The Perfect Girlfriend(88)

‘Miles! Miles Yorke!’ I say with a beam.

Bella glances over.

‘You don’t usually go for port,’ I say, slightly louder than necessary.

He stares at me but doesn’t utter a word.

Bella stares too.

I just can’t resist pushing it a touch more. ‘Let me get you a top-up. I like to look after our special customers.’

I slide the stem of his port glass through my fingers and, holding the base, I whisk it up. Red liquid splashes on to Miles’ trousers.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ I clasp my free hand to my mouth. ‘Come into the galley and I’ll get you something to wipe it off.’

I saunter out of the cabin, past Nate’s seat. He does not look up. Miles is not far behind. Even though all I do is greet him with a peck on the cheek once we reach the privacy of the galley, he jerks his face away.

‘My wife – Bella – is on board. What the hell is all this about? You lied. You said you worked for a travel company.’

I can’t be bothered to point out that airlines play a significant role in the travel industry.

‘You’re lucky that I’m giving you the time of day. Your treatment of me wasn’t fair. You and Nate have more in common than you know.’

He stares. ‘Nate?’

‘Yes. Nate.’

‘Not Nick? Oh my God.’ He pauses. ‘You misled me. Right from the beginning. Why?’

Behind him, Bella appears.

‘Miles? Darling, did you get your trousers sorted?’

He swings round at the sound of her voice. ‘Almost.’

I run a napkin under the tap, squeeze it and hand it to him. He rubs his right thigh much more vigorously than necessary.

‘I know you, don’t I? From school.’ Bella stares at me. ‘You’re Elizabeth Price. You were at that party. In Bournemouth.’

Miles continues with the unnecessary stain removal. His trousers are dark grey, you can’t even see the port.

‘And Stephanie mentioned that you’d visited her at the gym.’

‘Can I get you a drink?’ I say. ‘If not, you’ll have to excuse me as I’ve got things to do.’

‘What did you mean about Miles not usually drinking port?’ She turns to Miles. ‘You’re not that frequent a flyer.’

I decide to help Miles out. For now. ‘I’m a client of his.’

‘You? A client of Miles?’

Her disbelieving tone irks.

‘Was,’ says Miles, looking up. ‘In fact, no, that’s not even true. Nothing much materialized after our initial meeting. This is confusing. I thought your name was Juliette?’

‘It is. Now.’

‘Why did you choose Miles’ company? It’s too much of a coincidence. You did this at school. Always following me around, copying me, stealing my clothes, my make-up. Sucking up to my friends.’

Miles looks like he’s going to be sick.

‘Miles, darling, did she ask you personal questions when she came to your office? Did you have any suspicions about her at all?’

‘No. Why?’

‘Because I’ve got a bad feeling about all of this.’

I feel my hands clench. This is not the conversation of my imagination. I expected some sort of burgeoning shame or fear from her. Just something. Because surely even she can’t expect to come out of this conversation completely smelling of bloody roses. I glance towards a low stowage unit which contains a jemmy. Its official use is in the event of a fire, for levering open panels. It is metal and heavy and has a nasty hook on the end.

‘Excuse me?’

All three of us look over to the right-hand side. A passenger, the Canadian actor, is standing there.

I summon up my professional self. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Yes, please. My screen has frozen.’

‘I’ll come and take a look,’ I say, following him into the cabin. I pretend to take an interest in the situation, pressing a few buttons on the control. ‘I’ll get the system reset for you,’ I promise.

He smiles. ‘Thanks. Appreciate it.’

On my way to the rear of the cabin, I crouch down by Tara’s seat. ‘Hi,’ I mime.

She pauses her movie – the latest romantic comedy – and takes off her headphones. ‘Hi,’ she says hesitantly.

I can tell she is desperately trying not to make it obvious that she is glancing down at my name badge.

‘It’s Juliette. Remember? We did that Athens together, the other month. Or was it Cairo? Anyway, how are you?’

‘Fine, thanks.’

She still looks confused. She has every right to; we’ve never flown together. As she struggles to recall a non-existent memory, I point over at Nate. He looks over.

‘Is this the new man?’

She grins. ‘Yes.’

I pull a grim face. ‘Oh. Good luck. I’d watch out, if I were you.’

Nate takes off his headphones and sits up straight, still looking over at me. I’ve never really given any thought to the term ‘a thunderous expression’ until this moment. I can now see exactly what it means, because his whole face is creased into a giant frown. I stand up before she can respond and aim for the galley. Nate beats me to it. He strides over and grabs my arm.