She climbed out the car and straightened the short skirt she’d managed to squeeze into. She tried not to think about the state of the petrol station toilet she’d used to get changed into her new outfit, and adjusted her blouse. She couldn’t let Matthew know she’d been spending money behind his back, at least not the amounts that had passed through her fingers of late.
Slamming the door shut, she took a deep breath and stepped towards the front portico of the restaurant.
Part of a chain of hotels that had purchased then renovated old buildings around the country to an exquisite standard, the restaurant was popular at weekends and in the evenings. As she entered the reception area and turned right into a lounge area, she was pleased to see that at lunchtime, it was quiet. In fact, aside from two old men – from their conversation, likely two partners in one of the solicitors’ firms that were dotted along the High Street – the bar was empty.
‘Gin and tonic,’ she said to the bartender, and then moved across to a table and two chairs next to the window, sunlight dappling the green velvet upholstery.
She checked her watch as the bartender brought her drink across, nodded her thanks, and took a sip.
She reminded herself not to gulp; she’d need her wits about her for this meeting.
For a fleeting moment, she wondered whether she should have left it another week before approaching him – after all, some might think her callous given that her daughter had been found murdered only hours ago. She pushed the thought away. Right now, her own survival had to take priority, especially as it was evident Matthew’s finances were worse than she first thought.
She heard Blake before she saw him, his sonorous tone carrying from the lounge area, his mobile phone pressed to his ear.
He entered the bar in a hurry, nodded at her before he turned away to finish his call at the same time as ordering a large glass of white wine, and then tucked his phone into his jacket pocket.
‘Diane,’ he said as he approached the table.
She stretched up towards him, offering her cheek.
His lips breezed past her jawline, and then he straightened, held up his glass in a toast, and took a sip. ‘Have you ordered yet?’
‘No. Here.’
He took one of the menus from her and placed his wineglass on the table while he ran his eyes over the food on offer.
‘Thanks for seeing me in private.’
‘No problem. Are you ready to order?’
‘Yes. I’ll have the steak, please. Rare.’ She crossed her legs, and let the short skirt ride up her thigh.
Blake ignored her, glanced over his shoulder and held the menu up to the bartender. ‘One Dover sole, and the fillet steak, rare.’
‘Sir.’
He hovered next to her, then pulled out one of the soft chairs and lowered his bulk into it. ‘I didn’t get to ask you at the house, because Courtney was talking so much. How are you holding up?’
Diane took another sip of her drink, and realised her hands were shaking. She concentrated on putting the glass on the table before answering.
‘It’s a nightmare. Matthew’s gone over the figures again, but it’s impossible – especially now that German retailer pulled out after the Brexit fiasco. The business simply hasn’t recovered.’
‘I meant about Sophie’s murder.’
‘Oh.’ She blushed. ‘Oh, yes. It hasn’t really sunk in that she’s gone, to be honest.’
‘Jesus, Diane.’ He shook his head, and glanced over his shoulder as a waiter in black trousers and crisp white shirt approached them.
‘If you’d both like to follow me through to the dining room and I’ll show you to your table?’
Diane drained her drink, picked up her bag and allowed Blake to lead her back through the dining area.
They turned right at the reception desk and then through a large archway and into a spacious room that overlooked landscaped gardens through French doors.
The waiter fussed over them, placing napkins in their laps, poured water into their glasses, and then left with a promise that their food would be with them soon.
‘I’m truly sorry about what happened to Sophie,’ said Blake. He rested his arms on the table. ‘Have the police charged him yet?’
‘I don’t believe so, no. They came to see you?’
He nodded. ‘Yesterday. Accused Josh of sleeping with her.’
Diane gasped. ‘What did he say?’
‘“No”, of course.’ He frowned. ‘What the hell did you think he’d say?’
‘Sorry. I just thought—’
She broke off as the waiter reappeared, two steaming plates of food in his hands.
By the time he wandered off once more, she’d recovered from Blake’s outburst.
He pushed his knife to one side, used the fork to carve a chunk of the fish apart and shovelled it into his mouth.
‘Did you know she was pregnant?’
She swallowed. ‘No.’
‘Christ, what a mess.’
‘I had no idea, Blake. As far as we were concerned, she was betrothed to Josh.’
‘Yeah, well, in the circumstances, you can forget all about our business arrangement.’
‘You can’t do that!’
His eyes blazed. ‘Keep your voice down,’ he hissed.
She glanced over her shoulder.
There was only one other group in the restaurant, a couple and an elderly woman who seemed oblivious to anyone else around them as they clinked glasses and laughed with the waiter as he moved around their table, rearranging plates and exchanging light-hearted conversation.
She turned back to the American. ‘Please, Blake – you have to help us!’
He pointed his fork at her. ‘You should’ve had a contingency plan, Diane. Every business needs one. That’s where you English aristocracy have always gone wrong. No back-up plan. You’re all dying out—’
Diane glared at him, her eyes stinging.
‘Sorry. That came out wrong.’
She watched as he drained the glass and waved the waiter over.
‘Get me another one of these. D’you want another gin and tonic?’
She shook her head.
‘Fine – just the wine, then.’
Diane picked at her food
