Page 90 of Private Lives

Mandy gave a low, slow laugh.

‘Ryan Jones?’ she chuckled. ‘Ryan’s an arsehole, there’s no doubt about that. But a killer? He hasn’t got the balls.’

Anna smiled. Mandy had given a pretty accurate assessment of Ryan’s personality, in her opinion.

‘I spoke to Ryan at the weekend and he thought that Amy might have had another boyfriend. He was saying that he thought Amy used him to get back at someone. Do you know what he meant by that?’

Mandy pulled a face.

‘Like I said, we weren’t close, but I do think she was unhappy about some guy. That night we met Ryan, Amy had had a few drinks – she wasn’t usually a drinker but I think she was upset. I remember she asked me: “Do you think I’d get in the papers if I shagged Ryan?” At the time I thought it was weird, because she was never one to go boasting about her boyfriends.’

‘Why do you think she was discreet?’

Mandy shrugged.

‘There’s different reasons why we do this job,’ she said quietly. ‘People think we’re tarts, slags. And yes, some girls like showing off, they like the attention and all the parties. When you’re living in the back arse of nowhere, with no hope of getting out, it looks pretty nice dating people off the telly and that. But Amy wasn’t like that; she was smart, savvier than most. She wouldn’t do glamour or topless like this, only swimsuit stuff, because I think she had plans to get out.’

‘What plans?’

‘Sorry,’ said Mandy. ‘We never really had many heart-to-hearts, and like I say, she was a private sort of person. Don’t get me wrong, though, she did like the modelling and the partying, because of the people it could introduce her to.’

‘The men it could introduce her to?’ prompted Anna.

‘Yeah, sure. Amy just wanted a better life for herself. We’re all looking for a meal ticket,’ said Mandy, glancing at Wayne again. ‘And I actually think Amy had found hers.’

‘So who was it?’

Mandy looked down at her long, squared-off nails.

‘About twelve months ago we were driving past the Houses of Parliament. We were in a taxi going from one party to another one in Chelsea. Amy was drunk. She told me that she’d had sex there.’

‘In the Houses of Parliament?’

Mandy nodded. ‘Saucy, hey? Of course I asked who. She said it was that MP Gilbert Bryce. Always on telly. Bit of a wanker.’

‘And you think that’s who she was seeing just before she got together with Ryan?’

‘After she told me about it, I only saw her maybe twice a month. When I asked her about it, she totally clammed up. The only thing she said was that she was seeing someone but she couldn’t talk about it because if she did he might finish with her.’

‘And you think it was Gilbert.’

‘He’s a twat but he’s ambitious. If it came out about a relationship with Amy, the press would have spun it as “Bryce Dates a Glamour Girl”. He’d definitely want her to keep quiet about it.’

‘Oi, Mands!’ shouted the man in the waistcoat. ‘We’re ready for you.’

‘Okay, lover!’ she called, then rolled her eyes at Anna. ‘It’s a living,’ she said.

She stood up and Anna shook her hand.

‘Sorry I couldn’t help more,’ said Mandy.

Anna smiled at her.

‘Oh, I think you’ve helped a great deal.’

27

Sam looked at the phone, willing himself to pick it up. He hadn’t felt this way since he was a teenager, trying to pluck up the courage to call some girl, but even then he hadn’t felt this anxious. Then, as ever, girls always said yes to his invitations. ‘Come on,’ he said to himself. ‘You’re Sam Charles. Everyone wants to talk to you.’ Yet somehow it was hard to convince himself. Just six weeks ago, he was one of the world’s biggest stars, engaged to one of the world’s most desirable women. He’d never tried, but Sam suspected that if he’d called the White House, they’d have taken his call.