Page 67 of Read Between The Lines

‘Right, I reckon we could pass as a couple heading home from a meal out. The key thing is to create a different silhouette in the dark. Shall we?’

He took my hand in his and we set off down the road, strolling casually as if we were merely enjoying the mild spring evening rather than on the trail of a master criminal. The streets were bustling, even at this time on a Monday night, full of students eagerly catching up with their friends, having just returned to Oxford for the start of Trinity term. I tried to concentrate on our task, but it was difficult to give it my full attention when half of my brain was engaged in a joyous internal commentary about how right it felt to be walking through town like this with Leo. His clasp was gentle yet confident, and every so often his thumb delicately swept across my palm. I knew he was only doing it to subtly indicate when we should slow down or speed up to match Blake’s pace, but I allowed myself to pretend there might be something more to it, relishing every moment of his soft touch.

But as we continued on our journey, my sense of unease grew.

‘We’re nearly at my flat,’ I said quietly. ‘He can’t… He doesn’t know where I live, does he?’

‘Hold on, I think he’s stopping,’ said Leo, leaning towards me, the words more mouthed than audible. He pulled me behind a large stone gatepost, standing so I was further concealed in his shadow, and we watched as Blake Jenkins unlocked a basement flat only five buildings along from my own studio flat. The click of the door closing behind him seemed to echo down the road like a gunshot, and I jumped, despite my best efforts to remain calm.

‘That is too close for comfort,’ said Leo. ‘Are you okay?’

I realised I was shaking.

‘Yup,’ I said, not trusting myself to say anything more in case I gave away that my teeth were chattering.

‘Come here,’ said Leo, and he pulled me close. There was comfort in the warmth of his embrace, but I knew I couldn’t allow myself to get too used to it. The reality of the danger which Blake could pose had suddenly come home to me, almost in a literal sense, and I knew I couldn’t afford to get distracted at such a critical point. How long had the man I’d known as Brian James been living around the corner from me? Had he been watching me, using what he saw to help build a profile which he knew would appeal to me?

‘Is there someone you could stay with for a few days?’ Leo asked. ‘I’m sure I’m being over-cautious, but it might be better for my peace of mind if you could be elsewhere, just until we’ve sorted out this situation. I don’t feel easy knowing that he’s staying so close to your home. Would Moira take you in?’

‘Absolutely,’ I said. ‘The only issue is that she lives in the rest of the house above my flat. It wouldn’t exactly be providing the distance we’re after.’

‘Then you’ll have to come and stay at mine,’ said Leo without hesitation. In any other circumstances, my heart would have been singing at the invitation, but it had been delivered in a decidedly impersonal tone, and I was aware the motivation behind it was purely practical.

I made a lukewarm protest, but I knew I’d feel physically safer staying at Leo’s, even if I was running the risk of becoming even more emotionally vulnerable. I was grateful for his kindness.

‘Will Moira worry about where you’ve got to?’ asked Leo.

‘I’ll text her to say I’m staying with a friend,’ I said, already knowing that it would send Moira and Rami into a paroxysm of inquisitive excitement.

* * *

Leo lived in a pretty village several miles out of Oxford. He’d left his car at home, not wanting to run the risk of Blake Jenkins recognising it, so we got the bus back instead, sitting together on the top deck. I felt inordinately tired, the stress of the last few days catching up with me, and I had to fight the temptation to let my head rest on Leo’s broad shoulder and doze off as the bus trundled its way through the countryside.

‘I’m renting this place from a friend who’s travelling abroad for a year,’ he explained as he unlocked the front door, the outdoor light illuminating the chocolate box style cottage, complete with softly scented wisteria winding its way up the honey-coloured stonework. ‘He says I can have first refusal if he decides to stay abroad and sell up. I’ll miss him if he does do that, but I’ll admit I’ve fallen for the house and wouldn’t mind making it mine permanently.’ He smiled. ‘Of course, I’ll have to have established my business properly by then in order to afford it.’

When I’d first met Leo, he’d struck me as being the type of bloke to live in an impersonal warehouse flat, full of shiny chrome surfaces and black leather sofas. But knowing him better, I could see why he felt so at home in this little house with its cosy, shaker-style kitchen and squishy armchairs. It was a comfortable and undemanding environment, the kind of place where you could relax and be yourself. Or it would have been, if I hadn’t then started worrying about the sleeping arrangements. An only-one-bed scenario could lead to all kinds of complications which were probably best avoided, given the other dramas I was dealing with.

Fortunately– or unfortunately, as the braver side of my mind put it– Leo had a spare bedroom, and he’d thought of all the practicalities.

‘Here’s a t-shirt for you to sleep in. There’s a spare blanket in the chest at the end of the bed if you get cold, and I’ll put some towels out in the bathroom for you,’ he said from the doorway. ‘There’s a new toothbrush in the cupboard which you can use. Feel free to bob downstairs and put your clothes in to wash and dry overnight so they’re fresh in the morning for you. Have you got everything you need?’

Everything except you, I said silently. But this was hardly the time or the place. Leo was such a gentleman that, even supposing he had any interest in me in that way, he’d probably worry about taking advantage of my emotional state following the discovery that the scammer lived near me. And, while it would be wonderful to briefly forget my fears in Leo’s arms, my troubles would still be waiting for me in the morning.

‘Mm-hmm,’ I said.

‘Try not to let it worry you, Kat. We’ll sort it all out tomorrow. All will be well.’

For a moment, I wondered if he was referring to my internal dilemma, then I realised that his focus, as always, was on the investigation.

‘I hope so,’ I said, thinking of both situations.

‘Good night. Sleep well.’

‘Night, Leo. You too.’

He seemed to hesitate on the threshold– or was that just my wishful thinking?– then he turned and went into his own room, the wooden floor of the hallway creaking beneath his feet.

I had a quick shower, put my outfit in to wash as offered, and settled myself in the spare room. Wearing Leo’s clothing was a poor substitute for actually snuggling up in bed with the man himself, but I found comfort in it nevertheless, and drifted quickly off to sleep embraced by the subtle, clean scent of his t-shirt.

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