Cross Her Heart(32)

You’ve got to hand it to Penny, she’s at her finest under pressure, but she still looked at me funny when I came in, although nothing compared to the glances the others gave me. The way you look at someone you almost feel sorry for but who might be contagious. Everyone’s smiles were too tight and their concern too shallow. They were more curious than worried. How awful for you. You must feel terrible. Underneath it all was the lingering, unspoken Did you know? Well, fuck them if they have to ask. I have a bubble of anger. It’s a good feeling. Better than the rest, anyway.

In the end, Penny gave us all a half-day while she fielded phone calls from Lisa’s client list and did her best to reassure others. I didn’t ask her about Simon Manning and she didn’t mention him, as if by us staying silent he’ll stay too busy to notice. But Penny doesn’t know that Lisa – Charlotte. Charlotte, not Lisa – has been for dinner with him. Been on a date.

I asked Penny if she wanted a hand with the calls and she’d said no, it was best coming from her. It was probably true but she’d looked away awkwardly in a way that made me want to scream, ‘I am not Charlotte Nevill! I got fooled as much as all of you! I got fooled more!’ Only when I was gathering my coat and bag did she come out again.

‘I need to do a DBS check for you.’ She was hovering close to her door, clearly uncomfortable. ‘I never did a CRB when you and Lisa started here. I was so busy setting all this up, and I didn’t have any reason to … well, she was a single mother. Well-spoken. Good CV.’ She’d shrugged and I knew why she was so keen to lay all this to rest at work quickly. She could have prevented this. I felt sorry for her. She’s just opened a second branch, taken a financial gamble, and it could all get damaged because she didn’t do one criminal background check.

‘Sure,’ I’d answered. ‘I’ll do the form in the morning.’ As if there was no doubt that I’d come in. Good old reliable efficient Marilyn. Gold star for me.

‘Are you okay?’ she’d asked me. What could I say? I nodded and told her I was in shock like everyone else.

Up ahead, the light turns green but it takes someone angrily beeping their horn behind me until I move the car forward. My shock isn’t like everyone else’s. Not everyone else was Lisa’s best friend. I think again about that missed CRB. One small form would have changed everything. Lisa would probably never have taken the job – surely a fake identity still wouldn’t allow for a faked criminal record check. I would never have met her. Ten years of friendship would never have happened. This would never have happened. I try to unravel the past, removing Lisa from it, as I pull into the drive. I can’t. She’s so woven into me it’s impossible.

There are no press here yet, thank God. They’re probably still all over the school and Ava’s friends. Oh, poor Ava. They haven’t torn Lisa’s life far enough apart to get to me yet, but they will. Even as I mentally try to distance myself from her, the past floods back – Ava’s birthdays, laughing over Strictly Come Dancing while eating Chinese takeaways, wine after work. All so ordinary, and yet I loved it. I needed it.

Hot tears sting my face. How much of it was a lie? Where did Charlotte end and Lisa start? I can’t put them together as the same person. The evil child who did this terrible, shocking thing and the shy woman who quietly became so important to my life. Charlotte and Lisa. Lisa never existed, I tell myself again and feel a fresh wave of grief. No, she did exist but she wasn’t real. Now she’s gone and I’ll never see her again. I can’t help but mourn that, no matter how hard I pretend I’m fine. The illusions may be false, but the love is real.

Lisa was my best friend and I loved her. But what am I supposed to do with that? What does it say about me?

I shouldn’t be surprised, I think as I get wearily out of the car and see Richard’s Audi still parked up in front of the garage. I’ve made a habit of loving illusions. My ribs hurt. They’re not cracked this time, only bruised. Experience teaches you the different kinds of pain, but my back aches and a dark purple butterfly is forming on my left side.

You told Lisa your own lies, a little voice inside my head says. This perfect marriage she so admired. I silence the voice. That was different. That was private. I take a deep painful breath before opening the front door.

Only when Richard is fully asleep do I creep downstairs. He’s given me my phone back and the kitchen is spotless where he’s washed up and cleaned after the dinner he cooked. My nerves are zinging. Something here doesn’t add up. He doesn’t calm down this quickly – the hot rage is normally followed by at least twenty-four hours of the cold silent treatment. Only afterwards does the remorse and regret come, along with the turning around of events so that it’s somehow my fault because you know what I’m like. This is all far too quick.

It should concern me, but I’m too tired to think about what he might want as I put the kettle on. My head is filled with Lisa and my own shame at being the best friend who should have known. But as I stare at the knife block and think of Richard upstairs, I wonder how much it must take to drive a person to murder. God knows I should be close, but even with how much he’s beaten the love out of me, I couldn’t kill him. I notice there are more final demands in the bin as I tip the tea bag away. No, he shouldn’t be this calm yet.

I keep one eye on the stairs as I try Ava’s number again. I love Ava as much as I can imagine loving a child, a child I could never have, and I may not be able to love Lisa any more, but Ava can stay in my heart. I need something in my heart.