‘Bravado, Jenna, hot air. Stop lashing out and think. Use your brain, instead of what’s between your legs. You were obviously hot for loser boy, but it would never have worked out, now, would it? Be sensible.’
‘He’s worth a million of you. And I bet he’s better in bed.’
‘Well, shall we find out?’
‘I’d kill myself, first.’
‘No you wouldn’t. Come on. You and Watson – it’s just a mismatch. You and me, though, we understand the finer things in life. We could work so well. And it would mean that you could keep this place. You could do what you liked to it, carry on with all the plans you had. I wouldn’t mind, even though you’ve cut the heart and soul out of my kitchen.’
‘But you aren’t going to get this place back. I’ve no idea why you think that.’ Jenna shook her head at him, all the time trying to make calculations as to her best chances of getting away.
‘Come on, Jen. Bledburn hasn’t worked out for you. You’re up on a charge of perverting the course of justice – you’ll get a hefty fine at the very least, prison time at worst. Just cut your losses and sell up. I can afford to buy it back now.’
Jenna was too furious to speak for a minute, then she managed to grind out, ‘With dirty money, yes.’
‘No comment, as I’m sure your lawyer advised you to say at your interview. You wouldn’t want to be here any more. Have you seen the press setting up camp outside? You’re going to be a virtual prisoner, anyway. Come with me to an hotel and we’ll sort out the conveyancing tomorrow.’
‘What’s the hurry?’
‘What’s the sense in hanging around? Sell up and live with me here or fuck off to London. I don’t really care.’
‘I suspect my bail conditions will involve staying in Bledburn, actually.’
He shrugged.
‘Whatever. It’s your move. Literally.’
‘I’m staying here. And I’m not selling, you can get lost now.’
He took a step closer and, yes, she could get the knife out of her pocket now. She clicked up the blade and brandished it.
He laughed.
‘Not a smart move, Jenna. Threatening behaviour with an offensive weapon on top of your existing charges? My, my, they’re going to throw the book at you, aren’t they?’
‘I’ll throw this at you if you don’t just fuck off,’ she said with desperate clarity.
Lawrence lunged and she was about to jab the blade at his face when they were distracted by an almighty noise and rushing wind through the window.
‘God, a helicopter,’ she breathed.
‘Some press outfit or other,’ said Lawrence. ‘I bet you’re on News 24. Aerial shots of this place all over Sky. You should turn it on and see.’
‘I don’t have a TV.’
‘On your phone then?’
‘You just want to be a star, don’t you, Lawrence,’ she said with pitying sarcasm. ‘Is that what this is all about? You don’t have any talents of your own so you’ve decided you’ll get a bit of fame by association with me?’
He was at the window now, looking out at the hovering copter. He seemed to have forgotten that Jenna had a knife, but he soon remembered when she came up behind him and put its tip to the side of his neck.
‘Get. Out,’ she said softly. ‘Just turn around and walk out of that door, to the front door, then out of the front gate. You’ll get your picture taken, and you’ll like that, won’t you? Your fatuous, grinning mug all over the front pages tomorrow. Except it won’t be – it’ll by my face, and Jason’s, because you are completely irrelevant.’
‘Put down the knife,’ he said, his voice wobbly with fear.
‘I could up the ante,’ she said, pushing it that tiny bit further, just enough pressure to make him think his skin would puncture at any minute. ‘I could say I won’t put it down until you call the police and make a confession.’
‘I have nothing to confess,’ he said levelly. ‘Whatever you’ve come up with about me is false. You’ve jumped to conclusions, because you don’t like me, and Watson hates me.’