My Best Friend's Murder Page 3

  ‘You two go on, I’ll be a minute.’ The doorbell rings again and Izzy waves us off. I follow Jenny, glancing up to see who’s at the door as I turn the corner. But Izzy hasn’t answered it. She’s too busy staring at the roses I brought, lying wrapped in paper on the ornate side table where Rich left them. I know she’s precise on colour schemes – you only have to look at her perfectly coordinated interiors to see that – but her next move shocks me so much I have to blink to make sure I’m not seeing things. And when I open my eyes, the white roses are still lying upended in the leather wastepaper basket, the bottoms of their green stems poking out. Izzy brushes her hands and goes to answer the door as though nothing’s happened.

  Four

  7.45 p.m.

  I’m so confused by what I saw that by the time I step into the kitchen, I’m starting to wonder if I imagined it. It takes me a second to get my bearings. They’ve pushed the dining table against the wall under the skylight to serve as a makeshift bar. The breakfast bar, which Izzy’s usually militant about keeping clear, is covered in platters of food. I hang onto the stair railing and count to ten before I step down. There’ll be a logical explanation, I’m sure. I just need to ask Izzy.

  Jenny’s already at the bar filling a glass that’s more gin than tonic but I know a drink’s not going to help my state of mind. I leave her to it and start to wander, trying to spot someone I recognize. Ed’s talking to a couple of guys from work and there’s a clutch of mums I remember from the times I’ve picked Tilly up from nursery. Looking around, I realize that I don’t actually know that many people here. That’s why I didn’t want a big party. But when I tried to tell Izzy that, she misunderstood and told me she’d help make up the numbers. Speak of the devil. She appears in the doorway, her dress shimmering under the lights. I know I need to speak to her. I’m screwing up my courage when I feel a hand on my arm.

  ‘Bec, are you okay?’

  ‘Jules! I’m so glad you made it. I wasn’t sure you’d come.’ I practically throw myself into her arms. Jules is the mag’s beauty editor and my closest friend at work. In a room full of strangers, she’s the person I want to see.

  ‘We almost didn’t by the time my husband had finally dragged himself back from football.’ Jules disentangles herself and gestures at the gangly guy in glasses next to her. ‘You remember Jonny.’

  ‘Hey, Jonny.’ I reach up and give him a quick peck on the cheek. ‘Thanks for coming all this way.’

  ‘Well you know I lose my super powers the second I cross the river,’ he jokes. Jules rolls her eyes.

  ‘Can I get either of you a drink?’ Jonny can obviously see the way the conversation is heading.

  ‘I’m all right but there should be some champagne knocking around somewhere.’ I point at the bar. ‘See that guy. That’s Rich; he’ll know where everything is.’

  ‘Got it,’ Jonny dips his head and makes his way towards Rich.

  ‘So that’s the famous Rich.’ Jules squints in his direction. ‘You never mentioned he’s a dead ringer for Tom Cruise. If Tom Cruise were tall.’

  ‘You probably only think that because he’s behind the bar.’ Rich says something that makes Jonny laugh then ducks under the table and reappears with a champagne bottle and two glasses.

  ‘Probably. He is gorgeous though.’ Jules starts looking around the room. ‘More than a match for the beautiful Izzy.’

  ‘When did you meet Izzy?’ My voice is sharper than I meant it to be. But Jules is my friend, not Izzy’s.

  ‘I presumed she was the tall blonde in the metallic number who let us in.’ Jules looks a bit taken aback by my intensity. ‘She had a right face on her. Uber glam but a bit done, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘She looks as good in joggers as she does tonight.’ I shrug, trying to bring things back to normal. ‘She’s just one of those people.’ I glance back at the doorway to see if I can spot her but Izzy’s gone.

  ‘Check out this house anyway.’ Jules’s eyes are wide. ‘This basement conversion is insane. And don’t tell me they sunk the garden so it was in line with the kitchen. That must have cost a fortune.’

  ‘It wasn’t cheap. Luckily, Rich is a banker and they had a bit of family money.’ I look through the aluminium and glass bi-fold doors to the garden beyond the patio. The tips of the grass are glazed with frost, like a winter wonderland. Even the weather cooperates with Izzy.

  ‘Is that our managing ed?’ Jules interrupts her own running commentary to clutch my arm again. ‘How on earth do you know Tony Maxwell-Martin?’

  Izzy’s dad. I look over. In a long silver dress with her blonde hair cascading around her shoulders, Izzy’s mum, Glenda, has worked hard to look like an exact replica of her daughter. Her cheekbones are unnaturally prominent, and I know she spends her life in the gym. Next to her, Tony looks bloated. He’s supposed to be on a health kick but the skin around his eyes is pouchy and he could do with losing a few pounds.

  ‘That’s the family money,’ I say. ‘Tony’s Izzy’s dad. I’m surprised you didn’t know. I thought everybody at work did.’

  Jules frowns. ‘I’ve never heard anyone mention it. Certainly nobody in beauty.’

  ‘Really?’ I recall the humiliation of walking into the loos on my second day to find two girls from the fashion department bitching about Tony dropping by my desk to say hello. I’ve been convinced everyone thinks I got the job because of him ever since. It’s one of the reasons I keep such a low profile. ‘Well, for God’s sake don’t tell them now.’

  ‘Of course I won’t. Anyway, I mustn’t monopolize you. I should go and find Jonny and enjoy our forty-five minutes of freedom before we head back north.’

  ‘Thanks for coming, Jules. I really appreciate it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t come to deepest, darkest south London for anybody else. Have an amazing night.’

  Jules plunges into the party. I look around. Izzy’s behind the breakfast bar now, pulling serving platters out of a cupboard. I could go over but she looks like she has her hands full and I’m not sure what to say yet. I look for Ed instead. He’s over by the sofa talking to the same group of guys from work as before. I hesitate. It’s not that I don’t like Ed’s colleagues; more that I’m worried they don’t like me. They all love Izzy and I thought that being her friend would grant me automatic acceptance. But every time I see them, they crack inside jokes and I find myself either tongue-tied or spiky and defensive. Which means half of them probably think I’m a moron and the other half think I’m a bitch. But right now that group’s my best option so I put on a bright smile and slip through the crowds towards them. Perhaps tonight’s the night for a fresh start.

  ‘Hi, guys.’ I nudge my way into a space next to Ed.

  ‘There you are.’ Ed pulls me in. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’

  ‘We were just quizzing Ed about how he popped the question,’ says the only girl in the group. She’s got dark hair and a sharp face with a mouth that turns down at the corners. I think her name is Emma. ‘Congrats.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ says the short guy with the goatee standing next to her. ‘I’m Ian, by the way. I don’t think we’ve met before.’

  ‘Ian’s joined us from Slaters.’ Ed names one of their major competitors.

  ‘Nice to meet you.’

  ‘Are you in insurance as well?’ he asks.

  ‘God no.’ Worried I sound rude, I add: ‘I’m not nearly clever enough.’

  ‘Bec writes for Flare,’ Ed answers for me. ‘It’s one of the country’s leading women’s consumer magazines.’

  ‘One of the leading women’s magazines, is it?’ smirks Ben, the self-anointed leader of the group. Ed says he goes out to lunch with clients at least three times a week. It shows; he’s got the gut of a man ten years his senior. ‘What’s it leading women to, then?’ He laughs and I force myself to join in.

  ‘Better shoes,’ I suggest and then, when nobody reacts: ‘We’re the usual selection of fashion, health
and beauty, celebrity and lifestyle.’

  ‘And current affairs,’ Ed reminds me. ‘There’s a healthy mix of that sort of stuff in there too.’

  ‘You’ll be perfectly placed to plan a wedding then,’ drawls Emma as if Ed hasn’t spoken. ‘I imagine you have a lot of contacts.’

  ‘A few.’ I don’t mention that most of the connections are above my pay grade.

  ‘Have it planned by the year end, will you?’ Ben continues. ‘Watch out, Ed, the net’s tightening.’

  He mimes a fishing rod reeling Ed in and this time they all laugh.

  ‘I’m well and truly on the hook,’ Ed says, but Ben’s self-satisfied guffawing drowns him out. ‘Anyway the point I was making about the new trade credit regs is pretty simple.’ And off he goes.

  ‘Izzy’s offered to plan it for me,’ I can’t help saying when they’ve quietened down. No matter how churned-up my feelings are, I know she’ll have my back with Ben. ‘Were you at their wedding, Ben? It was amazing. I don’t remember seeing you.’

  Spotting her, I add: ‘There she is. Shall I call her over?’

  I can see Ben’s Adam’s apple bobbing as Izzy adjusts one of the canapés. She’s paid local teenagers to come and waitress (I’ve already snagged a duck roll and a mini Yorkshire pudding from someone with thick eyeliner and hunched shoulders) but Izzy makes everything herself. As she turns around and bends over the oven to pull out the final baking tray, I can almost hear the saliva frothing in Ben’s throat. It’s disgusting.

  ‘Don’t distract her while she’s cooking.’ He sticks his hands in his trouser pockets. ‘There’s nothing that woman can’t do. It was a sad day when that arse walked out of the office.’

  Remembering himself, he takes his hands out of his pockets and folds them across his stomach.

  ‘Speaking of which.’ He nudges Ed. ‘Isn’t it about time you made that speech, old man?’

  Ed shoots me a smile of apology before he steps forward. I tighten my grip on my glass. I thought he said he wasn’t going to make a speech. Behind us, Emma’s shushing people and Ben is braying for silence.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen.’ Ed takes out the paper from his jacket and clears his throat with a soft click. ‘Please forgive the interruption but I couldn’t let the evening pass without thanking our wonderful hosts, Rich and Izzy Waverly, for throwing this fabulous party for us.’ Aping a traditional wedding speech, he continues: ‘My future wife and I thank you for your generosity and your friendship.’

  Everybody cheers and the people closest to me lean in to clink their glasses against mine.

  ‘We also want to thank the rest of you for coming – some from far and wide – to share in our celebrations. I think you’ll all agree that Bec looks absolutely stunning tonight. The moment she said yes to me was the happiest of my life.’

  I start to breathe more easily. That was lovely, and it feels nice to be appreciated. I make a mental note not to make such a fuss next time. But Ed hasn’t finished yet.

  ‘Second only, of course, to learning that we’d won the Credit Suisse account off Marsh, that is.’ The insurance side of the room titters and Ed holds up his hand in acknowledgement. ‘On that note, I’m sorry to take things from pleasure to business but with so many of you here, celebrating with us, I wanted to share some additional news. This time it’s about a partnership of a different kind.’

  Somebody near me – I think it’s Ben – makes a suggestive catcall and a few people laugh. Ed waits for silence. I can’t help smiling – it’s so typical of him to revolve a party – even his own engagement – around his job. It’s what makes him so successful.

  ‘Earlier this week, SZR voted unanimously to ask Izzy Waverly to rejoin the firm and spearhead that account, this time at partnership level.’

  What? My stomach drops like it’s on a rollercoaster. Pushing a work agenda is one thing; using my engagement party to promote Izzy is quite another. I know I said I didn’t want a fuss but I thought I would have at least this night to myself. And Ed’s still talking. I try to catch Izzy’s eye to see if she knew about this but she’s staring at Ed.

  ‘As many of you may recall, Izzy started as a graduate at SZR and rapidly worked her way up the firm to head of the banking division, a position she held for five years before deciding to take some time out to have a family. Now she’s made the excellent decision to come back—’

  His lips carry on moving but I can’t take the words in. Different thoughts are firing across my brain so quickly I can’t take any of them in. Izzy and Ed are going to be working together again? This is what all the secrecy was about. I watch him beckon her over. Her cheeks are slightly pink but her smile is wide and broad like she’s doing a victory lap. Just before she reaches Ed, she looks right at me. Am I imagining the edge to it? I shrink into the crowd. Why didn’t they tell me?

  There’s a burst of applause. Ed must have stopped speaking. I clap along, hoping nobody can see the confusion splashed across my face. I don’t understand why she didn’t say anything before tonight. I feel a burst of resentment as I watch Ben and his cronies surround her, welcoming her into their circle. The memory of the flowers smashed in the wastepaper basket resurfaces.

  Ed materializes at my side with two glasses of champagne. ‘What did you think?’ he twinkles at me. ‘I told you I wouldn’t make a speech about you.’

  I snatch one of the glasses out of his hands and take a glug. ‘Very clever.’

  ‘What do you make of the news, then?’ Ed smiles expectantly. ‘Isn’t it great that Izzy’s coming back?’

  ‘What I think is that it would have been nice to have heard it, say, about two hours ago before the rest of the masses.’

  ‘Bec—’

  ‘No, Ed,’ I hiss. ‘Don’t you “Bec” me. I can’t believe you didn’t do me the courtesy of telling me this major life-changing news about my friend before everybody else found out. It’s humiliating.’

  ‘I wanted to.’ Ed makes the same click in his throat he made before the speech. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t. I never imagined you’d react like this. But it wasn’t my place.’

  ‘Isn’t that exactly the point though? It is your place. Your place of work that she’s coming to work at. Why didn’t you say something?’

  ‘Izzy asked me not to. If I’d known it would upset you, of course I would have said something. But I thought you’d be pleased for her.’ He looks surprised and I feel bad. He’s right. What kind of person am I who can’t be pleased for her best friend?

  ‘I am,’ I manage to twist the words out. ‘I just don’t understand why she didn’t tell me before tonight.’

  ‘I expect she didn’t want to steal your thunder. SZR made the offer just before we got engaged. She’s been delaying telling anyone for weeks. I only announced it tonight because there are clients here.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I’m sorry you felt out of it.’ Ed wraps his arms around me. ‘That wasn’t my intention. It was one of the things Izzy was most worried about through the whole process. How it would affect you. She’d be horrified if she thought you were hurt in any way.’

  I nod, though I can’t help thinking that if she were that horrified she could have given me a heads up instead of letting me find out in Ed’s speech at our engagement party.

  ‘She really cares about you, you know.’ Ed kisses the top of my head. ‘And so do I. Now, can I get you another drink? I want you to have a good time.’

  ‘Sure.’ I finish my champagne. It tastes like sugary water. Maybe another drink will help.

  I watch Ed wind his way back towards the bar with my glass. But when he gets absorbed into Ben’s group on the way, I head over to the bi-fold doors. I yank them open and a welcome blast of cold air smacks me in the face. The gravel flicks against my heels as I skirt around the side of the house. I reach the corner of the side return and breathe a sigh of relief as the automated security light clicks off. I press my face against the brick wall and let the darkness envelop me like a c
loak. I’m shuffling through what I want to say to Izzy when, out of the gloom, a voice says:

  ‘Bec?’

  It’s Rich.

  Five

  8.42 p.m.

  ‘You made me jump!’ In the dim light I can barely make out his face. ‘What are you doing out here – having a sneaky fag?’

  He doesn’t say anything. I start rummaging in my clutch, fingers tracing house keys, lipstick and a stray hairclip.

  ‘That’s what I’m doing. I just needed a break. Don’t tell anyone.’ My hand closes around the packet of cigarettes. In the flare of the lighter, I can see he isn’t smiling.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I ask. ‘I can move if you want to be left alone.’

  ‘Give us a drag then.’ Rich holds out his hand, avoiding the question. I don’t think I’ve seen him smoke since we were teenagers.

  He closes his eyes as he inhales. I let him have two long puffs then take it back.

  ‘All right, Johnny Depp, you can have your own if you’re that desperate.’

  I rattle the packet at him but he shakes his head. I put the cigarette back in my mouth. Ed’s never smoked in his life. He’d kill me if he saw me standing here, puffing away.

  ‘That speech was a bit of a bolt from the blue, wasn’t it?’ Rich kicks his heel against the wall of the house and the stones under his feet scatter. ‘Were you okay with it?’

  ‘I was a little surprised.’ I measure my words out. While I’m dying to unburden my doubts to someone, I learned my lesson about where Rich’s loyalties lie years ago. ‘Did you know?’

  As soon as I ask the question, I want to kick myself. He’s her husband. Of course he knew.

  ‘I worry she’s taking on too much.’ It’s as though he hasn’t heard me.

  ‘You mean going back? Tilly is at nursery pretty much full-time now.’

  ‘It’s not only that.’ He pauses. ‘Tilly will be starting school in September. That’s going to be a huge transition. For all of us. With everything going on, I thought we’d agreed she’d wait a couple of years.’