The Woman Next Door(41)

Well! I can feel the tears rising up and I can’t stop them. After everything I’ve done for that girl and am still prepared to do, she speaks to me like that. The ingratitude …

My tea is only half-drunk and I am so exhausted now that my eyes seem to be filled with sand but I can’t stay here a moment longer.

I push back my chair and lift my chin, mustering my dignity.

‘I will be in the van, resting. You should stay here for a while. I think you need time alone.’ I pause. ‘And quite frankly, so do I!’

With that, I march away from the table and across the concourse, back to my Bertie.





MELISSA


Melissa gulps the coffee and winces as she burns her tongue. She watches Hester bustle out of sight and wonders if she should follow her and apologize. She hadn’t meant to snap. It was the matter-of-fact nature of the words that had offended her, not their volume.

Ice packs, talk of rigor mortis … it makes it all so real. The way Hester refers to Jamie’s body as ‘it’.

But isn’t that all that’s left? Jamie has gone. It’s too late to help him now.

These thoughts seem to set off a silent scream inside her and she reaches for the coffee, slopping it a little through the drinking hole. She sucks the brown foam from her hand and lifts her eyes. A few sleepy-looking men – lorry drivers she presumes – are dotted about, and a member of staff dragging a mop in desultory circles across the floor.

And then, looking towards the entrance again, she sees something that makes her entire body thrill with horror.

Two police officers – a man and a woman – are walking towards her.

He is bald and portly. Older. She is delicate-boned and dark-skinned.

The man is scanning the café area and, after a brief exchange of words, the woman peels off from his side and moves out of sight.

Melissa’s heart pounds so hard she can hear its throbbing beat in her head. She can’t breathe. Sweat slimes her back.

Wildly she looks around to see if there is any prospect of running away but there is only one entrance. The policeman is almost with her now. She is a second away from standing up and holding out her wrists for the handcuffs when he gives her a small nod and walks past. Melissa begins to tremble, hard, all over.

She can’t stop herself from glancing behind her. He has taken a seat further back and is picking up a newspaper that has been left on the table.

He clears his throat loudly and rubs his nose, his head down. Oblivious to her.

After a few minutes, in which Melissa barely breathes, the policewoman comes over with a tray laden with red and yellow McDonald’s’ packages. Melissa drops her eyes to her coffee until the policewoman passes her.

She should wait a few moments and then leave.

She knows that’s what she should do.

But as the seconds tick by, a powerfully seductive feeling creeps over her.

Maybe this is a sign?

What are the chances of a couple of coppers being right here, right now?

This is her opportunity to make it all right. She never really meant for it to get this far. Kill someone? Dispose of the body? It was all ridiculous. It was all a terrible, terrible misunderstanding and, if she can only explain, things will start to get better again.

If she got up right now, walked over to them, and said, ‘I want to report a murder’, what would they do? Would there be a moment of incredulity, maybe even laughter, at the improbability of these words being true? Maybe their training and professionalism would kick in straight away. Maybe Melissa would be over the table, hands and feet spread, while they roughly patted her down before she had time to blink.

For a moment she wants this. She downs the last of the coffee in a decisive swig. It would be so easy.

I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. Take me away now.

The cocoon of shock that has encased her until this moment is finally cracking, and the plan she and Hester had hatched in her kitchen seems ridiculous. Almost laughable.

Melissa is on her feet before the next thought seeps into her brain.

What about Hester?

She has to give the other woman the opportunity to get away first. It’s only right.

An airy joy fills her up inside as she snatches her handbag from the table and hurries out of the service station towards the car park.

At first, she can’t remember where the van is parked. She sees the police car and she clearly pictures sitting in the back of it all the way back to London. She hesitates, suddenly incapable of deciding what to do next, and she sees the van, at last, parked at a slightly skewed angle. As she gets closer Melissa can’t see any sign of Hester, then she appears suddenly from the back of the van, clutching her dog to her stout bosom.

She gives a little start when she sees Melissa. Her lips tighten and thin in disapproval.

‘I was just attending to Bertie,’ she says in a clipped voice. ‘Have you had enough of a rest? We should probably get on our way soon.’

Melissa reaches out and gently places a hand on Hester’s arm. Hester gazes down at it before looking up, blinking owlishly.

‘I’m so sorry if I offended you,’ says Melissa. ‘I truly am grateful for everything you’ve done for me, Hester. But look …’, she hesitates, stuck for a moment, and then something is uncorked in her. ‘We can’t really do this. It’s insane! Can’t you see that? I wanted to tell you just to leave, to go home. I’m going to hand myself in.’ She speaks too fast but can’t stop the words from flooding out.