The Price of Retribution

Evie’s eyelids lifted slowly. Her eyes looked strangely pale, as if incessant crying had somehow washed away their normal colour.

She gave a little sigh. ‘Tarn—I knew you’d come. You’ve got to get me out of here. They won’t let me leave, even though I keep asking. They say if I want to get better, I have to forget Caz. Forget how much I loved him. Accept that it’s all over between us. But I can’t—I can’t.

‘They give me things—to help me relax, they say. To make me sleep, but I dream about him, Tarn. Dream that he’s still mine.’

Her fingers closed fiercely round Tarn’s. ‘I didn’t want to go on living without him. Couldn’t face another day with nothing left to hope for. You understand that, don’t you? You must, because you knew what he meant to me. How I built my future around him.’

Tarn said steadily, ‘I suppose so, but ending it all was never the answer, believe me.’ She paused. ‘Evie, you’re a very beautiful girl, and one day you’ll meet another man—someone good and decent who’ll appreciate you and genuinely want to spend his life with you.’

‘But I wanted Caz.’ Her grip on Tarn’s hand tightened almost unbearably. ‘I gave him everything. So how could he reject me like that? Not want me to love him any more?’

‘I don’t know.’ Tarn freed herself gently. ‘But we mustn’t talk about that now or you’ll get agitated and they’ll know. Which means I won’t be allowed to see you again.’

‘And you’re all I’ve got.’ Evie sank back against her pillows, her face white and pinched. ‘Because Caz is never going to come here, is he? I’ve been hoping and hoping, but it isn’t going to happen. I know that now.’

A slow tear ran down her cheek. ‘How could he do this to me? How can he just—walk away as if I didn’t matter?’

Tarn felt the anger rising inside her again, and curled her nails into the palms of her hands to regain her control.

‘But you do matter,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘And one day soon he’s going to find out just how much, and be sorrier than he’s ever imagined.’

She handed Evie a tissue from the box on the bedside table. ‘Now dry your eyes, and try to look as if my visit has done you some good. And next time I come we’ll talk seriously about how to deal with Mr Caz Brandon.’

That night over supper, she said, ‘So what did you think of Evie’s fiancé, Aunt Hazel? Did you ever feel that things weren’t quite right between them?’

Her foster mother put down her knife and fork and stared at her. ‘But I never met him,’ she said. ‘I knew only what Evie told me, and, of course, she absolutely worshipped him.’

‘Never met him?’ Tarn repeated slowly. ‘But how can that be? You mean she never brought him home?’

‘Well, she’d hardly be likely to,’ Mrs Griffiths said with a touch of defensiveness. ‘I mean—he lives in the lap of luxury, and this is such an ordinary little house. But they were planning to give an enormous party when their engagement was announced, and I was going to meet him then.’

‘I see,’ said Tarn, without any truth whatsoever. She hesitated. ‘And you were all right with this?’

‘As long as my girl was happy, I was too,’ said Mrs Griffiths with finality, and the subject was ostensibly dropped.

But it provided Tarn with food for thought during the remainder of the evening.

When Tarn returned to The Refuge a few days later, she was surprised to be accorded a wintry smile by the Professor.

‘I think you will find your sister has improved slightly. She is looking forward to seeing you again.’ He paused. ‘But you will have to remain her only visitor in the immediate future. Have you brought her any messages from anyone else? If so, may I know what they are?’

‘Her mother sends her love.’ Tarn lifted her chin. ‘I hope that’s acceptable.’

There was another slight hesitation before he said, ‘Perfectly,’ and buzzed for Nurse Farlow.

Evie, in a dressing gown, was sitting in the armchair by the window. Her newly washed hair was waving softly round her face, and her face had regained some colour.

‘Wow.’ Tarn bent and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You’ll be out of here in no time at this rate.’

‘I wish,’ Evie said with a sigh. ‘But there’s no chance. That’s been made perfectly clear to me. It’s what happens when you do crazy things. And all because of him.’ She punched her fist into the palm of her other hand. ‘That was the real madness—to believe even one word that he said. To trust him. I ought to have realised he was just using me.’

Her voice cracked. ‘Oh, God, he’s the one I should have tried to kill for what he’s done—not myself. You talked about making him sorry. That’s not enough. I want to make him wish he was dead.’

‘Well, maybe we can.’ Tarn took the chair opposite. ‘But stay calm, honey, because there are some things I need to know from you.’

Evie stared at her, biting her lip. ‘What kind of things?’

‘Stuff you might have told him. About your mother. About me.’

There was a silence, then Evie said, ‘I didn’t tell him anything. He never wanted to talk about family things.’

‘You didn’t find that—odd?’ Tarn spoke carefully.

‘It was the way he was.’ Evie shrugged. ‘I accepted it. Why do you ask?’

‘Because it helps if he doesn’t know I exist. When I meet him, he won’t be on his guard.’

‘You’re going to meet him?’ Evie was suddenly rigid, her colour fading. ‘No, you can’t. You mustn’t. You—you don’t know what he’s like.’

‘But that’s exactly what I’m going to find out,’ Tarn told her. ‘I need to know everything about him, because, in order to damage him, I have to discover his Achilles’ heel—and he will have one. Everyone does.’

She paused. ‘You’re sure you never mentioned me? Told him my name?’

‘No, never.’ Evie shook her head slowly. ‘Why would I?’ She gave a quick shiver. ‘All the same, keep away from him, Tarn. It—it’s not safe. He has powerful friends.’

‘I won’t take any unnecessary risks. The fact that he has no idea who I am gives me a head start.’ Tarn tried to sound reassuring, even if she was bewildered by Evie’s warning. Surely Caz Brandon was powerful enough on his own. ‘But if I’m to cause him the kind of pain he’s inflicted on you, I have to get close to him in some way. Find where the wound will be deepest.’

‘You imagine you can do that?’ Evie whispered. ‘Then perhaps you’re the crazy one. Not me.’

‘I can at least try,’ Tarn returned. She hesitated. ‘I’m not going to mention any of this to your mother. And you shouldn’t talk about it either, to anyone. It has to be our secret.

‘Also, I shall move out of Wilmont Road,’ she added. ‘Go to stay with a friend.’

‘You mean it, don’t you? You’re really going to do this.’ Evie shifted restively in her chair, her face taut, almost frightened. ‘Oh, I wish I’d never mentioned him.’ She added pettishly, ‘Now, I’m starting to get a headache. Perhaps it would be better if you left.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Tarn got to her feet, eying her with concern. She said gently, ‘Evie—this man has to be taught he can’t go through life trampling on people. What he did to you had almost fatal results, and I cannot forget that. You’re in no position to fight back, but I am.’

She tried a coaxing smile. ‘And you really don’t have to worry.’

‘You don’t think so?’ Evie hunched a shoulder and turned to stare blankly at the window. ‘That’s because you don’t know him.’ And she shivered again.

It was her hair that Caz recognised. Even though it was no longer cascading to her shoulders, but decorously confined in a neat braid, and tied with a navy bow which matched her neat pantsuit, there was no mistaking that glorious rich auburn.

He had never really expected to see her again, yet here she was just the same, entering the lift at the fifth floor, glancing at her Blackberry with a preoccupied frown, and apparently quite oblivious to everything else.

He said, ‘It’s Miss Desmond, isn’t it?’

She looked up with a start. ‘Oh,’ she said, and bit her lip. ‘It’s you.’ She paused. ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t realise who you were the other evening, Mr Brandon. I feel seriously embarrassed.’