‘And it didn’t?’ said Stella softly.
Tom shook his head.
‘They tracked me down. The interest had quadrupled. They invented all sorts of other money that I owed them. Damage to the building etcetera. The bottom line? A ninety thousand debt became almost a quarter of a million quid.’
‘Shit,’ whispered Stella.
‘When they had me beaten up, when I was in hospital, I knew I was in real trouble. I told my mother and she found the money to pay them off.’
‘How?’
He looked away, his face full of guilt, shame and sadness.
‘It was every penny she had, every ounce of credit she could raise. It was money she wanted for a lease on a new gallery. I didn’t want to take it but I had to. Otherwise I’d have been dead.’
He made a strange guttural choking noise and Stella realized he was beginning to cry.
She pulled him close to her and stroked the top of his head with her fingertips.
‘Ssh,’ she whispered. It’s all over now. Everything is going to be all right.’
62
‘Arrested Emma! That’s impossible. What the hell do they have on her?’
Virginia listened to Emma’s solicitor before she put down the phone trembling.
She sank into the nearest chair and looked at Jonathon standing by the living-room door. ‘Emma’s been arrested in connection with the Stables’ fire.’
‘Surely not,’ replied her husband. His expression clouded over before he spoke again. ‘What’s that going to do to the company? How’s it going to look? That luxury goods company won’t be so interested in Milford if we’re tarnished.’
‘We’d better phone Roger,’ said Virginia, her face pale. ‘And then I have to see Emma.’
‘Arrested? Emma?’ Rob felt a swell of nausea on speaking to Richard Harrod, Emma’s solicitor.
‘They think it’s arson and that she’s responsible. They could go for attempted murder as well.’
‘Do you think they will charge her?’ asked Rob, horrified.
Richard Harrod cleared his throat.
‘It’s possible. Finding Emma’s shawl covered in petrol wasn’t exactly good news. Arson with intent to endanger life is a very serious charge.’
‘There are a dozen reasons why her shawl had petrol on it! All sorts of farm vehicles drive through the estate; maybe there was diesel fuel on a tyre that ran over it.’ He was losing his temper and his faith in the solicitor; he intended to bring someone in from London as soon as he got off the telephone.
He paced around the room, raking his fingers through his hair.
All he could think about was her conviction on the journey home from Gstaad that someone wanted to harm her. She was suspicious and desperate to work it all out with her fierce, clever mind, but she could do nothing now.
He made a few phone calls until he had found Cassandra Grand’s home and mobile number and tried them both.
Arrested, wept Emma as she was led down to a cell after eight hours of questioning. Consumed by a sense of unreality, her head pounded, her throat was dry with panic. Her whole life seemed to be collapsing around her. How could ever
ything have gone so utterly, hideously wrong. She had done nothing. Had they not checked with the Swiss police? The police seemed to be assuming that because Cassandra had almost died in the fire, she had been the intended victim. But it was Emma’s house. She should have been sleeping there.
63
Cassandra felt her luck was finally beginning to change when Rob Holland phoned her to suggest dinner. She secured a table at Petrus and chose to wear a scarlet Donna Karan jersey dress that didn’t restrict movement around her chest which was still incredibly sore from her cracked rib. Her face was perfectly made-up to enhance her natural beauty: a sweep of blusher swept across her cheeks, mascara widened her eyes and a peach gloss made her plump lips look even more luscious. She was still limping, but took painkillers so she could squeeze her feet into a pair of heels. She headed off with almost a spring in her step.