The Family Remains(88)

Lucy glances up at the man on the screen. He is staring at her, and where she expects to see dispassion, she sees great compassion. He is not out to get her. He’s just out to solve a puzzle. But still, she thinks, still, if in order to solve his puzzle he unlocks too much of her, follows her too far down this path, who knows where it will end up? It could, she realises with a cold shudder of dread, end up in the basement of Michael’s house in Antibes, and then she would lose everything. Absolutely everything.

She glances up at the man on the screen, and she nods, just once.





Part Four





59





I pull down the cuffs of the very nice Reiss shirt I bought at Heathrow on my way here, what feels like a hundred years ago, but was in fact only a week. Kris sits opposite me looking incredibly handsome and fiddling with his phone. He is very distracted and I’m starting to wonder if maybe there was an ulterior motive for his sudden and very thrilling invitation to join him for brunch this morning.

‘Are you OK, Kris?’ I ask, dropping my eyes to his phone.

‘Yeah. Sure. Sorry, Josh. I’m expecting an, er, something from a client. They’d provisionally booked a two p.m. tour, but said they’d get back to me to confirm. Just want to know how long I’ve got.’

I glance at the time on my phone. It’s 11.33 a.m. ‘We have plenty of time. I might just order myself a Bloody Mary. How about you?’

‘Oh, no. Not if I’m out with a client later. Need to stay sober.’

‘Of course. Do you mind—?’

‘No. Of course not! Go ahead.’

I order the Bloody Mary and turn back to Kris to see him staring at me intensely.

‘So, what have you been up to since I last saw you?’ Kris asks, taking a sip from his water glass.

‘Oh,’ I say airily. ‘This and that. Just having a really quiet time.’

‘Where are you staying now?’ His eyes go to his phone again.

‘I moved into an Airbnb. Not far from here, actually. Just wanted to feel like I could stretch out a bit, cook for myself, that kind of thing.’

‘And when are you planning to head back to London?’

‘Soon, I expect, but I haven’t booked a flight home yet.’

‘Do you not have anyone at home waiting for you?’

I smile wryly. ‘Just two slightly ridiculous cats.’

‘So you don’t live with anyone?’

‘No. Just me, all alone in a beautiful apartment.’

‘And family?’

‘Yes. I have “family”.’ I laugh hoarsely. I’m not sure why I’ve just put the word family into invisible quotes. I lose the smile and correct my stance. ‘Yes. I have a sister, two nieces, one nephew. No parents. Bijou.’

‘And what does she do, your sister?’

‘Oh. God, nothing really. I mean she’s a musician, I suppose, but she’s not really doing much musicking at the moment. She’s dealing with some financial jiggery-pokery, looking for a new house. It’s all very complicated.’

My Bloody Mary arrives, and I hold it aloft. ‘Cheers to you. And thank you so much for being a part of my Chicago experience. And, oh, talking of which, I wanted to apologise, wholeheartedly, for that quite crude message I sent you on Tuesday night. I was a little the worse for wear. And that is putting it extremely mildly. I don’t even remember sending it.’

‘Yeah, I could tell from the typos that you were probably not sober. But it’s fine. These things happen. I understand.’

Kris looks at his phone again. Then his gaze goes to the doors of the restaurant and suddenly I know. I know. Someone else was supposed to be here. But who? Who the hell does he know who would want to meet me here? Not my sister, surely. There’s no way her path could have crossed with Kris’s. But then I remember. Marco. He accessed my browsing history. He could have seen my search for Kris’s tour-guide service. He would have had access to Kris’s phone number. And then I know. I’ve been set up. I’ve been completely and utterly set up. I resist the urge to turn and look at the front door, and say, ‘So, did you ever find your British friend, Finn?’

He shakes his head and grabs the back of his neck, nervously. ‘No,’ he says. ‘Still trying to track him down. He’s gone very quiet. I’m a bit worried about him, actually. And you know, Joshua, something hit me the other day. Remember when we were talking that day, by the lake, and you said you’d been brought up overlooking the banks of the Thames? It didn’t occur to me at the time, but yeah, weird, so was my friend Finn! I may be barking up entirely the wrong tree, but it seems like kind of a coincidence. And it’s kind of made me wonder about you, Joshua Harris!’ He says this in a mock-playful tone, but I can tell his bloodstream is fizzing with adrenaline.

I gaze at him, echoing his faux playfulness with a cheesy smile. ‘And what exactly does it make you wonder, Kris Doll?’

‘I don’t know. That maybe you’re the guy? The guy Finn told me about?’

‘Remind me which guy that was?’

I see a muscle in Kris’s cheek twitch before he speaks, ‘The guy who was obsessed with him. Who kept him locked in a room.’

‘Kept him locked in a room?’ I say. ‘That sounds horrible. Your poor friend. But I can assure you that that was not me.’