This Man Confessed - Malpas Jodi Ellen - Страница 107

‘I thought it was Coral.’ I say quietly.

‘Even after the dressing down that you gave her this morning?’ He’s restraining a small smile, I can tell.

‘No, I thought it was Coral before. Not now.’

‘Do you want to tell him, or should I?’ John asks seriously. I know what he means. No further elaboration is required and when he looks at me and nods at my pleading face, I know he understands. ‘I’ll tell him, girl.’

‘Can you try to calm him down, too?’

‘If we were talking about anything else, I’d say yes. But this is you. I’m not promising anything.’

I sigh, but I appreciate his frankness. ‘Thank you. Are you going back to The Manor?’

‘No, girl. I’ll call him. You just get done at work, and I’ll be waiting for you.’

‘Okay.’ I agree, feeling anxious, stupid and way too vulnerable. Once again, I’ve underestimated something that I really shouldn’t have.

* * *

The office is still uncomfortably silent when John drops me off at work. All three of my colleagues heads are firmly down, Sally still looks suicidal, and Patrick’s office door is still closed. No one acknowledges me when I pass through and Sally doesn’t offer me a coffee, so I dump my bag and head through to the kitchen to make myself one.

I’m just tipping my third sugar into the mug when my shoulders rise and tense at the sound of my beloved husband’s ringtone. If I could get away with it, I’d ignore him, but he’ll be calling the landline and failing that, charging into the office. Abandoning my coffee, I take deep breaths of courage as I go in search of my phone. This isn’t going to be a call that I can take in the openness of my office, so I hurry to the conference room and close the door behind me before connecting myself to what will be a raging mass of angry male.

‘Please don’t shout at me!’ I blurt down the line, immediately holding the phone away from my ear once I’ve made my plea.

I was right. ‘What the fucking hell were you thinking?’ he yells. ‘You stupid, stupid woman!’

My eyes close, and I quietly accept his rant, keeping my phone at a safe distance.

He’s breathing erratically between scorns. ‘I’ve been pulling my fucking hair out, trying to work with Steve and figure this shit out, and all along you had a handwritten threat?’ I hear a door slam. ‘And you tore it up? Evidence, Ava. Fucking evidence!’

‘I’m sorry!’ I’m close to tears. ‘I didn’t want to worry you. I thought it was harmless.’

‘Harmless, even after you were drugged? And did you still think it was harmless after you got rammed from the road?’ He’s so mad, but I know it’s because he’s not in control. He can’t control what’s happening, and it’s sending him crazy mad.

‘I should have told you.’

‘Fuck!’ Silence falls after his curse, and I can see a clear mental image of him slumped in his office chair, rubbing a furious circle on his temple with his fingertips. ‘Tell me you’re not leaving that office this afternoon.’

‘I have a meeting with Patrick. I’ll speak to him about Mikael.’ I’m trying to tell him what I know he wants to hear. I can’t work with Mikael, even if I don’t think it’s him anymore.

‘This isn’t the work of Mikael, Ava.’ he says more calmly than I know he’s feeling. I knew that, but what has convinced Jesse? ‘Steve confirmed that Mikael was on the flight to Denmark. He’s been back and forth to London over the last few weeks, but completely legit. He couldn’t have drugged you and he couldn’t have been driving my car because both of those times it’s confirmed that he was in Denmark. And why the hell would he say that he knows me?’ Jesse’s tone gets sharper as he finishes the sentence. It’s a reference to the first threat.

‘What about the man in the CCTV footage?’ I ask tentatively?

‘I don’t know, Ava.’ he sighs. ‘My car was found yesterday. Steve’s looking into it. The tracker’s been deactivated.’

‘Oh.’ I rest my tired arse down on one of the plush chairs surrounding the conference table. I could point out to him that I’m not the only one who’s been withholding information, but I won’t. I know he’s been pulling strings, calling in favours and generally doing everything other than using the police in the way they should be, whereas I have just been plain dumb.

‘Should I come to The Manor after work?’ I ask.

‘No, John will take you home as soon as you’ve spoken to Patrick. I’ll meet you there. Given this new information I’ve just found out, I’ve got Steve swinging by.’ His sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed and neither does the edge of anger. I’ve made a huge mistake. I don’t point out that my working day may not be over after I’ve spoken to Patrick because it will serve no purpose other than instigating further growling down the phone. I really do need to play by his rules this time. ‘Don’t leave that office, and once John’s taken you home, you stay put. Do you understand me?’

‘I understand.’ I whisper.

‘Good girl. I’ll speak with Steve, but I’m out of here the second I’m done.’

‘I love you.’ I blurt urgently, like I won’t ever get to tell him again.

He sighs. ‘I know you do, baby. We’ll have a bath when I’m home. Deal?’

‘Deal.’ I agree, his soft words and promise of tub-time making me feel a little better.

‘Do what you’re told, lady.’ He hangs up after that final warning, but I don’t take my phone from my ear. I know he’s gone, but I hold it there for a few moments anyway, maybe hoping that I’m mistaken and his deep husk will install some further reassurance.

It’s only when the door to the conference room swings open and Patrick appears that I finally pull my mobile away and accept he’s gone.

‘There you are,’ He still doesn’t look impressed as he stands holding the door open. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Yes,’ I go to rise, but he waves me back down.

‘No, stay there. We’re having the meeting in here.’ He shouts through to the others and one by one, they filter in, all puzzled and all deadly quiet. Something is going down, everyone can obviously sense it, and I now gather that it’s not just me and Patrick in this meeting.

There are no trays of tea brought in by Sal and there are no fresh cream cakes to dive into. Patrick looks tired and harassed, whereas we all look majorly confused by this sudden change in meeting etiquette. What happen to the relaxed affair, where we all huddle around our boss’s desk and stuff our faces with cake while Patrick brings himself up-to-date on client progress?

‘Right,’ He sits his big body down in a chair at the head of the table and undoes his suit jacket to prevent the pull over his rounded stomach. ‘I’ve not been here much lately, and I’m sure you’re all wondering why.’

The other three all murmur their acknowledgment, and even though I had absentmindedly noticed his lack of presence in the offices lately, I hadn’t dwelled on it for long. ‘Well, there is a perfectly good reason,’ he continues. ‘and I’m now in a position to disclose it. It has been tough, keeping you all in the dark. You all know I value each and every one of you, but things needed to be ironed out and finalised.’ His hands rest on his stomach and he relaxes back in his chair. My eyes travel from Tom to Victoria to Sal, and back again a few times, trying to gage their reaction to the news of news, but they are all just staring blankly at Patrick. ‘I’m retiring.’ he sighs. ‘I’ve had it.’

There is a collective hum of relived breaths coming from everyone, except me. If he’s retiring, then what happens to Rococo Union? Have none of them thought of that yet?

‘You’ve all still got your jobs. I’ve made sure of that,’ More collective sighs. ‘but I can’t do it anymore. The rat race of London is wearing me out, so Irene and I are moving up to the Lake District.’

My first thought is… Patrick full time with Irene? What is he thinking? And my second thought is… who am I going to be working for? I don’t have to wait long to find out. The door opens and Mikael walks in.