‘Don’t be silly,’ she protested.
‘Rach, I don’t like you going off alone. Not after what happened to Ross.’
Rachel grinned to herself. She usually hated other people bossing her around, but she couldn’t help admit there was something flattering about Liam’s concern.
‘So you want to be my white knight, do you?’ She knew she was flirting, but what the hell.
‘I’ll meet you at St John’s Wood station in twenty minutes,’ he said gruffly, and hung up.
Marjorie Case-Jones, the society beauty who had given Susie McCormack her card, had been understandably jumpy on the phone when Rachel had called her, but the name Julian Denver had opened doors. Literally.
The Case-Jones residence was an impressive detached house on one of the area’s prime residential streets. The iron gate swung open as they announced themselves. ‘Mrs Case-Jones? I’m Rachel Miller, we spoke earlier. This is my friend Liam Giles.’
The woman seemed to soften when she saw Liam. Not for the first time, Rachel realised the power of a good-looking man at your side.
‘Come through,’ she said quietly.
/> The kitchen was situated at the back of the house. It was an impressive space with double-height ceilings and glass and marble at every turn. Certainly no cooking was ever done here; it was spotless, and the ridiculously over-the-top appliances – a chrome coffee machine built to serve a thousand people a day, a matt-black range with at least ten industrial burners – were there for aesthetic effect, not practical reasons.
‘Do sit,’ said Marjorie, indicating a row of ironically distressed fifties bar stools. She herself took a seat on the other side of the breakfast bar.
Rachel could see that Susie McCormack had been right: there were striking similarities between Marjorie and Diana. Marjorie had vivid chestnut hair as opposed to Diana’s dark elegant locks, but both shared exquisite pale, delicate features.
There was an open bottle of wine and two glasses on the counter – Rachel noted that the bottle was a little over half empty already. Dutch courage? Or was this standard operating procedure for rich housewives at three in the afternoon?
‘It was quite a shock to hear Julian’s name when you called,’ she began. ‘I mean, obviously I’d read all about it – terrible to think of him like that – but I didn’t expect to get a telephone call, not after so long.’
‘When was the last time you saw him?’
‘Oh, I saw him on and off quite regularly,’ said Marjorie. ‘It’s the nature of the circles we move in, a very small world. My husband gets invited to the same parties, which can be a little awkward. It’s not easy keeping up pretences.’
‘What does your husband do?’
‘He’s in business. Nothing you have probably ever heard of, but successful all the same.’
Rachel glanced around the room and had to agree with her.
‘I couldn’t believe it about Jules,’ Marjorie said slowly. ‘We see our husbands go off to work each day, we have no idea what they really do, how much pressure they are under. How well do we know the people we love? you might ask yourself. My husband certainly knows very little about my life. Regarding some aspects, I’d like to keep it that way.’
Rachel understood what she was implying. ‘Mrs Case-Jones, I assure you I’m not here to embarrass you or make your relationship with Julian public. Nothing you tell me will ever leave this room, I promise.’
‘You promise?’ laughed Marjorie. ‘Oh, you’re good. I know what you did, Rachel, I know the whole story. Do you really think we didn’t discuss every last detail about Julian’s newspaper disgrace at every dinner party for about six months? The girl who betrayed her sister says “I promise”? Ha!’
Rachel noticed too late how Marjorie was slurring some of her words and how her left eye was drooping slightly. Clearly this half-finished bottle was not her first.
‘So if you don’t trust me and you have no love for Diana, why are you speaking to me?’
‘Because I loved him,’ she said simply. ‘And I can’t help but think that if I’d pushed him a bit more to do the right thing, he might be alive today.’
‘Do the right thing?’ asked Liam cautiously.
‘We talked about running away together. We both knew we could make each other happy. If you love someone you should be with them, simple as that. You shouldn’t let golden handcuffs get in your way.’
‘He wouldn’t divorce Diana?’ said Rachel.
Marjorie shook her head violently. ‘No. It wasn’t going to happen.’
‘How long did your relationship go on for?’