A Dangerous Affair Chapter 55

A Chapter by Repgreece

Stephanie is determined to find out why Tom had to leave

Stephanie was dreading arriving at work the following morning. After Tom had left she had climbed into the spare bed. Irrationally it had made her feel closer to Tom. She could still smell his cologne on the pillow and she had wrapped her arms around it and held it to her. She cried herself to sleep that night and awoke feeling drained and confused. Nonetheless, through the haze of hurt and uncertainties she had at least come to realise that he had left for a reason that had nothing to do with their relationship. He had asked her to trust him; he had said that she knew him more than anyone and her instincts told her that something was wrong for him to leave like that. Her pride had told her something quite different though; that she was kidding herself, that he had got bored with waiting for a physical relationship between them and that he had gone back to move on with his life. But after sufficient wallowing in self-pity an overwhelming concern for his safety had taken over and she had fallen asleep wracking her brains to find out why he was forced to return to Ireland.

The office that day was eerily quiet and it left her wondering what everyone else knew. Brick was exceptionally low key, spending most of the time in his office with the door closed. Stephanie had begun the day determined to reassess the Carlton situation, convinced that it had something to do with Tom’s departure but by lunchtime she was no closer to finding any answers. The background noises of the office, the laughing and the superficial chitchat, had begun to grate on her nerves. Did nobody notice that there was someone missing? Did nobody care?

Frustrated with her own shortcomings and angry with everyone around her she stormed into Brick’s office, demanding answers.

“Sir, I need to know what Tom said to you. What was his reason for leaving?”

Brick lifted his head and contemplated her for a few long disconcerting moments. Although she seemed angry he could see the pain in her face, the tiredness in her eyes that were still slightly puffy from hours of crying the previous night.

“He said that he had to go back, he couldn’t tell me why but he was going. That’s all I know.”

“And you didn’t push him for answers?” she came back.

“He wasn’t in the mood for explanations Stephanie. I advised him not to go but he wouldn’t listen. What more could I do? I’m not his bloody keeper!” Brick’s response came out a little more harshly than he had intended and the look of disappointment and betrayal on Stephanie’s face cut him to the quick. “If it makes any difference to you Stephie, he asked me to take care of you. He was…” Brick struggled to get the following words out, “…concerned for you. I don’t believe that he wanted to leave.”

“Sir, this is what worries me. I think that it may have something to do with the Carlton story.”

Brick shook his head. “It has nothing to do with that.”

“But I really think…” she began.

Brick cut her off. “Stephanie, it has nothing to do with that,” he repeated. He seemed so adamant. How did he know? How could he be sure? He watched her face for a moment and then sighed loudly and reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a file. He stood and walked around his desk, grabbing a box of tissues on the way which he put in front of her before placing a hand on her shoulder. “Read the reports,” he gestured to his desk. “They will make some things clearer for you. I’ll leave you alone for a while.” And with that he strolled out of the door, closing it behind him.

A frown flickered across Stephanie’s face. Was this what Tom and Brick had talked about in his office all those times when she had been excluded? She wasn’t sure that she was going to want to read the reports as Tom had always been so upset after those meetings. Slowly rising out of her chair she moved around Brick’s desk and took his seat, looking down at the newspapers in the file. The first one she saw on the top of the pile had a picture of Tom on it and when she flicked through the rest she saw that they were all written by Tom himself, a series of reports on the same subject, ‘Fighting for family and country, the teenager’s struggle in the ghettos of Belfast.’ She turned back to the first paper and read the article, moving on to the others immediately afterwards. Each one of them were both fascinating and heart wrenching as they described the appalling lives of the youths who were dragged into conflicts and forced to fight to protect their friends and families. All the articles were written with such sensitivity and emotion that Stephanie was helpless to hold back the tears. But what had this all got to do with Tom leaving London? So he had been involved in street gangs as a youth but he had made a new life for himself in London. He had a good job, an apartment and a budding relationship with her, which she had thought had made him happy. Why would he go back to Ireland where he had faced such heartache?

Stephanie reached for a tissue, plucking it out of the box, drying her eyes and blowing her nose. She sat for a while longer before she eventually rose out of her seat and went to find Brick. As soon as she opened the door he spotted her and gestured for her to stay where she was.

“You probably have more questions. Let’s go back in here,” he said, moving back into his office and closing the door.

“I don’t see what this has to do with him going back to Ireland now,” she said, taking a seat again.

Brick sat opposite her. “I thought you’d say that. He still hasn’t entirely managed to put his past in Ireland behind him. I thought we had kept the trouble at bay. He’s been having the odd threatening phone call but nothing seemed to have come of it. Or so I thought, maybe I was wrong.”

Stephanie’s eyes widened in horror. “So you let him go back? But he’s going to be in a lot more danger there!”

Brick ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve done all I can for Tom Stephanie! He was determined to go! What would you have me do?” he said with exasperation.

“I don’t know but none of this makes sense!” she replied. “I still think this could be to do with Carlton. I don’t know why but I just feel that it is!”

“But you two stopped working on the Carlton story, didn’t you?” he asked suspiciously. She avoided eye contact with him. “Stephanie?”

A sudden knock on the door saved her from having to reply. Martin, one of the reporters, put his head around the door and informed Stephanie that there was someone on the telephone for her.

Brick grunted and allowed Stephanie to leave but warned her that they hadn’t finished their conversation.

She went to her desk and picked up the receiver.

“Can we meet?” came the nervous reply.

It was Samantha. “Where, at the park?” Stephanie asked.

“No, meet me at the country club where you saw us before. I’m there now. I have some information you are going to want,” she said, hanging up.

Stephanie put down the receiver and glanced towards Brick’s office. The door was closed. She grabbed her handbag and swiftly left the office.

As soon as Stephanie arrived at the hotel and country club she was hit with such an intense feeling of loss. The last time she had been on that terrace was with Tom when, ironically, he had lured her there under the pretence of a meeting with Samantha. She had protested so adamantly against the date, so much so that Tom had been forced to deny that it was a proper date at all. And yet he had been persistent, despite her aloofness, and the time she had spent with him had turned out to be one of the most memorable evenings of her life. These bitter sweet memories taunted her but they also gave her a strange sense of hope, for she reasoned that no man would go to so much trouble to be with a woman if he planned on leaving her only days later.

Samantha was sat with her back to Stephanie as she moved across the terrace and she only acknowledged Stephanie’s presence with a slight nod of her head when she joined her at the table. As Samantha finished her coffee, tipping back the tiny espresso cup to drain its contents, Stephanie pondered on the woman’s reasons for bringing her there. She looked guarded, wary, poised on the edge of something.

“You’ve stopped working on the story haven’t you?” Samantha said suddenly.

“My colleague has left the paper but I intend to continue working on it,” Stephanie replied.

“If you don’t want to lose your colleague you have to see it through.”

“What does Tom going back to Ireland have to do with Carlton?” she asked suddenly, convinced that Samantha would know.

“Carlton needed you both to stop pursuing him but your father was too much for him to take on with everything else on his plate. After the failed attack on the newspaper he began to look for another way to stop you both and he focused on Tom, believing that if Tom stopped working with you that you wouldn’t be able to continue on your own…”

“Excuse me for interrupting ladies but I have a message for you.” The restaurant manager appeared from nowhere, addressing Samantha politely. Samantha looked up at him anxiously. “It appears that your young gentleman is waiting for you by the lake.”

“But I told him to wait in the lobby,” she said, almost to herself.

“Yes and that’s the odd thing,” the man continued, “because the message didn’t come from your gentleman friend, it came from an older gentleman. A most disagreeable fellow too; he barked out orders to my staff and had them almost quaking in their boots at his aggressive tone.”

“Carlton’s got Jack!” Samantha exclaimed in horror, jumping out of her seat. “And if he’s got Jack and he’s here then he knows about us!”

“Wait.” Stephanie grabbed Samantha by the arm. “Let me call my father first. He has powerful contacts in the police force who are investigating Carlton. We should wait until the police have been informed, it’s not safe.”

Samantha’s face was contorted with anguish, she was torn, uncertain what to do next, but her gut instinct was to run to Jack.

“I need to go now,” she panicked, twisting her arm out of Stephanie’s grip. “Maybe I can reason with him. If I do what he says he might let Jack go.”

“Okay but just give me one minute to make the call and then I’ll come with you,” Stephanie said, dialling the number.

Samantha had already jumped out of her seat though and was making her way down the steps towards the lake. Just as her father answered the call Stephanie decided to follow Samantha and she spoke to him briefly as she was walking, hanging up when he began bellowing at her. He may be angry with her but at least he would telephone for help.