I looked at her and then turned to smile at Emma. She was right. I had known this since the moment Emma disappeared. Yes, there were things we needed to know about one another and I had concerns whether I would ever know everything about her, but we were in love and that would be enough.
‘Thanks Dr Da... Veronica,’ I said slowly, standing up and shaking her hand warmly. I owed a lot to her and I wasn’t going to forget it. She smiled back in a friendly way and I realised I had never seen her look happy... or even smile. Emma thanked her and we walked out hand in hand.
‘So what do we do now?’ Emma asked.
‘Well, now we have to pay at reception...’
‘No, I mean... Now. What do we do now?’ she whispered softly, trying to find the path for our future.
‘Well... I love you, do you love me?’
‘Yes.’
‘So it makes sense to love each other for the rest of our lives, right?’
‘Right.’
‘Well, in that case...’ I pulled out a ring and knelt down on one knee, the way I had all those years before.
‘So, marry me... again... properly!’
*****
Weddings are a painful experience to organise, especially if you are a man. I think it gives you an idea of the extent of my love for her that I was willing to go through it again. After celebrating, we realised the logistical nightmare that getting married again would cause. All of my family were unaware yet that I had found Emma and, while telling them the truth was out of the question, we had to come up with a reason why she had disappeared and why I had forgiven her so easily. I may have been willing to forgive and forget, but my mum certainly wouldn’t. Speaking of family...
‘Who are those people... were they you’re parents? You know, we went round for dinner every other week?’
Emma looked up at me sadly.
‘They are... friends. Old friends that I’ve known for years. They are like parents to me but they aren’t my mum and dad. My parents are dead.’
She said it so softly, but it was still clear how deeply those words cut her.
‘They died when I was ten. Car-crash. The people you knew took me in and helped raise me. They were... involved.’
‘Involved’ meant part of the criminal world although I was beginning to realise that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Life, I was starting to understand, was not always black and white.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I whispered and wrapped my arm around her shoulder. ‘I went to see them after you left and they weren’t there.’
‘I know. I sent them a message. A sort of SOS. We have a system and they would have gone to ground. We won’t be seeing them for a while. One day, they will find us, wherever we are.’
‘I hope so. They're good people,’ I replied.
Eventually the plan was set. We still had plenty of Emma’s money left over and whilst we had agreed to refrain from anymore criminal activities, we both agreed that there would be no harm in spending the money that remained. Family would ask too many questions but there were a few close, loved ones that knew the truth. Two weeks after being shot, we were on a private jet, sipping champagne in the company of Sophie, Jack and Rachel.
Jack had told Rachel everything and although she had been furious for a little while that she had been left out, she understood why he'd been so protective. She was proud of the man he was. We all were (he was a hero, don’t you know). It cost a fortune to hire the plane but, being alone with our friends, in an environment where we could be honest and open about everything we went through was incredible. We had hours to talk, drink and laugh. After all, St Lucia was miles away.
There were no stones left unturned as we discussed everything.
‘What happened to you Ems?’ asked Rachel. ‘I mean, how did it start?’
‘Well, you know I pissed off the Kozlovs? I was coming back from work and they jumped me. I didn’t even see them coming. All I remember was walking and then darkness. I got knocked out from behind, I guess. Next thing I know, I woke up in Parlour Street.’
‘Then what?’
‘It was pretty horrible. They basically said if I didn’t do everything exactly as they wanted they would kill Tom. As I like him, a little, I didn’t really have a choice.’
It was hard to hear but I wanted to know. I had always wondered this but didn’t want to bring it up with her, in case it was too traumatic or something. Not for Emma though, she was solid as a rock.
‘So they gave me two hours to get some stuff and leave a note. I knew they would check everything and so I had to think on my feet and use the lockers. I knew Tom would be smart enough to work it out.’
I blushed a little, perhaps with embarrassment. It shouldn’t have taken me as long as it did to find it. I felt like an idiot.
‘And for the next few weeks I was kept like a prisoner in the house. Any attempts to communicate with Tom and both of us were dead. Any activities that weren’t planning a job or actually doing one were banned under threat of death. It was pretty horrible.’
I had a question I needed to know the answer to. ‘Did they hurt you?’
‘Not at all. One of the Russian guys with them was a bit rough with me once and I broke his nose so out of respect they kept their distance. As long as I did what I was told there was no reason for anything to go wrong.’
‘Were you scared?’ asked Rachel.
‘Of course, but I was just praying Tom was in the Bahamas somewhere, out of danger. I didn’t expect him to turn up the way he did.’
Emma recounted the tale of the way I had walked, portraying me in a very good light, before asking me to explain exactly what happened at the Dorchester that night. I did, making sure to miss out how nervous I had felt and just explain the facts (with a few embellishments). Time passed by amicably as they all listened in silent awe to what I had done.
‘You’re a fucking idiot, but you are one brave bastard,’ summed up Jack. That was probably a fair character assessment.
Eventually most of the questions were answered. There was just one huge gaping hole I could think of. Before I could ask it, Sophie beat me to it.
‘So explain to me why you were always at ‘Raynmer and Steins’ if you didn’t work there. What did you do all that time?’
‘Yeah,’ I added, pointlessly.
Emma smiled mischievously at us before laughing.
‘That is a good question. You see, when I met Tom, I panicked and when you asked me what I did, I couldn’t very well say I was a professional con-artist so I said...’
‘A trainee lawyer,’ I finished for her.
‘Exactly, so then you actually liked me and I fell in love, I only had the time we were in Mallorca to create this whole life back in London. I had a flat in London and was planning to move there anyway so it made sense...’
‘You didn’t live in London beforehand?’ I exclaimed.
‘Not properly, so I found a respectable law firm nearby and decided to tell you that was where I was working, whilst I carried on stealing. Except, I soon realised that I didn’t want that life anymore, I wanted to be an honest citizen. But it wasn’t that easy because you started driving me to work or meeting me for lunch so I had to keep pretending I worked there.’
‘So how did you get past the security guards and reception?’ Jack asked.
She gave him a pitying look. ‘Please. It’s what I do.’ We all laughed. I had seen Emma in action and she could do anything she pleased.
‘That wasn’t the hard part, but it was difficult once I was inside. I had to find a way of getting in and out to look convincing so I found an office which had a fire escape and a big safe and conned the cleaning staff that the management wanted it used as storage. It was easy really. The bosses never communicate with the cleaning staff and the cleaners will do what they think head office tells them to, so before long I had a base to work from. I could come and go from the fire escape as much as I pleased.’
‘So did you need to go p
ast the security guards?’
‘Probably not, but I enjoyed the challenge,’ she smiled.
‘OK, so I get why you were in there but what did you do every day for years?’
‘I started a business. I used some of my ‘money’ to set up a little cafe around the corner and ran a properly honest company. I hired a manager and everything so I could just pop in when I wanted to and whenever you asked to meet up for lunch I would go back through the fire escape and back down the stairs.’
‘Are you serious? Why didn’t you just tell me you had left being a lawyer to work in the cafe... which cafe by the way?’ I asked. I guess it didn’t really matter, but all the lies... it was still hard to take in.
‘I wanted to but how could I? Give up a law degree and where did I get the money to start a cafe? Too many questions. That was the only time I used my money, I swear, until I gave it to you. It’s a little place called ‘Sweet Tooth’ just off Harper Street.’
I wasn’t angry. We had been through too much together to let this upset me but it was a shock. All this time she had set up a small, successful cafe and worked honestly amid her world of lies and crime. I was almost proud of her.
‘I know ‘Sweet Tooth!’ shouted Sophie. ‘I've been there loads, it’s great. What if I had seen you?’
‘It was a worry; everything was. I was going to tell you all, I promise.’ Tears began filling her eyes. I imagine the weight of all of her lies finally coming off her shoulders must have felt amazing. It was all too much for her and I held her tight until the tears stopped.
‘It’s alright darling, everything is fine. Is there anything else you want to tell us?’
She looked exhausted but was happy to be sharing.
‘Not today.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘I bought the wrong teabags; can you believe it?’
Things settled down after the wedding. We held the ceremony on a beach in St Lucia and I made sure this one was legitimate. I know it sounds like a cliché but life really does go on and three months after the wedding, things were remarkably like they had been after our ‘first’ wedding.
We bought a new flat in a nicer area with three bedrooms. Enough room for guests to stay or perhaps a... baby? We hadn’t started trying yet but it was something we were definitely discussing. The new place was fairly spacious for London and the compromise had been that it was in need of some serious renovation. We had taken a month off together and then Emma returned to the cafe part-time, making sure it would continue being successful. We still had plenty of money and I decided to take a few months off to decide what career I wanted and to fix up our new place. It was only a ten minute walk from our old place and Sophie often walked round and helped me with the decorating. After three months we were well on our way to completing it.
I began procrastinating, if I am honest. I realised as soon as the home was made homey, I would have to plot out a future for myself. But what could I do? The only thing I was qualified in was accounting and right now I would rather be locked in a cell with the Kozlovs than go back into accounting. I doubted that Hamilton’s would give me a glowing reference after the way I had quit.
There was something else too. I had changed. This whole experience had been a wild journey and one that had altered everything I believed in forever. How could I go back to normality? What was normal? I was just getting used to death threats and difficult con-jobs and whilst I didn’t miss having a gun pressed to my head, I did miss feeling... alive.
I wanted to deny how I was feeling but it was the truth. Living without Emma had been the worst experience of my life (and I don’t miss a second of that!) but when I found her and what we had to achieve became apparent, it did change me. It was terrifying and horrendous at times, but it was exhilarating. After a while you get to need the rush; the hit of adrenaline. I understood how easy it was to fall into a life of crime now. All you have to do is stumble upon the lifestyle; if you succeed at it, why would you want to stop? Apart from the whole moral aspect of stealing of course.
It wasn’t just me who was struggling. Emma was twitchy; I could tell. Something had woken up inside her and although the relief was enormous, the mundane swing of civilian life was stressing her. There would be days of total bliss and then there would be others where nothing I could do would be enough. I would never describe it as ‘trouble in paradise’ but things weren’t perfect. Maybe when the house was finished or when we got pregnant... then it would be enough.
I actually caught myself saying the sentence, ‘I bought the wrong teabags; can you believe it?’ Emma didn’t say anything but she would have been fully entitled to punch me in the face. It is not exactly the most unbelievable story ever, especially after what we had been through recently. It was barely worth mentioning. Scratch that, it was definitely not worth mentioning. Something had to change. Who even has the right type of tea? I’ll tell you who: old pensioners. Not young, trendy people in their twenties.
*****
One Sunday afternoon we were resting after a particularly exerting walk and reading the papers. It was nice. Emma had brought some cake back from the cafe and we were content to make our way through both that and the papers. Emma had the main body of it, whilst I was chewing threw the sports (not literally).
‘Are you finished with yours?’ I asked, through a mouthful of carrot cake.
‘Yep,’ she replied, tossing me the paper. ‘I’m going for a bath. Give me a few minutes then you can join me if you like?’
‘I’ll be there.’
She disappeared and I began leafing through the news. The usual catalogue of war and political bullshit fell out and I skimmed past it looking for something to capture my imagination. Towards the back of the paper something caught my eye.
It was a large red circle surrounding a particular news story. The red was added recently as it was not yet dry. Emma had done it to draw my attention to it. I smiled and pulled it closer to focus my eyes. It read:
HIDDEN TREASURE UNVEILED IN MEXICO TODAY
The world’s largest collection of Incan gold will be put on display next week for the first time in Mexico City. Found two months ago by a team of archaeologists, it has been lovingly restored to perfect condition. The collection, considered to be worth well over $100 million, is now the largest known group of Incan gold and artwork in the world.
I flicked through the rest of the article but couldn’t take my eyes off the first paragraph. Why had Emma circled it? As a joke? Unlikely. I knew exactly why she had drawn my attention to it. She felt the same way I did inside. I tore out the article and toyed with it in my hand for a second while I thought.
Well, I guess we could...
I’ve never been to Mexico.
THE END
About the Author
I know the trendy thing to do is to write this section in the third person, but I find it cringe-worthy and will just try to let you know a little bit about myself. I was born in Rugby in the summer of 1989. If I’m honest I don’t remember too much of Rugby; I’m sure it was nice and I have fond memories of certain events but when I was eight I moved to Warwick, which I consider to be my hometown. I’ll be twenty-five this year and I’ve still not fallen out of love with the place.
My family are hugely important in my life, as I hope is the case with most people. My parents are both loving, supportive and exceedingly generous. Their guidance means the world to me. My sister, Gemma, lives up in Yorkshire now, but still plays a humongous part in making sure this book isn’t full of errors. She would give up her free time to help at a drop of a hat, and I owe her a great deal for that.
Writing has always been a passion of mine. There are pictures of me reading books and writing stories when I was so small, holding a pencil seemed like a lot of work. It never became a conscious thought of something I wanted to pursue at school. It was just something I did. A lot.
I’ve done every manner of jobs from working in shops, to running tennis clubs and tea
ching in schools. Each one I have enjoyed and had some success at but there was never any passion there, certainly not in the way that writing offers. When I turned twenty I decided I wanted to take this seriously and began researching and writing different ideas. I don’t remember exactly when but this storyline came to me almost completely formed.
The book was almost not written several times. There would be days where I loved every line and others when my self-doubt would get the better of me and I wondered if it was any good. If you enjoyed the book you have my wife to thank for that. Alice is one of the true angels on this planet. She discovered my abandoned manuscript, read it and was determined I should finish it. Without her, I wouldn’t be writing this now!
As I just mentioned, I am happily married and loving living in a small village with Alice and our (daughter substitute) dog, Bella. Her family (which are now mine and have been for seven years) are truly amazing people, all of whom want me to succeed even more than I do!
I truly hope you enjoyed the book and please check out the sequel, this summer! I think you’re going to love it.
Someone once asked me what my favourite thing to do was. I ran through the whole list of my hobbies, from football to tennis and many more but the only thing I want to do is create. Being creative is what makes humans so unique and if I can look back on my life and see a large body of work that I’ve created and am proud of, I can die very happily.
Anyway, that is me. Watch this space as I continue to grow. Don’t forget to find me on facebook (www.facebook.com/chrisdohertywriter) or twitter (@cdohertywriter). I look forward to talking to you!
THE PURSUIT OF PERFECTION
A year has passed since Tom found Emma, and what a year it has been. With no more lies to hold them back, they are free to be a real couple at last. Just when they decide the time for settling down and having a family has reached them, they are dragged back into the world they are so desperate to get out from.