The One That Got Away by Jennifer Palgrave

Author:Jennifer Palgrave [Palgrave, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780473500085
Publisher: Town Belt Press
Published: 2020-04-25T16:00:00+00:00

Lauren was packing a small bag, fussing more than usual. Surely she wouldn’t need anything formal for a weekend in the country. The Wilsons were renting a place in the Wairarapa not Downton Abbey. Gumboots were the most likely prerequisites. But how could you tell with a woman like Darya, who was elegance personified. She threw in some slip-ons, black trousers and a designer top, just in case.

She had just zipped up her bag when there was a knock on the door. A man in a dark suit stood outside. ‘Miss Fraser? I’m your driver.’ She followed him to the road above where a large white car blocked the driveway to the apartments. Lauren chose to sit in front with the driver, a small act of rebellion to differentiate herself from the super-wealthy.

The discreetly luxurious vehicle purred down the hill towards the waterfront. ‘Who do you work for?’ she asked the man. If he were Brett’s employee, perhaps she could pump him for information.

He gave her a friendly smile. ‘Executive Chauffeurs. We don’t have signs on the cars,’ he confided. ‘It’s just a glorified taxi company. Get to meet some well-known people, mind.’

There was no point in pursuing the conversation, so Lauren sat back and enjoyed the drive. From Jervois Quay they turned into the wharf. The driver pointed a remote at some bollards that sank gracefully into the asphalt. Open sesame, she thought, private cars weren’t allowed onto the waterfront. The tune ‘Money Makes the World Go Round’ drifted into her mind and stayed there, like an earworm.

A helicopter was waiting behind a fenced-off section of the wharf, its doors open. The pilot, dressed in overalls, stood at the entry gate. He issued Lauren with a life jacket and took her over to the machine, escorting her into the cabin via the rear door. Darya was already on board, dressed in immaculate casual clothing, although the chic impression was spoiled a little by the bulk of her life jacket. Lauren took the seat next to her. There didn’t seem to be anything to say after perfunctory greetings, so the women sat in silence. Lauren couldn’t make her out. She hoped the weekend wouldn’t prove too awkward. She reminded herself that she was there to do a job, not to make friends.

Shortly afterwards two men in business suits clambered in and took the remaining seats in the rear of the cabin. There were no introductions and Lauren had managed only a glance at them. The one nearest the door had looked vaguely familiar, so she turned briefly to get another look. Both were occupied with their seatbelts and so neither met her gaze. Damn, who was that? She definitely had seen him before. It took a few seconds for the memory banks to deliver and the result horrified her. Surely it was Kevin Driscoll! She recalled the awkward drive they had shared to Oxford in the 1980s and how pleased she had been to be shot of his company. He must be over sixty now, but he still looked indefinably sleazy.

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