Danielle’s
time. And Sean’s. “Were you aware that Marcus owns Tanya’s apartment?”
“Sure. So what? He’s in the property business.”
“Nothing. Just wondering, that’s all.”
Fen sighed. “Look, Danielle’s allegations were just that and nothing
more. Marcus and Tanya? Never.” She gave her head a vehement shake. “He only
set her up in the apartment after Sean died. But come to think of it, he owned
that one, too. As I understand it, it was part of her-slash-their salary
package.”
“I’m not suggesting anything, Fen, just trying to feel my way
through a maze and coming up against a lot of dead ends. You see, I can’t
believe Tanya intended to kill herself, but if she did, I need to understand
why. And why didn’t she leave a suicide note?”
Fen’s expression softened. “Suicides don’t always leave notes.
Sean’s death left her feeling as if she had fallen into a bottomless pit. She
couldn’t talk without crying. It was heartbreaking to watch.”
Swallowing hard, Jemma fought back tears. “She reached out to
someone. Who, Fen?”
CHAPTER
14
Death and sex. If intercourse was
life affirming, pregnancy was the ultimate. In her grief, Tanya had reached out
to someone, but whom? Fen denied knowing of any post-Sean relationship, but
whether she knew of it or not, it had happened. Jemma wasn’t naïve enough to
believe in the immaculate conception.
Sighing, she
switched on the television and channel-surfed. Anything to thwart her obsessing
about the man Tanya had unprotected sex with in the aftermath of her fiancé’s
demise. Copulating lions filled the screen. She flicked to the next station:
mourners at a funeral. Sex and death. She hit the off button.
Her mobile
rang. The caller’s number was withheld. She hesitated, her finger poised over
the end button, and then changed her mind.
“Hello?”
“Jemma, Marcus
Bartlett.”
She breathed
out.
“Is everything
okay? Anything you need?”
“Thanks for your
concern, but I’m fine.”
“Pleased to
hear that. But if there is anything, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”
“Come to think
of it, there is something. Can you give me Ash’s phone number? I forgot to ask
him for it.”
“Ashley’s phone
number?”
“I understand if
you don’t feel comfortable giving it to me, in which case, would you mind
passing on mine to him?”
“I didn’t realize
you two had met.”
“I met him the
same day I bumped into you and Danielle on your way to lunch.” The words were
out of her mouth before she could stop them.
His voice took
on a brusqueness. “Wednesday?”
She winced.
“Yes. Is there a problem?”
“Not yours.” He
paused. “I’ll be in touch. Good day.” Click.
Dumbstruck, she
could do little except stare at her mobile phone. She didn’t know what trouble
Ash was in, but she knew she had somehow dropped him in it. And with no way of
contacting him, she couldn’t warn him.
She rose from
the couch and headed to the kitchen. In the throes of pouring herself a glass
of ice-cold Chablis, her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number.
“Hi—”
“Ash!”
“That’s my
name.”
She took a
breath. “Sorry, you caught me by surprise.”
“Good I hope.”
“I was going to
phone you, but I didn’t have your number.”
“Likewise, but
I managed to wangle yours from Fen.”
“You didn’t get
it from Marcus?”
“What’s my
father got to do with anything?” Ash asked, his tone no longer light-hearted.
“Only that he
rang earlier and I asked him for your phone number. He seemed a bit taken aback
that we had met.”
“I bet he did.”
“Did I do
something I shouldn’t have?”
“Not you, me.
As far as dear old Dad is concerned, I’m still supposed to be holed up in a
dank London office making him squillions.”
“Oh Ash, I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t worry
about it. No harm done. His bark is worse than his bite.”
Somehow she
doubted that. Men like Marcus
time. And Sean’s. “Were you aware that Marcus owns Tanya’s apartment?”
“Sure. So what? He’s in the property business.”
“Nothing. Just wondering, that’s all.”
Fen sighed. “Look, Danielle’s allegations were just that and nothing
more. Marcus and Tanya? Never.” She gave her head a vehement shake. “He only
set her up in the apartment after Sean died. But come to think of it, he owned
that one, too. As I understand it, it was part of her-slash-their salary
package.”
“I’m not suggesting anything, Fen, just trying to feel my way
through a maze and coming up against a lot of dead ends. You see, I can’t
believe Tanya intended to kill herself, but if she did, I need to understand
why. And why didn’t she leave a suicide note?”
Fen’s expression softened. “Suicides don’t always leave notes.
Sean’s death left her feeling as if she had fallen into a bottomless pit. She
couldn’t talk without crying. It was heartbreaking to watch.”
Swallowing hard, Jemma fought back tears. “She reached out to
someone. Who, Fen?”
CHAPTER
14
Death and sex. If intercourse was
life affirming, pregnancy was the ultimate. In her grief, Tanya had reached out
to someone, but whom? Fen denied knowing of any post-Sean relationship, but
whether she knew of it or not, it had happened. Jemma wasn’t naïve enough to
believe in the immaculate conception.
Sighing, she
switched on the television and channel-surfed. Anything to thwart her obsessing
about the man Tanya had unprotected sex with in the aftermath of her fiancé’s
demise. Copulating lions filled the screen. She flicked to the next station:
mourners at a funeral. Sex and death. She hit the off button.
Her mobile
rang. The caller’s number was withheld. She hesitated, her finger poised over
the end button, and then changed her mind.
“Hello?”
“Jemma, Marcus
Bartlett.”
She breathed
out.
“Is everything
okay? Anything you need?”
“Thanks for your
concern, but I’m fine.”
“Pleased to
hear that. But if there is anything, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”
“Come to think
of it, there is something. Can you give me Ash’s phone number? I forgot to ask
him for it.”
“Ashley’s phone
number?”
“I understand if
you don’t feel comfortable giving it to me, in which case, would you mind
passing on mine to him?”
“I didn’t realize
you two had met.”
“I met him the
same day I bumped into you and Danielle on your way to lunch.” The words were
out of her mouth before she could stop them.
His voice took
on a brusqueness. “Wednesday?”
She winced.
“Yes. Is there a problem?”
“Not yours.” He
paused. “I’ll be in touch. Good day.” Click.
Dumbstruck, she
could do little except stare at her mobile phone. She didn’t know what trouble
Ash was in, but she knew she had somehow dropped him in it. And with no way of
contacting him, she couldn’t warn him.
She rose from
the couch and headed to the kitchen. In the throes of pouring herself a glass
of ice-cold Chablis, her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number.
“Hi—”
“Ash!”
“That’s my
name.”
She took a
breath. “Sorry, you caught me by surprise.”
“Good I hope.”
“I was going to
phone you, but I didn’t have your number.”
“Likewise, but
I managed to wangle yours from Fen.”
“You didn’t get
it from Marcus?”
“What’s my
father got to do with anything?” Ash asked, his tone no longer light-hearted.
“Only that he
rang earlier and I asked him for your phone number. He seemed a bit taken aback
that we had met.”
“I bet he did.”
“Did I do
something I shouldn’t have?”
“Not you, me.
As far as dear old Dad is concerned, I’m still supposed to be holed up in a
dank London office making him squillions.”
“Oh Ash, I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t worry
about it. No harm done. His bark is worse than his bite.”
Somehow she
doubted that. Men like Marcus
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