Between You and Me (20 page)

‘Fine. Thank you, Anita.’ I hang up and lay my head in my hands. I feel the beginnings of a headache coming on and I reach for the painkillers in my top drawer. This is a bloody nightmare. If what Popescu is saying is true, this could destroy everything I’ve worked so hard for and I’ll have no chance at making partner here. I’ll lose everything. It seems I have no alternative. I’m going to have to do what Radu Popescu did to me; I’m going to have to go directly to Pavlenco’s offices and refuse to leave until he sees me.

I shout out to Anita that I’m going out for a while and to hold all my calls, grab my jacket and stride towards the tube station. While still warm, the heatwave that seems to have been suffocating London is lighter today. A short spell of warm rain yesterday evening has broken the oppressive air that crackled with static electricity and today almost feels fresh in comparison. The tube station, however, is not. Still sticky, grimy and ridiculously humid, I am sweating by the time I jump off the train three stops down. Outside Pavlenco’s offices I take a moment to calm down. I fold my jacket carefully over my arm and smooth my hair, which has a tendency to stick up of its own accord in the humidity. Feeling more collected and confident, I march into the reception area. A cool blonde with a disinterested air about her looks up eventually and asks if she can help me.

‘Charlie Trevetti to see Lucian Pavlenco.’ She places a call and, after an interminable wait, eventually Pavlenco’s secretary arrives. She doesn’t seem best pleased to see me, and I imagine Pavlenco is not too happy either. She marches me up to his office and after another short wait the secretary announces, ‘Mr Pavlenco will see you now.’

The door to Pavlenco’s office swings open and I see Lucian sitting behind a huge walnut desk. He raises an eyebrow at me as I enter, no wolfish smile this time, and a swarm of butterflies beat their wings frantically in my stomach. He is a formidable character at the best of times, more so when he is displeased.

‘Charlie. I wish I could say I was delighted to see you but I don’t believe we had an appointment.’ He steeples his fingers and stares hard at me.

‘Mr Pavlenco. Lucian. I did try to contact you earlier. I have a very urgent matter that I need to discuss with you, one that will affect the outcome of the deal if we are not very careful.’

‘And I believe I already gave you a message that I had nothing further to say on this matter. Was there something not clear about my message, something that perhaps you did not understand?’ His face is passive and I sigh heavily, trying to calm my shaking nerves. There is no way I am leaving here today without discussing Radu Popescu.

‘I have met with a gentleman named Radu Popescu. You may remember I asked you previously if you knew him? And you told me you had never heard of him, that he was
nobody
.’

‘And that is the case.’ Lucian leans back in his chair, studying me hard as if he is defying me to carry on.

‘I don’t believe that is the case, Mr Pavlenco. If you wish me to act for you in this buy-out, I think it is vitally important that we have an honest relationship, don’t you?’

‘Why, of course, Charlie. Do you not think that is how it is?’

‘I need to know, Lucian. I need to know exactly who Radu Popescu is and why exactly he thinks he is Lucian Pavlenco. I have met with him and he claims you are Radu Popescu. That you used his identity to set up your business because Radu Popescu came here as an illegal immigrant.’ I sit back and watch his face, holding my breath in anticipation. There is the slightest flicker in one eyelid, but no other emotion crosses his face at all. I have to admit – either this guy is an accomplished liar or Popescu is lying and Lucian is innocent.

‘And you believe this man? Charlie, I thought we had built a relationship together; I thought we trusted one another.’ He finally smiles, his usual wolfish smile, ever so mildly threatening. I sit up straighter in my chair, nerves making the sweat prickle under my armpits.
God, it’s hot in here.

‘Lucian, he emailed me proof. He sent me copies of his birth certificate, with the name Lucian Pavlenco. He sent me a Romanian driving licence, in the name of Lucian Pavlenco, but with his photo on it, not yours. And he sent me photos. Photos of two small boys, who can only be you and Popescu as children. So, now tell me you don’t know him, that he’s lying. That he is
nobody
.’ Lucian’s face pales slightly and he swallows hard.

‘Photos? Photos of us as children? I thought they were all gone.’ His voice is barely above a whisper and I gape at him, wondering if I heard him correctly. Popescu really was telling the truth? I realise that I never honestly believed there would be any truth in what he was saying. There is a sad gleam in Lucian’s eye, before it is swiftly replaced by his usual steely manner.

‘OK, Charlie, I will tell you, but I must warn you – if this gets out I will ruin you. You will never work again, not as a lawyer, not even as a fucking
garbage collector
. I will come after you and I will come after your family.
I will destroy you.
And I don’t care how you do it, but you will make this go away. Do you understand me?’ I gulp; Pavlenco doesn’t have a ruthless reputation for nothing. Pausing for just a moment, I make my decision.

‘Understood, Lucian. We can work together on this, I’m sure.’ There goes my last chance to walk away from the whole thing. Now I am trapped – I have to see this thing through to the end, and
successfully
, if I don’t want Pavlenco to destroy everything I hold dear.

‘Very well. Everything that Radu has told you is true. He came here many years ago, with his papers and got a job in a garage. He is a talented mechanic. He started to build a life for his family. He said he would send for me, and I waited until I couldn’t wait any more; it was taking longer than I ever thought possible, so I came of my own accord, you understand? I worked hard when I arrived, and I made some contacts. Business contacts that I could use to set up something successful – but I didn’t have the papers to back it all up. That’s where Radu comes in. He was Lucian, at the time, but I promised him that if I became Lucian I would take care of him and his family. He wouldn’t need to work such long hours any more, he wouldn’t need to work at all – I would have told him anything; I just needed to get my hands on his papers.’ He shrugs, and takes a sip of the coffee in front of him, seemingly nonplussed that he has just confessed to identity theft and fraud.

‘So how did it all go so wrong?’ I ask, intrigued as to how this man’s mind works, how he can possibly believe he can get away with all of this. How he has managed to get away with it for so long already.

‘I paid him every month at first, but then I didn’t see why I needed to. I didn’t need him any more, so why should I give him my hard-earned money? I had built up a strong profile as Lucian Pavlenco, international businessman. Who would believe a Romanian car mechanic, one who wasn’t even here legally by the looks of it? He had no papers to confirm he was legal; I could have reported him at any time. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, Charlie. I’m sure you know the saying?’ He smiles another wolfish grin and I am shocked at the coldness radiating from him. It’s like his entire history with Radu has been erased, an entire childhood forgotten. What had Radu said?
His family was mine, and my family was his.
I thought I was ruthless – Lucian makes me look like a pussycat. I push aside any personal feelings I may have, although knowing what I know now about Lucian I am not sure whether to be impressed by his cold-hearted business acumen, or horrified that he could treat his childhood best friend in this way. I switch back to impersonal lawyer mode.

‘Right. OK. So, how are we going to deal with this?’ I ask. ‘You know Radu is not going to go away, don’t you? He can barely afford to feed his family and the only work he can get is cash in hand at minimum wage – sometimes below minimum wage. He’s not going to just sit back and watch you turning over millions of pounds, when he firmly believes it’s him that has put you here.’

‘Of course he won’t,’ Lucian concedes. ‘But you are the lawyer, Charlie. How do you propose we deal with this situation? It is your responsibility now to make sure this doesn’t affect anything. It’s your job to make this go away.’ Lucian throws the ball firmly back in my court, presumably so that if things do all go wrong, it’ll be me that takes the blame. Unfortunately, I have no other option. In agreeing to hear his side of the story I have tied myself to him until all of this is resolved. I have trapped myself like a fly in the big, bad spider’s web of deceit that Lucian has created.

‘I think you should pay him off. You said that in the beginning you paid him a small amount of money – why not just pay him a lump sum and get rid of him? How much would work? Fifty grand?’ I raise my eyebrows at Lucian – fifty grand to him is like fifty quid to us mere mortals.

‘And if he comes back and says he wants more?’ Lucian questions.

‘Then we get him deported. Report him to the authorities and get him sent back to Romania – if he no longer has proof of who he once was there won’t be a problem. Job done.’ Satisfied with my solution I lean back in my chair and regard Lucian coolly. He’s not the only one who can be cold-hearted and ruthless.

‘I like it, Charlie Trevetti. I was not sure about you, but I think you really do have balls of steel. I will be putting a good word in for you, in time for your promotion.’ He winks at me, and I smile back, breathing a silent sigh of relief. It seems Mr Pavlenco has a finger in every pie.

It is agreed that Lucian will write out a cheque for fifty thousand pounds, instructing his accountant to find a way to write it off so there is no trace of where it has actually gone. I will arrange to meet Radu Popescu with the cheque, making clear that this is a one-time offer and any further contact will result in the Home Office being informed that Popescu is here illegally. A condition of the fifty thousand pounds is that all original paperwork that Radu has relating to the real Lucian Pavlenco, including photographs, must be passed on to me so I can arrange for it to be destroyed. I am confident that this will neutralise the threat over our heads from Popescu and that everything will be OK. It has to be OK – I’m too deep into it now for it not to be. Lucian stands to shake my hand, and we agree that I will contact him only once more with regard to the matter, to inform him that his offer has been accepted.

‘And in payment to you, Charlie, I will ensure you get what you deserve – you will be made partner.’ I leave his office, ten times lighter than when I entered, a huge cheque sitting in my briefcase.

Stepping out into the warm sunshine, I decide to walk back the office. It’s not far, and despite feeling relieved that a conclusion has been reached regarding Radu Popescu, I feel as though I need to shake off the oppressive darkness that seems to surround everything that Lucian Pavlenco touches. I can only hope this doesn’t backfire and we can all come out of this unscathed. That the darkness doesn’t come to settle around me.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

SAL

Today is the day. Finally, the day has arrived for my interview with Mrs Prideaux at St Martin’s Primary. You have left earlier than usual for the office, which is a godsend, as I wouldn’t want to have to explain to you why I was dropping Maggie off with Laura at this hour of the morning and heading into town. I did wonder briefly, when I woke, if there was something more to this particular deal than you are actually telling me. You have always been a bit of a workaholic but you seem more preoccupied than usual. Maybe it’s just because this is apparently
the
deal, the one that’s going to get you exactly where you want to be. I don’t ask. I don’t want to give a window of opportunity for you to tell me I’m wrong, or stupid, or to mind my own business, as you do so often these days, constantly pushing me away while at the same time complaining that I don’t take enough of an interest in you.

I shower and dress carefully. The storm that raged last night, with huge cracks of lightning illuminating the whole room and low rumbles of thunder that went on for so long I was convinced Maggie would wake up at any minute, has cleared the air. The heatwave seems to have finally broken, and while today has dawned sunny and clear-skied, there is a pleasant breeze and an altogether more breathable quality to the air. Flicking through the clothes in my wardrobe I settle on a long-sleeved white shirt – despite the fact that, although the weather has broken, it is still warm outside, I need to wear something to cover my arms. The burn is starting to heal, but I still need to cover it with a bandage for now and I don’t want to draw attention to it. I am ironing my shirt when Maggie appears in the kitchen doorway.

‘Morning, baby,’ I smile at her. ‘Did you dress yourself by any chance today?’

She is wearing a long, floaty ‘Princess’ dress, a present from Anna last Christmas that is now far too small for her, knee-length stripy socks and a pair of dressing-up heels.

‘This is what I’m wearing today.’ She beams at me, twirling around to show me how her dress flies out.

‘You’re going to Laura’s today, remember?’ I switch the iron off at the wall and crouch down to look into Maggie’s eyes. She pouts, tears brimming at the corners of her big, dark eyes – another legacy of mine, to go with the typically Mediterranean curls.

‘Don’t want to. I want to come with you.’ The tears threaten to spill over onto her cheeks.

‘Please, Mags. It’s just for today – you can play dress-up with Lucy. And I bet Laura will make some biscuits with you, if you ask her nicely.’

God, this is just one day.
Am I making the right decision? If I get this job, I’ll have to leave her every day.
I squeeze her in close to me, terrified in case I am making the wrong choice.
No, I have to do this. I have to find Sal the person again, instead of Sal the partner, Sal the parent. I have to be brave. I have to make sure I’m ready, just in case.
My last thought jolts something deep inside me, something that seems to have been awakened by recent events, and it makes my stomach churn a little with nerves and anticipation. The mention of biscuits seems to have dried up the tears and Maggie smiles. I’m not so sure Laura will be smiling when she realises what I’ve roped her into – the last time Mags and Lucy made biscuits together it was like a bomb had gone off in a flour factory.