She opened one eye. ‘Yes.’
‘What is it?’
She heaved herself upright; mercifully I’d landed on a subject she wanted to talk about. Who’d have known ink floated Marcie’s boat? Funny, I knew so much about Marcie, but I didn’t know she had any tattoos.
She pulled her skirt to one side to give me a better view. ‘It’s a little seahorse. Gorgeous, isn’t it?’
It was dark green with red eyes, almost dragon-like. But there was something benign about it and slightly familiar.
‘When did you get it?’
She waved her hand. ‘Oh, a long time ago.’
‘Does it have a special meaning for you?’
She frowned. ‘Dammit, my glass is empty. Are you not drinking yours?’
She leant forward and took my glass before I could stop her.
I needed to know more about the tattoo. Every instinct I had was urging me to keep her talking about it. ‘Why a seahorse?’
‘I just like them. I had a necklace with the same design. But I lost it.’
An image floated into my mind. Jessica had worn a necklace with a seahorse at the French restaurant when she’d thrown up. But surely that was just a coincidence.
My heart thumped. ‘When did you lose it?’
I mentally crossed my fingers that she’d keep talking.
‘About ten years ago. I was touring.’
I was starting to have butterflies in my stomach. That was around the time Jessica was touring with her. There’s no way Jessica would have stolen it... was there?
‘It must have meant a lot to you.’
She nodded and looked strangely vulnerable. ‘I haven’t written a single song since I lost it. Some things once lost are lost for ever.’ Tears were welling in her eyes. She hastily wiped them away. ‘I want you to leave now. I’m tired.’
Her words were like a punch in the gut. ‘I thought you said I could stay for dinner. Now you’re kicking me out?’
‘It’s not my job to feed you, young lady.’
Before I could protest, I heard the front door slam and the sound of urgent male voices. Had she hit some sort of invisible alarm? Was security about to boot me out?
Marcie hadn’t seemed to notice the noise, only looking concerned when she heard excited dog barks.
‘What’s all the commotion about?’
The sound of footsteps grew nearer, then through the doorway, in marched Nick, followed by Ronan and the skipping dogs.
Nick didn’t seem to notice me. His eyes were focused on Marcie and the two empty wine glasses on the table in front of her. The dogs went straight towards her, noses to the carpet, intent on sniffing her bare feet.
‘Nicky,’ she cried, getting up. The dogs backed away, sensing that their mistress was unlikely to be steady on her feet. She gave an exaggerated wave that tipped her off balance and she toppled back onto the sofa. The leather whooshed as she landed. If they gave out Oscars for pretending to be drunk, she’d be a slam-dunk. Unfortunately, she wasn’t pretending.
I got up to help her, but froze when Nick turned his gaze towards me. He wasfurious.The air around him was sizzling from his anger. And all of it was directed at me.
‘Now, hang on.’ I wasnotgoing to take the blame for this.
He ignored me, and instead helped Marcie up to her feet by himself. Ronan joined in and the two of them steered Marcie out of the room, all the while acting like I wasn’t there. Only the dogs acknowledged me, sniffing at the hem of my jeans.
