The Moore I See (The Moore Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  He blushes and pushes his glasses further back onto his nose. His eyes wander around the Victorian cemetery at the small crowd that has started to disperse, some sheltering themselves from the rain under one of the many trees. “Did anyone from her family turn up?”

  I wasn’t aware of any other relatives other than her mother, who I had tried to locate when I arrived. It was an impossible task given the minimal amount of information Lauren had provided me with. The woman deserves to know her daughter has passed away, regardless of the problems between them and I know I have to keep trying to find her. “I couldn’t get hold of anyone,” I say. I don’t know how much Lauren told him about herself so I keep information to the bare minimum.

  “I won’t keep you any longer, Amy. I’m sure you’re drained. If you need anything else, I live at number 54 on the same road as Lauren’s flat. It was nice meeting you. I can see why she talked so fondly of you.”

  “Thank you, it was nice meeting you too.”

  “Can I walk you to your car? You’re going to get soaked.”

  The rain really is coming down hard now and it would be stupid to refuse his thoughtful gesture. “Um... yes, thank you. It’s just outside the gates.”

  He flashes me a smile and we head off across the cemetery lawn, towards the gates.

  It doesn’t take long to get to my rented grey Vauxhall Corsa. The breeze has turned into gusts of wind blowing the rain in all directions, spraying even more water onto my black dress. I open the car door and jump inside. “Thank you again, David. I’ll see you around maybe.”

  “Goodbye Amy.”

  I watch him jog down the street, struggling to hold his umbrella. A feeling of guilt comes over me for judging him by appearance. Lauren had obviously thought him a nice person.

  I lean back against my seat listening to the heavy patter of the raindrops on the car roof and rub my eyes. It’s been a long day and the lack of sleep and rest of the last few of weeks are starting to take their toll on me. I want to submerge myself in a hot relaxing bath, then go to bed and hibernate for at least twenty-four hours.

  My phone begins to ring and I rummage through my bag. When I eventually locate it and check the screen I smile to see it’s Matt, my best friend and colleague from New York. Matt always cheers me up. His silly immaturity like a thirteen-year-old inside the body of a thirty-four-year-old is annoying at times, but mostly, it has me in fits of laughter. “Hi gorgeous” I say, as cheerfully as I can.

  “Hi beautiful.”

  I catch the reflection of my swollen, puffy eyes in the rear-view mirror. “You wouldn’t say that if you could see me. Funerals don't exactly do much for me.”

  “That bad, eh?”

  “No, I’m okay really. The worst is over, it’s just a lot to take in.”

  “I should have gone with you, but it’s not too late, I can be there in eight hours. You shouldn't have to do this on your own.”

  I hesitate because there is nothing I’d like more than to have his company at the moment, and I’m tempted to say, “Yes, get your arse over here,” but I don’t. “I wasn’t on my own, my parents were here, and they’ve just left to go back to Brighton. Anyway, you can't just up and leave, it’s bad enough I’ve taken two months off, if you suddenly take a holiday too, John will have kittens.”

  “Having kittens is a nice way of putting it,” he chuckles. “He’d get over it though. I haven't taken a decent vacation in two years and he owes me. Plus, I’ve just finished that huge campaign I was working on,” he adds, “and it earned the company enough money to feed a small third world country for a few months.”

  My heart melts. Matt is such a good friend but I can’t ask him to just drop everything and fly halfway across the world because of me. “I’m fine Matt, really. Don't worry about me.”

  “Sure you are,” he says, sarcasm oozing from his voice. He knows me far too well and there’s not much I can hide from him, even over the phone. “So, what's next on the agenda? What else do you need to do?”

  “Well, I have the big task in hand of going through the apartment. I’m avoiding that for as long as possible and it will take me a while. I’ll go and pick up her belongings from her workplace first so I can add them to the rest of her things. I’ll probably go there tomorrow.” Yes, I would do absolutely everything I could before tackling the flat, and have been putting it off for as long as possible. The thought of walking into her house and seeing all of her possessions, not to mention seeing the bedroom where she died, it’s all too much.

  I hear him draw in a breath. “Okay, but take it easy. You’d better be eating and sleeping properly. I don't want to be called because you've collapsed from stress or exhaustion”

  “I will, I promise.”

  “Right then, I’ll let you get on with it. Call me if you need anything, and I mean anything, Amy. You know I’m here for you.”

  “I know you are, and I’ll be fine, please don’t worry.”

  “Take care of yourself,” he says, and hangs up.

  Immediately, I wish I had asked him to come to London. I try to pretend I am strong and capable of handling this on my own, but on the inside, I feel I’m falling apart. I sit back and rub my hands over my face, stopping the tears from falling again. I compose myself as best I can and drive off to the hotel.

  The bed and breakfast is a small, family-run business, cosy and comfortable. The couple who own it make me feel like family, which is exactly what I need. I left London two years ago to work in New York and my parents moved to Brighton soon after, so it’s strange to be back, like I don’t belong anywhere.

  When I arrive, Emma, the couple’s daughter, is dusting the reception area with her back to the door, her long blonde ponytail bobbing up and down as she wipes the reception counter that occupies a large part of the space. She’s humming away to R.E.M.’s “Losing My Religion” playing on the radio. The soft, cream carpet beneath my feet silences my footsteps, so she doesn’t hear me walk in.

  “Hi Emma,” I say.

  She spins around, her cheeks flushed from the exertion. “Oh, hi Amy. How are you doing?” Her big blue eyes reflect concern as she looks at me.

  “I’m okay, just really tired and wet. I need a good long rest and then I’ll be fine.” I give her a feeble smile.

  “Can I get you anything? Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?”

  Emma really is a sweet girl. She looks about my age or slightly younger, perhaps late twenties. In the two weeks I’ve been here we’ve got to know each other quite well. I stay with her in reception nearly every night and we just chat. Apart from my parents, I’ve really had no one to talk to, so Emma has been a good friend. “No, thank you, I’m good. I think I’ll just go on up to my room. Don’t panic if you don’t hear from me, I’ll probably be out cold for a long time.”

  She folds her arms and smiles at me with a look of sympathy. It’s a look I’ve got used to in the last few of weeks. “Don’t worry its dead here...” She freezes suddenly and cringes. “Oops sorry, wrong choice of words.” Her flushed cheeks grow even redder. “What I meant to say was, there's no one around so you shouldn’t be disturbed.”

  “I know what you meant.” I give her a warm smile and turn to head for my room.

  “Have a good rest Amy, you certainly deserve it. If you need anything just ring reception.”

  “Thanks Emma. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I leave her fluffing the pillows on the two vintage armchairs and head upstairs.

  My modest bedroom’s only contents are a double bed with a small dressing table at its side, a wardrobe, and an armchair in the corner. I close the door, dump my bag, and head straight for the bathroom. It’s a little cramped inside, the bath takes up most of the space, and there is little room for everything else. I have to manoeuvre myself so I don’t bump into anything while I undress. I turn on both the hot and cold taps and let the bath fill.

  I assess the damage in the mirror. My tired green eyes are dull and lacking their usual vitality and the dark circles under them stand out against my pale skin.

  I throw my clothes onto the bathroom floor, tie my long hair into a bun, and sink into the hot water. It makes my skin tingle and goosebumps erupt all over my body. I lie back and close my eyes. For the first time in a long while, my head is clear of any thoughts, like my body has been freed from the heavy weight pressing down on me.

  Chapter 2

  The alarm buzzes at ten o’clock. Annoyed, I dive for my phone to shut the thing up. It was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time because I didn’t have Lauren on my mind all night. It’s as if yesterday she was put to rest in all senses. I rub my eyes in the hope it will get my eyelids moving, but it doesn’t quite do the trick, so I head straight for the shower, the only thing that can get me fully alert.

  After my shower, I put on some light makeup and tie my hair into a low ponytail, wrapping a strand of hair around the elastic to conceal it. My thick and shiny hair is one of the best things I inherited from my mother, and is the envy of many women. I throw on a pair of fitted jeans, a sleeveless red t-shirt and, after strapping on my brown wedge sandals, head downstairs for breakfast.

  Walking into the cosy breakfast room, I see Mrs Lewis standing between the few tables covered with white tablecloths. She is an older version of her daughter but not as slim, with her blonde hair cut in a neat bob that frames her delicate features. As she prepares a pot of coffee she hums a happy tune, another thing she has in common with Emma. At least someone’s in a cheerful mood. Well, I won’t complain - it makes a nice change. There is no one else around, probably because of the late hour, but Emma did say it was quiet so I guess not many of the other rooms are occupied. “Morning Mrs Lewis.” I say, plopping myself down into a chair.

  “Good morning Amy. I hope you had a good night’s rest. Emma told me you were worn out yesterday.” Her big blue eyes study me. “It seems you did because you’re looking much better than the past couple of days.” She puts the coffee pot down and walks towards me, smoothing down her apron.

  “I was just really nervous about the funeral,” I tell her. “I don’t handle them very well, especially when it’s someone I really cared about. But it’s over now, and life has to go on.”

  “Yes, you’re right about that, love, it’s what she would have wanted I’m sure.” She breaks into a compassionate smile. “So what interesting things do you have planned for today?” she asks, swiftly changing the subject.

  “I have to go to Canary Wharf to run an errand.” I don’t tell her it’s to go to Lauren’s workplace.

  “That’s good, at least you’re keeping busy. Well, what can I get you? I made some fresh scones this morning. I’m told they’re really good.”

  I smile back at her. “Hmm, I can’t take anyone’s word for it, I’ll have to try them myself just to make sure.” I don’t usually have anything to eat in the mornings but my stomach has gone too many hours without anything inside it and is yelling for food.

  “Good decision,” she says with a wink, and then saunters off into the kitchen.

  I decide to go to Canary Wharf by tube instead of taking the car because it will be impossible to park. Yesterday’s rain has passed and the sun is desperately trying to squeeze through the clouds.

  I arrive at Canary Wharf Station and look for Vibran Construction Enterprises, where Lauren worked as a secretary. It’s one of the most successful construction and real estate companies in the world. We started our respective jobs around the same time so I’ve never been here before, which is why I am standing in the middle of the plaza looking like a lost puppy. I’m surrounded by tall, glass-covered buildings and it’s difficult to distinguish one from another. I stop the first person I see, who just happens to be a young guy neatly dressed in a grey suit. He looks like he knows his way around. I ask him for directions and, after five minutes of blatant flirting with me, he eventually gives me the directions and I finally make it to the right building.

  On entering, I see an enormous reception area with a grey marble floor and huge white columns. There are several seating areas with big black leather armchairs positioned around hefty glass coffee tables. An imposing granite counter, in a full circle, marks the centre of the space. There must be hundreds of people working here and the place is buzzing with movement. Three receptionists dressed in immaculate, navy-blue uniforms sit behind the enormous counter and after gawking at my surroundings for God knows how long, I walk towards the one who looks the least busy.

  “Good morning madam, how can I help you?” she asks brightly.

  “Good morning,” I reply. “I’d like to speak to Ms Caroline Barker. I don’t think she’s expecting me but she said I could pop in anytime.”

  “Oh, yes of course. May I have your name please?”

  “Amy Phillips.”

  “Take the lift on your right to the twentieth floor. I’ll let them know you are on your way up.”

  “Thank you,” I reply and head towards the lifts.

  On reaching the twentieth floor the lift doors open to reveal another reception area almost identical to the one downstairs, but on a smaller scale. The walls are decorated with modern art, and the exterior facade is made up of wall-to-wall glass, providing a fantastic view of the Thames. The space is full of people and I’m beginning to think everyone chose today to come to Vibran’s offices. I glance around and notice Caroline walking towards me. Her blonde hair is tied in a neat bun, and her makeup is flawless. Do all the employees look like they’ve just walked out of a beauty salon?

  “Hello again Ms Phillips, I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

  “It’s Amy.” I shake her hand. “I thought I’d get this out of the way before I tackle other tasks. I hope that’s okay?”

  “Of course, it’s no problem at all. If you’d like to follow me, I’ll get Lauren’s things for you. She didn’t have much here, but there might be something among the items of sentimental value.” She looks back at me and gives me a yet another sympathetic smile. I’m getting so tired of them.

  I follow her to the desk, not really wanting to get into a conversation with her. The less I speak about Lauren, the fewer chances I have of the floodgates opening up again, leading to uncontrollable sobbing. So I just smile back.

  “I’ll get them from the stock room,” she says. “I won’t be long.” She hurries off down the corridor leaving me feeling completely out of place. I look around timidly, trying not to catch anyone’s eye. I’m certain I stick out like a sore thumb with my casual jeans and red top. I could have picked a normal pair to wear today, but no, I had to go and wear my designer jeans, also known as my scruffiest pair of jeans, ripped across the thigh and looking like they have been thoroughly destroyed. Way to go Amy.

  Caroline comes back carrying a big box in her arms. “Sorry, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

  From what I can see it’s mostly folders, books and office supplies.

  “No, it’s fine.” I reply, grateful she’s returned so I can get my self-conscious arse out of there.

  “If you could just fill in your contact details and sign this release form please?” she asks. “It’s just a formality to say you are now in possession of the items.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  As I fill in the form, I can feel a powerful presence behind me. I didn’t hear or see anyone approach me but I can definitely feel someone willing me to face them. I slowly straighten but, for some strange reason, I am afraid of what I might encounter. I turn and see a firm, muscular wide chest, covered in a crisp white shirt. The irresistible smell of a fresh, spicy fragrance emanates from it, so appealing it has my stomach twisting into knots, I just want to close my eyes and breathe him in.

  I drag my eyes up towards his face; a perfectly chiselled, square jaw covered with hair - not a full beard, but a little longer than a stubble, just the right length to embellish the full lips spread into a stunning grin. I gulp as my pulse starts racing irrationally. I’m afraid to keep looking. My eyes travel farther, passing a perfectly straight nose until I am gazing into a pair of incredible aqua-blue eyes adorned with thick, dark, long lashes. Holy Fuck! Oh God, I hope I didn’t say that out loud! I start to break out into a cold sweat. I’ve never had this reaction to anyone before, and I’m sure he can sense my nervousness, which makes me blush like a teenager.

  His hair is thick and dark brown, and he wears it short at the back but longer on top, gelled slightly so his hair falls back perfectly.

  “Hello,” he says through his breath-taking smile, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. “Caroline, aren’t you going to introduce us?” His voice is strong and slightly husky, exuding just as much sexiness as his magnificent body. He is undeniably stunning but, unfortunately, he seems to know it. Yet another guy so full of himself he flirts with everything that moves and I’m pretty sure they move right under him.

  “Of course Vincent,” Caroline says, “this is Amy Phillips, Lauren’s friend.”

  “Oh, I see.” His eyebrows draw together and he becomes serious. “Please accept my condolences.”

  I look away, completely flustered. I hate that a strange man can have this stupid effect on me, and I’m having immense trouble disguising the absurd attraction I feel for him. “Thank you. Um... I should really get going,” I say, awkwardly. My brain has suddenly decided to give me the silent treatment, cutting off all communication with my tongue, and I can't think of anything else to say. For some reason, I want to get as far away from this man as possible. “It was nice meeting you, Mr Moore.”

  “Please, call me Vincent, and it was certainly a pleasure meeting you.” He holds out his hand to me. I stare stupidly at it but am unable to move. If his mere presence has me acting like an infatuated adolescent, what will his touch do? He tilts his head and cocks an eyebrow, one side of his mouth turning up in a smirk as he waits patiently for me to shake his hand. Cocky bastard! I pull myself together and move my hand towards his, and as soon as I touch it, it happens... the spark sets off an electric current that travels up my arm and back down to my stomach were it shocks life back into hundreds of dormant butterflies. What the hell?! I instinctively pull my hand away.