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LONDON, 1986

Nicole can’t get to the Savoy quickly enough once Ben called to tell her that Cassie had been at the press conference, but that she’d disappeared before he could speak to her. “Who else would know that stuff?” he’d said, when she’d asked if he was sure.

After being up all night looking for her, trying anywhere Cassie may have gone to escape the pain of Nicole’s deceit, she can’t help but wonder why her sister would punish herself even more by going to the press conference.

“Excuse me, madam,” says a uniformed guard standing by the lift. “Can I see your room key, please?”

Nicole huffs. She hasn’t got time for this. “I’m going to room 239,” she says, going to push past his outstretched arm.

“If you wouldn’t mind reporting to the front desk first,” he says, putting his hand in the small of her back to guide her toward reception.

“Look, I’m just…”

“I have a young lady here looking for room 239,” says the man to the woman behind the desk. A brief conspiratorial nod of mutual understanding passes between them, making Nicole feel like a groupie trying her luck.

“Are you a guest of the hotel?” asks the woman, with her nose in the air.

“I’m visiting,” says Nicole impatiently.

“And who might you be visiting?” she asks, getting ready, with smug superiority, to signal to the guard to remove Nicole.

Nicole almost doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of saying it out loud, but she has to find Cassie. “Peter Pan,” she says.

The woman’s assured expression becomes pinched as she gives the guard a reluctant nod.

As soon as his grip on her is released, Nicole races to the lift and pushes at the buttons indiscriminately, wondering if she’ll find Cassie quicker if she takes the stairs. But the reassuring ping is almost immediate and, as she steps inside the mirrored box, she can’t help but wonder what will await her when the doors open onto the parallel universe two floors up. Will Ben have found Cassie and be talking her round? Or will she have done something so unimaginable that none of their consciences will ever recover?

Of all the unthinkable scenarios Nicole’s disturbed mind offers her, the one she hasn’t allowed for was to find Michael prowling the second-floor corridor, pacing back and forth outside Ben’s room.

“You’d better open this fucking door right now!” he roars, smashing his fist into what looks like an already splintered door.

Nicole momentarily freezes, knowing what this brute is capable of. But when she pictures Cassie’s tear-stained face as he forces himself onto her, she’s overcome with a rage so all-consuming that she can’t hold back, painfully aware that if anything’s happened to her, he’s as guilty as she is.

“Where is she?” Nicole screams, running at him and beating her fists into his chest. “Where’s my sister?”

“What the…?” he yells as he grabs hold of her flailing hands and slams her back against the wall.

“I know what you did,” she spits, writhing to free herself from his tightening grip. “And if anything’s happened to her, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you pay for it.”

Michael’s nostrils flare and he raises his hand. Nicole flinches, bracing for impact.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” comes a voice.

Michael’s arm freezes in midair and his grin makes him look psychotic as he turns to see Ben racing toward them.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he sneers, as Ben takes hold of Nicole and pushes her behind him. “Is this her ? Is this the reason you’re not thinking straight?”

Michael’s wide-eyed stare and dilated pupils set Nicole’s teeth on edge and, despite jutting her jaw defiantly and willing herself to stand tall, the fearless fight she was happy to pick a few seconds ago has suddenly deserted her. Without even realizing it, she’s backed herself up against the wall; as if sensing her discomfort, Michael smiles, making her feel as if she’s a toy mouse on a piece of string.

“So, you’re making music and fucking…?” he sneers, whistling through his teeth. “Man, you never cease to surprise me. You could have any girl you wanted…”

Ben’s jaw spasms at Michael’s attempt to make Nicole feel worthless, but she pulls on his hand, holding him back from doing anything he might live to regret.

“So, you’re just going to let Miss Yoko Ono here destroy everything we’ve worked our arses off for?”

“You’ve done that all by yourself,” snaps Ben.

Michael turns to Nicole. “You must be really something if you’ve got the power to stop our boy in his tracks…”

“Nicole, go inside,” says Ben, his eyes never leaving Michael.

She’d love nothing more than to do what he’s telling her, but her feet are cemented to the ground, seemingly immovable, though whether it’s from shock or fear she doesn’t know.

“I can’t see it myself,” Michael goes on. “But then I’ve never had a redhead—and by all accounts they go like the clappers, so maybe I should give you a go.” He pushes past Ben and thrusts himself at Nicole, making a grab for her breast.

Suddenly there’s a flash of movement as Ben’s fist hits Michael’s jaw square on. His head snaps back and he momentarily lurches sideways as he attempts to find his footing.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Ben yells, as he hits him again, sending blood splatters onto his T-shirt.

“Ben, no!” screams Nicole, attempting to pull him off as Michael staggers, trying to right himself.

“Stay out of this,” yells Ben, wrenching himself free to lunge at Michael again. But he’s had a split-second reprieve—enough time to retaliate.

The punch sends Ben backward, his feet momentarily leaving the ground and his body buckling under the force of Michael’s knuckles. “You think you’re so high and mighty,” roars Michael, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. “But you’re nothing without me.” His spittle sprays the air, his words landing even harder than the punch.

Ben sways on unsteady feet and Michael can’t disguise a smug grin as he wipes blood from his lip with the back of his hand.

As much as Nicole can’t bear to see Ben hurt, Cassie is far more important than the bruised egos of two men who should know better.

She races into the room that Ben came out of, hoping to find Cassie there, out of harm’s way. She no longer cares what may or may not have gone on between them—it’s all become irrelevant since the funeral. All she needs to know is that she’s safe. But the room is woefully empty, and Nicole races down the opposite end of the corridor from where Michael and Ben are still trying to defend their pride with warring words and physical exchanges.

“You need to get someone up to the second floor,” she says to the guard as she emerges from the lift into the lobby. “They’re about to kill each other.”

If she’d known how prophetic her words were, and that they’d later be relied upon in a court of law, she would have chosen them more carefully.