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Treacherous
Barbara Taylor Bradford
SHORT-LENGTH NOVELLA exclusive on EBOOK only. Secrets, lies and betrayal collide in the gripping new novella from the incomparable Barbara Taylor Bradford.What would you do if you discovered that your best friend could be your worst enemy?Hayley Martin and Fiona Chambers have been best friends since they were ten. From the moment that beautiful Fiona stood up to the school bullies for Hayley, the misfit, the two have been inseparable. Twenty years on, they still share everything, and even run their own business together.Until a dark secret threatens to test their loyalty to breaking point…Is anyone really who they appear to be?
TREACHEROUS
Barbara Taylor Bradford
Copyright (#ulink_4eeadb83-c17c-5ae7-bd17-efea62027ca8)
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2014
Copyright © Barbara Taylor Bradford 2014
Cover photographs © Shutterstock.com (http://www.Shutterstock.com)
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2014
Barbara Taylor Bradford asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © August 2014 ISBN: 9780007503414
Version: 2017-10-25
‘How easy it is, treachery. You just slide into it.’
Margaret Atwood
The Year of the Flood
Table of Contents
Cover (#u25919e95-ae3b-5a3b-96bb-007f35827b83)
Title Page (#u391dccee-6289-5496-a8be-6d3a5145fbad)
Copyright (#u4e00f5e2-d541-5e29-8c3c-543de6697df5)
Epigraph (#u807da9e8-1c16-52e1-8334-e1448f48a089)
Prologue (#u29b5adb8-ca2f-5cc7-bf76-b488d7ab75fe)
Chapter One (#ubba9fb44-d7b2-536e-89b5-f794daf67127)
Chapter Two (#ubfd08900-6d6c-544e-8d8e-51e95660ef95)
Chapter Three (#u8a91895f-a635-5324-b8f6-1c82e591ec88)
Chapter Four (#u544265fe-5eb0-5367-be3b-df14f5afb58c)
Chapter Five (#u61a296dc-0927-580c-873a-74514015fdf3)
Chapter Six (#u04a92226-2fd7-5d52-84f8-09e3a47946fe)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Keep Reading – Cavendon Hall (#litres_trial_promo)
Keep Reading – Cavendon Women (#litres_trial_promo)
Keep Reading – Hidden (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#ulink_0217b8cb-e83e-5b0c-9703-3227694a8edb)
It was in the fifth grade, when they were ten, that Fiona Chambers crossed the soccer field to stand with, and up for, the new girl. Skinny, awkward, out of place at the posh prep school in New York, Hayley Martin had become a target for the establishment’s well-heeled bullies.
She was taunted about everything: her clothes, an unruly tangle of auburn curls, her status as a scholarship student, and the street slang that popped out of her mouth at inopportune times.
After an essay Hayley wrote about her time living in a homeless shelter was deemed best in the English class, and published in the school paper, the torment became almost intolerable.
Then one day Fiona walked over to the embattled girl, put an arm around her, and asked if they could sit together at lunch. That act of compassion changed everything for Hayley.
Fiona Chambers was a superstar. It wasn’t simply her classic blonde beauty, or her sense of humour, or the fact that she was very smart that drew people to her. Fiona had an inborn shimmer that could not be counterfeited. It was called charisma.
From that day forward, if anyone wanted to hang out with Fiona, they had to put up with this ‘rescue’ girl of hers. And just like that, Hayley was part of the in-crowd. In exchange, Fiona garnered the lifelong devotion of her new friend.
Well, lifelong is perhaps an overstatement. There would come a time when Hayley Martin’s raison d’être would be the complete and utter destruction of her former friend.
The transformation from acolyte to enemy was complicated. And perhaps it was inevitable.
ONE (#ulink_119760c0-b9f6-5a4a-ba9e-1925502ee7e3)
‘I just don’t see how we can do it, Hayley,’ Fiona said. ‘We have the Met Costume Gala that Saturday, Cancer the following week, and the Whitney wedding two days later.’
‘For Luke Thompson, we’ll find a way. And could you say Cancer Benefit, please.’ Hayley wrinkled her nose. ‘Cancer next week doesn’t sound that festive. Just the opposite.’
Fiona laughed. ‘Point well taken.’
‘Listen, I’d set my hair on fire if Luke asked me to. He wants us to do this party, so we do it. And that’s that.’
Still shy as a fawn in public, Hayley was a different person when she and Fiona were alone. Smart, accomplished and irreverent. The two girls had become inseparable at Miss Porter’s School, and beyond. They were roommates in college, had backpacked around Europe after graduation, and eventually landed in a tiny apartment in St Mark’s Place on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.
It was an ancient railroad flat, which meant that in 1910 three rooms were lined up in a row, like train carriages, and the bathtub was in the kitchen. It was a quirky little place but the girls loved it. The combination of Fiona’s creative ideas, and Hayley’s uncanny ability to transform dreams into reality, had changed an eyesore into a charming little gem. That rare blend of skills was to prove invaluable, when later they launched their joint venture from the fifth-floor walkup. They started an event planning company which they called Celebration.
Outsiders wondered what kind of glue made these two disparate personalities into such a cohesive team. It was simple really. Fiona admired Hayley’s grit and determination to overcome a background Dickensian in its bleakness. She took hard work and perseverance to a new level.
Hayley, on the other hand, was in awe of Fiona’s seemingly effortless ability to accomplish whatever she set out to do. And instead of being full of herself because of it, Fiona had a huge heart. She was capable of acts of profound compassion, such as taking a lonely young girl under her wing and changing her life.
This morning, twenty years after that event, the two women were sitting at the cluttered round table that served as an operations centre for Celebration. It was the spring of 2013, and they had a burgeoning business.
‘Could you not set your hair on fire, no matter who requests it,’ Fiona begged. ‘That blue tint you thought was so cool has almost grown out.’
‘If we do this for Luke, I promise I’ll only dye it colours found in nature,’ Hayley answered. ‘He’s family, Fiona. We taught each other how to kiss, underneath the stairs at that shelter on 86th Street.’
‘You never told me you were romantically involved with the hunkiest newsman on the air!’
Hayley laughed dismissively. ‘Hardly. I was eight, he was nine. And it wasn’t romance, it was a science experiment. When I was sent to Miss Porter’s, we swore to be friends for life, and we have been. Plus he looked after Mikey the best he could, after I’d gone.’
Fiona stiffened at the mention of Hayley’s younger brother. Mikey was trouble. But Hayley, who usually had an infallible radar about people, could not see it. She had practically raised the boy, in the absence of their will-o’-the-wisp mother, and in Hayley’s eyes he could do no wrong.
Fiona had an urge to say that Luke Thompson would have done better to watch out for the people Mikey conned, but she thought better of it. It would only upset Hayley. Instead, she said, ‘When am I going to get to meet this wonder?’
The investigative reporter was a household name, and Fiona admired him for the work he did. And he was a champion of the underdog, which made him extra special to her.
‘He’s hard to pin down. He’s always flying around the globe, covering disasters. Or exposing corruption,’ Hayley replied. ‘But when we plan this party for him, which we absolutely, positively must, you’ll finally meet him.’ Although she was usually indifferent about such things, she was growing agitated. ‘His television team is getting the Edward R. Murrow Award for their reporting on human trafficking.’
‘Talk about festive,’ Fiona murmured, raising a brow.
‘Figure it out, Fiona. Please.’
Fiona studied her friend. ‘You’re practically shaking, Hayley. Are you sure you don’t have strong feelings for Luke?’
‘Of course I have feelings for him. But not the kind you’re thinking. He’s like a brother. Romance would be like incest! Ick.’ She made a face, grimacing.
‘Okay, okay. Got it,’ Fiona said, examining the huge calendar that was displayed on the wall opposite. It was covered with neat printing which denoted events scheduled well into the next year. It hadn’t always been that way.
For the first few years, Celebration’s calendar was practically blank. A small wedding, a party on election night. They had even agreed to do a child’s birthday party. Anything to get them noticed by the people who gave the glittering events for which New York was famous.
The girls had supported themselves, and the fledgling business, by taking on any job they could get, sometimes two jobs at a time. They did telemarketing, dog walking, were even cocktail waitresses in a club that catered to ‘gentlemen in the sanitation removal business’. More precisely, wise guys connected to the mob.
No one had told them this, but it took Hayley, with her street background, only a few seconds to make that call. But even though the guys were connected to the Mafia, they were good tippers, and treated the girls with their version of respect. So they stayed and worked at the club.
There was one job Fiona had taken which was never, ever discussed, even by the two friends who shared everything. At one moment in time, Hayley stumbled on the truth of what Fiona had been doing on weekends, and it staggered her. ‘Why, Fiona? Why would you, of all people, do something like that?’ She had sounded horrified.
