The Hike(56)

‘What, you? Ruthless Banker of the Year 20-whatever? You thought someone enacting some financial shenanigans was – and I quote – “a bit shitty”?’

He squeezed her leg. ‘There’s business, and there’s family. She conned you, Cat. She seemed quite proud of it too. When I asked her about it, it seemed like she’d convinced herself that she deserved that inheritance in lieu of having your brains.’

Cat forced out a laugh. ‘She had our parents wrapped around her little finger. They would have done anything for her. She probably just snapped her fingers and they happily changed the will to make her executor and cut me out without a second thought . . .’ Her sentence trailed off when she saw the expression on his face. ‘What is it? Did I get a bit of that wrong?’

He took his hand off her leg and looked away. ‘We should probably leave it. If you wanted revenge, you’ve already had it. Just make some smug comment someday to make her wonder if something’s happened between us, and you’ll fire up her paranoia. That’s enough, right?’

Cat pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

Tristan pulled on his boxers, then ambled across to the chair where his shirt had been hung over the back. Flung, in fact. Cat remembered unbuttoning it and throwing it there.

‘Tristan?’

He buttoned his shirt, still not looking at her. ‘They were on to her, Cat. They wrote another will.’

A cold shiver crept across her shoulders, icy fingers pressing into the flesh. ‘What?’

Tristan was buckling his belt. ‘I swore I would never—’

‘Never what?’ She threw the sheet off and jumped out of bed, grabbing at her own underwear and hastily stepping her feet through the holes. She threw her dress over her head, not bothering with her bra.

‘They were on their way to the solicitors to finalise the new will. They were changing it back, Cat. Ginny overheard them talking. Seemingly they’d seen through her plan, realised that she was trying to push you out. They were planning to fix the will, then call round to see you, take you to dinner. They felt bad for listening to Ginny’s lies. Believing her when she said you weren’t interested in them, or her. That you thought you were better than them all . . . that you didn’t need them.’ He hung his head. ‘She only told me this the day before the party. That’s why I kept trying to get your attention when I saw you. I wanted to talk to you . . .’

‘I thought you were being sleazy. I thought it was a wind-up.’

‘I know you did.’ He ran a hand through his hair. Sighed. ‘She had to stop them, Cat. She couldn’t let them change the will. Couldn’t risk them bringing you back into their lives. What if they cut off her allowance, too? She wasn’t working then, remember?’

‘What did she do, Tristan?’

He sat down on the chair, hard. ‘She cut the brake cable on that old car of theirs. Said she had to look up a video on basic car maintenance just to find out where the cable was.’

Cat thought she might be sick. She’d been on her way to see them. Her mother had left a message that morning that Cat had thought strange, so she’d jumped in her own car and was on her way. She replayed the message in her head, realising now that she’d got it so, so wrong.

We’re so sorry, darling, please forgive us.

Cat had been the one who’d found them. Their car was concertinaed into a bridge at the sharp bend at the bottom of the private road that led to their house. Ginny would have known there was no way they could have made that bend without braking. She would have known that their dad always drove too fast down that private road.

If I can’t speed on my own land, then where can I!?

By the time Cat had found them, it was already too late. The car engine belching smoke, the shapes of her parents hunched over the crushed dashboard. There were no airbags in those old cars. She’d called an ambulance straight away, but she knew it was pointless. And all the time, Ginny had been behind it. Sweet Virginia – the naive, innocent one.

The deceitful little bitch.

‘I think you should leave now.’ Cat didn’t want him to see how much she was shaking.

Tristan nodded. ‘I’ll message you, OK?’ He kissed her on the cheek, whispering, ‘You don’t have to deal with this alone. I can help you, Cat. With Paul too. Whatever it is that he’s done.’

Another piece of the jigsaw slotted into place. Another conversation from the night before. Tristan asking, ‘So why did Paul really leave? I never bought that burnout story . . . calmest trader I knew, that one . . .’ And she had told Tristan that Paul had had a one-night stand – still protecting Paul from Tristan learning the whole truth about the sexual harassment claim – and now Tristan must think her pathetic, to have her sister and her husband both betray her, and she just accept it. Well, she thought. Maybe I don’t have to accept it at all.

He turned to her once more, his hand on the door. ‘I like you, Cat. Let me help you. We can work on a plan . . .’

And then he was gone. But the seed had been planted. She laid her head back on the soft pillows, pulled the duvet up over herself again. Within moments, she was fast asleep.

And then the dream faded away, and she was cold, and in pain.

‘Open your eyes, Cat. Please. Wake up!’