The Duke's Affair

XVIII

Lauren lay in the dingy sitting room in Alexis' lower ground floor flat feeling the lumps of the ancient sofa beneath her back, one hand pressed to her forehead. She had thrown up several times and it turned out, according the the doctor she had seen at the Chelsea and Westminster, that she had a mild concussion.

"You can take my bed, I don't mind," said Alexis, lingering in the doorway.

"Really, I'm fine here," said Lauren, tracing the stitches on the back of her scalp with one finger, wincing as she touched them.

"How are you feeling?" Alexis crossed the room and stared down at her.

Lauren groaned in response and flickered her eyes open. "Thanks for letting me stay," she said.

Alexis sat on the end of the sofa, pushing Lauren's legs out of the way. "I did warn you about the escorts. And about him in particular. The Watcher."

Lauren struggled to sit up. "I know." She rolled her eyes. "But what's the point now? I'm not going back there and what's done is done."

Alexis pursed her lips and stood up. "It's nearly Christmas. Were you planning on going home?"

For a moment Lauren felt nothing but confusion. Christmas? How could it be nearly Christmas already? "I suppose so. It's not as if I have anywhere else to go."

Alexis nodded, awkwardly. She'd already told Lauren that she and her sister were going back to Birmingham for a family Christmas, and it was obviously an invitation that she felt she couldn't extend. "No one will be here. You can stay over Christmas, if you want to?"

Lauren pushed her legs off the sofa and reached out for the glass of water on the coffee table, taking a slow sip before responding. "Thanks, but I should see my parents."

"Can someone pick you up? I wouldn't want you to be struggling on public transport like this," said Alexis, waving her hand up and down Lauren's body.

Lauren rolled her shoulders and looked away. "There'll be someone I can ask."

"I would drive you myself, but it's my sister's car and Essex isn't really in the right direction for Birmingham."

"Honestly, don't worry about it. I'll make a few calls," said Lauren, smiling up at her friend in a way she knew would make her look pathetic, but there seemed no other way to play it.

*

Henry pressed the tip of a biro to a blank piece of paper and twirled it round and round, making pointless patterns on the empty sheet. In a couple of days he would shut the office over Christmas, but there was still the office party to attend on Wednesday. He dropped the pen and let it roll over his desk just as his phone began to vibrate.

"Hello?"

"It's John. Just a quick question -"

"Go ahead," said Henry, biting his bottom lip.

"The girl in the photos, are you interested in having surveillance on her?"

Lauren. Just the thought of her made him feel like someone had scooped out his insides and replaced them with a viscous black liquid. What would she think if she found out he was having her watched? Did it even matter now? He couldn't see her, so someone else might as well tell him what she was up to. "Yes."

"I'll get someone on it."

Henry kicked the carpet with the heel of his shoe. "Do you have anything on the other girl?"

He heard John clear his throat. "She's clean. Squeaky clean. Never put a foot wrong in her life. In fact," he said, coughing, "I would go so far as to say that this behaviour is pretty out of character."