to have.”
Lucy saw the greeter’s eyes travel over her shoulder. She sneaked a look behind her to see that the sofa woman was no longer paying attention. Or, at least, none that she showed, continuing to listen and occasionally speak into her phone. She had a London accent, a bit cockney. Not Russian. That was good.
With no objection raised there, the greeter evidently thought it was safe to wave Lucy through, behaving as though the outcome were never in doubt. “Of course. Please do make sure, but I think you’ll find everything is in order.”
“I’m sure. I’m sure it is,” said Lucy. She took a door, exiting the reception area and leaving the two women behind.
Back here was the same restful piped music that had been playing in the entrance area, but with added whale noises to boot. Lucy hurried along a corridor, past doors marked “Treatment Suite One” and “Treatment Suite Two,” knowing that Susie Drake could well be in one of those but wanting to try a more communal area first. A changing room, perhaps? Do they have a pool? They must have a pool.
In fact, here it was at the end of the corridor: a square of shimmering light visible through the door.
She opened the door. The pool was empty. Right, changing rooms. Where are the bloody changing rooms? She took a left along the corridor, opaque glass to her right, swimming pool on the other side.
At the end was yet another door: “Changing Facilities.” In she went.
And sitting in there, toweling her wet hair, was a woman Lucy thought she recognized . . .
“Susie Drake?”
CHAPTER 37
SUSIE DRAKE DID not stop toweling her hair, but inclined her head to regard Lucy.
“You’re not a reporter, are you?” she said, scrunching the last of the damp from the ends of her hair.
“I’m not a reporter if you’re Susie Drake.”
“And if I’m Susie Drake then who are you?” She folded the towel quickly, laid it down beside her.
“I’m Lucy Shelley. Shelley’s wife.”
Susie Drake placed her hands on the bench on either side of her and looked long and hard at Lucy, as though assessing her. For a mad moment Lucy felt like a character in an old film, a nanny sent by the agency, coolly appraised by the lady of the house.
The feeling was quickly followed by the realization that Susie Drake knew Shelley well, or at least had known him well at one time, yet had never seen Lucy (unless she’d noticed her at Emma’s funeral, which was unlikely), and had probably been curious about her, this mythical fiancée that Shelley had been saving up to marry.
“How do I know you are who you say you are?” asked Susie.
Lucy told Susie everything she knew.
“Okay, then,” said Susie. “Years ago, Shelley and I used to have what he called a code phrase. Do you know the code phrase?”
“What if I don’t know the code phrase?”
“Maybe I won’t hold it against you.”
“Okay, I’ll try one. Be lucky.”
“That’ll do,” said Susie. “So, you’re Lucy. You were in the SAS, too.”
Lucy nodded.
“I didn’t know the SAS took women.”
“They don’t, officially. I came in the back door, via the SRR, the Special Reconnaissance Regiment. They put me and Shelley together, and that was it. Love among the black ops.”
“You were in the same unit, weren’t you?” said Susie.
“Well, the same ‘patrol,’ they call it: me, Shelley, and another guy.”
“And you fell in love with Shelley?”
“Yes,” said Lucy, “I guess I did.”
“You’re younger than he is.”
Not sure how to take that, Lucy replied, “Yeah, but only by five years. Just that he’s got the grumpy-old-man thing going on.” There was a pause during which Lucy wondered if she’d just been disloyal. “The sexy-grumpy-old-man thing,” she amended. And then she wondered if she’d put her foot in it, given that Susie was of course considerably younger than Guy Drake, who, by all accounts, was properly grumpy, not just Shelley-grumpy, and could not by any stretch of the imagination be described as sexy.
“Would you have fallen in love, do you think, if you hadn’t been thrown together in these high-pressure situations?”
Already slightly flustered, Lucy was taken aback afresh. Not just because the line of questioning was so personal but because she’d occasionally wondered the same herself, and what she told Susie Drake now was the same conclusion she’d previously come to. “I would have fallen in love with Shelley whatever the circumstances,” she said. “He’s straight up, full of truth. The most honorable person I’ve ever met. He’s the kind