Хилари Боннер - Death Comes First

He found himself thinking, as he so often did, of the young undergraduate he’d seduced twenty-six years earlier. He had been a fool ever to let her get away, but he’d been just a kid himself, out to earn a reputation as a Lothario. Joyce had been particularly receptive, a warm and eager lover. But at the time she’d merely been one more... well, he’d never actually carved notches on his bedpost, but that pretty much summed up his attitude in those days.

He was sure Joyce had been upset when she found out about the other women, but whereas most of his conquests cried and pleaded with him, Joyce had responded with a cold and distant anger. She’d been strong too, telling him that she wouldn’t stand for it, and that their relationship, such as it was, was over. At first he hadn’t cared a jot. It was only when Joyce and Charlie became an item that he began to have regrets, to wonder whether Joyce had meant more to him than he’d realized. He’d hoped that he might get a second chance, so he could prove that, beneath his devil-may-care facade, he really cared for her. Indeed he found himself hoping that the relationship between Joyce and Charlie wouldn’t last.

In spite of that, he set out to make friends with Charlie. He reckoned that if he was close to Charlie, he would be well placed to keep an eye on the state of their relationship and step in if it began to wane. Joyce accepted him as a friend far more readily than he would have expected. Whatever grudge she might have borne against him was forgotten the moment Charlie came on the scene.

It soon became evident that what Joyce had with Charlie was no fling. The pair were convinced that they would be together for ever — an opinion shared by anyone who came in contact with them. So there would be no second chance for Stephen. The best he could hope for was a platonic friendship with both halves of the couple who were soon to be known as JC.

The three of them remained firm friends even after Stephen graduated, a year ahead of Joyce. Having also completed his Legal Practice Course, he immediately joined a local firm of solicitors on a training contract.

But the more Stephen saw of Joyce, the more he wanted her. The attraction fascinated him. He knew the sensible thing would be to distance himself from her, that there was nothing to be gained by maintaining contact when he daren’t make any sort of move on her, but it was almost as if he relished the torment of being around her. Charlie, of course, was oblivious. He even asked Stephen to be best man at their wedding. And when a vacancy came up at Tanner-Max due to the retirement of Paul Gould, who’d been company secretary since Edward Tanner and Maxim Schmidt founded the firm, it was Charlie who recommended his newly qualified friend Stephen for the job.

Henry Tanner liked to say that he ran a tight ship. Tanner-Max was a close-knit affair and Paul Gould was not only a valued family friend but also something of an elder statesman in the company. Henry wasn’t comfortable with bringing in an outsider. The fact that Charlie could vouch for Stephen was as important a factor in landing the job as the professional qualifications Stephen had worked so hard to achieve.

Within months of his joining Tanner-Max, Charlie went off on extended paternity leave. That was when Stephen cemented his place at the family firm. He discovered there were intriguing and challenging aspects to the job, which he had not expected but which he found himself embracing willingly. Moreover the financial rewards were substantial, providing him with an enviable lifestyle. He bought himself an apartment in the regenerated dock area of Bristol, treated himself to long weekends in New York, and holidayed at the exclusive Coral Reef Club in Barbados, sometimes alone and sometimes with one of the never-ending string of young women he still seemed to be able to attract easily enough when he put his mind to it.

A few years ago he had re-established contact with the father his mother had left behind in Zimbabwe when he was only a boy. Stephen now made regular trips to Africa to visit his father and was building a relationship with his two half-brothers. They were the only family he had. Though Stephen was never short of female company, he’d not found anyone that he wanted to devote himself to and spend the rest of his life with. Invariably he’d find himself comparing the women in his life to Joyce and finding them wanting.

Charlie’s accident had opened the door for him to hope that he might yet be able to get close to Joyce in the way he so longed to. He had waited months, hovering in attendance, biding his time for the right moment to make his move. And it had gone so well too: in the event, she’d been the one who had suggested adjourning to the bedroom. Stephen had always been adept at subtly manipulating women so that they thought they were taking the initiative. He’d been convinced that their afternoon tryst would be the first of many. But perhaps he’d misjudged her and moved in too soon. Or maybe it was just the lousy timing of that damned letter turning up. Either way, there seemed little chance of a repeat performance now. He wondered how much of a setback this latest turn of events would prove to be. How long would it be before he’d be given another chance?

He tried to tell himself that Joyce’s anger towards him was a sign that she cared. Hopefully, now she’d got it out of her system, it would all blow over quickly so that they could carry on where they’d left off the previous week. But he wasn’t convinced.

Joyce clearly suspected him of having opened the letter, of having deliberately delayed forwarding it to her. She also seemed sure that he knew all about what had been troubling Charlie.

She was at least half right. Stephen hadn’t intended to open the letter. Not to begin with. He still considered himself to be an honourable man, although he followed his own particular code, which did not stretch to his relationships with women. Charlie had entrusted him with the letter, and believed it safe to do so, to be passed on to Joyce only in the event of his death. Charlie had been a young and healthy man. To some, writing that letter may have seemed a morbid thing to do. Stephen had understood, though. He knew that Charlie was a troubled soul, and he knew much of what had made him so, though not everything. And Stephen wanted to honour his friend’s wishes, he really did. But Stephen also had his own agenda in his abiding desire for Joyce. He also continued to harbour certain ambitions. He needed to protect himself. And he was not, of course, entirely his own man. Just as Charlie had not been entirely his own man. Indeed, nobody who came into close contact with Henry Tanner ever remained totally in charge of their own destiny.

Henry had always been alert to the slightest telltale sign that someone was keeping a secret from him, whether it be a family member, an employee or a business associate. That uncanny sixth sense had gone into overdrive in the period leading up to Charlie’s accident, and with his son-in-law’s demise Henry had turned his attention to Stephen. He knew the two men had been good friends, and he was convinced that Stephen had information that he was keeping to himself. Stephen had caved in and given Henry the letter — after steaming it open and taking a quick peek first. When dealing with Henry it was advisable to at least keep up with the game, even if you couldn’t get ahead of it.

Horrified by what he read, Henry had ordered Stephen to destroy the letter immediately and say nothing to Joyce of its existence.

Joyce was wrong in her assumption that Stephen had informed Henry of their meeting. He hadn’t, any more than he had confessed to Henry that the letter still existed. Let alone that it had reached Joyce.

Having reached a stretch of dual carriageway, Stephen hit the accelerator. A whoosh of G force pressed him back into his seat as the high-powered coupe surged forward, passing a family saloon travelling at the regulation 70 mph as if it were stationary.