Jack could have kicked himself. He’d forgotten all about her dodgy dealing. That was why he was following her, not to make sure men left her alone.

  “I’m sticking with you. Get a coat. I’ll drive.”

  She seemed to consider arguing with him. He pointed at the house. With a dramatic sigh she turned on her heels and headed back indoors. Jack nodded. That was more like it. Now he could keep an eye on her and interfere with her life at the same time. All good. He folded his arms and leaned against his car.

  It was a lot easier than she’d thought to get Jack away from the house for the day. All it took was a dress that was two sizes too small and a push-up bra. Add to that a healthy sprinkling of reverse psychology and the Terminator was gone.

  She worried her lip as they drove into London. She’d left her movie – her baby – in the hands of three teenagers who were bunking school, one accountant and a cameraman who was blackmailing her. Excellent. Maybe she’d be able to salvage the footage during the editing. She hoped so. Time was ticking. Between a looming inspection and Disgusting Derek’s threats it would be a miracle if the movie ever got made.

  “Why are we going all the way to London?” Jack grumbled beside her.

  “I’m going because I have appointments there. You’re going because you insisted on coming.”

  “Why didn’t we get the train?”

  She looked towards heaven and counted to ten.

  “Because you said—” she lowered her voice and grunted “—get in the car. I’m driving.” She cleared her throat. “There seemed little room for argument.”

  He glanced at her before returning his attention to the M25.

  “So why are you going to London?”

  “Appointments.”

  “What appointments?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  His jaw clenched as his fingers flexed on the steering wheel. If he was this tense now she couldn’t wait to see what he would look like in the city. Especially after he found out her appointments were with her hairdresser and the sale at Harvey Nichols. Her credit card was going to take a huge dent, one she couldn’t afford, but it would be worth it to keep Jack far away from the house for the day. Besides, it was this or tie him up and stuff him in the garden shed. Things were piling up. Every day lies piled on top of lies. Debt piled on top of debt. The stress was going to snap her in two – unless her dress killed her first. She wriggled uncomfortably in her seat. The dress was far too tight. It was hard to breath and she was pretty sure that the circulation to her legs had been cut off entirely, causing permanent damage.

  “Tell me about yourself,” she said as a distraction from the pain in her abdomen.

  “Yeah, right,” Jack said.

  She elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Talk to me,” she ordered.

  “Fine, you want to share, tell me what’s going on in the house and I’ll open up. I’ll even go into details about my poor deprived childhood.”

  “You were poor and deprived?”

  She put a hand to her chest. In her mind she could see a tiny, neglected version of the Terminator. It explained a lot.

  He rolled his eyes.

  “No. I grew up in Oxford. I had a normal middle class childhood. No trauma.”

  “Oh.” Well, that was a let-down. She’d expected a bit more drama.

  “Are you sure there wasn’t any abuse, neglect maybe?”

  “No.”

  “Tell me about your family. What do your parents do? Any sisters? Brothers? Did you have a dog?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Come on, Jack, it’s a long drive, don’t make me crazy. Play nice.”

  “Okay, okay.” His shoulders slumped. “Mum teaches English Lit, Dad is retired and as far as I can see mainly restores old cars and pickles beetroot. I have two sisters, both married – one is a dentist, the other writes cookbooks. And we had a border collie called Herbie.”

  “Huh.” Davina stared at the traffic in front of her.

  “Huh what?”

  “Just wondering about something.”

  “Well?”

  “Well,” she said. “That sounds like a nice normal upbringing, so how the heck did you end up like this?”

  He bristled.

  “Like what?”

  “Antisocial, abusive, annoying, arrogant. Entitled. Definitely entitled. You think that everyone should fit into your scheme of things and get grumpy when we don’t. I figured it was a reaction to your youth, that you were never properly socialised. You know, like the boys they find wandering in the woods, the ones who were raised by wolves.”

  The blood vessel at the base of his neck began to throb.

  “Raised by wolves?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  They were out of the green belt now and heading through endless suburbia. Row upon row of terraced houses, each one with little touches the owners had used to make them seem individual. It made her wish that she could live in the wacky old Gothic house forever. It was an oddity. Just like her.

  “So, was your dad with the police? Are you following in his footsteps?”

  Jack ignored her. Davina prodded his side.

  “Come on, tell me. Is it some big secret or something?” Her eyes widened. “Was he with MI5?” she said with awe.

  She flushed when Jack looked at her. It was clear he thought she was nuts.

  “You really have more imagination than you know what to do with, don’t you?” he said.

  “So?” she prompted.

  He sighed.

  “Dad was a dentist.”

  “Like your sister.”

  “Like my sister.”

  “And your other sister writes, like your mum?”

  “What’s your point, Davy?”

  “So what made you join the police force?”

  He gave her a sidelong look.

  “To catch criminals like you.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Come on, what was the reason?”

  “None of your business.”

  Now she was even more curious.

  “I’ll just keep pestering you until you tell me and it can be a very long drive into London.”

  He grumbled something to himself that she couldn’t quite make out.

  “Well?” She elbowed him again.

  “Fine.” He frowned. “It was Hill Street Blues.”

  Davina blinked.

  “The TV show?” She grinned. “You joined the police because of an American TV show?”

  Jack actually blushed.

  “I thought it was cool. It looked like something I could do. So when my careers adviser asked me in school what I wanted to be, I said police. And here I am.” He paused. “Was, I mean.”

  Davina started to giggle, but had to stop because her dress made it painful.

  “And the drug division? Did you see that on Hill Street Blues too?”

  It was agony trying not to laugh.

  “No. I was naturally good at that. I have an instinct for it. Trust me.”

  He glared at her and Davina got the distinct impression that he was trying to communicate something. She missed it completely. But for some reason she couldn’t put her finger on, she felt unnaturally guilty about the bottle of aspirin in her handbag. Jack sighed heavily.

  “Okay, your turn, help me out here, what’s your story? What childhood screw-up made you the person you are now?”

  She put her nose in the air.

  “I didn’t suffer any screw-ups. I had a perfect childhood.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  That annoyed her. She wasn’t the one with glaring personality issues.

  “My parents were wonderful people, very loving and supportive. They still are.”

  She bit her lip. She wasn’t in a hurry to tell them all about the latest hole she was digging for herself. Part of her would love for them to rescue her. The rest of her didn’t want to see how disappointed they would be doing it. Her dad would tell her, yet again, that she needed to think before she acted. That she needed to tone down her behaviour. But no matter how hard she tried, it just didn’t seem possible.

  “And what do Mr and Mrs Perfect do for a living?” Thankfully Jack saved her from an attack of the guilts.

  “Dad is a vicar in a little church outside Brighton.”

  The car swerved slightly. Jack seemed to be choking on something. Davina thumped him on the back.

  “I’m fine.” He held up a hand to stop her. “Really though, you’re a minister’s kid?”

  “Yes.” She couldn’t see what was so amusing.

  “Well, that is hysterical,” he said at last. “I guess you’re the classic rebel against your roots type. I had you pegged for something more interesting.”

  Davina glared at him.

  “If I’m not that interesting why are you following me all over England?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “And I’m not rebellious. I’m a good girl.”

  Apart from the stealing, and the lying, and the encouraging teenage boys to bunk school, and the debt that was spiralling out of control...

  Jack gave her a look that said he knew exactly what kind of girl she was. Davina flushed red. In two weeks’ time she’d sort out her life and everything would be fine.

  Maybe.

  They rode the rest of the way to Kensington in silence. Davina decided silence was better after all.

  Davina’s urgent appointment turned out to be with a hairdresser called Sebastian. After sitting through two hours of cut and colour, Jack came to the conclusion that it was just a trip to get her hair done. He’d also learnt a lot about Davina’s past. At some point she’d modelled for Sebastian and he was busy trying to convince her to do it again. Apparently there was an important show coming up in Italy. They both squealed about that.

  In spite of all the evidence pointing to two friends catching up, and hair being done, Jack watched carefully, hoping to see some sort of exchange. He desperately wanted to hear the guy order drugs, maybe even see money change hands – anything to prove to himself, and the world, that he wasn’t on another wild goose chase. But there was nothing. So he kicked back in his chair and wondered how Davy could afford a place like this in the first place. He came to only one conclusion. Drug money. She was flaunting it again. It made the blood in his veins run icy cold. For a minute it even made him forget about the way she looked in that red dress.

  “Boring, ain't it?” the guy beside him said.

  Jack looked round at six two of solid muscle, no neck and sunglasses. Bodyguard.

  “Who you here with?” he asked Jack.

  “The redhead.”

  “Model?”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to say drug dealer. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what she was – a minion at the local TV station, maybe.

  “Can’t say,” he told the guy.

  The bodyguard nodded wisely.

  “I’m with the blonde. Party girl.”

  They looked at the blonde, who was chatting endlessly about some famous guy she’d met the night before. The bodyguard reached into his pocket and pulled out an e-reader. He shrugged when he saw Jack looking.

  “Lots of down-time on this job,” he said.

  “Shouldn’t you be alert in case anyone attacks her?” Jack asked.

  “This is a hair salon,” the guy said. “Plus, between you and me, no one knows her. I’m here for show.”

  Jack nodded. He had a sneaking suspicion that he was there for show too.

  “Done,” Davy said cheerily in front of him.

  She swung her hair the way women did when they wanted you to notice it. Well, he wasn’t the boyfriend.

  “Great.” He stood. “Let’s go.”

  She shook her head.

  “What do you think?”

  Sebastian appeared by her side. They both waited expectantly. There was no getting away from it.

  “You look fine.”

  The guy beside him slumped in his chair and tried to appear invisible. The hairdresser was horrified. He flapped his hand in front of his face.

  “Fine?” Davina’s voice went up an octave. “Sebastian is an award-winning hairdresser, and you say ‘fine’?”

  Her green eyes sparkled with indignation. She patted her hairdresser friend and cooed some reassuring words to him. Jack rolled his eyes. Davina’s long wavy hair was glowing, it bounced and shone in the sunlight. He had an overwhelming urge to bury his face in it.

  “Fine,” he said again.

  “Never mind,” she told Sebastian. “I mean, look at his head.”

  The two of them stared at the top of Jack’s head.

  “What?” he said.

  “I don’t think even I could do anything with that,” Sebastian said in disgust.

  Davina nodded.

  “I should buy him some product, see if we can flatten it.”

  Sebastian snapped something at a minion and a moment later someone thrust a canister into Jack’s hand. He looked at it as though it’d come straight from the moon.

  “My gift,” Sebastian said to Davina.

  “Oh, thank you so much,” she gushed, making Jack want to vomit. As far as he could see it was some sort of hair gel, not the Nobel Peace Prize.

  “We’ll give it a go later,” Davina promised.

  They looked at his head again.

  “Failing that,” Sebastian said, “maybe some super glue.”

  They both started to giggle.

  “Enough,” Jack said. “Time to go.”

  Davina made a strangled noise, air kissed her hairdresser and stalked, as best she could in those silly shoes she wore, to the door.

  The bodyguard shook his head slowly. Jack couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or astonishment at Jack’s ignorance. And honestly, he didn’t care.

  “Where to now?”

  He jangled his car keys as Davina shrugged into her red trench coat. She was red head to toe, even her hair seemed redder now. It was as though she was on fire. He could definitely feel the heat.

  “Leave the car,” she said. “It isn’t far.”

  Jack walked beside her through the London streets wondering how a trench coat could be so revealing. He should have told her to change clothes entirely.

  “So what is it now? A manicure? Facial?”

  She pursed her lips.

  “You’re the one who wanted to tag along.”

  He couldn’t argue with that, so they walked in silence. His heart sank when he saw the destination. They were going shopping.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said as she pushed through the revolving door into the department store.

  “Fifty percent off today only,” she told him with a grin.

  Jack wanted to stay in the door and revolve all the way around until he was back on the street, but he’d come too far to abandon her now. He narrowed his eyes. Maybe that was her plan, to make him so fed up that he left her alone. Ha. He was on to her. She wouldn’t get rid of him that easily.

  An hour later, it was a decision he deeply, deeply regretted. He’d seen more women’s clothing in one afternoon than he’d seen in his whole life. In fact he had seen so much he was beginning to wonder if his oestrogen levels had spiked. He looked down at his old Amnesty International T-shirt to check for breast growth. Nothing yet, but if she dragged him into the lingerie department, he was making a run for it. There was only so much a man could take and a day surrounded by the high-pitched squeals of female bargain hunters was a step too far.

  He shifted on one of the tiny green velvet chairs that were stationed outside the changing room, which Davina had disappeared into ten minutes earlier, armed with a pile of clothes. Her eyes had been glazed. If he hadn’t known better he would have thought she was high.

  “They got you too, huh,” said a guy sitting beside him.

  Jack grunted. He was pretty sure the guy’s stunned look was a mirror of his own.

  Davina pulled back the curtain on the dressing room and poked her head out.

  “Jack,” she called, “can you come over here a minute?”

  The guy grabbed his arm as he stood.

  “Whatever she says, don’t let her make you hunt for another size. It’s a jungle out there.” He pointed to the sales floor.

  Jack shook free. He was seriously beginning to think he was the only sane one in the building. He sauntered over to Davina’s changing room.

  “What is it?” he said to the floating head.

  Davina’s cheeks flushed a deep red.

  “I need help. I’m stuck.”

  It took a minute for her words to sink in and then a slow, feral smile took over his face.

  “Stuck how?”

  She glanced around to see if anyone was listening and then lowered her voice.

  “I, uh, was trying to get out of this dress and the zip burst. Now I can’t get it off and I can’t walk around with it gaping open.”

  Jack wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t even sure how she’d gotten into it in the first place. Not that he didn’t appreciate the effort. He folded his arms.

  “And you want me to do what?”

  “I want you to come in here and fix it.”

  Now, wasn’t this day looking up?

  “Now, isn’t this interesting,” he said. “You need me. How about we negotiate. You tell me what you’re doing in my house and I’ll help you with your predicament.”

  Davina blew her hair out of her eye.

  “People are looking,” she hissed.

  “I don’t care. I’m not the one in half a dress. So how about it, Davy, got anything you want to say to me?”

  “Other than that you are a complete moron?”

  “Yeah, other than that?”

  “Is there a problem?” the sales assistant called over.

  “No,” Davina called back with a fake smile, “I just need a little help.”

  Her hand reached out to grab Jack’s T-shirt. With one almighty tug he was in the dressing room. And it was better than he hoped.

  Davina was holding the front of her dress up with one hand while trying to pull the back together with the other. It was obvious she hoped to appear modest, but her efforts were pointless considering they had mirrors on three sides of them.