Authors: Simon Brooke
"So she's gone to
France, then?"
"Yes, with Sarah.
It was a last minute thing. Sarah organised it. They'll be back tomorrow."
We both stop for a moment
as we realise what this means. For all my confidence and determination, I'm not
sure how I'm even going to begin to apologise adequately and to see how we can rebuild
our life together. On the other hand, even if she hasn't been sleeping with Peter,
she's been doing everything else with almost every waking minute of the day and
I can't stand that any longer.
"Tomorrow,"
I repeat dumbly. I take a bite of toast and say, almost to myself. "I'll be
here when she gets back."
The guys loosen up towards the end of our little impromptu breakfast.
Peter's got quite a nice line in self deprecating humour, I discover, and the way
Scott gazes at him, laughing anxiously at all his jokes, is quite sweet. They're
just getting up to leave when the door bells rings.
I look at my watch. Eleven
fifteen. They're early.
"Oh, it's just the
police," I explain. The others look horrified again. "They're just bringing
back some computers and papers they took, you know for this whole, stupid investigation
thing."
"I'll tell you about
it in the car," says Peter to Scott. "Charlie's had a nightmare time of
it for the last few weeks."
"Harsh," says
Scott, sympathetically. "Way harsh."
They pick up their stuff
- car keys and blazer for Peter, rucksack and walkman for Scott, and make towards
the door.
"Listen, Charlie,
mate, I hope you and Lauren do get it back together, you're a lovely couple,"
says Peter. I'm about to say 'Thanks' or something but suddenly my throat fees tight.
Instead I just smile and nod. The bell rings again.
I open the door to Slapton.
"Thanks, Peter,"
I cough at him. "I appreciate it. Sorry I started kicking the shit out of you
like that, just didn't understand the situation. Saw red, you know?"
Peter touches his hair
again deftly and, finding it's all still attached to his head, smiles.
"Good to meet you,
dude. Sorry about the bed thing," says Scott. He holds up a hand and I give
it a high five.
"No worries mate."
They squeeze past Slapton.
He looks confused and suspicious as he tries to make sense of the exchange he's
just witnessed.
"Come in," I
tell him. Two junior officers, both struggling with large boxes are obviously very
pleased to hear that. Slapton wanders in and they follow. "Just dump it all
on the floor, here," I say, pointing to a place by the coat rack.
One of the policemen goes
out to get another box while the other produces a piece of paper and asks me to
sign to say I've received them.
"What's the next
stage in the investigation?" I ask Slapton.
He sucks his teeth for
a moment and then says: "Our investigators can't actually find any evidence
of wrongdoing. We've informed your solicitor of that so he'll be giving you a ring
about it soon. Also, none of the investors is willing to assist us with any future
action."
"Really?"
"Yes," says
Slapton through gritted teeth. "Really. They all seem quite happy to have thrown
their money away. Apparently they're very glad to think that you and the others
have spent it all on designer clothes and champagne and...flower displays,"
he snarls.
"Oh, thank God for
that." My second huge relief of the day and it's only eleven thirty. I feel
like I'm on drugs, punch drunk with good news. All I need now is a Lottery win.
"We're really just
back to a missing person’s investigation which doesn't affect me," he says
bitterly. "I go after criminals."
"Well, thanks very
much," I say. I go to open the door.
"There is just one
thing," says Slapton who hasn't moved from his position in the hallway. "I'd
just like you to have a look at something for me. If you don't mind."
"Sure." I don't
like the sound of this.
"Can we...?"
He looks towards the living room.
"Of course,"
I say, leading him in. There is an awkward moment as Slapton sits down before me.
I just want him out of here, so badly. I want this to be a happy, trouble free place
for when Lauren gets back so that we can talk about everything.
He hands me a list of
names.
"Do you know any
of these people?"
I glance down the list.
"I've heard of most
of them," I say, noticing Sir Josh Langdon, Sir James Huntsman and various
other wealthy, glamorous, important names who were at our launch party together
with some others who also at the Huntsman party.
But then, towards the
end, strangely out of alphabetical order, is one name that makes me gasp, almost
audibly. I read it again to make sure, before handing the list back to Slapton.
He's smiling, the bastard.
"Any that jump out
at you?" he says, casually.
"No," I say
gruffly. "No, like I say, I know of them, well, most of them, and I've met
Sir James and Lady Huntsman once but nothing more than that."
"I think there's
at least one there that you know."
I look down again just
to check.
"Yes."
"Recognise some of
them as investors in 2cool?"
"Some of them, yes."
They were on the list of names that I printed off from Piers' computer just after
they disappeared.
"Oh, well. Just wondered,"
says Slapton. He pulls himself up, groaning slightly with the effort. "Well,
thanks again for your help."
"You're welcome."
I lead him out into the hall. The other policemen have already left.
"Sorry to interrupt
when you had visitors," he says, raising one eyebrow very slightly. "Your
girlfriend away is she?"
"She's back tomorrow,"
I tell him.
"I might well be
in touch again about that list," he says. "Goodbye, Mr Barrett."
I know why he's smiling.
It's not my 'visitors'.
He saw me look down that
list and notice that name, the one he wanted to me see, the one name that neither
of us mentioned.
John Barrett.
Why is my dad's name on
that list?
I knew it was too good
to be true. Two lots of good news in one day. Then one bit of awful, confusing,
disturbing news. I wander into the kitchen. My dad's appearance on this list, doesn't
necessarily mean he's done anything wrong, does it?
I pick up my cup absentmindedly
and take a swig of stone cold coffee. But that's certainly the implication. It also
means that he probably invested in 2cool - without telling me - and it means that
Slapton and his mates are probably keeping an eye on him. What if he has done something
dodgy? My poor mum. Bad enough having me all over the papers but my Dad too. And
at least I've been proved, well, am being proved not guilty, whereas I don't know
that that will be the case with my dad.
Then there's the Guy thing.
This morning I was beginning to think that perhaps I was wrong, that perhaps that
wasn't Guy on the phone, that I was just getting obsessed with the whole thing but
now I'm sure it was him.
I take another mouthful
of old coffee, the milk separating on the surface. Urrch! What am I doing? I pick
up my phone and ring Nora in the office.
"Hiya, babe,"
she says. "How are you?"
"All right? You?"
"OK." I'm glad
we can talk about 2cool and not us. "Listen, I've just had the police round
again. They cancelled the fraud investigation. They're just concentrating on a missing
person’s thing now."
"That's great news,"
she says. "I mean especially for you."
"Oh, yeah I know
but there was something else." I tell her about the list.
"So why is your dad's
name doing there?" she asks. "Did he invest in 2cool?"
"Perhaps, but if
he did why hasn't he told me? And anyway, I don't even know that the people on that
list are all 2cool investors. It might be something else."
"What else could
it be?"
"I don't know, I
just don't like the idea of my dad being a list of names put together by the police."
"Sure, I can understand
that. Oh, by the way, did you ask him about the Guy thing?"
"Yeah, he denied
it."
"Mmm. Interesting.
Why would he be lying?"
"I don't know if
he is," I tell her. "Perhaps it wasn't Guy."
"Charlie, you were
absolutely certain yesterday."
"I know, but...Oh,
I don't know."
"Look, I think you
should talk to your dad about that list and ask him about Guy again. Go and see
him at his office today."
"Oh, no, I can't
-"
"Charlie, you've
got to speak to him. You've got to warn him about this thing."
"If he needs to be
warned. It might not be anything."
"He should still
know. Tell me who else was on the list."
I give her the names I
can remember: business people, captains of industry, society ladies, a couple of
earls, some aging rock stars and a few media barons. She scribbles away.
"Another thing: why
do you think none of the investors are suing?" I say. "Why would they
suddenly decide just to kiss good bye to their money like that? Did you see the
TV interview with Josh Langdon. He was asked if he was going to take legal action
to get his money back but someone had a word with him, some advisor or someone,
and he just dodged the question, even though he was obviously really pissed off
about the whole thing."
"Mmm," says
Nora. "Perhaps it doesn't matter to them. Perhaps if you're that rich you just
think what the heck?"
I think about it for a
moment.
"No, that doesn't
make sense. It's the principal for these people, isn't it? Even if it's just the
equivalent of a couple of hundred quid for them, they won't want to look stupid
in front of their mates, like they've been conned, will they?"
"That's true. Not
with their egos."
"And you remember
when we went to see Piers I asked him about that he just sort of smiled, laughed
in fact. Odd, isn't it?"
There is a moment of silence
and then she says: "OK, you go and talk to your dad while I go and see Piers.
I know where he's staying now. I'll go down there right away."
"Alright. Can you
get just leave the office like that?"
"Of course. It's
a story, isn't it?"
"Nora, I'm not sure
that it is."
"What? With these
names? If they're connected in any way this is huge!"
That phrase again. Like
when we went to find Piers. A massive story, she said.
"Yeah, but look Nora,
my dad's on that list and I don't want -"
"Oh, no don't worry
about that, I'm make sure he doesn't come in to it. Now go and talk to him and let
me know what he says."
"But Nora -"
She's hung up.
I ring my dad's mobile
but it goes straight to voicemail. I leave a message asking him to ring me and then
ring his secretary's landline.
"Hi Charlie,"
says his secretary, Amanda, a girl too smart to let him fuck her. "He's in
a board meeting now. It should be finished before lunch."
"Can you ask him
to ring me as soon as he finishes, please. It's important."
"Sure."
"Thanks, Amanda."
The call comes from my
solicitor as Slapton predicted, giving me the all clear from the police. The guy
sounds a bit disappointed that there's nothing more to say on the subject but I'm
not.
I set up my computer again
and check my emails. One’s from my mum's sister, my Auntie Emily, bless her. Hoping
I'm okay. Email Emily, we call her. She's got friends all over the world now. I
suddenly wonder if she ever looked at 2cool. She must have. Did she see that porn?
Did she appreciate the irony? Oh, Emily, irony or not, I really hope you didn't
see it.
I write her a breezy reply
hoping she's well and explaining that the site has closed and that I’m out of trouble
now but my mind's not really on it.
There is only one thing
I can think about at the moment - what I'm going to say to Lauren. So I start to
type out some thoughts: 2cool is over now and so I'm going stop behaving so selfishly
and help with her new TV career but how I think she should spend a little less time
with Peter, because much as I like him (and really did warm to him over breakfast)
she's going out with me, not him.