A Good Girl's Guide to Murder(101)

It was Ravi, standing in front of his parents, the spaces between them perfect like they’d pre-arranged the pose.

‘Hello, Sarge,’ Ravi said, smiling at her bright and garish pyjamas. ‘This is my mum, Nisha.’ He gestured like a game-show host and his mum smiled at Pip, her black hair in two loose plaits. ‘And my dad, Mohan.’ Mohan nodded and his chin tickled the top of the giant bouquet of flowers he held, a box of chocolates tucked under the other arm. ‘Parents,’ Ravi said, ‘this is the Pip.’

Pip’s polite ‘Hello’ got muddled in with theirs.

‘So,’ Ravi said, ‘they called us in to the police station earlier. They sat us down and told us everything, everything we already knew. And they said they’d be holding a press conference once they’ve charged Mr Ward, and will release a statement about Sal’s innocence.’

Pip heard her mum and heavy-footed dad walking up the hallway to stand behind her. Ravi did the introductions again for Victor’s sake; Leanne had met them before, fifteen years ago when she’d sold them their house.

‘So,’ Ravi continued, ‘we all wanted to come over and thank you, Pip. This wouldn’t have happened without you.’

‘I don’t quite know what to say,’ Nisha said, her Ravi-Sal round eyes beaming. ‘Because of what the two of you did, you and Ravi, we now have our boy back. You’ve both given Sal back to us, and there are no words for how much that means.’

‘These are for you,’ Mohan said, leaning forward and handing over the flowers and chocolates to Pip. ‘I’m sorry, we weren’t quite sure what you’re supposed to get for someone who’s helped vindicate your dead son.’

‘Google had very few suggestions,’ said Ravi.

‘Thank you,’ Pip said. ‘Do you want to come in?’

‘Yes, do come in,’ Leanne said, ‘I’ll put on a pot of tea.’

But as Ravi stepped into the house he took Pip’s arm and pulled her back into a hug, crushing the flowers between them, laughing into her hair. When he let her go Nisha stepped up and folded her into a hug; her sweet perfume smelled to Pip like homes and mothers and summer evenings. And then, not sure why or how it happened, they were all hugging, all six of them swapping and hugging again, laughing with tears in their eyes.

And just like that, with crushed flowers and a carousel of hugs, the Singhs had come and taken away the suffocating and confused sadness that had taken over the house. They’d opened the door and let out the ghost, for at least a while. Because there was one happy ending in all of this: Sal was innocent. A family set free from the grave weight they’d carried all these years. And through all the hurt and doubt that would come, it was worth hanging on to.

‘What are you guys doing?’ said Josh in a small and baffled voice.

In the living room they sat around a full afternoon tea spread that Leanne had improvised.

‘So,’ Victor said, ‘are you going to the fireworks tomorrow night?’

‘Actually,’ Nisha said, looking from her husband to her son, ‘I think we should go this year. It’ll be the first time since . . . you know. But things are different now. This is the start of things being different.’

‘Yeah,’ Ravi said. ‘I’d like to go. You can never really see them from our house.’

‘Awesome sauce,’ Victor said, clapping his hands. ‘We could meet you there? Let’s say seven, by the drinks tent?’

Josh stood up then, hurrying to swallow his sandwich so he could recite: ‘Remember remember the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot.’

Little Kilton hadn’t forgot, they’d just decided to move it to the fourth instead because the barbecue boys thought they’d get a better turnout on a Saturday. Pip wasn’t sure she was ready to be around all those people and the questions in their eyes.

‘I’ll go and refill the pot,’ she said, picking up the empty teapot and carrying it through to the kitchen.

She flicked on the kettle and stared at her warped reflection in its chrome frame until a distorted Ravi appeared in it behind her.

‘You’re being quiet,’ he said. ‘What’s going on in that big brain of yours? Actually, I don’t even need to ask, I already know what you’re going to say. It’s Andie.’

‘I can’t pretend like it’s over,’ she said. ‘It’s not finished.’

‘Pip, listen to me. You’ve done what you set out to do. We know Sal was innocent and what happened to him.’

‘But we don’t know what happened to Andie. After she left Elliot’s house that night, she still disappeared and was never found.’

‘It’s not your job any more, Pip,’ he said. ‘The police have reopened Andie’s case. Let them do the rest. You’ve done enough.’

‘I know,’ she said and it wasn’t a lie. She was tired. She needed to finally be free of all this. She needed the weight on her shoulders to be just her own. And that last Andie Bell mystery wasn’t hers to chase any more.

Ravi was right; their part was over.





Forty-Eight



She had meant to throw it out.

That’s what she’d told herself. The murder board needed to be thrown out because she was finished here. It was time to dismantle the Andie Bell scaffolding and see what remained of the Pip beneath. She’d made a good start, unpinning some of the pages and putting them in piles by a bin bag she’d brought up.