Just Like the Other Girls(77)

I shake my head to silence her. ‘No. I am involved. You know why.’

‘I don’t want to put you in danger.’

‘I could be in danger anyway.’

‘Do you feel safe at the house?’

I admit that I do. ‘Kathryn doesn’t like me, that much is clear. And there’ve been a few occasions when I felt like I was being followed.’ I tell her about the night Vince followed me from the pub. ‘You don’t think he’d hurt Una, do you?’

She splutters on her drink. ‘Vince? No. He loved her.’

‘Didn’t you say he stole from her? If he killed her, he’d never have to pay her back.’

‘But why would he kill Jemima? And Matilde?’

I sit back in my chair. ‘True.’

‘And I’ve known Vince for years. I can’t imagine him hurting anyone. Not physically anyway.’

We look up as Peter walks in. He’s wearing the same mustard jacket he had on the last time. I notice how Courtney’s face brightens when she sees him. He looks as though he’s bursting to tell us something. He fetches himself a pint, then joins us.

I don’t know whether to mention the coat and that I’d said dark clothing. But before I have the chance to speak he blurts out, ‘I had a visit from the police. I know what they said to you, Courtney, and that we didn’t think they were doing anything, but they are. They’re working hard behind the scenes. They told me they have CCTV images of the bridge.’

‘The bridge?’ Courtney asks. ‘The suspension bridge?’

He nods like an eager puppy. I’ve never seen him so animated. ‘Yep. The bridge has CCTV. I never knew that. It’s been hard for them to detect anything because of the fog on the night Una died, but they’ve seen Jemima was with someone on the bridge that night. And it looks as though they were having an argument. Whoever it was, she knew them.’

‘What about the van?’ says Courtney.

‘What van?’ I ask.

Peter fills me in. ‘But the number-plate was obscured, which makes the police think whoever harmed Jemima planned it.’

I’m speechless. And so is Courtney. We both stare at him with our mouths hanging open and I feel a stab of panic. Maybe I am in danger at the McKenzie house, after all.

‘I knew it,’ he adds. ‘I knew she’d never kill herself.’

‘But,’ I say, when I find my voice, ‘she died at the end of December. It’s taken them three months to work this out?’

He shuffles out of his coat. ‘They said something about the glare of the LED lights on the bridge and the weather conditions. She was too far away from the cameras for them to make out exactly what happened, but the fact that there was someone on the bridge with her has made them look more closely into what happened to her and Una.’

‘And the other girl. Matilde?’

He looks doubtful. ‘I’m not sure about that. That might just have been an unfortunate accident. Very different circumstances. But both Jemima and Una died while they were on the suspension bridge.’

‘And did they say anything about Una?’ Courtney asks, hope in her voice.

‘No. They told me about Jemima only because I’m her next of kin.’ He grabs Courtney’s hand and squeezes it. ‘But they’ll find a connection. After this, they can’t think that what happened to Una was an accident.’

Courtney flushes. ‘That’s true. It was foggy the night Una died, though. Will they be able to see anything?’

‘I’m not sure,’ says Peter. I notice his hand is still on Courtney’s. Then, as if he senses me looking, he takes his hand away and sips his pint.

‘Could they tell if it was a man or a woman?’ I ask.

He shakes his head. ‘Someone tall. Taller than Jemima anyway. Wearing a long black coat and trousers. The hood was pulled up on the coat. They suspect a man but they’re not ruling out a woman.’





36





Courtney

Courtney follows the others, heart pounding. Willow is striding out in front. She’s loving this, being the leader, the drama of it all. Courtney can’t help but worry that Willow isn’t taking it as seriously as she should be. After what Peter said tonight, it sounds as though their suspicions are correct, that Jemima and Una were murdered, and Willow could be in danger.

A lump had formed in her throat when Peter imparted his news and it hasn’t left. She has to concentrate on not crying, on not thinking about Una alone on the bridge. Alone and vulnerable in that fog, believing she was meeting Peter but instead being lured to her death. The other day it hit her, like it often does, as though for the first time, and she’d raged and thrown things in the flat, scaring Kris, eventually collapsing in a heap of angry tears on the sofa. Una was so kind, so good. And she’d had such a shit time of it, first losing her mum, then Vince, and she’d handled it all so bravely.

‘She’s with her mum now,’ Kris had said, sitting beside her and awkwardly patting her shoulder, which had just made Courtney cry even more. What did Kris know about any of it? He’s never lost anyone. How can he begin to understand the heavy pressure of grief that sits permanently on her chest.

Peter is next to her, his yellow coat making him stand out, like a beacon of light, in the darkness. She knows he must understand exactly how she’s feeling, having lost a loved one too.