‘He’s a good boss, and a good lawyer.’

‘A good boss.’ Fox repeated the words, for no apparent reason. For a moment, neither one said anything. Georgie sensed that they had reached an impasse. Nice Fox was fading away.

‘You seem very friendly,’ Fox said, turning her head partially away.

‘We work together.’

‘Hmm. I’ll bet.’

Georgie didn’t like the sudden change of direction, or Fox’s intonation.

‘To be honest, it’s really none of your business.’

‘Of course not,’ said Fox, without an ounce of sincerity. ‘None of my business.’

‘It’s been nice talking to you,’ she said, getting up. ‘Thanks for the drink.’

‘No comment for me, then?’

‘Not today.’

Georgie turned to go but the way Fox had turned the conversation onto her relationship with Charlie had made her feel uneasy. Like there was something she was missing. Rattled, Georgie headed for the stairs. Behind her, she heard Fox call out.

‘Bye, Georgie. Oh, and watch out for those bees!’

Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Gail Woodbead lay in bed. She hadn’t slept all night. She had tried to, but whichever way she lay, she couldn’t get comfortable. She had remained there for hours, eyes wide open, feeling the sheets get stickier and stickier with sweat.

She leant across and checked her phone. One message from Andros: WHEN ARE YOU COMING HOME?

Gail put the phone down, stared at the ceiling. She had told him she would be home last night, but she had no intention of going anywhere just yet.

Her mind was made up. She would see the trial through, then leave. Everything. Andros, The Real Byte, Tomas Jansen, London. Maybe even England. Hell, there was a whole world out there.

She climbed out of bed. She could hear music from the room next door – Tomas was up and about. Maybe he hadn’t even gone to sleep. She showered, letting the hot water scald her until it ran out and she had to wash of the last of the shampoo off in cold water. All the time, she kept coming back to Tomas and his grand vision, his desperation to destroy Alexia Elias. And Bella.

Bella had been twenty when she had first started working as a temp at The Real Byte. She was attractive, with a vulpine face and raven-black hair. Young, pretty and naive. Just Tomas’s type, and it didn’t take him long before they were sharing a bed. At first it was nothing out of the ordinary, and Bella came into work bursting with joy, beaming from ear to ear when he winked at her across the room, the redness flushing her face.

It probably hadn’t changed overnight but, over the years, Gail’s recollection had crystallised into a single image of Bella, the colour in her face extinguished, and a bruise across her cheek the size of a man’s fist.

‘What happened?’ Gail had asked.