Distraction

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Zoe lit her second cigarette off her first and downed the rest of her buck's fizz. One hour of peace, then Jonathon and his family would return from their annual family walk to the next village for mulled wine and mince pies at his brother's house. Zoe opted to stay at the house, citing cooking reasons. Really, she wanted some time away from his bloody family.

Eliot, the eldest son, and his drippy wife, Paula, clearly despised her, and their two feral kids, Harriet and Joshua, had no concept of the word no. Twice Zoe found six year-old Harriet rummaging in her handbag, the last time pulling out cigarettes, tampons and using her favourite Chanel lipstick to draw a picture of Granddad. But they were nothing compared to Ed.

Ed she wanted to strangle.

Or screw.

He was a bleeding heart liberal who earned peanuts writing for some environmental magazine, but his empathy for the world didn't appear to extend to Zoe. The evening before, when she'd excused herself to get ready for the Mill party, Ed had poured her another glass of champagne, his cold eyes glaring into hers.

'But surely someone like you,' he'd said, 'only needs to throw on an old rag, a little lipstick and the latest diamonds my dad bought you.'

He was an obnoxious little bugger. She flicked her cigarette end into the bushes. Sadly, he was an obnoxious little bugger who took after his father. He was Jonathon twenty-five years ago and Zoe couldn't help thinking, what if she'd met Ed first?

'Naughty, naughty.' Ed stood leaning against the kitchen door, his hands in his pockets, his dark hair contrasting fabulously with his Arran jumper. 'Daddy will find out.'

'Back from the walk already.' She flashed her sweetest smile, refusing to let him wind her up.

'I didn't go. I said I'd help my wonderful step-mother-to-be in the kitchen.'

She stalked past him, hating that his aftershave made her want to tie him to a four-poster bed. 'Like I need your help.'

'Dad thought it was a very nice gesture.'

'Bite me.'

He looked her over, as though he were contemplating just that. 'Oh come on, I just want to talk.'

'About what?' She opened the fridge, needing the cold air to cool her flushing cheeks, and took out the champagne.

'I'll have one.' He sauntered over, leaning against the island. 'Coincidences.'

Zoe raised her eyebrows as she refilled her own glass and one for him.

'A few months ago, I came home for the weekend. Mum had this amazing skunk. I know she used to score it off your aunt-'

'Great aunt.'

'Your great aunt, but Maggie was dead, so who was the new dealer, I asked. Your father's latest whore, she replied.'

Zoe smiled over her glass. 'I considered it a good deed. Your mum had needs and your dad had needs. I like to help.'

'Oh, come on, you're shagging him for the money.'

'I'm shagging him, because he's an amazing man.'

Ed stepped closer, invading her space. 'Is it a coincidence that the whore who supplied my mother with skunk happens to live next door to the vet's where the ketamine that killed her was stolen from?'

Zoe didn't back off. 'Yes. Yes, it's a massive bloody coincidence. Is this how you want to spend Christmas, accusing me of supplying the ket?'

'Did you supply the ket?'