Page 94 of Never Tell Lies

“Come on,” I opened my door, “before your guy blows a gasket.”

Alfie took my hand and I kissed him when we reached the top of the steps.

“Come and find me when you’re done. I’ll be in the garden.” He gave me a stiff nod and I had to tug on my hand a little before he let go.

I followed the path around the house, the same path I’d taken the first time I came here. I smiled as I passed the spot where I’d collided with Alfie and my world had turned upside down.

As soon as I was on the grass I took my shoes off, relishing in the feel of the earth beneath my feet. I walked down the steady slope and felt myself relax. The sun shone through the trees in its last hour before it began its long spring sunset.

I descended the broken stone steps to the hidden garden, careful of my bare feet.

The plot seemed bigger than I remembered and memories of being here with Alfie flooded me.

If you’re struggling for inspiration, just imagine me fucking you in it…

I saw myself lying in a garden of begonias, surrounded by buddleias, pycamors, the scent of honeysuckle in the air and my Alfie lying beside me. I imagined him making love to me here, and as I pictured it the garden opened up to me. Isawit.

I sat down, and I began to draw.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, lost in an imaginary world of hues and aromas, but as I returned to my senses I became aware of two things. One, the world had grown darker around me. Two, I wasn’t alone.

A pinched face, home to narrowed eyes, was staring at me.

“Angie,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice steady, “do you need something?”

“Not at all.” She smiled sweetly. “I just wanted to see your work. May I?” She advanced on me and I snapped my sketchbook shut.

“I’d rather you didn’t, actually.” I grabbed my Converse and shoved my feet in them, not bothering to do the laces. She looked at my shoes with something akin to a grimace but I ignored it, getting to my feet to face that simpering smile.

“Well, I’m sure you’re very talented. You must be for Alfie to give you so much of his time.” I arched a brow at her insinuation. “Tell me, what exactly is it you’re doing to keep his attention so well? Are you double jointed or something? Or maybe it’s just that you are so exactly his type.”

Don’t bite, Lola. Do not bite.

“His type?”

“Sure. You are his favourite kind of play-thing.” She looked over my appearance with distaste. “Poor and pretty. You’re easy to impress, easy to manipulate. Girls like you make men feel powerful, but the novelty wears off pretty quickly and that’s where women like me become valuable.” She sneered and took a step towards me. I folded my arms as if her words hadn’t hit their mark. “You’re not the first, you know. The first young girl to be spun by his wealth and?—”

“I don’t care about his money.”

“Of course you don’t,” she sneered again. “Well, if it’s not his money then what is the motivation? Why are you putting up with his treatment of you? Doesn’t it bother you at all that he was in London with me last week?”

“He didn’t sleep with you.”

“Well, of course he told you that! Listen, as I said, you’re not the first. Alfie and I have been together, of a fashion, for a long time. He’s always had dalliances but he drops them as quickly as he finds them.I’mthe one that has kept his interest all these years.I’mthe one he wants on his arm at functions, galas, state dinners?—”

“You’re his PA?—”

“—not a home spun, second-hand girl likeyou!” she screeched, pointing a red-tipped finger at me.You’re his psycho PA,I thought as she took a moment to gather herself. “I give you another week, hell, maybe a month if you’re reallytalented.But after that month, he’ll forget you and move on.”

‘Move on.’ Just like I’d thought he had when he left. I could still remember that pain like a knife in the gut.

“You’re a jealous bitch, Angie,” I said, trying to cover the insecurity she’d just stirred up inside me.

“But am I a liar?” With that, she turned and disappeared up the steps. I stood there clutching my sketchbook to my chest like a life vest. When I was sure I’d given her enough time to return to the house, I made my escape.

Tears welled in my eyes. I hated that I’d let her make me feel so small. I had never been a person who thought little of themselves but next to Angie, I couldn’t help but compare.

Harrington House loomed over me. I balked at the idea of going in.Shewould be in there with him and I couldn’t face the two of them and their ethereal beauty again, not in my cheap dress and old shoes. I felt a wave of anger all over again that I’dlet her make me feel ashamed over things I’d never cared about before.

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