Page 79 of The Black Trilogy

Her mother proved to have one use when she lent us her chauffeur again, and after a brief detour to the charity shop to drop off Tia’s unwanted gifts, we headed into London. I kept my head down as Tia bought half of Selfridges then hid in the shadows at a West End show.

“I bought you a necklace,” she said in the car on the way home, presenting me with a silver letter A on a chain. “It’s no fun if I’m the only one getting new things.”

“That’s sweet of you. Thanks.”

As she fastened it around my neck, the guilt weighing me down grew heavier. It wasn’t only Luke I was going to end up hurting.

When Tia returned to school the following week, I worried she might revert to her old ways, but it seemed her new attitude was there to stay.

“Do you think Luke would let me go out with friends from school?” she asked one evening. “They’re going to the cinema.”

Friends? Well, at least she was making some. “I’ll deal with Luke. But you’ve got to promise you won’t drink and you’ll come back at a sensible time.”

I’ll admit I paced a little while I was waiting for her to return, but she didn’t let me down. Someone’s mother dropped her off at ten, and she could still walk in a straight line.

That was the same week I discovered Luke wasn’t quite as squeaky clean as he made out. Embracing his new-found delegation skills, he’d been working from home more, and his desk in the den was a sea of empty crisp packets and post-it notes.

“You want a coffee?” I asked him one evening.

His eyes shot up. “Huh? What did you say?”

Why the surprise? I looked at the image of his screen reflected in the window behind him. Wasn’t that the police national database? I recognised the logo.

He flipped over to a spreadsheet as I walked behind the desk, but I knew what I’d seen. And I very much suspected he wasn’t supposed to be in there.

“I said, would you like a coffee?”

“Oh, er…yes, please.”

I bent and kissed him. So, he wasn’t quite the angel I thought he was? Good. I liked my men with a streak of bad in them.

And I loved the time spent with Luke and Tia, but when they were out, I got restless. A seed of boredom germinated inside me, twining with guilt that was growing ever stronger. As soon as Luke left in the mornings, I’d hit the gym to take my mind off things, but there was only so much exercise I could do.

“Why don’t you join the country club?” Luke asked.

I stifled a laugh. “I’m not a lady who lunches.”

In fact, nobody who knew the real me would even describe me as a lady.

“You might like it if you tried it.”

How could I tell him I felt more at home navigating my way through the underbelly of society than I did making small talk with a bunch of women whose main concern was that their hair looked good? The answer? I couldn’t

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”

Right now, I was leading the life many women dreamed of. I had free time, a hot boyfriend, and a luxury home. But the more time passed, the more sure I became that it wasn’t for me.

I missed the little things—Stan’s scowls in the morning, Bradley’s incessant chatter, Nick’s junk dumped on every surface, Dan stumbling in at three in the morning. I even craved Toby’s disgusting smoothies on occasion. I hadn’t quite managed to replicate the vile taste myself.

But how would people react if I turned up in Virginia saying, “Hey, did you miss me?”

Not only that, I hadn’t forgotten the threat from my husband’s killer. Was I ready to expose my friends to that? Would I ever be?

Every time I was on the verge of leaving, Luke and Tia changed my mind. I’d never been one to show emotion in the past—my training had knocked that out of me—but I found myself smiling and laughing. Two things that had once been foreign concepts.

And Luke was so flipping nice. The other guys I’d dated had mostly been in the same line of work as me, and yeah, we’d had a lot of fun, but they’d all had a toughness about them. An edge. With Luke, I could curl up on the sofa and he’d help me escape from reality. Well, not the guilt. I’d never escape that.

Tia became the sister I’d never had, once the veneer on the outside of her was stripped off. We’d been shopping for art supplies, and now she channelled any angst she had left into painting and drawing. Her talent floored me. She’d started sketching my portrait, and every evening it got more detailed.

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