Paparazzi by Jo Fenton (best free e reader .txt) 📕

make a better job of this meeting than I’m doing right now. The thought of my younger daughter calms me. I’m part of a close family unit. I’m not on a date. Finn’s an old friend and colleague – nothing more, despite my physical reaction to him.

I take a deep breath and lower the menu so I can read it. Middle-aged eyesight demands the use of varifocals, but I hate the things, and can never find the right place to look through for reading. More often than not, I just take the damn things off to read. This time I manage to find the sweet spot on the lenses so keep the glasses on my face. They hide some lines anyway – a good thing right now.

“What do you recommend?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I’ve not been here for a while – not since last summer.”

I can feel his gaze on me, intent and determined, and I flush, although I keep focussing on the menu.

“You know what, I’m not that hungry. I think I’ll just have a coffee.” My insides are churning.

“I’ll get it. I think I’ll just have a coffee as well.” He takes the menu out of my hands and goes to the bar. I feel a little bereft with nothing left to hide behind, and my pulse races once more. I’ve not seen him since the warehouse. There’s so much to say, and so much that shouldn’t be said. I don’t know where to start. I take some more deep breaths and try to clear my mind. A moment of meditation whilst he’s at the bar should help.

***

Back home three hours later, I manage a perfunctory hello to Matt, and head upstairs to run myself a bath. I need some space to think about the events of today. I set my Kindle next to the bath, in case I reach the point of wanting to escape from my thoughts. There’s a lot to take in, and I’m not sure I’m ready to handle it all yet. I trail my Echo Dot into the bathroom and tell Alexa to play Take That.

Settled in amongst the bubbles and hot water, I try to make sense of all I’ve heard. Roger is relatively easy, and I dismiss thoughts of him for the moment. He’s clearly going to be a part of my life in the future, and I think Joanna’s right about him wanting to use the agency.

Finn is the one who drags my thoughts back. I try to block the memories of him holding me: the long hug which said so many things, and yet maybe nothing at all. Okay, maybe I don’t try very hard. I’ll allow myself to dwell on it for just a moment. I shut my eyes and hold on tight for several breaths.

Right, Becky, get a grip. He’s just a friend. You’re happily married.

The problem is that it’s easier to dwell on the chemistry between me and Finn than to think about our conversation today. I don’t want to remember what happened in that warehouse, and he’d made me describe it to him in detail. I’m not ready yet. Why would he do that? He said it was to help me, but there was something in his eyes, and maybe a hardness in his tone… If I hadn’t known him so well, I’d never have spotted it, but we worked together as partners for over ten years. Something is not right, but if I try to analyse it, I’ll have to face the details of that damned awful day again. I’ve been through it once already today, and that was more than enough.

I give in to my weakness and pick up my Kindle so I can escape into someone else’s world.

Chapter Fifteen

Friday morning, I get a text from Joanna. I’ve just finished breakfast, and I take my coffee into the lounge before looking at my phone properly.

“Troy and his band are playing tonight at BOTW. We should go. Suss it all out. See if we can find Penny’s stalker.”

I take a moment to realise BOTW is Band On The Wall. Meanwhile, panic fills me at the thought of going to such a crowded place. Any kind of gig has been out of bounds for me for many months. The noise alone would totally freak me out.

“Can’t do it. You go. Fill me in tomorrow.”

“No way. You don’t get out of it this easily. Penny said there’s a separate area with a bar. They do pizza. Sit in there and eat and drink. I’ll bring people out to you to interview.”

Shit. That woman has got an argument for everything. Can I do this?

I text Alison. I’m fairly sure she’s been to Band On The Wall in the last couple of years.

“Hey Ali, got a couple of minutes to chat?”

A minute later my mobile rings.

“Hi Mum, I’m just between lectures. I’ve got five minutes. How’s Dad?”

“He’s doing fine. How are you?” I have a sip of coffee.

“All good. You called? Not like you to call on a Friday morning. What’s up?”

“Have you been to Band On The Wall recently?”

“Yeah – I went in the summer holidays. Cool vibe. Depends a bit on the bands though. Why?”

“You know I told you I’m doing this private investigator thing with Joanna?”

“Yeah. Go on.”

“We’ve got a case, and she wants me to go there to follow up on a lead.”

“What’s wrong with that? Mum, I’m going to have to go in a minute. I’m standing outside the lecture theatre, and I can see Prof coming down the corridor. Just go along, it’ll be fine. There’s this breakout area with a bar and food. Just sit there and chat to people. It’s not too loud there. Got to go. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I end the call and return to my texts. Joanna has sent me three messages in the last few minutes whilst I was talking to Alison.

“Becks?” “Becky, will you come along? Please!” “Hey, Becky, where are you? I’m