Page 86 of Perfect Strangers

‘It involved duping old ladies in Monte Carlo, if you must know. Somehow I doubt a member of the blue-rinse brigade killed Nick.’

Sophie didn’t know why she was so glad Josh had turned down Nick’s scheme, but she was. She supposed she wanted to hear that Josh McCormack wasn’t all bad, that he had a heart and it wasn’t hidden too far below the surface.

‘So why didn’t you do it?’ she asked.

‘Look, I just couldn’t. That was the reason I started the watch consultancy business, selling real watches this time. I suppose I just didn’t want to end up like Nick, hopping from one hotel room to the next, skipping out on the bill at the end of the week. Anyway, he never really forgave me. Couldn’t understand why I wanted a regular life.’

‘I have to say, you don’t strike me as the regular-life kind of guy either,’ said Sophie, teasing gently.

‘I don’t want to be looking out of the window wondering if my kids are going to see a squad car turning up at the house,’ he said, his voice serious, maybe even a little angry.

Sophie frowned.

‘You have kids?’

She heard the snort again.

‘One day.’

‘Well, you’d have to get married first,’ she said.

‘I’d have to find a wife first.’

‘What about the girl in Camden?’ she asked, remembering the alibi he had given her on the Nancy Blue. What are you doing bringing her up like some jealous girlfriend? she scolded herself.

‘Oh her,’ chuckled Josh. ‘I never did call her back. Some pretty Chelsea posh girl popped up and took up all my time.’

‘Do you want to? Call her back, I mean?’

She surprised herself, not just by asking the question, but at how bothered she was over what his response might be.

Josh paused for a long moment.

‘Probably not. She was some crazy musician chick and I think there’s enough excitement in my life right now.’

Sophie closed her eyes, wondering if that was Josh’s type; a boho beauty with a guitar and lots of piercings. She’d smell of exotic perfume, give him an expert blow job, then sing him to sleep. If she had been more awake, she might have recognised a brief flutter of envy about the unknown Camden musician, but her eyes were closing, heavy now, so heavy, and she couldn’t think about anything else except the gentle lull of the carriage rocking from side to side.

When she opened her eyes again, she could see Josh standing in the cramped space next to the bunks, his perfectly round bum pointing towards her as he bent over to pull up his trousers.

‘Sorry,’ she said, failing to avert her eyes from his naked back as he pulled on a new T-shirt.

‘Morning,’ he grinned playfully. ‘Thought I’d better smarten up my image if we’re going to do the Riviera properly.’

‘Where are we?’ she asked sleepily as he pulled up the blind.

‘Just past Antibes, so we should be there soon. You should wash, clean up. The toilets are just at the end of the carriage. They’re not great, but there’s water and I’ve got a spare toothbrush and some paste in my holdall.’

‘I don’t suppose you have any spare clothes in there?’

‘Nothing suitable for walking through Nice in broad daylight. Anyway, stop complaining. Those jeans suit you.’

She was still smiling to herself as she swayed down the corridor, bumping from side to side. She stopped to peer out of the window, squinting at the too-bright blue sky. It couldn’t be much past seven, but already the cloudless sky and the rising orange sun promised a glorious day. As it should be for my glamorous time in the South of France, she thought, before reminding herself that they were here to do a job. For now, though, she allowed herself to soak up the sights and sounds, enjoying the sensation of the ice-cold water she splashed on her face in the toilet, feeling her energy rise as they approached Nice station. She had no idea what the day held, but there was an excitement, an anticipation of the unknown she was beginning to enjoy.

‘Let’s go,’ said Josh, picking up Sophie’s bag as she returned to the cabin, just as they pulled into the platform. ‘We could get the train to Cannes, but a cab should be quicker.’

They joined the rest of the passengers streaming from the train and through the barriers to the concourse, which was crowded with people waiting to get on the train for the return journey to Paris. Sophie was just looking for the sign for the taxi rank – at least ‘taxi’ was ‘taxi’, whatever country you were in – when Josh took her hand, gripping it tight.

‘Keep moving,’ he whispered.