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“His teacher said he’s been hitting the other kids again.”
I pull a face. “That’s only because the other children provoke him. My brother is not a troublemaker, Mum. Freddie told me the other kids in his class are always teasing him about his idiosyncrasies. You know, like his thing with counting how many baked beans are on his plate at dinnertime.”
Cynthia runs her fingers over her face. “The thing is, his teacher, Miss Barnes, says she wants a meeting with me next week to discuss his progress. That’s the same week I fly out. There’s just so much to do it’s getting overwhelming.”
I take both her hands in mine and look her dead in the eye. “Now listen to me, Mum. Don’t worry about anything, okay? I’m sorry for all the sneaking around, you’re right, I should have just come clean and told you the truth. As of today, I promise to be honest with you about when I’m meeting up with Alex. And I’ll happily go to this meeting on your behalf at the school. You just focus on preparing for your trip and keeping your stress levels low, okay? I want you to focus on getting better and nothing else.”
She smiles weakly and then pulls me in for a one-armed hug. “Oh darling, what would I do without you? You really are an angel, but sometimes you can be a little devil too. All right, I gratefully accept your offer to go down to the school, thank you. I can’t deal with Miss Barnes right now, so your intervention is much appreciated, but don’t take any crap from her about Freddie. Remember to stand your ground. But can you promise me just one last thing?”
“Sure.”
“When I return from this trip, can we sit down together and have a proper chat about everything? I mean about where you really got that £50,000, because sweetheart, I know it wasn’t from modelling.” I open my mouth to protest but she shushes me with one finger. “Nope. No more lies. Oh, and I also want to meet Alex. If you’re going to continue seeing him, then he will need to be vetted by me.”
My palms get all sweaty. “Um, yeah sure. I can do that.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
“Fantastic, that helps put my mind at rest. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Oh no. How the heck am I going to get out of this one? Not for the first time, I’ve backed myself into a corner with no way out.
Later that day, as I’m walking through Clapham High Street to buy some groceries from Sainsbury’s, I hear a car horn beeping to get my attention. Spinning around, I see a black Rolls Royce parked across the road and get a shock when I realise the man in the driver’s seat is none other than Hobbs.Oh my gosh.What is he doing here? Then the mystery deepens as the passenger window slides down and I see the ghostly face of Mrs Kingswood, her lips moving and saying something inaudible from this distance.
What the hell does she want?
Glancing left and right, I jog across the street and hesitantly approach the car, my heart thudding like a drum. Why oh, why do I get a bad feeling about this?
“Mrs Kingswood,” I say, forcing a smile. “What a nice surprise. What are you doing around my neck of the woods?”
“As a matter of fact, I came here especially to see you,” she replies. “Is there somewhere private we could go to talk?”
I rock back on my heels. “Actually, I was just in the middle of doing some shopping. Now isn’t really a good time, but if you maybe come back later, we could—”
“Jessica, this is a life-or-death situation. I need to speak with you now urgently.”
Life-or-death? This lady is starting to worry me…
“How long is this talk going to take and what’s it about? Can you at least give me a clue?”
“I told you, the matter is private, but it’s highly important we speak today. There’s not a moment to lose. I promise it won’t take long, no more than half an hour. Now, you know this area. Where can we go where we won’t be bothered by anyone? This is an extremely sensitive matter, and I must have absolute privacy.”
For a few seconds, I say nothing, just stare into her haggard face and wonder what secrets she could possibly reveal. Deep down, a part of me doesn’t want to know, but in the end, curiosity gets the better of me. I want to know what this ‘life-or-death’ situation is.
“Okay, there is one place we could go,” I say at last. “There’s a quiet spot on Clapham Common where people rarely ever go. We could go and talk there, I guess.”
“Excellent!” Mrs Kingswood flashes a sickly grin. “Get in the car and you can give us directions.”
With great reluctance, I pull open the door and slip in next to her. About ten minutes later, Hobbs is parked up on a side-street and me and Beatrix Kingswood are sitting on the same bench where this whole crazy thing first started—the same secluded clearing where I first readThe Sunday Sportstory about a girl selling her virginity. The irony is not lost on me.
For a while, the two of us sit stiffly side-by-side, looking away from each other, virtual strangers brought together by the most bizarre circumstance. Mrs Kingswood has brought a battered old suitcase with her from the car, and something about it makes me nervous. I wonder what dark secrets are held within it.
“Does Alex know you’re here?” I ask, as it suddenly occurs to me.
“No,” she replies. “I come to you in the strictest confidence, Jessica, and would rather you kept what I am about to tell you just between the two of us.”
