Digging Deeper (3 page)

She’d lost her job even before she lost Marcus and now there was no chance of ever surging up the corporate ladder because she’d been dismissed for theft. It made Flick feel sick when she thought about it so she tried not to. She’d been accused and found guilty without being given the chance to defend herself or find out what had really happened. Now she was stuck in the basement of a building without stairs and no bloody ladder in sight.

Forty thousand pounds had appeared like magic in her bank account. Flick rang the bank, but they said it wasn’t a mistake. Before she could even speak to her boss, the whole thing had blown up in her face. Flick gave back the money but it wasn’t enough. Another hundred and forty thousand was missing. The finance department investigated and it all pointed to her. Apparently.

Flick had moved from the theory of mistake, to one of being set up but she didn’t know by whom or why. Grinstead’s offered to let the matter drop if she repaid the rest because they didn’t want the bad publicity. Flick wouldn’t and couldn’t pay. In any case, letting the matter drop would not give her back her job. Her letters asking them to investigate further came back unanswered. She’d turned up at the office day after day and no one would speak to her. She’d gone to the managing director’s house and he’d called the police. She didn’t know what else she could do, but she’d been saving every penny for months. The longer Grinstead’s delayed, the more chance she had of paying lawyers to fight them, though it hurt having to spend money defending herself when she’d done nothing.

Flick had not told her housemates or sister. Far too humiliating, especially with Kirsten training to be a lawyer. Flick had used the lie of redundancy, but she hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to get another job. She couldn’t ask Grinstead’s for a reference. Filling in application forms for jobs that matched her qualifications was fraught with problems and the poor response unsurprising.

In the end, with Stef demanding new clothes and spouting the words “compulsory textbooks”, two words guaranteed to hit Flick’s guilt spot, she had given up looking for jobs she’d like and taken anything she could get. At her last count Flick had seven jobs. Six of them low-paid menial work with odd hours, and one that happened to pay more than all the others put together. While Kirsten and Josh thought she worked in a gas station on the Leeds ring road, Flick danced around a pole in Polecats, a city center night club.

Why tell anyone when she knew what their reaction would be? Kirsten and Josh would be horrified and Marcus would have asked her for free admittance. But she hadn’t had to tell Marcus because the miserable bastard of a boyfriend had suddenly announced he was jetting off to Australia, a trip combining business and pleasure.

When Flick turned up at the airport to bid him a surprise farewell, she wasn’t sure who was the more surprised of the three of them—her, Marcus or the busty blonde he had his arm around. When Flick saw them kiss, anger swamped hope, sat on its head and knifed it to death. She made sure her face showed nothing as she walked over.

Flick spoke before Marcus could. “I came to say goodbye. Have a lovely time.”

“Flick? What…er…thanks. Er…this is Briony, my research assistant.” Marcus kept swallowing, his nervous habit, not that Flick needed any more evidence of his lies.

She turned to the woman. “You are obviously a special person, Briony. Not many people could cope with Marcus’ problem. Has it flared up yet?”

She turned and walked off feeling somewhat lighter in spirit. She heard Marcus behind her.

“Flick.”

She kept walking, but Marcus grabbed her and pulled her around. Over his shoulder Flick saw Briony glaring.

“I’ll ring you when I get back,” he said.

Flick jerked away. “Don’t bother coming back on my account.”

“Don’t be like that.” Marcus tried to take hold of her hand.

“If you touch me again, I’ll tell everyone at Yorkshire Television how you liked to wear my underwear when you were on camera.”

Worked like a charm.

For some considerable time after that final meeting, Flick had thought it very big of her not to have informed airport security that Marcus had a thousand pounds’ worth of cocaine stuffed up his backside. The irony was, he probably did.

The week before he’d announced he was off to Oz, Marcus had told her he loved her. She’d experienced such a flood of emotion, she almost cried. Flick didn’t cry. Apart from her mum and dad, Marcus was the only person who’d ever said he loved her. But he’d lied, because if he loved her he wouldn’t have wanted to go so far away and he wouldn’t have gone without her. If he loved her, he’d have asked her to wait or go with him. She’d have found a way. If he loved her, he would have told her he was taking Briony. If Flick loved him, she’d have understood.

The breakup changed Flick, broke something inside her. One moment she’d been the most important person in the world to another human being and the next discarded. The physical pain that came with that knowledge had been so bad, she’d thrown up.

Miserable Bastard still emailed her, as if there was a possibility of a happy reunion when he returned. Flick deleted the messages without reading them. She wouldn’t take Marcus back if he came as a free gift in a pack of cereal. In fact, Flick hoped a shark ate him, or one particular bit of him, preferably a great white with hundreds of razor-sharp teeth.

———

Earlier that day, Beck had checked out the rental house and been relieved to find it clean and spacious. The family who owned it had gone to America for three months and been happy to accept a short-term let to bolster the mortgage. Beck had already moved into one of the smaller rooms with a single bed. He’d not missed the way Dina looked at him, nor the accidental brushes against his body. Rich might intend to sleep his way though the year group but Beck wanted to keep his job.

Almost before he’d come to a halt in the drive, four of the students scrambled to get out of the van. The moment Beck unlocked the front door, they raced upstairs to stake their claim to a bed. Only Jane lingered. Dina shrieked.

“Better go choose your room,” Beck said.

“No point. I’ll be in the smallest. I don’t mind.”

“You might end up sharing with Dina.”

A look of horror flashed across her face before she dashed upstairs.

The three-storey Edwardian house had six bedrooms. Since Beck had to keep a room free for Isobel, two would have to share. When Matt and Ross discovered a Wii and a stack of games in the wardrobe of the room with twin beds, the decision was easy. Pravit and Jane took rooms in the roof space. Dina stood proprietarily in the doorway of the master bedroom, the only room with an en suite, though the rooms in the attic had washbasins. Beck had thought about saving the largest room for Isobel, but he suspected she wouldn’t be bothered where she slept, whereas giving Dina a bathroom of her own would probably prevent the others strangling her on the first day. Beck smiled when he saw Matt and Ross struggle upstairs with her suitcases.

Remembering all too well what he’d been like when he was nineteen, Beck sat them down in the living room and had a chat about responsible behavior, how he expected them to look after the house and themselves. Then he handed over keys. Beck guessed that had someone sat him and Giles down and had the same chat, it would have made no difference to what they got up to. That didn’t mean the chat shouldn’t happen.

Beck and Giles met on their first day at Cambridge. Within hours, Giles had introduced Beck to the dubious delights of alphabet shagging—sleeping with girls whose names ran from A to Z. For the difficult letters, like Q, U, X and Y, middle names were deemed acceptable. Their first summer vacation had been more of an education to Beck than the previous nine months of university. Beck winced when he thought about it. As he cast his eyes over the group in front of him, he felt too young to play parent but he did feel responsible for their welfare, so he plowed on. Judging by the looks on their faces when he’d finished talking, he’d made his point.

He hoped his best man’s speech went down better. Maybe he ought to write it.

Dina tried to look as though she was listening to what Beck said but her mind swirled with thoughts of the redhead in the supermarket. Dina had been furious when she’d seen the Object of her Obsession talking to Competition. One glance had been enough to take it all in. Long legs. Short skirt. Tight top. Weird hair. Beck’s face. Dina hadn’t turned down a month in Italy to have someone cheat her out of Professor Beckett. Eliminate all competition was number three in the list of tips in her book
Helpful Hints For Single Girls
. The first thing she’d packed. Jane, the only other female in the group, might be cleverer but she was fat, boring and not worth worrying about. What Dina hadn’t anticipated, was that Beck might know someone who lived here.

None of the boys from her year group were worth a second glance. After all, they were just boys. Matt was funny but too short, Ross was the right height but only he thought he was funny, and Pravit was a dork. Of course she knew all three of them wanted to sleep with her, but she was already taken, or at least soon would be.

Dina had expected a night in watching TV with Beck by her side so she could work on her seduction technique, but once she realized he was going to a dinner party and the redhead would be there too, she decided she might as well go clubbing in Leeds with the others. She put on her best outfit and applied her “you-know-you-want-me” makeup. She’d just have to tease Beck with what could be his.

“Show your man your best assets.”
Sleek, silver and very short, her dress left little to the imagination. She stepped in front of the mirror and jutted out her bum, giving a little twitch. Perfect. Dina wriggled her painted toes inside her high heels, then turned and checked over her shoulder, giving herself a coy smile. All she wore underneath the dress was a mini thong. Beck would have to be made of stone not to fancy her. The boys would drool. They could each have one dance. They’d make excellent guard dogs in case anyone pestered her.

Once Flick finished her bath, she wrapped herself in a towel and sat in the kitchen so Kirsten could rescue her hair.

“Pierce can’t make it to lunch tomorrow, so Mum wondered if you’d like to come instead,” Kirsten said.

“So I’m the booby prize?” Flick pretended to be annoyed and Kirsten yanked on her hair.

“You’re not second choice. Mum wanted me to ask you and Josh, but he’s not back until tomorrow night.”

“Weeelll…”

“I’ll tell her you can’t come.”

“That was me wavering,” Flick said. “Keep trying.”

Kirsten snapped the scissors near Flick’s ear. “Mum said she’ll do lots of parsnips.”

Flick’s mouth watered. “Mmm.”

“And roast potatoes,” Kirsten teased.

“Shall I bring mint sauce?”

“Mum’ll make some. Though why you want mint sauce with beef, I do not know.”

“I like mint sauce with everything.”

Kirsten pulled Flick’s hair through the straighteners. “I know. Even ice cream, you freak.”

Flick licked her lips. “By the way, Stef rang this morning. She’s back in Cambridge.”

“Did she have a good time in Aruba with Drew?”

“Wonderful.”

How could she not? Her younger sister Stef had just completed the second year of her Land Economy course at Cambridge University. Friends with the polo crowd, although unable to ride herself, she’d accepted an invitation to spend two weeks at the home of an American friend’s parents.

“So is Drew her boyfriend?” Kirsten asked.

“No idea.”

Too many men in her sister’s life to keep track. Stef tended to chew her guys around for a while, eat the tasty bits and spit out what remained. Drew had paid for Stef’s ticket and made it clear she wouldn’t have to bother changing any currency, though that hadn’t stopped her asking Flick to send money just in case and, of course, Flick had. Plus she had Stef’s credit card bill to look forward to. Her sister’s idea of being careful with money was like a juggler choosing to play with knives instead of fire.

“How much money did you give her?” Kirsten asked.

How did Kirsten know what she’d been thinking? “Three hundred pounds.”

“And did she run out?” Kirsten picked up the scissors again.

“Not once she found she could get cash on the credit card.”

“Eeek. You have to stop her doing that. You can’t afford it.”

“I know.” Flick sighed.

“What is it with you two? You let her help herself to your favorite clothes and you’re always sending her money. You put on the martyr robe the moment Stef’s name comes up.”

“She’s my sister. I’m all she’s got,” Flick snapped and then winced. “Sorry.”

———

Beck drove the minivan down the hill through the centre of Ilkley, on over the river to the other side of the valley and up to Hartington Hall. He still had trouble believing Giles was getting married. Five months ago, all in one breath, Giles announced he planned to move back to West Yorkshire, marry Willow, wanted Beck as his best man and did he know a girl whose name began with X so he could finish the alphabet shagging game? Beck hoped that last part was a joke.

He and Giles had rooms on the same staircase in college and shared a house in the second year. In their third year, they’d opted again for college accommodation but spent less time together. Beck chose to study while Giles chose to sleep with Harriet, Irina, Kate, Penelope and Zoe, and unearthed a few more drinking societies to join. Beck deserved his First class degree, while Giles did not deserve his Second class one.

The summer after finals, they’d ended up going on holiday to Portugal where Giles continued the game. V for Veronica had no boyfriend, fell for Giles and did everything she could to make sure they stayed attached. When Giles dumped V for an elusive E for Eloise, Veronica had slapped Beck on the face as if it were his fault. Beck had no idea how Giles got away with it. Now he was marrying Willow Shadwell and Beck couldn’t help but wonder if Giles had given up on the game when he couldn’t find an X and not because he was marrying a W.