Three hours pass and I decide I may as well get up and start my day as sleep has eluded me since overhearing Yanni and Eloise's conversation, my brain whirring with thoughts and questions, the most pressing one for me being 'who owns that third voice'?
After a quick shower I dress in a one piece swimsuit and throw a sunflower covered sundress over the top, a pair of Versace sliders on my feet and most importantly, a pair of dark Versace sunglasses, the lack of sleep blindingly apparent below my eyes. No bikini for me because of the ugly purple bruise below my navel. I have no desire to explain where that came from to anyone!
Grabbing my laptop, phone and notepad I head downstairs to make coffee before settling down at the kitchen island to do some investigating.
I've found a flight to the UK on the 18th of December, giving me time to get over the inevitable jet lag, do some Christmas shopping and also to visit Laura before spending some time with my parents. Of course I want to catch up with Laura, I miss her like crazy, but honestly, the main reason I want to see her is to pick her brains about the Lola Livingstone murder case. I'm positive she will be working it as it's pretty high profile and she is one of the best detectives in the MET.
Im jotting notes of the flight number and times in my notepad and become aware of a presence.
'Please don't be Yanni, please don't be Yanni, please don't be Yanni' I internally chant, turning in my seat to see…..
"Oh, Yanni!"
Of course it's him!!
I hastily leave my seat and move around the island, wanting to put a physical barrier between us, my body immediately betraying me, displaying my strong reaction to his presence.
I offer him coffee which he accepts as he takes my seat at the island.
"You have a hot arse Syd" he smirks, and I feel the blush on my cheeks. He is referring to the warmth of my seat of course, but the innuendo is clear.
Accepting the coffee with a nod of thanks he asks what I'm looking at, although he is staring at my laptop screen as he speaks so the question is pointless. May as well have that conversation about going home for Christmas now then!
Just as I am about to tell him of my plans there is a loud knock at the front door which makes me jump out of my skin, a small shriek leaving my throat.
"Who the fuck is that this early, and how the hell did they get past the security?" he storms, anger clear on his flushed face as he heads for the door. I trot along behind him to see who is again banging on the door, this time louder. I feel trepidation as Yanni opens the door and standing there on the step is Ben!
Relief washes over me at his familiar face, even though I don't actually know him at all. At least it isn't some crazed fan!
"Hi Ben!! Come in, your mum isn't up yet but you can come in and wait until she is if you want to. That's ok isn't it Yanni?" I request.
"You know him!?" he responds with a look of bewilderment.
"Jimmie and I met him yesterday. He's Muriels son! Come in Ben" I repeat, gesturing he follow me into the house and offering him coffee as I return to the kitchen.
"I'm afraid you have me confused with my brother, I'm Grant Turner. Ben is my brother" he smiles, accepting the coffee I hand to him, Yanni following in behind him and returning to the seat he just vacated.
"Oh right! Sorry. Wow, you really are identical aren't you!" I chirp, staring at him, as Yanni invites him to sit down.
Grant pulls a wallet from the breast pocket of his very nice grey suit and opens it up, showing something to Yanni as he informs us that he is in fact a police officer, here in an official capacity and not to visit his mother.
What the actual...?
"Im here at the request of the Metropolitan police in London, England. I need to speak to Ms Sydney Benfield. Is that you?" he questions. I nod slowly and my heart turns to ice in my chest. Oh my god, my parents!!! He must be here to tell me something awful has happened to one or both of them! I feel nauseous and light headed as I ask...
"Are they dead? My parents? What happened?"
"Miss Benfield, I am here to discuss a case that is being investigated back in London. As far as I know it does not involve your parents, they are perfectly fine, don't worry. I'm sorry to have alarmed you"
"Thank god!" I respond, exhaling heavily with relief, then immediately wonder which case he is referring to, and how I could possibly help.
"Which case?"
"The Lola Livingstone murder case" he replies, looking between Yanni and me over the top of his mug before taking a large mouthful. I immediately look at Yanni and find that all the colour has drained from his face, his shoulders have sagged and he looks smaller, less broad, and also as if he is about to cry.
Oh no! He DID have something to do with it.
"Erm, ok. I'm not sure how I can help you, I never met her. I was looking into her case out of curiosity initially, what with being a journalist with a bit of a fascination for all things true crime, but then I spoke to your mum about Ben and...… wait! Can you investigate a case that you have a personal connection to? He's your brother after all!"
Grant has removed a small notepad from his pocket and is about to write something, but looks up with shock as I ask this question. He places his pencil down and tells me that he is able to take initial statements in lieu of the British police.
"Ok. Well, as I said, I don't... didn't.... know Miss Livingstone personally, but promised your mum Id see if I could find out any information that could help Ben" I inform him.
Yanni, who has been quiet up until this point clears his throat and asks….
"Sorry. What has this all got to do with
your brother, or Sydney for that matter?"
"I'm sorry sir, you are…..?"
"Yanni Smith" he answers coldly, no warmth in his voice. Jimmies words about Smith being a very common surname here come back to me. He wasn't wrong.
Grant raises his eyebrows and writes in his notepad….. oh how I wish I could see what he is writing, my need for knowledge not as great as the island barrier between myself and the information I desire.
"Oh, Mr Smith, I also need to speak to you. How convenient you two are here together. What a coincidence" he chuckles, but there is no humour in the sound, only suspicion. A wordless implication that we may have been jointly involved in some way? I'm shocked, and terrified. He can't seriously believe I, we, had something to do with this, and I say as much.
"Miss Benfield, I don't make judgements, my job here today is to ask a few simple questions to send back to the detectives in the UK. What they then do with that information is for them to decide. Now... are you happy to continue this conversation with Mr Smith present, or would you prefer some privacy?"
"No, it's fine….. Yanni can stay. I have nothing to hide from him." As the words leave my mouth I realise that they make it sound like we have an intimate relationship, and panic. I begin babbling and flexing my fingers, as per my habit when anxious.
"We aren't together if that's what you think. No! I'm here working. I am the official biographer for 5EX, I'm here to get to know the members so I can write accurately and informatively about them. How can I help with a murder case of a woman I don't know? Do I need a lawyer? Should I have a lawyer? I think…."
"Sydney, can I call you Sydney?" he asks and I nod weakly at his smiling face…...
"Calm down. It's ok. I'm not here to accuse or arrest anyone. I just need some questions answered then I can leave you to get on with your day and this will probably be the last you hear of it. Ok?" he reassures me. Again I nod.
"Sydney. Do you recall what happened on the night you returned home from your work assignment in... hmmm.... where is it, oh yes, here it is! Canada. 2019?" he questions.
I don't need to consider that at all, the images in my mind as clear as if I were looking at them right now.
I remember being both devastated AND relieved in equal measure.
Devastated that Harry was fucking someone else in my bed, but relieved as it gave me a reason to leave him!
I'm not sure what this has to do with Lolas case, unless...…..
"Oh my God!!! The woman...…"
"She was Lola Livingstone" Grant affirms.
Yanni and I eye each other across the island, his face surely a reflection of my own. Pure shock!