Page 7 of Read Between The Lines

I emerged from the break room twenty minutes later feeling like a woman transformed. My pretty dress swished as I walked, my make-up was on point, and the extra squirt of the expensive perfume I reserved only for the most special of occasions, meant that I was surrounded by a delicately fragrant floral cloud. The world looked like a brighter, better place. Even spotting that irritating guy in the business section with his feet back up on a chair couldn’t put a dent in my good mood.

Three steps from the front desk, my phone buzzed again and I came crashing down to reality as I read the baffling message.

Hello beautiful, I’m so sorry, but I’m having cash flow issues and I’m stranded in London. I wouldn’t ask in normal circumstances, but I’m desperate to see you. Could you arrange a bank transfer to cover my ticket back to Oxford, and a few essentials I need to buy after being out of the country for so long? I can’t wait to hold you in my arms at last. Brian xoxo

ChapterThree

Istared at the text, trying to make sense of it. April Fool’s Day was last week, so it couldn’t be some kind of strange joke. The message seemed so out of character, and such a weird request. What had happened to cause Brian to be stuck in London without funds? Surely the army wouldn’t bring their soldiers back to the UK and then leave them with no means of getting home? It seemed totally illogical. Suddenly my pre-date nerves morphed into something much more uncomfortable. He couldn’t be… I mean… I hadn’t been… had I? I instantly fought back at the questions, trying to ignore the disloyal thoughts which were swirling around. This was Brian I was wondering about. Brian who’d sent me cute voice notes from the start, who’d always seemed so keen, so open.

Well, open to a degree, the warning voice reminded me, incidents which I’d previously dismissed flooding into my head. Despite many promises that we could FaceTime, somehow it had never happened. The excuses had always seemed so reasonable and plausible– bad signal, a sudden change of orders, prioritising internet time for the lower ranks– all things that had seemed to be a normal part of army life, things that were ultimately beyond his control, despite his best efforts. He’d never gone into details about exactly where he was deployed, but again that hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary. I didn’t know anyone in the armed forces, so of course I had a lot to learn about the way things worked. But now I thought about it, surely only special forces soldiers were so particular about not revealing their whereabouts? And Brian had always made out he worked as a regular officer. To be honest, if he’d told me he was a member of special forces, that would have set the alarm bells ringing much earlier.

I hated that I was thinking this way, but the more I examined our interactions, the more concerned I grew. I tried to argue with the warning voice. Maybe this was just another manifestation of the insecurity which was always present at the back of my mind, niggling away at me, telling me that I wasn’t worthy of being loved. Why shouldn’t an attractive man like Brian fall for me? He’d explained his sudden need for funds. And it wasn’t like he was asking for a huge amount of money. He was probably exhausted after travelling, and at the end of his tether. Wasn’t it natural for him to reach out to someone he cared for, someone he trusted to help him? Was I such a selfish person that I couldn’t assist the man who might turn out to be my soulmate?

But why wouldn’t he approach his friends or family first? And what if asking for a relatively small sum was a test to see how gullible and easy to manipulate I was, the voice of reason countered, louder still. What if I transferred the money, then he encountered another ‘problem’ which would require more funds, and prevent him from arriving at our dinner date? If one of our library patrons had come to the front desk asking my advice on an identical situation, wouldn’t I have immediately intervened and advised them not to give the scammer a penny?

Okay, I’d acknowledged the elephant tramping noisily around the room. Scammer. The very word made me feel hot with shame. Was that what Brian was? Had I been played from the start? Or was I paranoid and overthinking the situation? I needed an impartial opinion.

‘Moira, would you take a look at this?’ I asked, hurrying over to where she was reshelving books in the business section. I still wanted to believe that I was wrong, to have Moira look at the message, laugh at my suspicions, and send me happily on my way to enjoy my first date.

‘What’s the matter? Have you had bad news?’ she said the second she saw my face.

‘Maybe,’ I said, still hesitantly. ‘Probably. But I’m really, really hoping I’m wrong.’

The chair which the annoying guy was sitting on creaked.

I lowered my voice, hoping that it would make it harder for him to eavesdrop.

‘What do you make of this message? Do you think…’ I hesitated to say it, not wanting to plant ideas in Moira’s head. ‘Do you think he’s a fraudster?’ The words came out a lot more bluntly than I’d intended.

Moira started reading the message out loud.

I hissed at her to be quiet, but it was too late. Muddy Boots wasn’t even bothering to hide his interest and was sitting up straight watching me carefully. I deliberately turned so he was out of my line of sight.

‘I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I? I’ve been single for too long and I’m totally overreacting to something completely normal, aren’t I?’ I said, ashamed at the note of desperation in my voice.

‘Oh Kat,’ said Moira. The sympathetic tone was nearly my undoing. I hugged my arms to myself, wishing that I wasn’t standing there in a ridiculously bright yellow dress, with my glammed-up face, posh perfume, and all… for what? To be made a fool of. I felt so silly. Why was I even surprised? Of course it had been too good to be true that a gorgeous guy like Brian would even take a second glance at someone like me. I swallowed hard, fiercely ordering my eyes to stop watering. If I cried over this, I’d appear even more pathetic.

To my shame, I tried one last plea.

‘Brian isn’t a romance fraudster, is he? Is he?’

Muddy Boots stood up and sighed.

‘The red flags are so big I’m amazed you’ve not been knocked over by the strength of them blowing in the breeze. I guarantee the guy’s not even called Brian to start with. He’ll be using an alias to avoid getting caught.’

Way to make me feel even more stupid.

‘Right, and what exactly qualifies you to make such a confident statement?’ I bit back, turning my rage and devastation towards him. I would never, ever speak to a library user in such a rude tone in normal circumstances, but everything I thought I knew had been turned upside down and I felt utterly mortified that I’d allowed myself to be taken in. Having it pointed out by a complete stranger was the final straw.

He smiled and held out his hand to introduce himself. I scowled back, refusing to shake it. How dare he be so insouciant at such a time? Was he enjoying seeing me being made a fool of?

‘I’m Leo Taylor and I’m a police officer.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I was a police officer.’ Even in the midst of my emotional turmoil, I couldn’t fail to notice the shadow which passed over his face as he corrected himself.

‘Youwerea police officer?’ It was cruel of me to emphasise the past tense, and I regretted it almost instantly, but I remained silent. If I made a fuss about it, it would make it into a bigger deal. Besides, he wasn’t exactly going out of his way to be sensitive to me, despite my obvious distress.

‘Yes, in CID. That’s the Criminal Investigation Department. It means I was a detective. I dealt with a fair few romance fraud cases, and that message is a textbook example of one. Let me guess how it went.’ He rocked back on his heels and started checking things off on his fingers. ‘He’s been building up your trust over the last few weeks, all the time seeming to be really keen, but somehow he’s never been able to meet? And now he’s stuck in a terrible situation, and only you can help him? I’ll tell you what happens next in this scenario. You transfer a train fare to his bank out of the goodness of your heart, and before you know it, your account has been drained and lover boy has run off to target his next victim. Or worse, he sticks around, always with an almost plausible sob story, and you become his human cash machine. You take out loans, sell your possessions, always eager to help this man who has the worst luck but who says he loves you so very much, and when he’s squeezed you dry, finally he’ll move on to his next victim, leaving you alone, in debt and feeling like a fool.’

I already felt like a fool, and far-too-full-of-himself ex-police officer Leo Taylor was making me feel so much worse. It was such an effort to fight the sob building at the back of my throat that my nose started running. I sniffed, desperately wishing I had a tissue handy. Was I doomed to lose all dignity in front of this man? I hated what he was saying, and I hated the fact that he was probably right even more.

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