Page 49 of A Wish For Jo
She responded by wiping a table occupied by two pensioners picking sultanas out of their fruit scones. 'Oy! Mind what you're doing, love. We might be saving those for later.' The man chuckled, moving a handful of discarded sultanas to one side.
'No, she is not.' Aaliyah glared at Harvey, venom shooting from her eyes. 'She went to check something on the internet.'
'Ah, online shopping, I suppose.' Lindsey had loved browsing for books and clothes online, although why Jo needed to dash off when she could easily have used her phone—
'Imbecile!' Aaliyah sank her nails into Harvey's arm and manhandled him into the back room, which was currently occupied by a swarthy young man he’d never seen before. He too regarded Harvey as if he'd risen from the bowels of Hell sporting horns and a pointy tail.
‘What's your problem?' Harvey rubbed his arm, convinced he'd have puncture wounds.
'The problem is that you've upset Jo — again — and we're not happy about it. Are we, Dhassim?'
Swarthy Boy clicked his tongue to indicate his agreement. 'No, we are not. Jo is a special lady and we think you are taking the Mickey. Whoever Mickey is. I'm not sure what that actually means; I just heard it on a TV show.'
'Look, I know I upset Jo the other night, and I want to apologise. But you said I'd upset Jo again. I'm not sure what else I've done.' Harvey gave his head a metaphorical scratch. OK, he hadn't got in touch with Jo, but he was here now. Although she wasn't.
Aaliyah tutted loudly. 'You've been keeping secrets, but now the cat is out of the bag. Not anactualcat, Dhassim,' she added, as her companion scanned the floor. 'Jo's found out, and she's gone to read exactly what you did.'
Fear coursed through Harvey's veins. She could only be referring to one thing. If Jo now knew his dirty little secret, any chance of a reconciliation had just shattered like his precious memento of Lindsey. 'I have to go. Listen, I'm not a bad person, just a supremely stupid one. And I'm going to try to fix this.'
'Any chance of some service around here?' boomed an irate voice from the café, and Dhassim scuttled off. Aaliyah stayed put, disdain oozing from every pore.
'Good luck with that. Jo is my friend — well, kind of — and I don't take kindly to friends being lied to. She didn't say much before she left: just enough to suggest that you're not who you claim to be.'
Harvey considered an explanation, then realised that the only person he needed to explain anything to was Jo. Visions of her scrolling through the whole sordid Abby story brought bile to his mouth.
Haring along the road, Harvey sent up a silent prayer to a god he had no faith in.Please let Jo believe my side of the story. Please let it not be too late…
CHAPTER47
Jo staredat the computer screen. Multiple tabs were open, all with one thing in common. They each contained articles about the fall from grace of actor Harley Dempster, former star of hit TV dramaChasing Shadows. She'd looked at countless photos of the man she'd grown close to, those distinctive blue eyes so familiar. Only a couple of the images showed the scar on his left cheek and the faint traces of youthful acne, no doubt covered with make-up for professional shots and filming. Even his hair looked different: much lighter, with a gelled spikiness.
An actor through and through, thought Jo, rereading the lurid details about his harassment of young co-star Abby Kinsella and the subsequent collapse of his career. 'You had me fooled for a while, Mr Whatever Your Bloody Name Is,’ she muttered. ‘Even Aaliyah got it right. Lucky I got your measure before I made a total fool of myself.'
She swiped at a rogue tear as she recalled their time together, both good and bad. On balance, the bad probably outweighed the good, so why was she crying? She knew he still grieved for his wife, in itself a reason to steer well clear. What she hadn't known was that he'd stalked a young woman who still struggled with the fallout of being the object of someone's unwanted desires. Another, more recent article mentioned that Abby was taking part in a TV series focusing on women dealing with sexual harassment in the workplace.
'In this day and age it seems unimaginable that women like me still need to fight our corner over stuff like that.' A pretty girl — woman — but something about her jarred Jo. And something about the whole sorry situation niggled at her, like a wobbly tooth you had to keep prodding.
Innocent until proven guilty. Abby had never pressed charges against Harley/Harvey. Why not? Because she couldn't face the inevitable media circus? Or perhaps he'd threatened her, or had something on her that he could use to his own advantage if needed.
Jo massaged her temples, her fingertips trying to quell the tsunami of emotions pummelling her brain. Harvey had obviously run away to Cranley seeking anonymity. And he'd achieved it, until the village's version of Miss Marple uncovered his real identity.
'If he had nothing to be ashamed of, why didn't he tell me the truth?' Jo stared at a photo of Harvey taken at some showbiz event, a striking, dark-haired woman beside him. Lindsey, of course. Whatever else he'd lied about or omitted to mention, his love for his late wife shone like a beacon. Could Jo ever compete with a dead woman? Did she even want to?
Abby Kinsella's participation in the new TV show struck Jo as odd. Her allegations against Harvey had never been tested in a court of law, yet she was prepared to speak out about something that people were bound to connect with him. It brought to mind the downfall of a TV presenter many years ago, whose career had nosedived after sexual assault allegations provided endless tabloid fodder.
'I don't know what to think any more.' Jo closed all the tabs except one, a shot of Harvey from early in his career. Youthful optimism leapt from the image, his face an unlined canvas of hope. The scar stood out, but only added to his attractiveness. 'Oh, Harvey. I wish I could change things, but dishonesty is a deal-breaker for me. Even if I have been hiding the truth about Aaliyah and Dhassim—'
She jumped at a loud hammering at the front door. Oh God, had something awful happened at the café? Had Dhassim run amok with the cook’s blowtorch, or had Aaliyah assaulted a customer?
Imagining a stern-faced firefighter or police officer ready to break bad news, Jo stumbled to the door and wrenched it open. Harvey stood there, fist raised to give the door another battering. At least, Jo hoped that was the reason for his clenched hand.
'I have a doorbell, you know.'
'Sorry. I just wanted to be sure you heard me.'
Jo felt sure that the entire street had heard him. 'You'd better come in, I guess.' She kept her tone neutral, determined to maintain the upper hand.
'I went to the café but you weren't there. Well, obviously, as you're here. And I got hauled over the coals by Aaliyah and some young guy, so I thought I'd better come and see you.'
