Mine: The hot new thriller of 2018 - sinister, gripping and dark with a breathtaking twist. J.L. Butler

       Chapter 10

      I loitered in Hanover Square until Martin directed me to a waiting car. We didn’t speak much on the journey back to Spitalfields.

      ‘I didn’t drag you away too soon, did I?’ I said as we rode the lift to his apartment.

      ‘I just had to show my face. It’ll be over soon anyway.’

      ‘I need a drink,’ I replied, feeling tired and unsettled.

      ‘There’s a very nice Friday-night Chardonnay in the fridge that needs opening. We can take it up to the roof,’ he said, disappearing into the bedroom and returning with two sweaters.

      He threw one over to me.

      ‘There. You might want to put that on.’

      I pulled the sweater over my head, slowly, carefully, inhaling it and feeling heady with his smell. The sleeves fell over my hands and I felt as if I had been zipped inside him.

      When I looked up, he was holding a bottle of wine, two tumblers and a blanket. We went outside to the small decking area and up a thin spiral staircase that led to the highest point of the building. I spread the throw on the dusty asphalt and sat down. It was quiet up here. Black velvet sky surrounded us like a cloak. I could see chimney pots and distant lights from office blocks. I smiled to myself that there were people out there who worked harder than I did. I wanted to tell them to get a life.

      Martin sat cross-legged next to me, poured wine into the two glasses and handed me one.

      ‘I would have stayed longer but I saw someone from chambers,’ I said finally.

      ‘I don’t see why we have to keep sneaking around the shadows. Alex knows. Worked it out even before we went to Ottolenghi. Said I’d been whispering and giggling like a schoolboy in the office, which made me sound incredibly uncool. I don’t want to hide you away,’ he said with an intensity that made me shiver.

      ‘I don’t want to hide you away either,’ I replied. ‘That’s why I brought Clare – I wanted you to start meeting my friends. But you’re still my client and I’m applying for silk. I have to be careful.’

      He tipped his head back for a long slug of Chardonnay.

      ‘I just can’t wait for all this to be over.’

      ‘Over?’

      ‘The divorce.’

      The view was quite spectacular. I felt as if I was on top of the world, empowered, ennobled. Alex’s observation that Martin had been a wreck after the breakdown of his marriage suddenly seemed immaterial, replaced by a clear and romantic sense that everything was exactly as it should be.

      ‘Why aren’t you married?’

      I laughed but he just looked at me, waiting for an answer.

      ‘I’ve never been good at relationships.’

      ‘I’d say we’re doing pretty well so far.’

      I felt as if we were both stripped naked, as if I could tell him anything. I took a breath before I spoke again.

      ‘When I was nineteen I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Manic depression,’ I added, to clarify.

      ‘The scars on your arms … I never wanted to ask.’

      ‘Self-harm, not a suicide bid. They’re old,’ I said, rubbing my hand self-consciously. ‘Second year at university. It was a difficult time. I almost dropped out of college but I got through it, thanks to Clare, my tutors and good medication. It’s under control, but I find relationships difficult.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘It’s just easier to stay single.’

      ‘Is it?’

      I shrugged, fixing my gaze on a distant red neon sign.

      ‘I’ve always wanted to keep my life as uncomplicated as possible, control things as much as I can. When you’ve had quite literal ups and downs, you just want things to be predictable.’

      ‘Everyone needs someone, Fran. Deserves someone.’

      ‘But letting people in brings problems. We find it difficult enough to control our own emotions, let alone other people’s. I like you, you like me, but what happens when Donna wants to talk again or says she wants to give your marriage another go?’ I said, thinking back to the night when he went to meet her, when I called him up, longing to hear his voice and his reassurance, and was met with nothing but a cold and sterile recorded message.

      ‘That’s not going to happen,’ he said finally.

      ‘It might.’

      ‘Come here,’ he murmured, inching towards me on the roof. He pulled me close then shifted his position so that he was facing me. He stroked my hair and held my head between his hands.

      ‘We just have to hang in there and soon, really soon, it’s going to be this. Just us. No Donna, no sneaking around, just me and you.’

      ‘Do you promise?’ I wanted to stay up here, almost touching the clouds, forever.

      ‘I promise,’ he whispered, and I shivered as he kissed me, knowing how completely I had fallen for him and how much that could damage me.