‘That would be so kind of you. And…a glass of water?’
‘I’ll ask Ramani.’
I flexed my wrists and pushed myself up to my feet while Ed nipped to the kitchen. A run for it was still precluded by my cuffed ankles, but at least I might be able to fight Keane off for a few seconds when he came back to claim his revenge. I looked around me for signs of a phone or other communications device I could use to get help, but there was nothing. My best option was still to scream for Ramani’s help, making it clear that nothing that Keane did to me was consensual. But even then she would probably be afraid to confront him. Knowing him, she was probably an illegal immigrant kept as slave labour.
Ed returned with the water before I could make further escape plans.
‘So you’ll be OK to hold me down while Keane tortures me, will you?’ I said conversationally, accepting the glass.
‘Ella…’
‘You’ve just said the truth will come out anyway. Are you really happy to see me beaten and abused just so you can hold on to your job a little bit longer?’
‘Of course I’m…’
He broke off as Keane reappeared with a face like thunder.
‘Another nightmare I owe you,’ he growled at me, then he turned to Ed. ‘Did you uncuff her?’
‘She needed water,’ he said. ‘It was only for a minute.’
‘Put the cuffs back on,’ he roared. The echo of it was still ringing around the room when another kind of ringing joined it. The doorbell.
‘That’ll be Maria,’ said Keane, looking around in agitation. ‘Where are we going to put this little bitch?’
He manhandled my newly recuffed body behind the sofa, took off his tie and stuffed it in my mouth.
‘Make one sound and it’ll be the last thing you do,’ he threatened. ‘Ed, we’ll have to keep her out of here. Talk to her in the front room.’ He raised his voice. ‘Ramani! Door!’
But it seemed Ramani had already seen to it, because the next voice I heard was Maria’s.
‘Well, well, Judd. What a tangle we find ourselves in this morning.’
She was in the hallway, mere feet away from me, if I could only try to attract her attention. But the wall stood between us, and the loudest sound I could make with Keane’s tie in my mouth would scarcely travel to the other side of the sofa.
‘Not too bad,’ he countered. ‘I’ve spoken to Rob. He thinks he can get them to drop it.’
‘I still haven’t forgiven you,’ she said icily, ‘for brawling on my lawn.’
‘Come on, it was hardly my fault…if that little bitch hadn’t brought Tom Crowley to the door…Really, it’s me that should be blaming you.’
‘Oh? And how do you work that out?’
‘Your vetting skills have gone down the pan. Inv
iting journalists to your house, for fuck’s sake.’
‘Have my skills failed me?’ asked Maria musingly. ‘Or might I perhaps have known all along?’
‘Might you…what?’ Keane laughed incredulously.
‘I’ve known Crowley was a journalist all along,’ she said breezily. I stiffened all over. What the hell was this about now? ‘I’ve seen his byline in the Clarion. I never forget a pretty face. And I knew what he was looking for. Haydon and I have spoken about it before now, haven’t we, darling?’
Ed cleared his throat, but didn’t reply.
‘Then…why…?’ Keane’s usually deep voice rose to a near-falsetto.
‘Let me be honest, Judd, darling.’ She lowered her tone confidentially. ‘I absolutely detest you. I’ve seen the mess you make of some of the loveliest submissives. I’ve seen you bully and demean them, and then cast them aside. I think you’re the wrong kind of person for our scene, Judd, and I want you out of it.’