‘I’d be nastier if I was you. I’d want revenge.’
‘Buse, you’re seventeen.’
She nods. ‘I am, and I’ve got great tits, 27,000 followers on Instagram, and an ABB in my mock A levels. And while I might not be as rich as Defne, I am still pretty fucking rich. So…’
‘That’s the spirit.’
‘I know, right? What’s your name again?’
Oxana smiles. ‘Fuck off, Buse.’
Buse lightly punches Oxana’s bicep. ‘Fuck off yourself.’
41
Jack calls at Philippa’s house shortly before noon. ‘How are you both?’ he asks, his eyes flickering over Eve as if checking her for signs of damage.
She smiles. ‘Fine, thank you.’
Jack glances at Philippa. ‘You OK? No sign of Finbarr Williams?’
‘Nope. Nothing.’
‘Thank God. I spoke to Dave Kydd earlier. They want to interview Williams in connection with Tom’s stabbing, but they’ve no idea where he is.’
‘Gone to ground, I expect,’ Philippa says, with a meaningful look at Eve. ‘Come and sit down.’ She herds Jack and Eve towards the sofa, marches through to the kitchen and starts filling the kettle.
Jack and Eve take their places, a little gingerly, at opposite ends of the sofa. ‘So what’s the plan?’ he asks her.
‘No plan, really.’
He watches Philippa as she moves around the kitchen. ‘I just hope you haven’t been put off this place, and by?—’
‘By?’
‘By what happened to Tom. Cranborne’s not quite the same as it was when you left, I’m afraid. But there’s plenty that’s still good about it. Plenty to lift the spirit.’
‘And plenty of good people.’ Eve smiles.
‘I hope you think so.’ He moves closer to her, takes her hand and gently folds her fingers inwards. ‘And I hope you decide to stay here.’
Eve, her heart fluttering, leaves her hand in his possession. Perhaps this is how it should be. Calm, not storm. A safe berth. A homecoming.
There’s a sharp knock at the front door.
‘Can somebody get that?’ Philippa calls out, and Jack gets up. He opens the front door, there’s a murmur of conversation, and he stands back to admit the trim, upright figure of Johnny Fernandes.
Eve stares at him as Philippa walks out of the kitchen, carrying a rattling tin tray. On it is a teapot, a half-empty milk bottle, three mugs and a packet of chocolate digestive biscuits.
Johnny gives Philippa a tight smile. ‘Please excuse me for interrupting your morning, but I have a message for Eve.’
‘Johnny,’ Eve finally manages. ‘It’s… nice to see you.’
He inclines his head courteously. ‘And you too.’
‘You said you have a message?’
‘I do.’ He looks at her steadily. ‘She needs you.’