True Colours:The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 2(24)

'Are we still just having a walk, miss?' Beefy asks, turning up the  collar of his jacket, as if that's going to stop him getting wet.

'No  … ' I squint at a sign. 'Actually, we're going to Frith Street. I think I might be lost.'

He produces his mobile.

'Shall we use the sat nav?'

'I think so,' I mutter, feeling like a total idiot.

He enters the details and finally points in the direction of the receding van.

'This way, miss. It's not far. I'm afraid I'll have to walk next to you.'

'That's not a problem.'

With an embarrassed smile, I set off again, strangely reassured by  Beefy's presence by my side. Along the way, I decide to find out more  about my new companion but he's giving very little away. By the time  that we make it onto Frith Street, I know that he used to be in the  army, that he's been working in Germany and that he flew in especially  for this job. And by the time that I push open the door to Slaters, I've  managed to glean one little snippet of personal information: he has a  wife and a three-month old son.

'Darling.' Reclined on a sofa with a catalogue on his lap, Little Steve beckons me over. 'What are you doing here?'

I lean down, allowing him to plant a soggy kiss on my cheek.

'I've just come to see Luce.' I straighten up. 'Is she around?'

'Downstairs, sorting through business from Friday. She'll be up in a minute. We've got a cheque for you  … '         

     



 

As soon as I move to one side and sink onto the opposite sofa, Little  Steve's attention is gripped by something near the door. Clearly, I've  just revealed the presence of Mr Beefcake.

'Oh my Lord,' Little Steve gasps. 'Who's this delectable creature?'

'Beefy.'

Little Steve's eyes flip back to me.

'But I thought you were with Dan.'

'I am with Dan. Beefy's my  … ' I falter. This is going to sound distinctly strange. 'He's my bodyguard.'

'Oh, dear God. A bodyguard?' Little Steve clasps a palm to his chest and purses his lips. 'He can guard my body any time.'

'Behave,' Big Steve calls, emerging at the top of the stairs. 'Nice to  see you, Maya.' He inspects Beefy as he prowls past. 'Is this because of  those shenanigans last Friday?'

'Yes.' I grit my teeth. 'Dan's insisting on it.'

I ought to invite Beefy to sit with us, but he quickly takes himself off  to the far end of the room, positioning himself on a red velvet bench.

'Who was that man?' Big Steve enquires, emphasising each word with a grimace. 'He was an awful Scottish prick.'

'An ex-boyfriend.' I look out of the window. I really could do without talking about Boyd.

'With a severe personality disorder,' Lucy intervenes, joining us from  the basement. 'He's been stalking Maya.' She plonks herself next to me,  gawping across the room at Beefy. 'And Dan's come over all protective by  the look of things.' She nudges my arm. 'Is that actually Hulk Hogan  over there?'

I shrug her off.

'Don't stare,' I whisper. 'It's rude.'

'We ought to celebrate your first sale, Maya,' Big Steve announces.  'I'll fetch the vino.' With a flirty glance in Beefy's direction, he  lumbers off to the kitchen.

'I don't know why we're bothering,' I grumble. 'It was Dan who bought it.'

'There was plenty of other interest.' Little Steve throws the brochure  onto the coffee table. 'The sex god just made sure he outbid the  others.' He folds his arms. 'So, how's the painting coming along, my  love?'

'I've finished another canvas.'

'Ooh, what is it?' He claps his hands together. 'Do tell!'

'The South Bank. Southwark Cathedral. Around there.'

He studies me quizzically.

'It's a personal thing,' I explain. 'I probably won't put it up for sale.'

'I'd still like to see it.'

I nod, although I'm pretty sure I'm never going to sell. Before he can  push me any further on the matter, Big Steve returns with the wine,  glasses are poured and we drink a toast to me.

'So,' Big Steve begins. 'Lucy's told us all about the big dramatic thing at your parents' house.'

I choke on a mouthful of wine. 'Pardon? Why?' I watch as Lucy drowns in shame.

'I'm sorry,' she mutters.

'And she told us about the intervention.' Big Steve grins over the rim of his glass.

'Is anything private around here?' I demand. 'And I don't know what that  look's for.' Suddenly, Lucy seems incredibly proud of herself. 'You  lied to me.'

'Well  … ' She shrugs. 'You should be thanking me. It did the job.'

And she's right, of course. Deciding to drop the 'affronted cow' act, I slip her a smile.

'Thank you for being a sneaky bitch.'

She raises her glass.

'Turns out I'm good at it. Anyway, I'm sorry I lied to you, but it had  to be done. You love him and he loves you. Anyone can see that.'

So why can't he say the words, I wonder. I have no idea why he's holding  off, but every time I say them to him, he seems to change the subject.  And maybe it's time for me to change the subject too.

'You packed my stuff.'

'Yup.' Lucy takes a gulp of wine. 'Dan's secretary called me yesterday. Me and Clivey packed it all up last night.'

'Clive?'

'Don't worry, I dealt with your rancid underwear. Your drawers were a  complete bloody mess. I hope you're sorting things out the other end.'

I think of all those expensive, built-in drawers that are now overflowing with randomly-placed items of clothing, and I scowl.

'Ooh, what's that face for?' Little Steve asks, pouting at me.

'What face?'

'Bulldog sucking a wasp, darling. You've just moved in with him. Is he cheesing you off already?'         

     



 

'No.' I blow out a lungful of air. Instead of brooding over the drawers,  my brain has decided to brood over Dan. 'Well, yes.' Another lungful.  'Oh, I don't know. It's all a bit quick. I just wish he'd slow down.'

I hear a snort.

'It's like the tortoise and the hare.' Lucy waves her glass at me. 'And she's the tortoise.'

'Is she?' Big Steve's eyebrows shift upwards. 'What's the problem then? If I remember rightly, the tortoise won in the end.'

A few moments of silence pass between us.

'So, when's the sale going through?' I ask, desperate to shift the conversation away from my love life.

'Probably next week.' Big Steve eyes me carefully.

'And who's the new owner?'

'Nobody interesting. Some American chap. He likes what we've built up  and wants to keep it going. He's buying the top floors too.' He points  at the ceiling. 'He wants to expand, but he's not going to be a hands-on  owner. He's giving Lucy more of a say in the general running of things,  day-to-day  …  and a rise.'

While Big Steve snakes an arm around the back of Little Steve's head, Lucy rubs her thumb and forefinger together.

'Now, honey buns  … ' With a squeeze of his partner's shoulder, Big Steve  stands up. 'Let's get back to work. We've got a camper van to buy.'

The two men set about hanging a landscape in the gallery, roping in  Beefy to hold the canvas up against a wall while they bicker over its  exact placing. And I take my opportunity.

'I've got something to show you.'

Lucy's face lights up with excitement.

'Shuffle round a bit. Put your back to them. I don't want thunder thighs seeing this.'

Once Lucy's in place, I reach into the side pocket of my handbag and lay out the pieces of card between us on the sofa.

'What's this?'

'I found it in his bin,' I whisper, making sure that Beefy's still fully  engaged by the faffing Steves. 'It's Dan's birthday on Friday.'  Rearranging the pieces, I slot them into place, revealing the message.

'This is a birthday card from one of his sisters.'

Lucy's eyes widen. 'He tore up a birthday card from his sister?'

She stares in amazement at the mess on the sofa. I read the message out loud.

'Happy birthday, Dan. This is my new address. Hoping we can be friends some day.'

'Ooh.'

'She wants to get back in touch, but he's having none of it.' I tap a  piece of card and continue quickly. 'Layla. She's the one who found him,  the one who saved his life, and he doesn't want anything to do with  her.'

Thinking deeply, Lucy chews at her lip. 'Why not?'

'He says it's complicated.'

'What does that mean?'

'I have no idea. He won't talk about it.'

'Maybe it's his childhood. Maybe he just doesn't want to think about  it.' She sucks in a breath. 'Emotional constipation. And that's not  good.'

I move a piece, just slightly.

'So what should I do?'

Lucy shrugs.

'You could always go and see her.'

'What?'

'Go and see her. You've got an address. Limmingham. Clive says you've  got a car. If he won't talk, you can always talk to her. Maybe you can  …   I don't know  …  help him sort it out.'

As if she can't quite believe what she's just said, she stares at me, wide-eyed.

'That's dicing with danger,' I murmur.

'I know,' she murmurs back.

We don't get the chance to discuss the matter any further. At the sound  of approaching footsteps, I gather together the fragments and stuff them  back into my handbag. Within seconds, the Steves flop down onto the  sofa, helping themselves to more wine while Beefy goes back to propping  himself up on a fancy stool.

'He's a nice bloke,' Little Steve remarks. 'You'll have to bring him again.'

Big Steve lays a warning hand on Little Steve's lap.

'You're mine, little man. Don't you forget it.'

'Oh, he's so possessive,' Little Steve chuckles. 'So, what are you doing with the rest of the day, Maya?'