Our Little Secret by Jenna Ellis

space. I can’t say that I can make out what they’re of. If anything, they look like the photos you see of star constellations, mainly with black backgrounds with shimmering, jewel-coloured splodges across them. There are a few sketches, but they’re literally just a couple of lines. I lean in to see the label on the painting. ‘WOMAN RECLINING,’ it says. I stand back and try and see how those two lines could possibly be a woman reclining? Is this whole art world just total bollocks, as I’ve always suspected?
    ‘So. You and Edward Parker?’
    I turn to see that someone has joined me in the small gallery. It’s the guy from the stairs in the crumpled brown suit. The one who was looking at me when the photographers were taking pictures? There’s a sly insinuation in his tone, which is backed up in the look he gives me now.
    I stare at him, not hiding from my expression how offended I am.
    ‘Oh, don’t get me wrong. He’s an interesting guy,’ he continues. His eyes are full of questions and he’s scanning me, taking in every detail of my attire. I feel self-conscious as he stares at my cleavage. ‘I’m Harry, by the way,’ he says, as if he’s suddenly remembered his manners, and he retrieves his hand from his pocket to shake mine. ‘Harry Poulston.’
    ‘Hi,’ I put my hand up in a limp wave and look over my shoulder for Edward.
    Harry cocks his head, expecting me to exchange pleasantries, but I suddenly remember my promise to Edward not to say anything or give anything away. As the obvious silence lengthens, I stare down at my glass again and press my lips together.
    He nods, as if realizing something and smiles. ‘Oh I get it.’ He nods again and points at me. He smiles, but it’s not a friendly smile, like Edward’s, but a sneaky one. ‘The cat’s got your tongue, right? Or are you a mute?’ He pretends to think, putting his finger on his lips. ‘Or have you been subjected to a gagging order, too?’
    He knows about the gagging order?
I stare at him, wondering what this is all about, but my gesture has given me away.
    ‘Ah, yes,’ he says, still sizing me up. ‘Quite a little show you’ve put on tonight. Quite a show indeed.’ He watches me again. ‘But those are slippery people, the Parkers. Between you and me, you should be careful what you’re getting yourself into.’
    I glance around more desperately this time, wanting Edward to come back. I don’t like this guy. He gives me the creeps. I give him my best withering look, but he seems to take strength from my discomfort.
    ‘Strange, don’t you think, that they’ve moved from Manhattan to the middle of nowhere? Although no one seems to know why? Or where, for that matter.’
    ‘That’s because it’s none of your business,’ I blurt out, feeling defensive. This is exactly what Edward warned me about. People probing, asking questions. This guy is probably a journalist. A snooper.
    ‘Oh. A Limey,’ he says, taking in my accent and grinning widely. ‘Well, well,’ he says, as if this makes sense to him. ‘I bet you know where they’ve run to, don’t you?’ he says, leaning in close to stare into my eyes.
    I recoil away. I wish he’d just fuck off. Where is Edward?
    ‘Funny they went right after that business with the missing painting . . .’
    He lets the comment hang in the air. I look at him. What missing painting?
    I back away and he realizes he’s gone too far. He puts out his hands in surrender. ‘Listen. You seem like a nice girl. I just don’t want you to get mixed up in anything, you know . . . ?’
    ‘No, I don’t know,’ I snap. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please leave me alone.’
    He smiles, disappointed, and nods. ‘OK, Princess,’ he says. ‘Have it your way. But here’s my card. I will get to bottom of the mysterious Parkers, with or without your help. But if you ever want to talk, then please . . .’
    He thrusts the cards towards me, so that I have no choice but to take