The Lost Relic

back towards the arrivals lounge. Stopping at a row of lockers, he removed enough cash from his wallet to be getting on with, put the wallet in his bag and stuffed the bag into locker 187. Better to travel light, for what he had in mind. Then he went outside into the sunshine and looked for the taxi rank.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Richmond, London

Brooke Marcel’s current contract as a hostage psychology consultant with the specialist risk assessment firm of Sturmer-Wainwright Associates Ltd allowed her to manage her time quite freely and spend a lot of hours working from home on her latest research paper. One of the benefits of managing her own schedule was that she could train in her local gym in the middle of the afternoon, like today, when the place was all but empty. After the running and rowing machines, the ab exercises and the free weights it was nearly four o’clock and she was finishing her workout with a last two-minute full-on sprint on the stationary cycle. Breathing through her nose, staring straight ahead as her body arched over the handlebar and her legs pumped hard and fast, she could feel the muscles in her thighs flooding with blood and oxygen, her calves burning, her heart stepping up to meet the challenge.

Ten seconds to the two-minute target, her phone buzzed inside the pocket of her shorts, and she eased off the pressure and stopped pedalling. The call was from her sister.

‘You sound a lot more cheerful today,’ Brooke said, noting the upbeat tone of Phoebe’s voice.

‘I think I’ve made a big mistake,’ Phoebe said, sheepish and relieved at the same time.

‘Marshall?’

‘Yes. I think I got him all wrong. I completely overreacted and I’m so sorry about it.’

Brooke listened and said nothing. ‘Remember that receipt I found?’

‘Tiffany’s.’ How could I forget, Brooke thought.

‘You were right. He got it for me. Gave it to me last night over dinner. A beautiful gold necklace.’

‘That’s wonderful, sis,’ Brooke said. She didn’t quite know how to react.

‘I feel terrible. How could I have been so suspicious? You were right. He told me he was sorry he’d been a bit out of sorts lately. This really big deal at work looked about to fall through, something they’d been working on for months, and it’s been driving him up the wall, apparently.’ Phoebe sighed. ‘I only wish he could have told me.’

Brooke said nothing.

‘But everything’s fine now,’ Phoebe went on brightly. ‘Anyway, that’s one reason I’m calling, just to let you know and to thank you for having been there for me. I really appreciate it, and when I get back from Devon I’m going to take you out for a fancy lunch.’

‘Devon?’

‘That’s the other reason I’m calling, Brooke. You know we arranged to meet on Thursday for coffee? I’d totally forgotten I have this continuing professional development Pilates course that I enrolled on ages ago, and I just looked at the calendar and realised the bloody thing starts tomorrow. So I’m rushing off to Exeter tonight, for five days. Really sorry.’

‘Don’t be silly. Have a great time. Call me when you get back.’

‘I will. Bye.’

Brooke slipped the phone back in her pocket and let out a long sigh of relief. So it was over. No more worrying about how she was going to deal with the situation. Marshall must have finally got the hint that she wasn’t interested in him. Maybe it was true that he’d been going through some crisis. But whatever the cause of it, his infatuation with her had obviously burnt itself out and things were going back to normal. Thank God.

Brooke showered, changed and left the gym. Dusk was falling, and the car park was quiet as she walked to her Suzuki Grand Vitara.

She heard footsteps coming up behind her, and turned abruptly.

‘Marshall!’

‘Brooke—’

‘What are you doing here?’

He shrugged. ‘I followed you.’ As if it were the most obvious, natural thing.

‘So you’re stalking me now, is that it?’

‘I had to see you.’

She stared at him. ‘Why?’

‘You know why.’

‘I don’t understand. Phoebe’s just been on the phone, all happy because you gave her that necklace.’

‘I gave Phoebe the necklace because I love her,’ Marshall protested. ‘But I’m in love with you. I know I shouldn’t say it—’

‘Then why do you keep saying it?’

‘I just can’t help myself. I don’t have any control over my feelings. You think I enjoy deceiving Phoebe like this?’

‘You’re seriously confused, Marshall. Go away and leave me alone.’ She reached her car, unlocked the back and threw her gym bag inside. When she turned to walk around to the driver’s door, Marshall grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to kiss her on the mouth. She pushed him away. ‘You do that again and I’ll punch you. I swear it.’

‘Brooke—’

‘Piss off, Marshall. Keep away from me.’ Brooke clambered into the Suzuki, slammed the door and roared away, leaving him standing at the side of the road, red-faced and wild-eyed. A hundred metres down the street, she slammed her palms on the steering wheel. ‘Jesus Christ!’ she burst out in frustration.

By the time she’d reached her place in Richmond, the realisation had dawned on her that Phoebe’s five days in Devon were only going to make things worse. Marshall wasn’t going to leave her alone, the whole time. Five whole days free to pursue and harass her to his heart’s content. The situation was bound to escalate, and then she’d have little choice but to tell her sister what was happening. Shit. God only knew how things would go from there. Unthinkable.

As she parked the Suzuki and walked to the entrance of her ground-floor apartment, Brooke was thinking that maybe she should call Ben and get him to have a word with Marshall after all. Maybe the threat of a black eye was the only language Marshall would understand.

But then a better idea came to her. It wasn’t going to cure the problem, but it would put some distance between her and Marshall and buy her some time to figure out what to do.

She dumped her gym stuff in her apartment and then trotted up to the first floor and knocked on her upstairs neighbour’s door. His name was Amal, and he was a twenty-something ‘aspiring playwright’ who kept himself to himself and tended to be around during the day. In fact, she doubted he ever went anywhere. How he paid the dizzying rent was one of life’s great mysteries, but she didn’t ask. She was content to have a nice, dependable guy living upstairs on whom she could call from time to time and get him to water her plants while she was away.

The door opened. ‘Brooke. Hi!’Amal grinned at her like a long-lost friend.

‘Need to ask you another favour, Amal,’ she said apologetically.

He clicked his fingers and pointed at her. ‘The plants, right?’

‘You don’t mind?’

‘My pleasure. Off to Bob’s place in France again? How is he?’

‘It’s Ben.’ She’d been deliberately vague about him with Amal, and had never revealed too much about the nature of her work trips to Normandy. ‘Not this time. I’m nipping over to Portugal for a few days.’

‘Right. Holiday?’

‘More like a retreat. I have a place there, out in the countryside.’