Wild Fiction

14 Heathcote
Road. Tonight.
9pm.
She immediately erased the SMS and left the phone box.
Conrad and James looked up when she entered the café and then simultaneously they swivelled their heads to the door of the ladies toilets and then back to Rebecca.
‘Where have you been?’ Conrad asked as she sat down.
‘It’s a long story,’ she said taking a deep breath. ‘It can wait until later. I need to ask you a favour but you have to promise not to ask any questions.’
‘Okay,’ Conrad said.
She looked at James and he nodded back at her.
‘Tonight I’m going to meet somebody in a pub in town and I need you to sit outside and make sure I’m not abducted when I leave.’
‘Which pub and who are you meeting?’ Conrad asked.
‘You promised not to ask any questions.’
‘Well how will we know which pub to wait outside if you don’t tell us the name?’
‘I’ll take you there later when I go. We need to be there at nine. Are you up for this? I need complete secrecy. Okay?’
Conrad nodded at her and then looked at James. ‘Where were we?’
They left the restaurant and walked home. Rebecca walked ahead of James and Conrad who continued their football talk. Every now and then she would stop and turn around and look past the boys.
‘What are you looking for?’ Conrad asked after she had done it for the fourth time.
‘I’m just making sure that we aren’t being followed.’
James and Conrad turned around and looked back down the lane. Two small cottages stood off to the right with a yellow car in front of them. A dog barked in the distance and a squirrel, or other small animal, was rustling the undergrowth.
‘There’s no one there,’ James said.
‘I know, I’m just being careful, I have this feeling.’
She dropped behind them for the rest of the walk so she could look back without them seeing her. They arrived home without incident and Conrad and James disappeared into the basement. The Jaguar was still absent from the garage. Rebecca skirted the house looking in the windows and then went in search of the author.

Chapter 33

The author parked the car in the local NCP and searched Harrods for Genevieve. After half an hour he found her at the champagne and oyster bar with a plate of empty oyster shells in front of her. Next to the plate was a half-full champagne glass. Fine streams of bubbles broke away from the side of the glass and formed small rafts of bubbles on the surface. She was talking to a woman with short blonde hair in a designer dress suit.
‘...trimester you’re not supposed to drink at all.’ the woman was saying shaking a finger at Genevieve. The woman’s short hair was pinned back and her large oval eyes smiled with her mouth.
‘It’s an...’ Genevieve stopped speaking when she saw the author. Her face tensed for a moment before it relaxed again. She reached over, picked up her glass, and took a sip. ‘Darling, come and meet my friend Louise,’ she said. ‘Louise this is my darling husband who’ll do anything for me.’ She spoke slowly enunciating each word. ‘You look like such a business man darling. Why have you brought your briefcase in here with you? This is a department store. You won’t find any meetings here.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ the author said extending his hand to Louise’s. She took the author’s hand and smiled back at him.
‘Louise does interior design darling, I’m thinking of getting her to come and look over our place.’
The author grimaced and then smiled again and nodded. ‘Are you ready to go?’ he asked. The question was said directly to Genevieve.
Genevieve looked at her glass and then at Louise. ‘Do you want another?’
Louise shook her head and Genevieve picked up her glass and tipped her head back draining it into her mouth. She burped and covered her mouth before doubling over in a giggling fit. Louise put her hand on Genevieve’s shoulder and held her onto the stool, which she was in danger of falling off. Once Genevieve had managed to regain control of her laughter she stepped down from the stool, holding onto the bar with one hand and Louise’s hand with the other.
They said goodbye to Louise and the author put his arm around his wife and led her to the car. There was a brief argument at the car about who was going to drive. The author won.