Page 87 of Love and Loathing

“Have you seen him? Do you know where he is?”

Roscoe paused. “No… I spoke to him this morning, but…”

“Yes, yes, we’re a thing.” She waved a hand in the air, irritated, embarrassed. “Again.”

“You need to update your social media status or something. On, off. Real, fake. No one can keep up.”

“Please, Roscoe. I’m not in the mood for joking. I need to talk to him. I’m at his flat, but he’s not here. And he’s not answering his phone. And…and…something terrible has happened. I really, really need to talk to him.”

“Take a deep breath, Eve. What’s going on?”

“He thinks it was me! He thinks I leaked the emails! I’m sure he does. He has good reason to think so. And he must think all of it was fake, but it was only at the start, and I think it might have been Liv, but I don’t know why, except I think she’s planning something, and—”

“Woah! Stop. Breathe. Are you breathing?”

She sniffed, wiped her dripping nose. “I think so.” Rainwater snaked from her sodden hair, tickling her forehead. Rain poured relentlessly from the edge of the porch, drumming to the wet, cold ground.

“Where are you right now?” Roscoe asked.

“Outside Aubrey’s place.”

“In this weather? Jesus. Look, get a cab here, to my office. I’m stuck here all day, but you can dry off, have a cup of tea. We’ll put our heads together and figure this out, OK?”

Roscoe was in the office kitchen when she arrived. He passed her a big handful of blue industrial-looking kitchen roll to mop her face, then grimaced apologetically. “Only got cow’s milk.” The kettle beeped as it finished boiling. Roscoe hunted throughcupboards. “Sure there’s some awful herbal stuff somewhere, though. Got it in a complimentary gift basket.”

Evie smiled weakly, close to tears again just because he was being so nice and she was so grateful.

“I don’t mind. Anything hot will do. I’ll just have hot water.”

“No need. Look. Lemon and…erm, turmeric? Lovely.” He tossed the bag in the cup, poured in the water. “Come on,” he said, leading the way to an empty desk in the corner. “Explain all.”

He took her coat, hung it over a radiator. Then they sat together and Evie outlined everything that had happened, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the tea. She had no appetite for it, was still nauseous. Roscoe’s eyes went very wide at the mention of the garden. She told him about meeting their father, then her theories about Liv having something to do with it.

“The problem for Aubrey is this gagging clause,” Roscoe said after a thoughtful pause. He sipped his coffee. “This supposed leak is an absolute breach.”

“But he didn’t do it!” Evie’s protest was immediately followed by the plunging of her heart. “He thinks I did.”

Roscoe gave her a careful look, not quite managing to hide his big brotherly disappointment, nor his hurt that she’d targeted his friend. “And you really planned to?” he asked quietly. “You were really going to get this stuff from his laptop, behind his back?”

Evie blushed, fiddling with the wet string of her tea bag where it lay over the rim of her cup. “Yes,” she admitted. “I was. Or I told myself I was. I managed to believe I could. But it wasn’t meant to be about him. It was evidence about Domnall’s wrong-doing I was looking for. Just things they could use to get him in trouble, highlight all his corrupt business practises. It wasn’t meant to be about BlacktonGold or Aubrey at all. He was just…just the means to the end.”

Roscoe said nothing. There was nothing to say. Her shame spoke for itself.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s Aubrey who needs to hear that.”

“I know!” Tears clutched her throat again. She forced them back with a hard swallow. “He will hear it. I’ll make it right. Somehow. But I need to find him first. Where could he have gone?”

Roscoe frowned in thought. “Probably not a long walk in this weather.” He smiled slightly, trying to lighten her mood. “I’m sure he’s OK, Evie, wherever he is.”

“But he thinks I…”

“I know.” Roscoe sighed. “Poor old Aubrey. I suppose he’s gone to a friend. Perhaps his family, one of his brothers.”

“Do you have their number?”

“No. But his dad and his brother Andrew both work at—”

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