Something from Tiffany’s Page 16

  For Terri’s part, she was certainly interested in finding out if this so-called hero would be putting in an appearance at the weekend, because from where she was standing it looked as though all this couldn’t just be about simple consideration.

  Of course, Greene’s only knowledge of Gary was when he was knocked out, so clearly the guy had no idea who he was really dealing with. If he did, Terri was sure that Ethan Greene wouldn’t be so concerned about Gary Knowles.

  If anything, it would be the complete opposite.

  Chapter 18

  ‘So exactly how long are you going to be in Dublin, again?’ Vanessa asked Ethan from where she sat on the bed, watching him pack.

  He smiled easily at her. ‘Just overnight, maybe longer depending on how I get on.’

  It was early Saturday morning and his girlfriend had not let up on the questioning ever since Ethan had mentioned earlier in the week that he planned to travel to Dublin. He had also asked if she would mind looking after Daisy while he did so.

  Following their New Year’s Eve conversation about moving in together, Vanessa seemed much happier, and had since stayed over a couple of nights at the town house, but it would take some arranging before she packed up her own flat and came to live with him and Daisy permanently.

  ‘And remind me again why you’re going? All of this seems to have just come out of the blue.’

  ‘Well, not particularly,’ he replied, trying to sound casual. ‘You know how excited I was to meet that agent in New York. Well, I’ve simply decided that I’m going to get cracking on this book once and for all.’

  ‘I see.’ Vanessa’s eyes widened slightly, as if the opposite were the case and she didn’t see at all. ‘And going to Ireland will help . . . how, exactly?’

  Good grief, she was persistent! ‘Well, for research, of course.’

  ‘Oh. So there’s an Irish aspect to the novel now?’

  He smiled tightly, distinctly uncomfortable with this incessant questioning. ‘There always was, to be honest. I just didn’t do anything about the research side of it because, as you know, I was procrastinating about it all. But now, with it being the start of a brand-new year, and Daisy’s not-so-subtle hinting,’ he added, holding up his daughter’s Christmas present to him, ‘I’ve decided the time is right to jump straight in. New year’s resolution and all that.’

  ‘Well, I’m pleased to hear that, certainly,’ Vanessa said, smiling, and Ethan exhaled, realising that this cover story was actually proving to be a bit of a life-safer. ‘And, goodness knows, the critics do love an Irish element – all that good old reliable Catholic repression,’ she joked lightly. ‘So that New York agent must have been very positive about what you’ve come up with so far. What was her name, again?’

  ‘Erm, Rachel Knowles. She was at one of the bigger agencies, but has just set up on her own,’ he said, thinking quickly. Damn, he hated this barefaced lying, but wasn’t it entirely necessary, given the circumstances? ‘You probably wouldn’t have heard of her,’ he continued, smiling nervously, and at that moment Daisy walked into the room. Ethan wanted to hug her. Saved . . .

  ‘Hello, darling,’ Vanessa cooed as Daisy sat down on the bed next to her. ‘I’m just trying to get your father to explain why he has to run off to Dublin this weekend and leave us.’

  Daisy gave him a conspiratorial smile.

  ‘For his book, silly.’

  ‘I know, but . . .’ Vanessa looked from Ethan to Daisy. ‘Now here’s a thought,’ she suggested suddenly. ‘Why don’t we all go – all three of us?’

  Ethan’s head snapped up. ‘To Dublin?’ He gulped. The last thing he needed was a repeat of the scenario in New York, where he had to keep making excuses to sneak away.

  ‘Yes, why not?’ she said, smiling. ‘We could easily get tickets for Daisy and me at the airport. It would be a good excuse, actually. I haven’t been home to see Mum and Dad for a while and of course I didn’t get to see them at Christmas, what with being in New York.’ Vanessa’s parents lived in one of the Dublin suburbs, but her visits home were infrequent, and Ethan had been there on only one occasion to meet them.

  ‘But what about my piano class?’ Daisy whined dramatically, and Ethan looked at her gratefully. His little girl knew exactly what was going on and had been fully briefed on his cover story over the last few days. ‘I can’t miss another one; I’m already behind after being in New York.’ She gave Ethan her best petulant look. ‘I don’t want to go away again, Dad.’

  He met Vanessa’s eye and shrugged helplessly. ‘It’s a good idea, but Daisy’s right. We’ve only just come back from a trip, so perhaps it’s too soon to take another. Not to mention that I’ll be mostly working, of course.’ He turned back to his packing. ‘Probably best to wait for a better opportunity – half-term, maybe? We could tie it in with a proper visit to your mum and dad then, and spend some time with them rather than just a quick flying visit now.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right.’ Vanessa seemed to be thinking it over, and Ethan knew that she wasn’t altogether convinced about this so-called research trip.

  He sighed inwardly. Well, there was really nothing he could do about that just now. This entire charade was ultimately for her benefit, so really he should stop feeling so guilty. He took a deep breath. Christ, all this fibbing, and ducking and diving questions was really taking its toll on him. Clearly he would never have been cut out for MI5.

  ‘We’ll be so proud of you when the book is published, Daddy,’ Daisy said, smiling at him.

  ‘Well, I’ll try my best, but of course there are no guarantees,’ he muttered, not wanting to add even more pressure to all of this by having to produce a publishable manuscript at the end of it.

  Vanessa stood up from the bed. ‘Yes, that is true, and no doubt the trip will all be in a good cause. Go and do your research, darling, and enjoy every minute of it. Daisy and I will be sure to have lots of fun while you’re gone. I think I’ll make some tea. Would anyone like some?’

  Ethan nodded, eager for her to leave the room so he could have a moment alone with his daughter. ‘That would be lovely, thanks.’

  ‘Daisy, some orange juice, perhaps?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Vanessa went to do the honours, and as soon as she was gone, Ethan turned to Daisy. ‘Good thinking, buttercup. For a moment there I really thought we’d all have to go.’

  ‘That’s OK, Dad. I knew you wouldn’t want us tagging along.’

  ‘Well, it’s not so much that – more that I’ll probably need all my time there to get the ring back from Rachel.’

  Daisy shook her head. ‘I just can’t believe she’s wearing your ring.’ She looked up, her expression thoughtful. ‘Does it fit, I wonder?’

  ‘Sorry? What did you say?’

  ‘The ring – does it fit Rachel, or did she have to get it made smaller or bigger or anything?’

  ‘I have no idea, darling. I was so taken aback to hear that she was wearing it at all, that it really wasn’t something I thought to ask.’

  Daisy nodded, as if thinking something over. ‘Well, you should really check.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I will,’ Ethan replied absently, although in truth he couldn’t care less about whether or not the ring fitted Rachel or if she liked it or any of that type of nonsense. What mattered was that the ring was his – and by rights it should now be Vanessa’s – and for the sake of his relationship (and indeed his sanity) he just needed to get it back.

  Up in the Wicklow mountains, Gary was in his element. He and Sean zoomed along the rough terrain on their bikes, bouncing the tyres along the granite trails and landing heavily on the surrounding bog. Hard on the old ribs, but Gary didn’t mind. He’d had enough of sitting around on his backside for the last two weeks, and was itching to get back in the saddle.

  It was bad enough having to delay the gang’s usual New Year’s ride until he was a hundred per cent recovered, so a little bit of soft scrambling was just the tonic. Anyway, there was also a
side of him that was anxious to get away and out in the open by himself for a while; since this whole engagement thing, Rachel had been coming on hot and heavy with the wedding talk and it was making him uncomfortable.

  Gary couldn’t understand the big deal about how many different layers of cake they should have, or what colour the bridesmaid’s dress should be. While all this engagement stuff had sounded fine at the outset, already he was getting the distinct impression that he was way in over his head.

  Just then Sean pulled up alongside him. ‘Bloody fantastic, but I’m feeling thirsty,’ his mate said. ‘Fancy a pint?’

  By rights Gary didn’t like drinking when riding the bike, but one would be OK as it was under the limit. And although he didn’t like to admit any weakness to Sean, he could do with a bit of a breather. He followed his mate across the bog trail and through the fields out onto the main road, which led to a small village not far from picturesque Glendalough. It was a bit of a touristy spot but the pints were good, and there was always a roaring fire going in the lounge.

  ‘So how’s yer missus these days?’ Sean asked Gary as they both hunkered down at the bar. ‘Wrecking your head with all the wedding talk, still?’

  Gary grimaced. ‘Ah, you know yourself.’ He felt a little bit guilty for moaning to Sean about that, really; he figured he should start showing a bit more loyalty to Rachel, seeing as they were supposed to be together for good now. ‘I suppose she’s just excited.’

  ‘Ah, they all get like that,’ Sean replied knowledgeably, and Gary wasn’t sure how his friend would know when he’d never gone out with any woman longer than a couple of weeks. ‘She give you any grief about coming out on the bike today?’

  ‘Not too much.’ Actually, Rachel had been OK about that, considering. Gary had expected her to nag him about his injuries, but instead she’d just urged him to try to take things easy.

  ‘For your own sake,’ she’d said. ‘You don’t want to miss out on the big ride when it does happen, do you?’ Which was a good point, in fairness.

  ‘So have you thought any more about suing that tool who knocked you down in New York?’ Sean asked, referring to the taxi driver.

  Gary had done a lot more than that. First thing after the New Year’s break he’d phoned his solicitor to ask him about it and, like Sean, Frank Donnelly was confident he had a very good case. ‘Yep, it’s all in hand. My solicitor’s setting the wheels in motion.’

  ‘Proper order. I’d say you could be looking forward to a nice little payout from that.’

  ‘Hopefully there’s nothing little about it,’ Gary joked. ‘Would be nice to get some new wheels out of it, at least.’

  ‘Assuming the missus doesn’t get her hands on it first, of course! You know how demented they can get with all this wedding business.’ Sean laughed. ‘Good party last week, though. Rachel sure knows how to put on a proper spread.’

  Gary nodded and supped his Guinness. ‘Yeah, all things considered, she’s not a bad catch, is she?’

  Sean looked at him curiously. ‘Sounds like you’re still weighing it up. Bit late to be doing that now, isn’t it?’

  ‘Nah. Was just saying, that’s all.’

  Although the decision had been more or less forced on him, Gary found he was increasingly OK with the idea of settling down with Rachel. For one thing, he was relieved that her meeting his mam was over and done with. It had worked out well getting his mother to come to the party like that. It meant that any conversations she and Rachel had would have been short and sweet, which was the way Gary liked it.

  What was bothering him now, though, was the call she’d got recently from that English guy, Greene, the one who’d helped him in New York. The notion that the guy was enquiring after his health didn’t sit right with him for some reason, and the fact that he’d supposedly phoned a couple of times since seemed a bit too full-on for Gary’s liking.

  He looked at Sean, wondering if he should just throw the idea out there and get his take on it.

  ‘Remember I told you about that do-gooder in New York?’

  Sean looked at him. ‘The fella that called the ambulance for you?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit weird but he followed me to the hospital afterwards and has been sort of sniffing around ever since.’

  ‘What do you mean “sniffing around”?’

  ‘I don’t know . . . that’s what I’m wondering. He met Rachel at the hospital while I was out of it, and I don’t know if maybe he took a fancy to her then or something.’

  ‘Why would you think that?’

  ‘Just a notion. He rang her a couple of times since we came back and the other day he said something about calling into the bistro next time he’s in Dublin.’

  Sean raised an eyebrow. ‘I get you. You’re wondering why he’s been ringing your missus, not you.’

  ‘Well, he doesn’t have my number to start with, and I’ve never met him. Rachel’s been going on at me to ring him and say thanks and all that bullshit, but I just couldn’t be bothered.’ Gary took another sip. ‘The way I see it, any eejit could call a bloody ambulance.’

  ‘Too right. But I get what you’re saying; it does seem a bit suspect.’ Sean looked thoughtful. ‘And there’s no denying that Rachel is one hell of a looker, so who could blame him?’

  Gary nodded, a strange combination of pride and possessiveness running through him. So he wasn’t imagining things. Clearly Sean thought there was something to the idea too.

  ‘Maybe you should give this fella a buzz all the same, suss out exactly what he’s up to,’ Sean went on.

  Gary looked into the fire. ‘Maybe I will.’

  Chapter 19

  Ethan’s flight arrived in Dublin exactly on schedule, and now he stood in the taxi queue at the airport, waiting for a free car. For what seemed like the hundredth time, he looked at the paper in his hand and read the directions to the bistro. Getting into the cab, he explained to the driver where he was going, and the man grunted in agreement and pulled away from the kerb.

  Despite himself, he was full of anxiety. Why he was feeling so nervous he didn’t know; after all, he was in the right here, and the ring was his property. He just hoped that he’d be able to get all this dealt with, with the minimum of unpleasantness.

  Thinking of Gary Knowles, he felt another jolt of anger. What kind of man would do such a thing? Take a piece of jewellery, a very expensive piece of jewellery, and blithely pass it off as his own? Even worse, what kind of man would give a stolen ring to the woman he supposedly loved?

  A thief would, that’s who, Ethan thought. What a nasty piece of work this Gary Knowles must be. He thought again about Rachel and their meeting in New York. She seemed like an incredibly sincere and kind woman; how could she be remotely attracted to such an obviously flawed character?

  Then he sighed. Perhaps he shouldn’t make assumptions about her. For all he knew she could be in on the whole thing, and all those offers of cookies for Daisy were merely a smokescreen to throw him off the scent.

  No, he decided then, Rachel was nice; she was an absolutely genuine person, he knew it. Why else would she have been so open about her engagement, and so willing for him to visit them at the restaurant?

  He was sure that by now she would have mentioned to her fiancé that he would be in the city, and he wondered what Knowles would have made of that.

  Maybe the man couldn’t care less; goodness knows he’d been brazen about everything else so far. Notwithstanding the ring, he hadn’t had the decency to even bother picking up the phone to thank Ethan for helping him out at the accident, so why should Ethan expect him to feel ashamed about nicking his ring?

  Because Gary Knowles must have realised that this was what had happened.

  Rachel seemed adamant that he hadn’t suffered a brain injury, or anything that might cause him to believe that he had somehow, unbeknown to himself, spent a five-figure sum on a ring.

  Ethan co
uldn’t help but wonder about that too. If Gary had intended to propose to Rachel then surely he (and ergo Vanessa) would have ended up with a diamond ring, albeit a different one, instead of the silver charm bracelet. So what on earth was the guy’s game?

  He looked out of the window as the cab approached central Dublin.

  It had been almost a year since he’d visited the city, and he’d forgotten how much he liked it. Maybe it would make a good location for his ‘novel’ after all. Ethan felt a weight in the bottom of his stomach as he thought again about his lies to Vanessa, and he sorely regretted having to bring Daisy in on the ruse too.

  But of course it would all be worth it in the end; and with regard to the novel, Ethan could always pretend afterwards that he’d had second thoughts, and that Dublin didn’t suit the storyline after all.

  Or that ‘the New York agent’ had had second thoughts about representing him as an author. That kind of thing happened all the time, didn’t it?

  At the end of the day, Ethan was here to get the ring back, nothing else. This wasn’t research, nor a pleasure trip – far from it. If anything it was to conclude a business transaction. He needed to obtain the ring, and then return to London, where he would propose to Vanessa and get on with the rest of his life.

  Minutes later the cab pulled up to the kerb near Dublin’s Ha’penny Bridge and Ethan thanked and quickly paid the driver.

  He took his case out of the car, and looked around for the purple building Rachel had mentioned, finding it easily a little way down by the river. Arriving at the premises, he focused on the establishment in front of him.

  To the right of the entrance, behind a large plate-glass window was a wicker-basket display of every type of freshly baked bread imaginable, alongside a large selection of pastries as well as the cookies Rachel had mentioned. Just by the door, the lunch menu announced a tantalising selection of Mediterranean dishes, and the wood-panelled interior, colourful leather-banquette seating and soft lighting looked cosy and inviting, unlike the harsh monochrome look favoured by the majority of modern restaurants.