Bella
If you’re sure you’re okay?
Paige
Absolutely!
Please could they just stop talking about her being okay? But then a thought struck. Maybe Bella was asking because something was up her end and she was trying to establish an in to that conversation.
Paige
Are *you* okay?
The dots danced for a long time. Bella was either writing a long message, correcting her spelling errors or writing and deleting a lot. Was she okay? Paige breathed a sigh of relief when her message popped up.
Bella
I’m good. I’ve finally set up that interview for the day after tomorrow.
Bella’s idea to instigate a scathing newspaper article – a real hatchet job – about Astrid’s ex was utterly brilliant and Paige had hooked Bella up with a client who owned a trendy bar in New York as a possible venue.
Bella
And that will be the beginning of Chase’s downfall.
Chase’s downfall. Well that certainly sounded gleeful enough.Ugh. Guilt sliced through her middle like a hot knife. Bella was doing what she was supposed to be doing – getting even for Astrid. And here she was, supposedly getting some payback for Bella, not playing kissy-kissy with Oliver. Her fingers trembled a little as she tapped out her response.
Paige
Go Bella!! Astrid will be THRILLED.
And because shame was riding her hardandshe was a big chicken, Paige didn’t give Bella a chance to respond. She went straight back in again.
Paige
Oh God, sorry, gotta run. Oliver is threatening to make Pavarotti sleep in the garage. Talk soon xxx
Then she shut down the app and slugged back the rest of the wine. She might be able to make excuses to justify what had happened but ultimately, she’d betrayed Bella –her friend– and that sat like a cold, wet, rotting fish in her gut.
Needing to get out of her head, lest she open a second bottle of wine to drown her sorrows this time, Paige scrolled her phone until she found a song to get lost in. ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia’ leaped out at her and she smiled.
Yep, that would do it.
Ignoring the fact that Cornwall could be easily substituted for Georgia, she hit play and turned it up as she grabbed her violin. She’d learned all the fiddle sections years ago and it used to be her party trick when she was tipsy enough to get the crowd really pumping.
She was alone right now but she was certainly tipsy enough. And the intricate finger work would take her mind offotherthings.
Tapping her foot and singing raucously along, she watched her reflection in the glass doors to the patio as she played her violin during the fiddle parts, leaning into it with as much flair as a bottle of wine could give her, remembering the bow strokes and the notes as if she’d learned them only yesterday. It was an energetic song and, by the time it was drawing to a close she was slightly out of breath.
The song finished with a flourish, as did she, performing a bow to the room and then laughing at her theatrics.
The next song started to play and, conscious of not annoying the neighbours, Paige quickly turned it down. Crossing the room to return the violin to its case, she was pulled up short when the handle on the door that led from the garage into the hallway rattled.
Paige froze as she peered into the darkened recesses. There were no lights on down that end but she was sure it had rattled.
It rattled again.
Her pulse spiked on a hot surge of adrenaline. Was someone in the garage? Trying to get into the house? There were a lot of expensive things that would satisfy a would-be thief – like an Oscar for example.
