This Girl, That Girl, page 19
Dee moved towards the door. ‘You’ll call me as soon as you’ve spoken to them?’
Scarlett nodded. ‘I will.’ She sensed Dee’s hesitation, her reluctance to leave. She met her eyes and held her gaze. ‘I promise.’
Gingerly, she got to her feet and followed Dee into the hallway. As soon as she had seen her out Scarlett locked the front door and dragged the bolts across. Her hands were still shaking. She glanced at the door to Rebecca’s apartment and pictured the scene all over again, just as she’d done every single day since it happened. Only this time, it was as though it were a painting. A gi-gantic canvas depicting horror and destruction on an unimaginable scale. Her brain registered it detail by grotesque detail, until it was spread out before her in all its hideous enormity. But what Scarlett saw in her mind’s eye wasn’t a work of art. It was so real she could almost smell the blood, the fear.
She staggered back into her apartment, her grief and loss now compounded by what she was about to do. What she had to do. She had no choice. A sob welled up in her throat and she sank to her knees, giving herself up to the emotion, experiencing the full force of it there on the kitchen floor. An avalanche of misery and pain and revulsion reducing her to her simplest form: a rocking, swaying, howling creature.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been crying when her sobs finally began to subside. By now, she’d reached the heaving, juddering stage and her knees were beginning to hurt where they were pressed into the ceramic tiles. It took all of her effort to stand up and hobble back to the sofa.
She raised her eyes to the ceiling, remembering that afternoon when she’d left her dad’s house and returned home for the first time since Rebecca’s murder. She had sat on this very sofa and contemplated the tragedy that had unfolded upstairs, tried to work out what it was that had motivated Clive to do what he’d done, scarcely able to believe him capable of such an act.
But what if he wasn’t capable? What if Clive hadn’t killed Rebecca in a frenzy of humiliated rage? What if Dee was right and what happened to Rebecca was somehow connected to Gina Caplin’s disappearance?
That small creep of mistrust, the one she’d felt when first setting eyes on the card and reading the message inside, seeing the name Gina, had steadily grown in size, until now it was full-blown dread. A deep, dark chasm splitting open inside her.
This was what had been brewing in her subconscious all this time. That appalling sensation of evil. What if Rebecca had been killed in a premeditated and systematic way? Clive, too. Slaughtered like animals, both of them, and by her own brother. No, it was unthinkable. But why else would he be so concerned about her dismantling the summer house? Her father, too. Did he know something as well? Was it all to do with the secret Rebecca couldn’t tell?
Scarlett dry-retched into her hand. She hoped to God she was wrong, but somehow she doubted it. What else could account for her aunt’s ten-year silence on the topic of Gina Caplin? And those comments she’d made about ‘this girl, that girl’ – were they the result of her deteriorating brain struggling to make sense of it all?
She wrenched her gaze away from the ceiling and counted, very slowly, to ten. Her heart still raced, so she did it again, even slower this time. Then, when she could delay the moment no longer, she reached for her phone.
44
Dee drove back to work too fast. When she turned into the side road where she normally parked there was only one space left and it took her ages to reverse into it. She had to keep telling herself to calm down and focus. Eventually, she managed to manoeuvre the car in. She was still way too far from the kerb, but it would have to do. After the bombshell Scarlett Quilter had just dropped, there were more important things to think about than parallel parking.
She rushed to the office, desperate to talk to Lindsay about what it all meant. They’d have to put their differences aside in the face of such shocking news; surely they would. But when she got there, sweating and panting, the ‘Back in Half an Hour’ notice was hanging on the door. Dee let herself in, hoping Lindsay had put it there because she didn’t want to be disturbed and not because she’d actually gone out. But Lindsay’s coat was missing from the hook.
Dee ran downstairs to check, just in case. After convincing herself of what she already knew, that Lindsay was most definitely not in the building, she stood in the empty prep room and waited for her breath to return to a more normal pace. Then she pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Lindsay’s numbers, mobile first, then her landline. The mobile went straight to voicemail and the landline rang out.
Dee thought of how Ollie had sized Lindsay up when he came to the shop that time they were dressing the window. And to think she’d been out on a date with him, that he knew where she lived. He might even have spent the night with her. Dee felt sick to the stomach. What if Lindsay was with him now?
If Scarlett was right and Ollie had something to do with Gina’s disappearance, God only knows what might have happened – what might still happen. Scarlett had been so scared of her brother letting himself into the house she’d bolted the front door as soon as Dee had arrived. And the second Dee had gone, she’d done it again.
Dee rang the mobile again and left a message. ‘Lindsay, you’ve got to ring me. It’s about Gina. Gina and the Quilters. She knew them. Gina and Rebecca kept in touch. Scarlett thinks her brother might know something. She’s ringing the police.’
She paced the floor of the prep room, expecting Lindsay to call back as soon as she heard the message. Except she didn’t. Dee rang again, but once more it went straight to voicemail. She left another message. ‘Lindsay, this is urgent. You have to ring me back. Please!’
She sent a WhatsApp too. If Lindsay was ignoring her calls and not listening to her voicemails, then at least she’d see the message notification flash up on her screen. The name Gina alone should make her get in touch.
But when fifteen minutes had passed with no response Dee really started to panic. Lindsay was never without her phone. It was like an extension of her body. She called Jake. Maybe he’d know where his sister was.
Jake answered straight away. It sounded like he was in a pub.
‘Where are you?’ she said.
‘What?’
‘Where are you?’
‘What do you want?’
His voice was cold and hard. She’d never heard him speak to her like this before. Not Jake. They’d known each other for as long as she’d been friends with Lindsay, and that was for ever. He was like a brother to her. But, of course, he wasn’t her brother. He was Lindsay’s brother. And when Lindsay was upset or offended, he was upset and offended on her behalf. He looked out for his little sister, always had.
Only this time it was Dee who’d upset and offended her. Lindsay must have told him about their argument and what Dee had said. Had she also told him what Dee had suspected? That she’d entertained the possibility that Jake and Gina had been having an affair before she went missing? No wonder he was being off with her.
‘Something’s happened, Jake. I need to speak to Lindsay. Is she with you?’
‘What’s that?’ Why did Dee get the feeling he was pretending not to hear her just to be awkward? ‘Sorry, you’re cracking up.’
‘Jake, listen to me. This is important. Is Lindsay with you?’
‘No. She’s at work. Where else would she be?’ His voice sounded slurred. How many had he had?
‘She isn’t at work, she’s—’
‘Listen, Dee, it was me who flogged that stuff. Not Lindsay. I made her give them to me. I had a gambling debt and I didn’t want Hayley to find out. It would have really stressed her out. Lindsay told me to spray-paint over the initials and the angel wings, but I was so desperate for the money I flogged it all right away to some bloke in the pub. How was I to know that ten years later he’d put the helmet on eBay?’
Dee sighed. That explained the look on Lindsay’s face when Dee told her where they’d turned up. But there wasn’t time for all this now. She had to speak to Lindsay.
‘I don’t care what happened. Not any more. I just need to speak to Lindsay.’
Jake sighed. ‘I don’t know where she is. Sorry. Got to go.’
‘Jake, no, don’t hang up.’ But the line had already gone dead.
Dee swore and called him back, but now his phone went straight to voicemail. She was about to leave a message when she thought about checking Lindsay’s Outlook diary. She pressed the keyboard to wake up her laptop and found herself looking at the Fond Farewells Facebook page and another damning review, this time from someone called Philip Smith.
It said: ‘If you want your late relatives to be treated with respect and dignity, DO NOT USE THIS FUNERAL FIRM. They are a joke. The two women who run it are liars and thieves and only out for what they can get. What I’ve been offered as compensation so far is an insult. They need to pay what they owe, or I’ll be taking this further.’
Dee balled her fists in anger. There was only one person this review could be from, and that was Trevor Cooper. Her earlier fears had been justified. This was nothing short of blackmail. He’d obviously been lying to Lindsay when he said the matter was now closed. Lindsay would be furious, which meant there was every possibility she’d gone round there straight away to give him a piece of her mind, to tell him where to shove his stupid reviews and his demands for ‘compensation’. It was exactly the sort of thing she would do.
Dee took the stairs two at a time. The situation was far from ideal, but at least she wasn’t with Ollie Quilter.
45
Trevor Cooper’s address was still etched in Dee’s memory, like everything else from his visit. It was a house in Church Manorway, up near the West Thamesmead Business Park. She grabbed her keys, locked up the office and went back to her car. If Lindsay was stupid enough to sleep with him again, who knew where this might end? He’d have a hold over her, and over the business, for as long as he wanted. No way was that going to happen.
She turned the key in the ignition and tapped the street address into the satnav, waited until it loaded. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do about this, but one thing was certain: she needed to make sure Lindsay was safe. She might not be with Scarlett’s brother, but she could still be in danger.
As she pulled away from the kerb it occurred to her that she really ought to try Jake again. He could easily summon up a few of his mates – Euan and the rest of the football team – to put the frighteners on Trevor Cooper. They weren’t the type to deliberately seek out trouble, but if one of their own needed help, they’d be up for it, she was sure they would. If they turned up on Trevor’s doorstep en masse, they’d be pretty intimidating. And it was Jake’s fault this was happening in the first place. If he hadn’t persuaded Lindsay to let him take that biking gear …
But even if they managed to keep the sordid details from his mates, Jake himself would have to be told the full story. Dee already knew his thoughts on Lindsay’s attitude to sex and men. It was the only source of tension between him and his sister. Lindsay wouldn’t want him knowing what she’d done. And it would make things even worse between her and Lindsay if Dee involved Jake without talking to her first. Anyway, this was their business. Hers and Lindsay’s. Their problem. And he’d sounded half pissed when she’d spoken to him on the phone.
Dee was driving too fast. She had to keep reminding herself to slow down and take care. Having an accident right now would be a nightmare. This whole bloody thing was a nightmare. All she wanted to do was find Lindsay, get her back to the office and tell her what Scarlett Quilter had told her. She didn’t need all this aggravation with Trevor sodding Cooper.
Dee parked up as near to the house as possible. It was a shabby-looking end-of-terrace. Dingy grey nets at the window. A badly paved front garden stained with lichen and oil. She noticed Lindsay’s car parked a little further along the street.
Dee ran towards it, hoping to God that Lindsay was still inside, but when she drew level with it she could see that it was empty. She started walking back towards the house, calling Lindsay’s phone as she did so. She could hear it ringing behind her. Lindsay must have left it in the car. Why on earth had she done that?
Starting to panic now, Dee went up to the front door. She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this, turning up at a stranger’s house all on her own. A lone female. But she needed to know if Lindsay was inside.
There was no doorbell to press, and no proper knocker either. She tried to make a sound with the letterbox, but it was useless, so she rapped on the cheap glazed door with her knuckles. Nobody came.
She bent down and pushed the letterbox open to peer inside the hall. From somewhere upstairs came the sound of voices. A man’s and a woman’s. Dee held her breath and strained her ears. It was definitely Lindsay, and she sounded really stressed.
Dee’s hackles rose. What the hell gave him the right to blackmail Lindsay like this? To make her do things she didn’t want to do? What was Lindsay thinking, coming round here again? Did she really feel so guilty about what she’d done that she was prepared to compromise her own safety, to allow herself to be degraded like this, rather than discuss it with Dee and decide what to do together, like they’d always done?
Dee rapped on the door again, harder this time. But still no one came. How could they not hear her if she could hear them?
She went round the side. The gate was shut, but it wasn’t locked. She slipped down the side passage, a narrow strip of dirty old concrete with weeds sprouting up through the cracks and crates of empty beer bottles stacked up against the wall. She peered in through the kitchen window. It was empty and dark. Dated kitchen fittings. A sink full of washing-up and loads of stuff out on the counter. Cereal boxes and saucepans. Empty takeaway cartons. The sort of kitchen students in a house-share might have. Or a slob, living on his own.
She tried the handle of the back door, expecting it to be locked, but it wasn’t. She hesitated, but only for a second. Now that she was actually doing this, she was surprised to find that fear wasn’t her primary emotion. It was anger. Rage.
She stepped inside. This was nothing whatsoever to do with Trevor Cooper’s indignation on his late friend’s behalf. Nor was it concern for Gabe’s family and the fact that their last wishes had not been respected. Trevor Cooper’s actions were now worse than the original crime. He was exploiting Lindsay, using her desperation to keep the good name of Fond Farewells as a means to his disgusting, depraved ends. Well, he wasn’t going to get away with it. Not if Dee had anything to do with it. She’d tell him, here and now, that if he wanted to tell Gabe’s mum and girlfriend what had happened, then that was entirely his decision. But Lindsay and Dee would not be held to ransom like this. Didn’t he know that blackmail was a crime too?
Lindsay had started to cry. Her sobs tore at Dee’s heart. Dee should never have let something like this cause a rift between them. It was her fault for reacting so badly in the first place, for not being more forgiving.
Fuelled by outrage at Trevor Cooper’s motivations, not to mention her pressing need to get Lindsay out of here and tell her that she might be romantically involved with Gina’s abductor and a possible triple murderer to boot, Dee took the stairs two at a time. She followed the sound of Lindsay’s sobs. They were coming from behind a closed door at the end of the corridor. Dee swung it open, her whole body bristling with rage.
46
Dee froze in panic. She’d just walked into her worst nightmare.
There were two men in the room. Trevor Cooper and a darker, leaner guy with acne scars on his cheeks and around his mouth. Lindsay was cowering on the floor, hair dishevelled, cheeks stained with tears. Trevor towered over her, handfuls of her hair in each of his big, meaty hands, the belt of his jeans hanging down, unbuckled.
He looked up in surprise, but the expression of shock on his face soon turned to something else. A wry, mocking sneer. He looked different from the last time she’d seen him. Meaner. Unhinged. Dee clocked the dilated pupils and knew straight away he was on something.
She shrank back, too petrified to run away. She couldn’t anyway. How could she leave Lindsay to this? The other guy took a step towards her and held out his arms as if she were a long-lost friend. ‘Come to join in the fun, have you?’
He was like an animal, moving in on his prey, smelling her fear.
Lindsay looked horrified. Desperate. ‘Get out of here, Dee. Run!’
But no sooner had the words left her mouth than Trevor slapped her viciously round the face, the force knocking her sideways. Dee recoiled. It felt almost as if he’d hit her, too. She watched, appalled, as he hauled Lindsay back into a kneeling position.
‘Shut up, bitch,’ he said.
The other guy moved slowly towards Dee. He wasn’t as well built as Trevor and he seemed more out of it, more unsteady on his feet. There were beads of sweat on his top lip and his eyes kept darting around as if he couldn’t focus properly.
‘Come on, darlin’, give us a cuddle.’
He shoved her against the wall and put his arms out either side of her. He pushed his face nearer hers. His breath smelled rank.
Dee turned her face away in disgust. Over his shoulder, she saw Trevor Cooper’s jeans slither to the floor. His hands were still in Lindsay’s hair. Bile rose in Dee’s throat. A lifetime of being careful and avoiding dangerous situations, and now here she was, in a house with two men high as kites on God knows what and with only one thing on their minds. What’s more, nobody knew where she and Lindsay were. Nobody.
She pushed her assailant away with a force that took them both by surprise. He staggered backwards, almost losing his balance. He was so out of it the push had completely disoriented him.
Dee’s eyes strayed to what was happening to poor Lindsay. The sheer horror of it. ‘Leave her alone!’ she shouted. ‘We don’t care if you tell Gabe’s mum what happened. We don’t care what you say. You can’t do this to us!’
