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Molly opened her mouth to defend herself, but she knew it was pointless.
‘The investigator, terribly good at his job, I might add, followed you.’ He wagged a finger in the air while walking over to a walnut bureau. He opened it and removed a large brown envelope, flinging it onto the coffee table.
‘I have pictures. Go on, open it. Meeting my father at the Hilton at Heathrow Airport on Friday afternoon. I assume you met to have sex as well as to conspire. I have to admit, I really didn’t think you were my father’s type.’
‘But that’s bloody illegal!’ blustered Molly, regaining a little of her composure. ‘You can’t just have me followed!’
Daniel seemed unnaturally calm now. His voice had regained its cool elegance and was beginning to sound more icy with every word. ‘I could strangle you right now if I didn’t pity you so much,’ he said. ‘Really, I’m serious. What would drive you to destroy my wife’s life? Are you so stupid that you believe my father will somehow want you more? That he will be so grateful for this information, that he will somehow divorce my mother so he can marry you?’ He gave a cruel laugh that made Molly shudder. She couldn’t believe that little, mousy Daniel Delemere could be so icy, so devastatingly brutal.
‘Or is it just plain envy, Molly? Are you that twisted, that bitter?’
Molly puffed her chest out. How dare he suggest she was bitter?
‘I care about your father and he cares about his family,’ said Molly defiantly. ‘You could have a brilliant career Daniel, in politics, in the Lords. But not when you have a whore by your side.’
‘A whore?’ he spat. ‘I only know one of those, and she’s standing in front of me.’
Molly flinched at the look in his eyes. She held up her hands again. ‘Daniel, see sense. You don’t need someone like Donna in your life.’
‘And who do I need?’ asked Daniel coolly. ‘Someone like you?’
Molly looked away, cursing herself. She couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. She’d been looking forward to Daniel being single and back on the market once more, but he was being so irrational.
He looked at her once again, and his face actually softened.
‘Donna has done things that she undoubtedly regrets, Molly, things that I regret,’ he said. ‘But I love her, and you don’t marry someone’s past, Molly. You marry the person.’
He walked to the door and picked up a leather holdall that was sitting packed and ready. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was about to return home to my wife.’
Molly watched Daniel climb into his Audi and drive away, then picked up her mobile to phone Alex. ‘Are you back in the country?’ she asked urgently.
‘I’ve heard about Donna. Patsy phoned Vivienne,’ he said slowly. ‘We’re coming back to England immediately.’
‘It’s nothing serious, she’s fine,’ said Molly. ‘But I think I need you to talk some sense into Daniel. He knows what we did.’
There was a long pause before Alex spoke again. ‘I didn’t want it to turn out like this. I don’t think we should see each other again.’
Molly felt her heart in her mouth. ‘Alex, wait!’ she said, pleading. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel is just angry and confused. He’ll forgive you and he’ll do the right thing and get rid of Donna. We just need to let the dust settle for a while.’
‘Molly, I have to go. We’re leaving for the airport. Goodbye.’
The line went dead and Molly threw her phone back in her bag.
55
Something was in the air. Erin could feel it. Most of the time she was privy to all of Adam’s business affairs, but over the last few days she was feeling increasingly excluded from what was going on. Adam’s door was closed most of the time: people were in and out and she could hear a lot of raised voices coming from his office. There had been several long meetings and lunch dates with someone called Claudia Falcon; Erin had googled her and found out she was a prominent securities banker.
Erin had assumed she knew everything about Adam’s business, but she was obviously mistaken. She only knew what Adam allowed her to know. Feeling frustrated and highly curious, she carried on with her emails, straining her ears for any more snippets of conversation. She knew that whatever was going on behind those closed doors was clearly either very good or very bad, and she was desperate to know which.
Sebastian Cavendish hadn’t wanted to be buried. He had told his wife, many months before his death, that he hated the idea of his expensively maintained body rotting away beneath the surface of the soil. Against the staunch wishes of his family, who wanted him to be buried in the village church where the Cavendishes still owned a Grade I listed manor house and were treated like local royalty, Karin had carried out Sebastian’s wishes. He had been cremated, his ashes strewn in the grounds of his parents’ house, and a David Linley-designed bench had been placed in a quiet corner of Holland Park where Sebastian used to go to read his papers.
It was hard to believe that was only a year ago, thought Karin, resting her elbow on the open window of her car as she drove towards Holland Park. Today was the first anniversary of Sebastian’s death and yet, honestly, she struggled to remember what life was like with him in it. Her new life with Adam was so true and sure and established, it had snuffed out all memories of a time before he existed.
Perhaps today would feel different, she thought. It was 11 a.m., and the morning skies were soft and hazy, promising another warm day. She parked the car in a metered bay on Addison Road and walked towards the park. She saw a old man, a neighbour who she recognized, and they nodded. His eyes looked apologetic. He clearly knew who she was. The tragic, beautiful widow who had lost her husband in a boating accident and had moved out of the area within months of it happening.
As Karin walked into the park towards Sebastian’s bench, she recognized another familiar figure moving towards it from another direction. Karin’s first instinct was retreat, but she could see she had been spotted.
Dammit, that’s all I need today, thought Karin, as she drew level with a cool, smartly dressed blonde. She was about forty, but looked good on it, thanks to her elegant, regal bone structure. Helen Cavendish, Sebastian’s sister. It had been her husband Matthew’s business partner who took out the charter of the Zeus every August, and thus Helen had been a guest aboard the yacht the night of Sebastian’s death.
