Forget Me Never (12 page)

I took a breath. ‘So . . . Dani starts working at V-B. She and Aiden get together. With Cherie and this other guy Patrick they come up with a plan to make lots of money, probably involving
some new drug. It involves Dani getting access to some files. Whether she did that before getting out, we don’t know.’ Maybe she’d been afraid – or maybe she’d
realized what they were doing was wrong. I had to hold on to that. ‘Aiden had unfinished business with Dani, because a few weeks after she leaves V-B he goes to see her in Bournemouth.’
I frowned. ‘I wonder why they haven’t got the money yet. They can’t have, else surely Aiden wouldn’t still be at V-B. He’d have got the hell out, in case he was
discovered . . .’

Reece sat back in his chair, folding his arms. He closed his eyes a second, then opened them. ‘Trial results.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Aiden’s email mentioned waiting for some trial results. That’s not something they can rush. That’s why things are still ongoing and the deal’s not been
finalized.’

How had this got so complicated? All I’d wanted was to know what had happened to my cousin. And here it was taking me into something far bigger than I’d ever anticipated –
something that was scary and real. Drug trials, payments, secret data – I didn’t care about any of this. I’d happily walk away if it wasn’t for Danielle.

Reece must have known what I was thinking, because he said, ‘Aiden didn’t kill Dani, Soph. We know this for a fact. We also know that there was no one else on that balcony. If she
was murdered, something clever went on.’

I sighed, wishing things were clearer cut. ‘I know Aiden didn’t kill her. The police have his credit-card receipt. That couldn’t be faked.’

‘Maybe the service station on the M3’s in on it too,’ Reece said.

I shot him an annoyed look. ‘Be serious.’

‘I am! You suspect Danielle was murdered. I’m trying to come up with theories.’

‘Stupid ones!’

We glared at each other. Realizing there was no point taking this out on Reece, I held up my hands. ‘Let’s chill. All we’re doing is getting each other’s backs up. Shall
we call it a day and meet up tomorrow?’

‘OK. Half five here?’

‘You’re not seriously thinking about going into V-B again? Come on! Whether Cherie meant what she said or not, that’s just being stupid for hell of it. It’s not worth the
risk.’

‘Maybe I’ll make up my mind when I get up in the morning,’ Reece said airily, getting to his feet. There was no getting through to him in this mood, I could see. I hated it
when he was like this. Part of me was just a little bit impressed though.

I went into Vaughan-Bayard the next day.

Mr McIntyre was chatting with the receptionist when I came through the doors. He looked surprised to see me.

‘Hello, Reece. Donna here was just telling me you called Cherie to say you had some kind of bug.’

‘I got better quickly,’ I said.

McIntyre blinked several times, then evidently decided to let it go. ‘Well, good. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on the barbecue tomorrow. I’ve friends coming who I think
you’ll want to meet.’

I bet he meant retired cricketers! I tried to get him to tell me, but he wouldn’t.

‘Patience, young man. Now, listen, I know you’ve been working hard all week, doing filing and other jobs we never get around to, and I hope you’ve found it informative. We
usually give the work-experience students a cash gesture, but I thought this might be more appropriate.’

He reached into his briefcase and took out an envelope. I opened it.

‘Tickets for the test match at the Oval? No way! Thank you.’

‘I know someone who works at the ground – got a good deal. It’s not for a couple of weeks, but it’s something to look forward to, eh?’

All thoughts of Cherie and her threats were wiped from my mind. ‘Chuffed’ did not begin to describe how I felt.

‘It’s amazing,’ I said. To my embarrassment I felt slightly emotional, which McIntyre evidently picked up on, as he made an awkward ‘ahem’ sound. ‘Best thing
you could’ve given me. Thank you
so
much.

I didn’t see Cherie until lunchtime. When I spotted her behind me in the queue I felt myself go cold. There was no way I could avoid her seeing me. Sure enough, as I was
carrying my tray to a table, Cherie looked straight at me. I froze, fighting to stay composed. She raised her eyebrows – and that was it. When she’d collected her lunch she breezed past
as though I wasn’t there. Somehow that was scarier than being confronted. A few chairs away I saw Aiden watching, an odd look on his face.

I wasn’t really sure what had made me so reckless. When I’d woken up, I planned on staying home. But then I’d thought of Cherie’s supremely irritating confidence and
pictured the smug look that would no doubt cross her face when she realized she’d won. I bet no one had ever said no to her. I’d show her I wasn’t some kid she could
intimidate.

And I didn’t want Sophie to think I was a wuss. That was hugely important – though going by how pissed off she was when I met her at McDonald’s after work, I needn’t have
bothered.

‘Fine. It’s brave, but going in today achieved
nothing
,’ she kept saying. In the end I left, though I had intended to ask if she wanted to go bowling. When I got home Mum and
Neve were doing a puzzle on the living-room floor, right as rain. Later, when it got dark, I got a little paranoid and went to the window several times in the night to check no one was outside.
Nothing happened though, and on Saturday morning I was feeling on top of the world again.

Cherie’s threats worried me enough to call Reece on Saturday morning. He was usually up earlier than me – he preferred doing things to lying in – but I waited
until ten, just to show I wasn’t
that
concerned. He picked up on the fourth ring, sounding irritatingly perky.

‘Hey – newsflash! I’m still alive! So are Mum and Neve. Told you it’d be OK.’

If he’d been in front of me, I’d have smacked him. ‘Not funny.’

I heard a mumble in the background; Reece wasn’t alone. It was probably the cricket guys; he usually had practice on Saturday mornings. Suddenly I felt like I was intruding –
I’d just assumed he’d be on hand to hang out today.

‘So . . .’ Reece said. I heard scuffling and the volume of voices lessened, as though he was walking away. ‘Fancy that barbecue tonight?’

I sighed. ‘Are you trying to prove how unscared and macho you are? Give over!’

‘It’ll be
fine
! Mr McIntyre all but said there’d be cricketers coming. I’m not missing that. Cherie and Aiden might not show. Even if they do, they won’t try anything on in a
crowded place. Stop being such a worry-guts.’

Reece went on at me until I agreed to go with him – sometimes with Reece it was easiest to just do as he said. And I had to admit I was curious to see the people Dani had worked with. Only
a few had showed at her funeral. Maybe someone would be able to tell me something, especially if they’d had a bit to drink.

We met at seven outside Hampstead tube station. When the lift doors opened and Reece stepped out I did a bit of a double take. I’d never seen him looking this smart
before – he was generally a jeans, T-shirt and trainers person. As he came through the barriers I said, ‘Since when do you do waistcoats and trendy shirts?’

Reece made a face at me. He’d done something to his hair too – sort of slicked parts of it up. It made him look very different – and actually pretty cool. ‘Goodness sake,
Soph! I told you this was a smart do. Couldn’t you have made an effort? Like, even a tiny one? I bet you didn’t even change before coming out.’

‘Free country.’ I felt defensive; while people from school often laughed at my clothes, Reece never had. I was wearing my usual denim shorts, cardi and a sleeveless top I’d
sewn patches of patterned material on to. Feeling self-conscious, I glanced away, fiddling with my necklace.

Reece made a sighing noise. ‘I know you’re into the charity-shop thing, and that’s cool, but treating yourself to something wouldn’t hurt.’

‘When did you become Gok Wan?’ I snapped. ‘Like what, exactly?’

Reece pointed at a shop across the road. One of the window models wore a yellow-green dress – quite short and very plain apart from black lace on the neckline.

‘You’d look all right in that,’ he said. Then, hastily, ‘Not that you don’t look nice the rest of the time. And not like I, y’know, actually
care
what
you wear. Just saying it might make you feel good to have a few new things.

‘I couldn’t afford that shop,’ I said curtly. It made me feel funny when Reece mentioned how I looked . . . not bad funny, but I didn’t know how to react.
‘Let’s go, OK?’

We didn’t really talk on the way to the house. I was still feeling weird about the clothes conversation, and Reece seemed a little embarrassed by it too. As soon as we
arrived, though, things were back to normal. I knew Hampstead was a posh area, so I wasn’t surprised to find that the house was big – three storeys, with a fancy front, twirly railings
and even a balcony. The gate to the back garden was open so we headed around the house and came out on to a patio. About forty people were standing chatting, a barbecue to one side. I breathed in
the smell of charcoal and cooking meat – it always reminded me of summer. Reece’s eyes lit up when he saw the long buffet table, which was stacked with salads, dips, pastries, tarts and
a variety of desserts.

‘This is a bit of all right!’

A black dog raced in our direction and leaped up at us, rubbing his head against me. Almost bowled over by his enthusiasm, I backed away.

‘Hello, Reece!’ A man wearing braces and a checked shirt appeared. He took hold of the dog’s collar; this must be Mr McIntyre. ‘Glad you could make it. I see Mike’s
been giving you a grand welcome.’

I took me a moment to realize he was talking about the dog. What kind of a name for a dog was
Mike
?

McIntyre continued, ‘He’s an ex-racing greyhound – used to enter him at Walthamstow before it closed. Made me quite a bit of money, didn’t you, Mister Mike? He’s
retired now.’

‘Is he normally this . . . friendly?’ Reece asked.

McIntyre smiled. ‘Mike loves people – he’s very affectionate. But then most greyhounds are – they make fantastic pets, very docile and surprisingly lazy. But where are my
manners? I’m pleased to see you’ve brought a friend with you.’

Reece laughed a little nervously.

I felt my cheeks colour – the way ‘friend’ had been said implied something else. ‘Er . . . this is Sophie. Soph, this is Mr McIntyre. Y’know, V-B’s head of
research.’

McIntyre asked us what we wanted to drink and fetched a couple of glasses. I sipped at my lemonade, half listening to Reece and McIntyre discussing greyhounds and cricket as I looked around.
None of the people here looked familiar – but then they wouldn’t, would they? I’d never really talked to Dani’s colleagues apart from Cherie. Now we were here I wasn’t
sure about this.

‘Hey.’ Reece brushed my arm. The warmth of his fingers made my skin tingle. ‘Graham Heffer’s here! He retired from Middlesex a couple of years ago. He was the guy that
made a century when we went to Lord’s with my dad that time, remember?’

I’d thought Reece might be exaggerating about real cricketers being here; evidently not. Suddenly we were back on familiar ground; I felt relieved. Reece’s cricket brain I could deal
with. ‘What are we waiting for?’

We helped ourselves from the barbecue and buffet and located Graham Heffer at the end of the garden.

Reece took a deep breath. ‘I’m dying from an excess of cool right now. Be honest – have I gone really red? Am I going to make a prat of myself?’

‘You’ll live,’ I said. ‘Hey, I’ll join you in a sec. Going to pop to the bathroom. Hold my plate.’

I made my way back to the house and found a toilet next to the kitchen. As I locked the door I heard a familiar voice outside and froze.

Aiden! It sounded like he was having a conversation with someone very nearby – perhaps they’d stepped into the kitchen after me. I quickly realized what a fix I was in – if
Aiden was that close he’d definitely spot me. And I couldn’t hide in the loo forever!

For what seemed like ages I stayed where I was. Aiden and his friend were talking about films – it didn’t seem like they were going to move on any time soon. But then, just as I was
thinking I’d better make a break for it, a mobile phone rang. It must have been Aiden’s, for he apologized to his friend and I heard footsteps pass by. ‘Hi, babe,’ I heard
him say. ‘Just let me step outside.’

He must be going to the front of the house. I waited a few more seconds, then opened the door. The hall was empty – Aiden’s friend had moved on. As I hurried out into the garden, it
struck me that the call might have been Cherie. Who else would Aiden call ‘babe’? This might be an opportunity . . .

There was an alley by the side of the house to the front. Without giving myself time to reconsider, I went down it. As I got to the end, I heard Aiden’s voice.

‘No, I can’t just give him a ring!’ He sounded on edge, the words coming out quickly – quite a contrast to how he’d been a few minutes ago. ‘He’ll get
nasty if we fuss about money again – asking for more is just going to cause ill feeling.’ He paused, presumably listening to Cherie. ‘But Patrick knows the day the trial results
are due. We can’t buy more time. It’s pretty certain that we’re going to have to develop the drug further. The side effects are too much of an issue.’ Another pause.
‘No, Patrick won’t find out! I’m not telling him, neither are you, and Dani isn’t around to have another attack of conscience.’

Dani? Attack of conscience? I pricked up my ears.

‘Stop having a go at me, Cherie!’ Aiden snapped. ‘Couldn’t this have waited until I got back? Listen, maybe we should get out while we can. This is getting too
complicated – and dangerous! If we go ahead with everything now, Patrick’s guys will find out we’re not giving them the real deal. He’s got contacts, here and in Brazil.
They’ll come after us! Too many people are getting their fingers burned, and anyway, I don’t know how comfortable I am handing over something that has serious side effects. Look,
now’s not the time to talk about this, I’ve got to get back outside. Later, OK?’