Little White Lies (9 page)

The theme tune from
CSI
jolts me from my memories.

I wipe my eyes quickly and glance at the phone: Kenny.

“Hi, Kenny, thanks for my birthday text,” I tell him as the call connects. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

“No,” he says agitatedly. “But someone knows.”

“What?” I sit up straight. “What do you mean?”

“You have to come back to your halls, like right now,” he says anxiously. “There are two cards on display in reception with your names on them.”

“Oh crap.” I frown. “Wait—
names
?”

“Yep,” he says grimly. “One of each.”

Oh
shit
!

I speed back to halls, cursing myself for forgetting that cards and parcels aren’t put in the pigeonholes I religiously check every morning, but kept in the office for safekeepin
g—where they’re also prominently displayed behind the window for everyone to see.

I park my car; then, as I enter the foyer, Kenny rushes over to me.

“There you are!” he cries. “I didn’t know what to do—I’ve been hovering in front of the window, trying to block everyone’s view, but the girl behind the desk keeps giving me dirty looks.”

“Thanks, Kenny.” I hurry to the counter. Sure enough, there, stuck to the inside of the glass, are two brightly colored envelopes with my names on them.

Purple: Miss L. Shepherd.

Pink: Miss L. Willoughby-White.

I glare at the pink envelope and recognize Gran’s distinctive swirly handwriting.
How could she forget my pseudonym?

“Hi!” I smile at the girl through the window. “Can I collect my card, please?”

She looks up from her magazine. “ID?”

“Actually, one’s for a friend of mine too,” I say quickly. “Can I collect both?”

“Sorry,” she says. “You can only pick up your own post.”

My heart sinks. Whichever card I collect, either everyone will know it’s my birthday, or everyone will know L. Willoughby-White lives here....

I dig out my driving license.

“Just a sec.” Kenny drags me back outside.

“What are you doing?” I demand, snatching my arm free. “I need to get that card down, now!”

“You can’t show her your real ID!” he hisses, glancing at the other students milling around the reception area. “You’ll blow your cover!”

“But I can’t just leave the envelope there,” I protest. “Anyone could see it.”

“But they won’t know it’s you,” he argues.

“No,” I admit. “But it’s like
advertising
L. Willoughby-White’s here—it’s too dangerous. What if Vix sees it? Or
Christian
?” I shake my head. “It has to come down.”

I hurry back into reception, leaving Kenny outside.

“Hi again.” I smile at the girl. “Sorry about that.”

“ID?” she repeats impatiently.

“Lou!”

I freeze as Vix bounds down the stairs towards me.

“So.” She beams at me as I quickly shove my driving license back into my purse. “Today’s the day, huh?”

“What?” I stare at her.

“Your hot date with Christian!” she cries. “What time’s he coming? Is he taking you on his bike?”

“No way I’m getting on that death trap!” I say, turning to try to block her view of the cards. “He’s meeting me here at noon, then we’ll take my car.”

“Noon’s kind of early for a party,” Vix comments. “It’s a good sign, though—maybe he wants to take you for lunch first? Ooh, you should go to that little Italian on West Street—Kenny and I went yesterday and it makes the best cannelloni I’ve ever tasted.”

Another date?
She kept that quiet. They both did.

“Anyway, what are you doing now?” Vix asks, her gaze straying to the girl at the counter.

“Oh, nothing. Actually, can I borrow some of your makeup again?” I try to steer her away from the desk.

“
Excuse
me, do you want your card or not?” The girl behind the counter glares at me and I feel like glaring straight back at her.

“Card?” Vix’s eyes flick to the envelopes tacked to the window. “Omigosh, it’s your
birthday
? Why didn’t you say anything? Happy birthday!” Vix throws her arms round me.

“ID?” the girl snaps.

I dig out my student ID and pass it to her. “It’s the purple envelope.”

“Looks like it’s someone else’s birthday too.” Vix peers at the other card in the window. “
Miss L. Willoughby-White
...very posh.”

I cross my fingers, praying she doesn’t recognize the name.

“Hey, wasn’t that the surname of the guy who was in that big trial last year?”

My heart plummets.

“You know,” she says. “The one whose daughter’s in a coma?”

“Dunno.” I shrug quickly. “I don’t think so. No, that was Wilson something—”

“No, it wasn’t!” Vix says excitedly. “I remember the newspaper headline:
Black Day for Willoughby-White
! I wonder if they’re related.” Her eyes gleam. “What a scoop that’d be. Do you know what she looks like?” she asks the girl behind the counter, who shrugs as she passes me the purple envelope.

“Vix!” Kenny rushes through the door towards us. “Good morning! Hi, Lou.”

“Hi!” Vix beams, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I wondered if you ladies fancied grabbing some brunch? Unless you’ve got lectures to get to?” he says. “My treat.”

“Great. I’ve got nothing on till this afternoon. Just a sec.” Vix turns back to the girl. “Listen, I’ll give you twenty quid if you call me when L. Willoughby-White comes to collect her mail. Deal?”

“Deal!” the girl says.

“Vix!” I stare at her, horrified. “The girl deserves some privacy, you know?”

“Then she should have changed her name.” Vix winks as she scribbles down her mobile number. I glance at Kenny helplessly.

“Relax, Lou.” Vix smiles. “A good reporter is always on the lookout for a story, that’s all—I haven’t had one juicy assignment since I started at the uni paper!” She moans. “But I wouldn’t print anything she didn’t want me to—I do have ethics—it’d just be really fascinating to talk to her if she is related to that guy. Plus a story like this could really kick-start my career!”

Terrific.

“Anyway, give me two secs to grab my stuff from my room, then let’s go get some food!” Vix turns and disappears up the stairs.

“Are you okay?” Kenny asks as we move away from the counter.

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Bloody Gran!” I run my hands through my hair. “I can’t believe she forgot my name. She was meant to come and visit this weekend too—can you imagine?”

“You’ve dodged a bullet then, eh?” He smiles.

“Twice!” I agree. “If Vix had come down ten seconds later—”

“But she didn’t,” Kenny soothes. “And when someone else is on reception duty later you can come and retrieve... the rest of your mail,” he says, lowering his voice as he eyes the groups of students milling around the foyer. “Lucky it’s still so close to the beginning of term that not everybody knows each other yet.”

“And lucky you spotted it,” I add. “Thanks for the heads-up, Kenny. I guess it’s lucky you were here for your
date,
huh?” I say grudgingly.

“Actually, I wasn’t,” he says. “I just invented that as a diversion.”

I look up. “What?”

“I came to see you.” He pulls a gift box from his jacket pocket. “Happy birthday, Titch.”

I blink, surprised.

“Kenny, I... Thank you.” I open it to find a beautiful silver digital watch. “Wow,” I say, taken aback. “You shouldn’t have—it’s too much.”

“It’s nothing,” he says. “I just wanted you to have a little reminder that I’m here for you. Any time,” he says softly, taking my hand.

I shift uncomfortably. “Kenny... I can’t... I don’t...” I falter. “I can’t accept it—it must have cost a fortune.”
Far more than you’d spend on a present for a friend
...
unless maybe he thinks we’re more than that
.
..?

“What’s money for?” He shrugs. “I’m loaded. Plus now you can literally have two faces.” He points to the face of the watch. “Get it,
Shepherd
?”

“Very funny.” I smile, relieved at his change of tone. This is probably the kind of present he gives all his friends. He
is
minted, after all.

“There’s that beautiful smile—it
is
your birthday, you know!” He beams, and as he fastens my new watch onto my wrist I suddenly feel really bad for ever distrusting him. He’s helped me out of a couple of tricky spots now, without expecting anything in return. I guess that’s what friends do. Maybe it
is
lucky he ended up coming to Sheffield, after all.

“And what better way to celebrate than with a big birthday fry-up?” Kenny adds. “My treat.”

“Actually, I can’t come.” I head for the stairs. “I’ve got to get ready to go out with Christian.”

“What?” The smile drops from Kenny’s face as he rushes after me. “What do you mean, like a date? You’re
dating
Christian now? Are you
insane
?”

“Settle, petal,”
I mimic, rolling my eyes. “It’s not a date.”

“Then what is it?”

“He... invited me to a party, that’s all,” I say. “He owed me a drink.”

“You work in a
bar,
” Kenny reminds me. “You can have a drink any time.”

I roll my eyes again.

“Lou,”
Kenny hisses. “It’s one thing changing your name, and lying about everything to your new friends—”

“Shh!”
I hiss as a group of students pass us on the stairs. Silently, he follows me to my room; then, as soon as the door’s closed behind us, he explodes.

“You can’t be serious, Lou! You can’t
date
this guy! It’s too close. It’s too dangerous.
One
mistake,
one
slipup, and it’s all over—you’ll blow your whole cover!”

“Hypocrite!” I retort. “So, what? I can’t date Christian, but you can date Vix? What’s
that
about?”

“It’s about keeping a very inquisitive investigative reporter off your case,” Kenny counters. “A girl
you
chose to befriend. Plus I like Vix—she’s cool—so what’s the harm? She’s having fun, I’m having fun. But at the same time I’m also looking out for you, Lou, because we’re a
team
.”

“No,” I argue, suddenly finding his concern for me oppressive. “We’re
not
a team. I came here alone, I’m doing it
my
way.”

“Lou, you can’t—”

“Kenny,”
I interrupt. “I’m grateful for your help and your support, really I am, but you do
not
get to tell me what to do. Got it?”

“Look—”

“It’s
my
life,” I tell him. “It’s
my
decision.”

“No, Lou—
look!
” He points out the window.

I spin round to see a man climbing out of a police car and immediately my blood runs ice cold.

“Neil?”

“What the hell is
Neil
doing here?” Kenny stares at me. “Does he know what we did? Does he know it was us?”

“No.” Goose bumps prickle down my back. “He can’t know—there’s no way.”

“Then why’s he come all the way up to Sheffield?”

“I don’t know! To visit?”

“Then why’s he rocked up in a bloody
police
car?”

“I don’t know!”

“He knows it was us who hacked the system,” Kenny panics. “He must have found some evidence. He’s figured it out. We’re going to jail!”

“Calm down!” I tell him firmly. “Panicking won’t help anything. I’ll handle Neil. You take Vix out like you planned. Just keep her well away.”

He nods, pale-faced, as he follows me out of the room. “What about Christian? Shame you’ll have to cancel your date,” he remarks snidely.

“Shit. He’ll be here any minute.” I grab my phone from my pocket and call Christian’s mobile, but it goes to voice mail.

“Christian, hi, it’s Lou,” I say quickly. “I’m really sorry, but there’s been an emergency...”

Kenny smiles as we head down the corridor.

“...
so don’t come and meet me, but if you text me the address of the party, I’ll meet you there as soon as I can, okay? Really sorry. Bye.”

Kenny shakes his head. “You’re crazy.”

“Lou!” Vix bounds up the stairs. “Look who I found in reception—your godfather!”

“Surprise!” Neil beams behind her.

“Neil!” I force a smile as I hurry to hug him. “What are you doing here?”

“And what are
you
doing up here, Kenny?” asks Vix. “I thought we were meeting downstairs?”

“I was trying to convince Lou to come for that fry-up, but it’s a lost cause,” Kenny says, grabbing Vix’s hand. “Let’s go!”

“Lovely to meet you, Neil!” Vix calls as she’s dragged away.

“Nice to meet you too!” Neil watches them go, then turns to me. “Hope I didn’t scare them away?”

“Don’t be silly!” I smile brightly as I lead him quickly back to my room. “What brings you all this way?”

“Aren’t you pleased to see me?”

“Of course!” I say, hastily picking up an empty coffee mug and stack of books and clothes so he can sit down on the only chair. “Sorry about the mess—if I’d known you were coming, I’d have tidied up a bit!”

“You’re a student.” He shrugs. “It’s expected.” He glances at the posters and photos on my walls. “Nice room you’ve got here.”

“Thanks... but how did you know I’d be in?”

“I have my sources.” He raises an eyebrow. “Grace tipped me off that you were heading back to halls.”

I nod. “Right.”

“Anyway, can’t a guy visit his favorite goddaughter without an inquisition?” Neil protests.

I smile weakly. “I’m your
only
goddaughter.”

He shrugs. “Semantics.”

“So you came all this way just to say hi?” I ask nervously.

“Well, no...
,
” he confesses.

Shit.

“Actually, do you fancy going for a coffee or lunch or something?” I say quickly. Whatever he’s here for, it’ll be better if Christian doesn’t suddenly turn up. “I’m sick of the sight of these four walls—it’s like a cell!”

I wince. Bad choice of words.

“First things first,” he says gravely. “Some information has come to light that I seriously hope you can refute, despite the compelling proof.”

I swallow hard. This is it. Kenny was right. We must have left some evidence....

“I just can’t believe it’s true,” Neil says, his eyes pained as he looks at me. “But I have to ask.”

He takes a deep breath and my skin prickles.

“Are you, young lady—my goddaughte
r—guilty of turning
nineteen
years old today?”

“What?” I freeze.

“
Please
tell me it’s not true—it can’t be. That would make me
old
!” He cringes.

I smile tentatively. “ ’Fraid so.”

“Ugh,” he groans. “Then I guess lunch is on me, eh?”

“Definitely.” I smile. “But I’ll drive.”

“On your birthday? Wouldn’t hear of it. We’ll get a cab.” He jabs at his mobile.

“No need,” I insist, “my car’s just downstairs.” And Christian could arrive any second if he hasn’t got my message....

“But you can’t have a drink if you’re driving,” Neil argues. I start to protest, but he holds up a hand. “Yes, mate, can you give me the number for a taxi company in Sheffield, please?”

I keep an anxious eye on the car park while he orders the cab. I can’t risk Neil meeting Christian—
meeting anyone else. Kenny was right—
one
mistake,
one
slipup, one
mention
of my real name... and it’s over.

I stare miserably at my mobile. There’s still no reply from Christian, so I text him as well, just in case.

“Cab’ll be here in five minutes.” Neil smiles. “So how are you finding Sheffield?”

“Oh, hilly.”

He laughs. “That’s what Steve says.”

“Steve?”

“I’m staying with an old mate who joined the Sheffield force last year,” he explains. “He’s the one who dropped me off here.”

I nod, relieved. “Hence the police car.”

He winces. “Sorry, kiddo. I know you’re trying to keep a low profile. I did remember your pseudonym, though.”

Phew. At least that’s something.

“So how’s life as Louise Shepherd?”

“It’s... tricky,” I confess.

“I can imagine.” He nods. “You need to be pretty good at lying.”

My skin prickles. Maybe I’m not out of the woods yet.

“Like I said, it’s tricky. But it’s better than everyone knowing I’m the niece of the most famous inmate in Britain.”

He sighs. “Have you heard from Jim recently?”

I nod. “I got a letter.”

“Me too. I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened. I can’t think of anything else. I can’t stand the thought of him in jail. It’s not right. It’s not justice.”

I nod. “I know.”

“I know you do.” He looks at me. “Jim didn’t do anything wrong. You know that, I know that.”

I nod again.

“If you’re innocent, you should go free, if you break the law, you should pay the price, end of,” he says, his eyes deep in mine. “But the justice system... it makes so many mistakes.” He shakes his head. “It makes me sick that innocent, decent,
good
people like Jim rot in jail, ripped from their loving families, while the guilty live it up, walk free,
get new identities
... It’s not right.
Ever.
”

My blood pounds in my veins.
He knows.
He knows I stole the burglar alarm code, that I’m the one who broke into the building, who hacked the computers. Why I’m really here...

“And we should do everything in our power to make things right, whatever it takes.” He looks at me, hard. “
That’s
why I’m really here.”

Shit. Kenny was right. I’m going to jail. We’re going to jail. It’s over.

“So anything you need—anything at all—call me, okay?”

I blink.

“It’s killing Jim that he can’t be here for you,” Neil sighs. “But I can. I am.”

I stare at him as he takes my hand.

“You’ve already lost one father. I can’t imagine how tough it’s been with Jim gone too. Especially like this.”

I look away.

“So I want you to know I’m here for you, kiddo. Not just today. Just call and I’ll be straight here. I promise. Day or night. Twenty-four seven.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, overwhelmed by his kindness, by his generosity, by guilt.

“No sweat.” He pulls me close and ruffles my hair. “You deserve to be happy. You are my favorite goddaughter, after all.”

A horn beeps outside and I nearly jump out of my skin.

“Taxi’s here.” Neil smiles, peering through the window.

Thank God! I hurry downstairs as fast as I can.

“Someone’s hungry!” Neil laughs as I fling myself into the cab just as Christian’s motorbike roars into the car park.

“Famished!” I agree, slamming the door behind me. “Let’s get out of here.”