The Fake Date Page 16

  Everyone wants answers, everyone wants to know the truth. They think finding the truth is the right thing to do, but they have no idea how many people will get hurt in the process. Everyone needs to walk away and do the smart thing. Before I hurt someone else.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tim slammed the main door shut, thrust the lock into position and stamped across the gym and into the office.

  ‘I’m in so much trouble,’ he whispered to himself as he pulled open the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet and dug out the pile of paperwork that he’d hidden. He leafed through each sheet, studied some and screwed up others. None of them made sense, not to him and he began opening and slamming drawers and cupboards.

  He resented Rick’s words and tossed the screwed-up pieces of paper in the bin, before pulling a bottle from the filing cabinet drawer and pouring himself a large glass of whisky. He took a long slurp and then lifted the bottle again. ‘Time for a top up.’ He slushed the liquid into the glass and laughed as droplets splashed up and over the side, landing on some of the receipts. He slammed his fist down on the desk and watched as the whisky once again jumped in the glass.

  ‘So, maybe I did spend a bit too much. Nothing wrong with that, is there? After all, why the hell shouldn’t I have some perks? It was me that spent every hour here, wasn’t it? Me that looked after things and had no bloody life while he was in prison.’ He thumped himself on the chest gorilla style. ‘Was me that kept the doors open and the bloody place afloat, wasn’t it?’ He nodded with exaggerated movements, laughed at himself and then once again picked up the glass. He studied the golden fluid before drinking it down in one gulp and slamming the empty glass back down on the desk.

  He flopped down in the chair and stared at the safe. He knew how much money was in there. He knew how easy it would be to take it, start a new life and escape the whole rat race that had become his life.

  ‘Would it be worth it?’ He got up and his hand skimmed the safe’s door. ‘I could leave; I could go away, start again. Rick would never find me.’ He looked up at the world map that covered the office wall. ‘Where would you go?’ He stared at the islands: the Maldives, the Caribbean. He could easily go to any of those places. After all, he was fully qualified; everyone needed good instructors and he could easily get a job in any of these countries.

  Tim looked back at the glass, filled it once again with whisky and drank it down in one. Then, without a second thought, he opened the safe, reached inside and felt for the pile of notes. Placing them on the desk, he simply sat and stared. He had no money of his own, not any more, and he thought of the possibilities that this money would bring. It’d serve Rick right if he took it. His fingers reached out and stroked the notes.

  ‘Tim, what the hell are you doing?’ Michelle’s voice rang out as the door burst open and Tim jumped back in his seat.

  ‘Michelle, what … what the hell are you doing here? I thought everyone had gone.’ He nervously looked from the money to Michelle and back again. She’d seen him with it. She’d seen him contemplating what to do and she’d probably heard every word he’d just whispered. He stood up, stepped towards the door and looked Michelle directly in the eye. ‘I asked you why the hell you were still here?’ he bellowed.

  Michelle stepped back and turned towards the door. ‘Look, Tim, I don’t want any trouble. I was just using the showers. I have to go. I have a date.’

  Tim saw that she once again looked around him and at the money. She knew what he was about to do. He spun around on the spot, grabbed the money and pushed it back into the safe. ‘I was just counting it, right?’ He slammed the safe door shut, walked out of the office and across the gym and unlocked the door. ‘Time you were gone, isn’t it?’ He studied Michelle as she left the building. He knew how close she and Rick had been getting lately and he guessed that any date she might be going on would be with him. His heart rate quickened. Would she tell Rick what she had seen? He knew he had to do something to stop her talking, he just didn’t know what.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rick placed a dozen red roses in a vase, stood back and admired them. The vivid red colouring against the white walls of the hallway looked stunning and he silently congratulated himself on the choice. He spun around. ‘Candles,’ he whispered to himself. ‘Light them now, or later?’ He thought for a moment but then picked up the matches and, even though it was summer and still daylight, he decided to light them in the knowledge that by the time he’d finished serving dinner, it would be dark and the romantic amber glow of candles was always preferable to harsh electric lighting.

  Rick walked to the hallway mirror, looked himself up and down to check his appearance, shook his head and ran up the broad oak staircase.

  ‘Should have worn the white one,’ he muttered to himself as he flung open the door to his dressing room and rummaged around in the wardrobe for the white linen shirt that he had in mind. ‘That’s better,’ he said as he pulled on the shirt, walked out of the dressing room, back onto the landing and across to the bedroom which stood at the front of the house.

  He nodded in approval. The room looked fresh, flowers had been placed in several vases around the room, the sheets were crisp and clean and the music system had been programmed to play soft romantic music, just as he liked it. He silently hoped that his evening with Michelle would end up in here.

  The shrill sound of the phone echoed through the house. ‘Hello, Rick Greaves.’ He balanced the handset on his shoulder and walked from the bedroom onto the landing. ‘What do you want, Nina?’ He moved the phone from one ear to the other, walked over to the dressing room and pulled the door closed.

  ‘Rick, it’s my stepdad. Seriously. He’s threatening to throw me out if I don’t pay more rent. And, as I said earlier, you owe me and I could really do with the extra hours.’

  Rick sighed. ‘Nina, do you know what time it is? I’m busy and, what’s more, your housing arrangements are really not my problem. I’m amazed I’ve still got my own house after all that’s happened.’

  Nina went silent and Rick heard her sigh.

  ‘Nina, is there anything else?’ Rick was growing impatient; he wanted to make sure the food was organised and really didn’t want to continue this conversation, not at home and definitely not tonight.

  ‘But, Rick.’ A sob left her lips. ‘I thought we were a team.’ Again, she paused. ‘You have to help me, Rick, you just have to. I’m scared of what he’ll do next. I’ve tried talking to him, honestly, but you know how unpredictable he is. And he hates you.’ Her voice was now racing with panic and the words were an obvious threat.

  ‘Nina, what do you mean he hates me and he’s unpredictable? What will he do?’ Rick was losing his temper. Nina was always talking about her stepfather, how cruel and dangerous he was and the threats he apparently made. He thought back over the years. There had been threats before, back when Julia was alive. Threats about wages, hours and always over how Nina needed more.

  ‘Rick, he knows we slept together.’ The words were barely a whisper. ‘I told him. He’s not happy and you know he’ll do anything to protect me, don’t you?’ The words were all too clear.

  ‘And I’ve told you never to threaten me. Getting mixed up with you was a mistake. Got it?’ Rick thought of Nina. Of the night she kept reminding him of and of how he must have been so drunk that he couldn’t remember any of it. Her being in his bed the next morning was as far as his memory stretched, but he had no idea how she’d got there or what had happened between them.

  Rick had had enough. He really didn’t care what had or hadn’t happened between them. It was simple: he wouldn’t be bribed, he didn’t owe her and there wasn’t enough money in the business to pay for more staff hours, no matter how much she wanted them. ‘Nina, as I said before, the gym can’t afford the hours. Please don’t phone here again.’ He slammed the phone down and checked his watch. The last thing he needed was threats. Especially tonight. Tonight he had everything planned with precision: the even
ing, the meal and the sensual entertainment that followed. He took in a deep breath, knowing that Michelle would arrive soon. He just had time to pop down to the kitchen, check the dinner and choose one of the many white wines he had chilled and ready to go. He needed something crisp and rich, that would go well with the salmon. He thought for a moment, remembered the case of Stellenbosch that he’d brought back from South Africa the year before and nodded his approval.

  ‘On with the starters,’ he announced as he bounced down the stairs and into the kitchen where he opened the fridge to reveal the two plates of smoked salmon, prawns and horseradish. He just needed to add the vinaigrette, which he lifted from the fridge. He stirred it and then tasted it with the spoon, then looked across the room to where the fruit bowl stood. ‘More lemon,’ he said as he walked across, chose one of the lemons, cut it in half and squeezed just a few drops into the liquid. Stirring it one more time, he took another taste. ‘Perfect,’ he said, just as the doorbell rang.

  Michelle stood outside Rick’s house and took in a deep breath. She was still alarmed by what she’d seen at the gym. She rummaged in her clutch bag for a mirror to check her appearance. It was the first time she’d been to Rick’s home and a nervous excitement ran through her whole body; she had to look perfect, but Nina’s words kept spinning around in her thoughts. She stared at her image. Did she look butch? She really wanted to look feminine, she wanted to have sex appeal and, more than anything, she finally wanted to get the chance to be with Rick.

  She tried to think of the positives; he had finally asked her out to dinner and tonight was a real date. She tried to smile, but couldn’t help feeling just a little disappointed that he hadn’t taken her out to a restaurant, wined and dined her publicly, but after all that had happened, she’d understood the reasons he’d given for staying home and keeping a low profile. To be seen out would have attracted too much attention, and although he’d been cleared as an innocent man, there were some that still thought him to be guilty.

  But, she knew differently, and a huge smile crossed her face. Rick couldn’t possibly have attacked that woman. She shook her head. ‘Not Rick, it wasn’t Rick, it just couldn’t have been,’ she whispered to herself as she put the tiny mirror back into her bag.

  She thought back over recent months. She’d been to visit him in prison, had gone over all the changes at the gym and for just a few moments at the beginning or end of each visit, he’d held her hand, or kissed her on the cheek. Everything before that had just been work. There had always been a mutual spark of attraction between them and she’d often hoped that he’d take the relationship further. But things had happened; other women had always fallen into his path and each time she’d taken a back seat, watching from a distance. But not this time. This time it was her turn to have Rick’s full attention and even though she suspected that Tim was up to something, she wasn’t ruining tonight for anyone. There would be plenty of time to speak to Rick about him tomorrow.

  She stepped forward, rang the bell and waited for the door to open.

  ‘Michelle, how are you? You look amazing.’ Rick stood before her in a white linen shirt. It was paper-thin and through it she could make out the shape of his perfect abs. She nodded in approval. He was looking pretty amazing himself. ‘Did you find me okay?’ His voice cut through her thoughts.

  ‘I did. You’re further into the countryside than I thought, but once I’d worked it out, I was fine.’ She stepped through the door and inhaled. The whole house was fresh, clean and smelt of lilies. ‘Wow, Rick. Your house, it’s beautiful. I love it,’ she managed to say as Rick took her jacket, opened a closet and placed it inside.

  ‘Well, thank you. The food is this way.’ He swept his arm in a motion that indicated she should walk towards the kitchen. ‘I’ve just finished making the vinaigrette that goes with the starter. Actually, I should have asked, you do like fish, don’t you?’ he questioned and Michelle smiled and nodded at the same time to show her appreciation. She was impressed. Not only had he cooked the food, he’d gone to some considerable effort to make everything fresh.

  ‘It smells fantastic.’ Michelle looked around the dimly lit kitchen. It was made of a light carved oak, had black granite worktops and looked brand new. She watched Rick as he added the vinaigrette to the two plates of food, quickly followed by a small handful of fresh salad leaves.

  ‘I made a tomato, garlic and chilli sauce. Just the pasta and a little Italian sausage to add and it should be perfect.’ Michelle felt a rush of excitement as Rick walked towards her. His hand lifted up and caught her by the waist. He then stared deep into her eyes before lifting his fingers to her cheek. He had the lightest touch, sensual with just a hint of dominance. She felt him lift her chin up towards him before moving the fingers to weave themselves gently through her hair.

  He then smiled and moved away, but his eyes were constantly fixed upon hers. He was teasing her and she liked it. ‘Shall we eat?’ she heard him say as he opened the fridge, and she watched as he lifted a bottle of wine from it. ‘I hope you like a good Stellenbosch?’

  Michelle nodded and followed Rick as, carrying two plates, he walked through the vast hallway. She smiled at the candles and looked up the staircase to the galleried landing beyond. She closed her eyes, just for a moment, and wondered if she’d end up walking up those stairs before the end of the night, but then as she opened them again she caught the reflection of something through the window. She turned, moved closer to the door and stared out.

  Rick looked over his shoulder. ‘All okay? The dining room is this way,’ Rick said as his foot pushed open a door to reveal a beautifully decorated room.

  ‘Sure. Sorry, I thought I saw something outside,’ she said as she walked into the hallway, looked through the hallway glass, then dismissed the thought and followed him into the room.

  Again the room was all white with a solid oak table that would have seated at least twelve people. Leather chairs stood all around its edge, but Rick had set the table just to one end and had placed a vase of flowers as a barrier to give the table a more intimate look.

  ‘Thought it’d be friendlier this way.’ He leaned forward, picked up an igniter and lit the tall church candle that stood central to the table before turning out the lights. ‘You know, both of us together at one end of the table, rather than sitting at opposite ends shouting, “Send down the salt”.’ He laughed nervously at his own joke and made a sweeping gesture with his arm as though pushing the salt from one end to the other. His arm then once again caught her around the waist and Michelle took in a deep breath as his lips carefully brushed hers.

  Rick pulled away. He didn’t want to rush things, not tonight. Tonight was all about showing Michelle how special she was. She’d been there for him when no one else had. She’d visited him in prison, brought him news of the gym and supported him on the days when he’d felt as though he were losing his mind.

  ‘Would you like wine?’ Once again his lips grazed hers in passing as he leaned forward, picked up the wine bottle and without waiting for her to answer, half-filled the glasses. He picked them both up and handed one to her. ‘Here’s to tonight,’ he said as his glass touched hers.

  They both sipped the wine and, without losing eye contact, they both sat down at the table, where Rick had placed the plates of food.

  The phone rang.

  ‘Bloody phone,’ Rick sounded aggrieved. The noise of the phone had broken the mood and he stood up from his chair, walked into the hallway and turned off the ringer. ‘That should help.’

  Michelle laughed. ‘Don’t you think you should have answered it? It could have been important.’

  Rick returned to his seat and lifted a piece of salmon onto his fork. ‘Nothing is as important as you are, not tonight.’

  Michelle finished her starter. ‘Wow, you certainly can cook, Mr Greaves.’ She lifted her glass to her lips and sipped at the wine and it occurred to her that if she drank much more she wouldn’t be in a position to drive home; surely
Rick would know that.

  Rick stood up. ‘I’ll just go and finish off the pasta. Would you like to join me in the kitchen?’ He picked up his glass and Michelle did the same, following him out of the room.

  ‘So, how long have you lived here?’ Michelle was curious; the house looked brand new on the inside, but the amount of trees, bushes and landscaping outside told a different story.

  ‘Just over a year. I sold the other house after Patsy died.’ He turned away and stirred the sauce. ‘It held too many memories, with Julia and then Patsy. I needed a fresh start.’

  Michelle nodded. ‘I can understand that. I doubt I’d have stayed there either.’

  She spun around as her mobile began to ring. She hesitated. ‘Agh, what is it with phones tonight? Sorry, do you mind?’ She walked to where her bag lay on the worktop. ‘It’s my mum’s ringtone.’

  Rick smiled and Michelle walked into the hall to take the call. ‘Hi, Mum. All okay?’ She paused. ‘Okay, okay, slow down. Who told you this?’ She walked back into the kitchen and picked up her bag. ‘Mum, okay, take deep breaths, I’m on my way to pick you up.’

  Michelle pressed the off button on the phone. ‘Look, Rick. I’m so sorry.’ She closed her eyes and a single tear dropped down her face. ‘Mum just had a call from North Yorkshire Police. It’s Dad, he’s been in an accident.’ She swallowed and then continued. ‘He’s a long distance lorry driver and his wagon just left the road. The police told Mum that he’s all right, but he’s been taken to the hospital.’ She fiddled with her bag. ‘I have to go collect Mum and, you know, take her to him.’