d be worrying about him too.  But then,
I’m never likely to be in your position.  I don’t do attached.  Men like him
are off limits,’ Flic shook her head.

‘He’s off
limits to me too.  I just feel a bit let down.  He’s probably one of my best
friends, and I don’t want to believe that he could be like that,’ Vicky
snivelled.

‘Mmm-hmm,’
Flic nodded.

‘And he’s
been such a good friend to me.  If he was cheating on his girlfriend, I’d lose
so much respect for him,’ Vicky sniffed.

‘Mmm,’ Flic
replied.

‘He just
wouldn’t be the person I thought he was,’ Vicky finished.

Flic stared
at Vicky, waiting for her to add more to the reassurance she was trying to give
herself.  Vicky added nothing and chewed her lip, waiting for Flic to provide
some comfort.

‘Gimme your
phone,’ Flic commanded.

‘Why?’

‘I’m phoning
Pamela.  We’re going to find out exactly what was said,’ Flic advised.

Vicky
gingerly reached out for her phone and extended her hand to pass it to Flic. 
Flic grabbed it from her and began scrolling through the menu to look for
Pamela’s number.

‘Right.  Here
it is.’  She selected Pamela’s number and pressed the call button.  ‘It’s
ringing.  Anything you want me to ask?  Anything specific?’

Vicky shook
her head.  She was afraid of what she was about to hear.

‘I’ll put it
on speakerphone,’ Flic advised.

‘What the
hell do you want Vicky?  It’s late!’ Pamela bawled from the other end of the
line.

‘Pamela, it’s
Flic.’

‘Oh, hi
Flic,’ Pamela replied, sounding slightly friendlier, before shouting, ‘Now what
the hell do YOU want?’

‘Listen up,
brat-face.  I’ve had enough of you being rude to everyone you come into contact
with.  I’m phoning to find out what kind of mess you made of your assignment,’
Flic snarled.

‘I didn’t
make any kind of mess, you old trout.  I was successful!’ she smarmed.

‘What do you
mean, successful?’ Flic pressed.

‘I got him,’
Pamela replied.  The smile and smugness was evident in her voice.

‘What does
that mean?  You need to provide evidence, or there’s no fee.  And that means,
no commission for YOU,’ Flic fibbed. 

‘There was
commission?’ Pamela gasped.

‘There might
be.  Depends how good a job you made of it.’

‘I’ll email
over the chat and the login details right now.  When do I get my commission?’
she persisted.

‘Send the
details to Vicky’s personal email address.  Tonight!  We’ll discuss commission
later,’ Flic brushed her off, and hung up before Pamela had any opportunity to
giver her more lip.

Vicky dried
her eyes and attempted to blow her nose but it was congested.  The air
conditioning and crying seemed to be a bad combination.  It made her feel like
she had a cold, and although she didn’t, she began to feel miserable and
fatigued as if she were truly ill. 

‘I don’t know
if I want to see what she meant,’ Vicky admitted. 

‘If you don’t,
you’ll keep thinking about it.  You’ll waste more hours that you could be
sleeping thinking about something that’s probably a complete misunderstanding,’
Flic reasoned.

‘And what if
it’s not a misunderstanding?’ Vicky quavered.

‘Well.  At
least you’ll know what a prick he is.  And you can deal with him accordingly,’
Flic replied.  Her sympathetic tones had changed and become more crisp,
thinking that Christos, apparently one of the good guys, was yet another
louse.  ‘Now, go down to that….um…..Internet café downstairs and find out.’ 

They both
giggled at Flic’s use of the words “Internet café.”  The truth was the café was
just a ten year old computer with basic Internet access and a Greek keyboard in
the middle of a corridor on the way to the gym. 

‘Alright. 
I’ll try not to wake you when I come back upstairs,’ Vicky said.

‘I don’t
mind.  I’ll probably be awake anyway.  I’ll need the gossip before I can get
back to sleep,’ Flic rolled her eyes.

Vicky slipped
her jeans on and exchanged her nightdress for a vest top before grabbing the
set of keys Flic was keeping in her bedside table’s drawer.  She tiptoed across
the cool wooden floor and out of the bedroom, peering over to the sofa bed in
the living room which Lumi was sleeping on.  She was sure she could see Lumi
watching her, even though she was motionless.  She treaded softly over to the
sofa bed and held her breath as she examined Lumi’s face more closely.  Her
eyes were half open, but she was snoring gently.  Vicky crept towards the door
and put the key into the lock.  She noticed Flic getting up to close the
bedroom door properly.

‘What’s
wrong?’ Flic worried.

‘Nothing.  I
thought Lumi was watching me, but she’s asleep.  I think she sleeps with her
eyes open!’ Vicky whispered.

‘Doesn’t
surprise me.  Now, get out of here!’ Flic commanded before closing the bedroom
door over.

Vicky turned
the keys and stepped out of the apartment.  She closed the heavy front door as
quietly as possible.  The last thing she needed was for Lumi to wake up again
and start asking questions.

She found
that the middle-of-the-night air was no cooler than the daytime air.  A breeze
blasted into her face as she descended the stairs and she felt like she had
stepped into a hairdryer.  She walked down the stairs and across the hotel
gardens towards the main building.  The traffic never stopped in this town, she
realised.  She heard cars in the distance, some kind of insects buzzing and
clicking amongst the plants in the garden and a soft meow from one of the
resident cats waiting to be let inside to sleep in the cooler, air-conditioned
reception area. 

‘Hello wee
pal,’ she greeted the cat softly.  ‘Come on in.’ She opened the heavy glass
door and stepped through, the cat eagerly following her. 

‘Good
morning,’ a voice cheered from behind the reception desk.  She looked up to see
the receptionist smiling at her.  She looked cool and unruffled, like she had
the sweat patches airbrushed out of her.  How did the locals do it?

‘Good
morning,’ Vicky cringed.  She had assumed she would be alone, forgetting that
the reception was open around the clock, even if the bar shut early.  ‘I’m just
here to use the computer,’ she explained.

‘You’re in
luck, it’s free,’ the receptionist joked. 

Vicky faked
half a laugh and rushed through the door marked “Sauna, Gym, Internet Café.” 
There was nothing wrong at all in using the facilities at this time in the
morning, she knew.  Yes, it was a bit strange, but people kept strange hours on
holiday.  She felt guilty though, as if she was doing something wrong.  She
told herself it was probably just the nerves making her feel that way.

Vicky sat
down at the chair in front of the computer.  It reminded her of one of the
unwelcoming plastic chairs she’d had to sit on at school.  Hard and
mis-shaped.  One size fits all, regardless of whether you were a tiny five year
old or a six foot three inch tall seventeen year old about to leave.  She
adjusted the position of the bulky monitor to remove the glare from the harsh
white lights on the ceiling from the screen. 

She placed
her fingers nervously on the keyboard.  She recognised a few of the characters
from the Latin alphabet.  On closer inspection she saw that most keys had a
Greek letter and a Latin alphabet letter.  Great!  It wasn’t going to be as
difficult to use as she had thought it would be when she previously visited to
write a blog and given up upon seeing the Greek keyboard.

She rolled
the mouse to remove the screensaver – a picture of Petra tu Romiou -
Aphrodite’s birthplace.  She clicked on the Internet Explorer icon and logged
onto her webmail account.  She had been hoping that Pamela’s email wouldn’t
have arrived yet.  She was out of luck though.  The thought of getting
commission on completion of a successful assignment was clearly enough
incentive for Pamela to get the email sent quickly. 

She opened
the email and read:

 

“Hiya biatches!

I trapped Christos using a
different account. He clearly wasn’t responding to Kayla, so I invented
Jessica, a sultry and slightly seedy brunette.  Login using the email address
I’ve sent this email from and the password is bumhole.  I’ve attached a copy of
the chat me and him had.  He’s a total creep.  Haha!  Didn’t have to try too
hard, and as soon as we’d had THE CHAT, he deleted me and blocked me!  How do
you like that?  You can still see the messages he sent, you just can’t contact
him through the account.

Hope you’re having a shit time
in Ibiza :P

Mela Moo :) xoxoxo”

 

Vicky felt
her heart sink into her stomach.  She could guess what was coming.  Christos
had been warned about someone called Kayla trying to virtually seduce him.  He
had no reason to suspect Jessica was a fake.  Her mind raced with all sorts of
scenarios.  Maybe he was still winding Pamela up.  Maybe he had guessed. 

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