False Money by Veronica Heley Page B

help feeling Tomi wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t picked her out to star in my film. I feel responsible. And you tell me that I can’t do anything to put things right?’
    There was a long silence while Chris looked out over the snowbound garden, and CJ looked at him. CJ would want Chris to return to university, of course. Would he? No, thought Bea; probably not. And if he does, I’ll think less of him.
    Chris shook his head, more at himself than anyone else. ‘I got into the film-making without thinking it through, without any proper training. But I do have a flair for it. I think I’d better sign up for some courses, or get a job as a gofer with some film company or other. Start at the bottom.’
    Bravo, thought Bea. ‘There is something else you can do, Chris. I’ll bet you’ve got some unused footage of Tomi. You could splice it together with the best bits from the film and put it all on a DVD for her parents.’
    Chris nodded and helped himself to a scone. The lines of strain around his eyes remained, but he tried to smile. ‘Wouldn’t you know, I put Hermia’s phone number on my mobile and said I’d ring her tonight. Now I can’t even do that.’
    Maggie pushed one of her sheets of paper towards him. ‘Oh yes, you can. I’ve got her number here. Simone gave it to me.’
    Sunday evening
    â€˜ Hush a bye, baby . . .’ Claire rocked the baby in her arms, smiling to him. He smiled back, well fed, clean and sleepy. ‘Time for bed, little one’.
    She’d agreed to work this evening, while his parents went out. In a few days’ time she would pass out of his life for ever. Did she regret moving on all the time? Yes, sometimes, but the future was rosy.
    She’d dropped in on the agency that morning to see if there was anything of interest, and they’d offered her a couple of places which weren’t suitable because they wanted her to live in.
    Her darling boy would be back soon and was taking her out on Wednesday. Hurray. She knew she had a mountain to climb still; his friends weren’t all that keen on her, and there was always the childhood girlfriend in the background, though she wasn’t as much of a threat as she had been. Not since Claire had introduced him to her way of making love.
    She laid the baby down in his crib. He protested, but not much. She watched him fight off sleep, and fail.
    She tidied the room, thinking that since she had two more nights to herself, she could use it to tackle someone else on her list. Excitement rose in her. Who should it be? Little Nick, probably. Dapper little Nicky-wicky, with his high-pitched, penetrating voice and bottom-pinching habits. He wore pinstriped suits with silk ties, but never picked up the tab in a restaurant or paid for his round in the pub. Took home a giant’s salary, ran a Porsche, but kept the central heating turned down really low at home. He complained about the housekeeping bills and told his wife to buy her clothes in charity shops. No wonder she’d filed for divorce and was currently pursuing him for everything she could get in the law courts.
    Claire would bet on his having stashed lots away in offshore accounts somewhere, just so’s his wife couldn’t get at it.
    Yes, little Nick should be next. Little Nick should be easy.

SEVEN
    Sunday evening
    C hris and CJ stayed for supper, of course. They talked about Harry for a while, before moving on to discuss Oliver’s return home and what sort of training Chris might go in for. CJ and Bea were mostly silent.
    Oliver phoned, and Bea arranged a time to collect him. Later, she rang Max, who might be back from the Midlands by now, only to find he’d switched to his answerphone. She left a message, but no promise to dash over there to housekeep for them, because she was going to be busy the following day. She ached to think of the baby, her darling little grandchild, wailing