19
Nowhere to Run
It was 6.45 a.m. when I got off the tube at Waterloo. I’d set two alarms, paranoid that one wouldn’t work, so here I was, fifteen minutes ahead of schedule for my interview with Jonny Delaney. Nick had arranged it early so it didn’t clash with my working day, but what I’d then taken for thoughtfulness now felt more like mind games.
It wasn’t clear from Nick’s text whether I’d be meeting Jonny alone or if he would come too, but I had my answer now.
Nick was leaning against a wall, his hands in his pockets and his head tilted towards the sun. His stillness was exaggerated by the bustle of commuters spiralling from the station.
He saw me approaching and straightened. His eyes were wary. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d come.’
‘Couldn’t disappoint Jonny.’ I looked around, trying to locate the man in question. ‘Where is he?’
‘Let’s walk.’
I followed his lead, and we fell into step.
He cleared his throat. ‘I was snappy with you on the phone. I should have just told you what you needed to hear, which also happens to be the truth: I didn’t send the paparazzi on Sunday night.’
He seemed genuinely sorry, but what did I know? And anyway, did it matter if he was telling the truth or not? I was back on good terms with Simon and that was all I cared about.
‘What’s done is done,’ I said, keeping my voice neutral. ‘I’m here to interview your client, and then the next contact you and I have will be when you call to tell me where and when I can interview Marcie Tyler.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘What, no social calls?’
I frowned. ‘We’re not friends, Nick. I’m sure you’re a perfectly nice bloke, but we have a working relationship and that’s all.’
He tipped his head to one side. ‘I feel like I’m missing a page in this script.’
‘Never mind,’ I said, wishing I’d never let Simon’s assessment of Nick’s intentions towards me get under my skin. ‘If you got the wrong idea, it’s partly my fault because I asked you to pretend to be my boyfriend, but that was a one-off. And it was an act.’
He held up his hands. ‘I just did what I was told.’
I nodded. ‘Great. I’m glad we cleared that up.’
After a couple of beats, he said: ‘So, are you and Simon...?’
‘That’s not really your business,’ I said. ‘But yes, sort of.’
I’m not sure why I hadn’t stopped talking after ‘business’. Except I did know why; my curiosity was just too damned piqued, and my next question had already formed on my lips. ‘Are you and Marcie...?’
His eyes widened in surprise. ‘No. Why would you say that?’
I waved my hand in front of him. ‘Cos you’ve got the sort of face ancient civilisations built temples for, and Marcie’s a legend.’ Not to mention all the rumours.
I was digging myself deeper now, but didn’t know how to stop. ‘No one would blame you.’Except, of course, everyone. ‘Look, forget I said anything. I’m sorry.’
He nodded. ‘Okay, well, at least that’s sorted.’
‘Where’s Jonny?’ I said, happy to talk abouthimfor the first time in my life.
‘He’s meeting us there.’
I glanced around us. ‘Where is this mythical place?’
Nick nudged my shoulder with his and pointed to the sky.
A plane was flying high above Big Ben. ‘Jonny’s on a plane? We’re miles from an airport.’
