Chapter 40
ELLIE
Tim had a bowl of cereal in his hand when he answered the front door.
Ellie could just about imagine how it looked to him, to discover a tall, shaven-headed burly man standing rigid alongside a nervous-looking Ellie. Two black Range Rovers with tinted windows were parked on the kerb outside Tim’s modest semi-detached home. She didn’t know if he could make out the shapes of people in both of them.
‘Hi,’ Tim mumbled, and swallowed his mouthful of breakfast. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and a yellow tie hung loosely around his neck. He looked taken aback by her sudden appearance, probably wondering how she’d gotten his address.
‘Hello,’ Ellie said. ‘I’m sorry to turn up unannounced. Do you have a few minutes before you go to work?’
‘I’ve been trying to talk to you for the last few days but you’ve been ignoring me.’
‘I know, and I’m sorry. That’s why I’m here to explain. Please?’
Tim moved to one side. Andrei was the first to enter. He removed his dark glasses and scanned the entrance hall and various rooms before he let Ellie follow. Tim frowned at the man-mountain, then at his DNA Match.
‘He’s my security detail,’ she offered, almost apologetically.
‘In that case I should make you aware of the family of ninjas living in the dining room and the barrels of mustard gas I’ve been cooking up in the conservatory.’
An unamused Andrei shot him a disapproving glance.
Ellie had taken four days to muster the courage to approach Tim after the events of their second date had culminated in red paint being hurled at them. She’d bunkered down in her London townhouse since and remained there, embarrassed and deeply humiliated.
Had Tim been just a run-of-the-mill date, she’d have made sure to never see him again. However, he was far from ordinary. Besides, she liked spending time getting to know him and the kiss they shared shortly before the attack was nothing short of wonderful.
Ellie was accustomed to public speaking, and thousands of people had attended some of her keynote speeches around the world. But, try as she might, as she had in her many rehearsals in front of the bathroom mirror, she still didn’t know how to begin to explain to Tim what had happened.
‘Can I offer you or your pet giant a coffee?’ Tim asked, eyeballing Andrei.
‘That’s what I call him.’ Ellie laughed, trying to lighten the mood. ‘Andrei the Giant. You know, like the famous French wrestler? He was in The Princess Bride? It’s one of my all-time favourite films …’
Tim shook his head and made his way into the lounge, muting the sound of breakfast television presenters with the remote control. He put his bowl down on the coffee table and invited Ellie to sit.
‘So what happened the other night?’ he asked. ‘Why did a complete stranger throw red paint at us and yell that you have blood on your hands?’
‘Because that’s what many people think,’ she replied. ‘You’ve probably guessed by now that I haven’t been completely honest with you about who I am or what I do for a living.’
‘Uhuh.’
‘The surname I used on my DNA profile is my mum’s maiden name, Ayling. My actual surname is Stanford and I don’t work as a personal assistant to a CEO. I actually work for myself. And what I do is a little … controversial.’
‘What, are you an arms dealer or something?’
‘No, no,’ she said. ‘Nothing like that.’ Ellie paused and took a deep breath. ‘Tim, I am the scientist who discovered the Match Your DNA gene, and a lot of people hate me for it.’
Chapter 41
MANDY
Many family birthdays, anniversaries, girls’ nights out, work leaving parties, meals out and get-togethers passed and Mandy declined them all.
Each time an invitation came, she mustered up an excuse as to why she was unable to attend, often citing that she had plans with Richard some one hundred miles away. She was telling the truth, at least in part, as she was choosing to spend more and more of her time with his family rather than her own.
From the tone of their voicemail messages, she guessed that her mother and sisters were finding it increasingly frustrating. They had once been a tight-knit unit, brought on by the death of their father more than a decade ago, but now Mandy was trying to pull away and the rest couldn’t understand why. Of course, they thought that she had found her Match and expected her to be at her most open, but Mandy just couldn’t tell them. Not yet.
Spending time with them didn’t nourish her in the same way spending time with Pat and Chloe did. She felt more and more alienated from her family; two of her sisters were in the midst of the love and happiness that Mandy could never have, and she doubted they’d be able to understand what she was going through. And her mother, though she too had lost the love of her life, was too old-fashioned to truly understand how strong a Match bond could be, and what it’s like when it’s taken away. Richard’s family filled the void.
‘If you want to have a few drinks, then why don’t you stay over?’ Pat had texted the evening before. So with a packed overnight bag, she spent the evening with them watching DVDs, drinking wine and leafing through an album of Richard’s baby photos.
Not for the first time, she wondered what their baby might have looked like.
When they finally retired to bed, Mandy found herself wide awake in the guest room, unable to sleep. She closed her eyes and, as she did most nights, she pictured a future they’d never have. She imagined walking through her parents’ front door on Christmas Day arm in arm, and how he’d be the centre of her family’s attention. Her fingers clenched the duvet and she squeezed it hard in frustration.
On her way back from the bathroom, Mandy spied Richard’s bedroom door slightly ajar. Hesitantly, she opened it, but the room was empty. She entered, quietly closing the door behind her, and turned on a lamp.
Curiosity got the better of her and she slid open the drawer of his bedside cabinet and peeked inside. There were toiletries such as moisturisers, hair products and deodorants, along with an open pack of ten condoms. She flipped the lid and counted – just four remaining. She immediately wondered who’d been the lucky girl – or girls – with whom he’d used the missing ones. The thought made her heart sink.
She was envious of a woman she couldn’t even put a face to. She looked under his bed and found his threadbare army-green backpack from his travelling days. The torn airline and coach labels were still attached, but there was nothing inside. She removed occasional pieces of clothing from his chest of drawers to press against her skin or to run her fingertips across and inhale; each one made her nerve endings tingle.
Then, in the bottom drawer, tucked way at the back, she found a scuffed mobile phone, several models out of date. Mandy turned it on, assuming the battery would be dead, but there were two bars of power left and it was so old it required no pass code.
She was aware that she was invading Richard’s privacy but she didn’t care, her thirst for more knowledge about him was unquenchable. The more she learned, the more she needed to know.
Most of his old text messages were from personal training clients or friends organising nights out. They revealed very little about him, other than he had a wide circle of friends and grateful clients.
However, his photos were dominated by images of one person in particular: a young woman, in various states of undress. She was nearer to Richard’s age than Mandy’s and was far prettier, she thought. Mandy fought away the pangs of jealousy. She frowned, wondering who the girl was, and continued to flick through his pictures quickly, hoping the photos of this girl would cease.