Page 39 of Twisted Lies
‘I think you can. All I want is to talk for five minutes and then you can throw—’
The sound of the chain sliding across the door cut off her words.
The door opened to reveal a woman about the same height as herself. Her hair was short and severe but the style did nothing to detract from the attractive face.
She wore jeans and a V-neck sweatshirt. Her only jewellery was a pair of stud earrings.
‘How did you find me?’ she asked, stepping aside.
Frost noticed she took a look up and down the street before closing and locking the door.
‘Many hours on the electoral roll,’ Frost said, following her through a light and airy lounge to a kitchen at the back of the house.
‘And your last name…’ Frost added, in case that was something she wanted to address.
‘Yeah, I’ve got my dad to thank for that,’ she said, turning off a running tap. It appeared that she’d caught the woman immersed in a deep clean of her kitchen cupboards.
Was there any satisfaction to be gained from such a task? Frost wondered. There were things wedged in the back of her cupboards that had been there since the day she’d moved in. And for her they could stay there until she really could find nothing better to do with her time.
‘You tried to warn Trisha about Nick Morley, didn’t you?’ Frost asked, taking a seat at the small wooden table.
Ariane sat opposite and regarded her cautiously. ‘Why would I tell you anything? There’s no way I want my name in the papers. Especially given what’s going on at the minute. There’s a lot of money and man hours going into trying to get Nick off the hook.’
‘I understand and your name won’t be mentioned. I’m writing a series of articles to try and address the balance.’
Ariane laughed out loud. ‘You are joking me?’
Frost shook her head. ‘Someone’s gotta do it. Trisha deserves that much.’
Ariane stopped laughing. ‘Nick has the best PR firm in the country working for him, and you think you can impact the image they’re building with your local daily newspaper?’
‘I can try,’ Frost answered, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. She didn’t need to be constantly reminded that she was throwing snowballs into a log fire. ‘I mean, did you think trying to warn Trisha was going to do any good?’
Ariane shook her head.
‘But you did it anyway.’
‘And I now wish I’d done more,’ Ariane said quietly. ‘Because Trisha saved my life.’
‘How so?’ Frost asked, taking a notebook from her bag.
Ariane eyed it suspiciously.
‘You have my word.’
‘Because he left me for her.’
‘Do you mind starting at the beginning?’ Frost asked.
Ariane turned and took a pack of cigarettes and an ashtray from the drawer. Frost wondered who she was hiding them from. She hadn’t seen evidence of a man or children in the small property.
‘I met Nick when I was working in a Pret close to Snow Hill station in Birmingham.’
Frost guessed she was talking about the café chain Pret a Manger.
‘He was working at a law firm around the corner and would pop in most days for lunch. He was incredibly good-looking and charming. He’d smile over at me even if I wasn’t serving him. I started to look forward to his visits and tried to position myself so that I’d be the one taking his order. One day I was having my own lunch break outside, reading, when he asked if he could join me. We chatted and the time flew by. After that I started scheduling my lunch to coincide with his visits. Eventually, he asked me out on a real date, and he took me for a romantic meal in town.
‘I don’t even remember how it happened, but within three months I’d moved into his canal-side apartment.’
