Chasing What's Already Gone (Second Chances Book 1) (18 page)

Chapter Forty

Even though Jess can hear the chambermaids scurrying around outside, she stays cuddled up under her duvet, drifting in and out of sleep as the sun rises above the city. Eventually she needs to go to the toilet and brush her teeth. As she walks to the bathroom, she glances over at her laptop. Well, there’s no going back now!

There is a knock at the door. She looks at the bedside clock; it’s nearly eleven. The chambermaids must be changing shifts. She is still in her underwear, but no doubt they have seen it all before. She walks unsteadily to the door and looks through the security peep hole, it takes her a second or two to take it in.

“Come in, Danny! Oh my God!” She falls into his arms and weeps like a child.

“Shh, shh,” he whispers.

“How did you…Why, why?”

***

There is no way I am staying at home, and once I find a flight leaving Bristol at six in the morning, I set things into motion. My first call is to Derek, telling him I will be away for a day or so and instructing him to arrange to get to the site by taxi. Then a voicemail to Edwin to tell him I will be available on the phone, but I will back him and Derek one hundred percent if they had to make any big decisions whilst I am away. Then a text to Pat to say I am keeping the company van for a couple more days and to take care of my Audi. Finally, an internal memo to Buck explaining that I have no choice but to leave the depot for two days, but I have total confidence in Edwin and Derek and regardless, my mobile will be permanently switched on. Feeling happy with myself, I then go online to book a seat on Jess’s return flight. I flinch at the cost, but in the scheme of things, there is no point in over-thinking matters.

When I arrive at the hotel, I go straight to the lifts and find her room. I hadn’t been sure if she would be in or whether she would even answer the door, so I had previously composed a handwritten note to push under the door to let her know it was me.

She opens the door. My first sight of her takes my breath away, but not in a nice way. She looks shattered, like an animal that has been locked away from the sun for a long time, lost and utterly vulnerable.

Holding her as she cries, that vulnerability is communicated through her breathing. It stutters and starts, like a car engine that just doesn’t want to tick over. She is also physically exposed; she is dressed only in her underwear, has no make-up on and is barefoot. She is smaller and lighter than I had thought.

I don’t care if the timing is all wrong; my body screams at me to say it.

“I love you, Jessica.”

When I feel that she is more settled, I whisper in her ear,

“Here’s my plan: you go and have a nice, long shower, get changed, and then you can show me around Paris and buy me some coffee from your favourite Parisian cafe. Go, go, but take as long as you like. There’s no hurry.”

It feels indecent to look at her as she walks away, so I study the room. It’s not exactly a mess, but it feels out of sorts. On the coffee table is what is left of Jess’s phone. The lid of her laptop is raised and I’m sure if I wiggle her mouse, I will get some missing information from her history. But I am not in the slightest tempted. All I want is to give her a nice day, a day to enjoy after a night to forget. Although the screen is cracked, the phone might be usable, so I search for the back of the phone and find it under the chair. I always carry a sticking plaster in my credit card case, and I use it to bind the two pieces together. It looks hideous, but it seems to work. I turn it off and plug it into the wall charger behind the chair, leaving it out of sight for the present. I decide to lie down on the bed. I haven’t slept for more than a couple of hours out of the last twenty-four, so despite my best efforts, I fall asleep.

I wake up and instinctively know Jess is not here. I get off the bed and go to look in the bathroom, which is spotless. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a note leaning on top of the dressing table. I hesitate before picking it up.

Hi, my knight in shining white armour.

You were so fast asleep I did not dare to disturb you. I have things to do, but I should be back before two and then you can have me and Paris all to yourself.

Love, J

P.S. I heard what you said this morning. x x

It has already turned midday. Brilliant knight in shining white armour, me! More like a bumbling Don Quixote. May as well have a quick shower myself. I remembered to grab a toothbrush and a change of underpants when I left, and that is it. I’m in and out and drying my hair when Jess returns. She looks ravishing, and for some reason I feel embarrassed to approach her.

She walks over to me, plants a kiss on my mouth and says, “Come on, I’ve got the whole day planned.”

Did something bad happen last night, or did I imagine her phone call? I’m happy to tag along, but have no intention of letting her sweep events under the carpet. It is important that I am not excluded; I do not want to be excluded. We head off down some side streets and come to a pavement cafe in what looks like, to my untutored eye, a rather rough part of the city.

Jess points to a table.

“Sit. I will be back with the best breakfast you have ever eaten.”

Damn it, is she ever wrong? She has come back with two large cups of cappuccino and four of the largest almond croissants I have seen. They taste heavenly. I know that sounds a bit over the top, but they are delicious. I go back inside for two more coffees. I want these croissants to last, and they need company. I place them on the table.

“Okay, Jessica Bethan Roberts, no more delaying tactics. I need to know everything about last night, and I mean absolutely everything.”

***

“Edwin Pedlar.”

“Hello, Edwin. It’s Gemma here. Gemma Barrow.”

“I only know one or two Gemmas. Are you the one with the nasty, aggressive nature who likes destroying men’s egos or the patient, listening one?”

“I’m the worried one. Do you know if Danny has any way of getting in touch with Jess?”

“Why?”

“She’s not answering her phone and there are some wild rumours circulating around here that she attacked one of the senior board directors last night in her bedroom.”

“As if. Whoever is going to believe that?”

“Well, not me, for one.”

“Don’t panic, Gemma. She will be in touch. All I can tell you is that Danny left a message on my mobile last night to say he was going over to Paris to sort a problem out. I could give you his number, but let me ring him first. Don’t worry.”

Gemma does not get a chance to respond. Well, Danny is no heavyweight boxer, but there is no doubt he could more than pummel Paul Clement into the ground if he so wished. Wouldn’t that be nice to hear about? Her internal line rings. “Miss Barrow, could you come up to the third floor please?”

She will, but not until Edwin rings back.

***

“Paul Clement is—
was
my boss’s boss,” Jess begins. “He’s a French Canadian who has advanced through the company ranks on his ability to speak English and French flawlessly and his predator’s eye for an opportunity. Over the years I got to know him, and he has always been friendly and chivalrous, but last year he started making his advances more obvious. Our meals out together started to be accompanied by small and then more generous gifts.”

“He seemed to accept with good grace that I liked him as a friend, but no more, and as he backed off, I strangely found myself becoming more attracted to him. He could be most charming, and so I made a conscious decision to see if there was a more meaningful relationship possible. Gemma was horrified when I told her, which in turn drove me on. I was her boss, I knew better than her, that type of thing.”

“So when he came back to my hotel room last year, I was prepared to have sex with him. I wasn’t excited about it, but he was so charming; maybe I was being too selective. When we entered the room, he started undressing me and then, when we kissed, I knew instantly that this was nonsense. Not only did I have no feelings for him, I was repulsed by his mouth, by his hands, by his face. It all seemed like madness and as I pushed him away, he did not grasp that a change in me had happened. Maybe he thought I was role-playing, because what started as a simple shove in the chest turned into a fight, and if I hadn’t screamed at the top of my voice, he only had one thing in mind. The following day he apologised, said he’d had too much to drink and he would never force a lady to do anything she did not want. I have spent a year keeping as far away from him as possible.”

I need some time to assimilate the information. On one hand I want to corner this Clement fellow and attack him with a baseball bat, but on the other I am mystified that Jess could manoeuvre herself into such a position. It does not seem to be the sort of thing I would have expected from her. Have I misjudged her? How do I respond?

“What are you thinking?”

“Sorry, my head is slightly swimming. I’m trying to get my brain around it all.”

“You feel I’ve got myself to blame.”

This is not going to go well. Words—where are you? I have got to say this right.

“I made a promise to you that I would never lie to you, and it would be wrong of me to start lying now. Yes, it sounds as if in some way, in some small way, you could have averted what happened.” Well, that’s screwed it all up. But how can I believe in a long-term future if I start avoiding the truth?

Tears are forming in her eyes. “I didn’t want you to say that.”

“I know, Jess. I didn’t want to say it, but it’s how I feel.”

“Do you mind staying here while I go for a short walk?” As she walks away, she takes a tissue from her pocket and brings it up to her face.

***

“Gemma Barrow.”

“Hi, Gemma,” says Edwin. “I’ve spoken briefly to Danny. From what I can gather, Jess’s boss attacked her and she fought him off. Now, this is going to affect you: she has handed in her resignation and is sending a letter detailing the facts to the board. But she is adamant, regardless of any internal review, that she will never work for the company again.”

“I told her not to go. To stay well clear of that snide twat. How could she be so stupid?”

“You don’t mean that, do you?”

“Of course not, but he is such a creep. I have to go upstairs now, where no doubt I will be fed some concocted story that he has fabricated. If they do, I’m giving in my notice.”

“Shouldn’t you wait until you speak to Jess? I’m not saying you should stay regardless, but at least talk it over with her first. Take a deep breath and suck it in. Jobs aren’t that easy to find. See what Jess says, yes?”

“Yes, you’re right. That’s good advice which, unlike Jess, I will heed. Thank you, Edwin.”

“Ed. Let’s keep in touch for the next day or so.”

***

“Rob Palmer.”

“Hi, Rob. Danny here.”

“Hi, buddy. Are you all right? You sound a bit down.”

“I’ve been happier. That’s for sure.”

“It’s not a very good line, I can hardly hear you.”

“Is that better? I’m in Paris, but the signal should be the same.”

“Yes, I can hear you better now. Paris, eh? Are you having a dirty weekend in the mid-week?”

“Anything but. I think I’ve screwed up things with Jess big time. It’s too complicated, but I’ve just told her the truth about something when I think I should have lied—to spare her feelings, you know?”

Rob is a calming influence; I don’t rush him.

“Doing what I do,” he says, “spending much of my life in courts and interview rooms, where I know half the time people are lying to my face, I have come to realise that I fight harder for the truth-givers. I have respect for the men and women who come out and say ‘I’ve screwed up—can you help me?’ I still do my best for the liars, but not my very best if you understand what I mean. Sometimes in life you have to go backwards to go forwards. You can’t undo what you have said. Don’t vacillate, Danny. That will make things worse. You’re a good guy. If she doesn’t see that, well…”

“You’re the best, Rob. She’s coming back. I have to go—thanks.”

It is not easy to make eye contact as Jess sits back down at the table. She looks at me for a long time before she speaks. “My first reaction to what you said was disappointment. I thought we would be a team, and there is no chance of being a team if you are not here to fight my corner.”

She has been crying. All I want in the world is to rewind time, or even better, freeze it, so I can find some way for my words to match up properly with my feelings.

She pauses as a waitress takes away our cups and plates, then stands up, leans with both hands on her chair and says, “They stay open here until ten tonight. I need more time to think, so I’m going for a walk to clear my head. If you want to talk again, I will be back here sometime between seven and eight.”