Final Cut(30)

‘How long has she run this place?’ I say, once we’re settled.

‘Beverly?’ He looks back to the bar. ‘About nine years now. Maybe ten.’

‘Right,’ I say. I find myself doing the maths; I can’t help it, it’s automatic. She must’ve taken over not long after I left.

‘She’s from here, then?’

‘Born ’n’ bred,’ he says. ‘Just like me.’

I go cold, despite the fire. But there are no signs either of them has recognised me. I look at Bryan and try to imagine him ten years ago. I can’t.

‘You okay?’ he says.

I look away and tell him I’m fine.

‘Shit!’ he says. ‘I nearly forgot! Your car. It’s done.’ He fishes clumsily in a pocket and hands me the keys. ‘I parked it up top.’

I grin with relief. I can escape now. I don’t have to rely on taxi drivers who take off on a whim and leave me stranded.

‘Great! Thanks. How much—?’

He waves me away. ‘Let’s sort it out next time, eh?’

He thinks there’ll be another time, then. It won’t be so bad; he seems nice enough. I’m about to tell him how grateful I am when he fixes me with a stare.

‘I wanted to ask you something.’

Suddenly, I feel pierced, right through to my core.

‘Those films … The one with Button and Kat—’

‘Button?’

‘Sorry. Ellie. It’s a nickname.’ He hesitates. ‘They’re eating chips.’

I sip my drink.

‘What about it?’

‘Well … You must know what I mean?’

I smile. ‘The joint? Not that unusual, I guess—’

He laughs. ‘No! Not that! We’re more bothered about someone sneaking around filming teenage girls.’

‘We?’

‘Me and a couple of the fellas. Y’know? Any idea who it is?’

I shake my head. ‘We said that the films should be sent anonymously.’ I hesitate. I wonder if this is why he was keen to buy me a drink. ‘You think something’s going on?’

‘What makes you say that?’

I lower my voice. ‘I saw Kat getting a tattoo. She looked … I dunno. Scared. And she had two phones.’

‘So?’

‘Like a burner.’

‘A what?’

‘A burner phone,’ I tell him. ‘You know. Cheap. Pay-as-you-go. Easily replaced.’

‘Why would she have that?’

I shrug. ‘Usually it’s to do with drugs.’

‘Not Kat,’ he says.

‘Or, you know … if there’s a boyfriend that needs to get hold of her, even if her parents confiscate her mobile.’

He laughs. ‘Not Kat, either. How come you know so much?’

I think of the girls in Black Winter. I think of their burner phones, and of my own.

‘I’ve been around,’ I say. ‘Tell me about David.’

He puts down his drink. ‘Listen,’ he says. ‘I’d love to help, but, well … we don’t want all that raked up again. Not after last time.’

‘What d’you mean? All what?’

‘All that stuff about Daisy and whatnot.’

‘What’s that got to do with David?’

He lowers his head.

‘Nothing.’

‘No,’ I say. ‘Come on. I mentioned David and you started talking about Daisy. What is it?’

‘David … well, he … he kind of had a breakdown. Just after Daisy killed herself. He’d been okay before then – I mean, odd, but friendly enough. Then he just kind of disappeared. When we did see him in town he was acting weird. He’d come in ’ere and not speak. Just sit on his own, watching people. Muttering to himself. It was freaky. He even got into a fight. He just started on this guy. I don’t remember who, now. But it was over nothing. He lost of course, got smacked in the face then ran off. Then, when Zoe went, he got worse. Smashed his car up. Drove into a tree. There were rumours it was deliberate.’

‘He tried to kill himself?’

‘That’s what people said.’

But he told me he didn’t know Zoe, I think. I almost say it out loud. Again, I wonder whether it’s time to approach Zoe’s parents, despite Gavin’s warning. It’s easier now I have my own car. I needn’t tell anyone.

‘Do you think he was involved?’

‘David?’ He picks up his glass and takes a swig. ‘I mean, he’s always been odd. But I like him.’

‘But how well d’you know him?’

‘Well enough to have a key to his place,’ he says. ‘I look after it when he’s away, stuff like that. It’s just … well, some folk were being pretty nasty to him. After first Daisy, then Zoe, I suppose they put two and two together. No smoke without fire, an’ all that. Painted stuff on his car, smashed his windows.’ He sits back in the seat. ‘Anyway …’

‘Why’re you telling me? If you don’t think I should be putting any of this in my film?’

‘I dunno.’ He puts his glass down clumsily. ‘You seem like a good sort. And it’s obvious you care. About the girls.’ He sighs heavily. ‘Maybe I’m secretly hoping someone can find out what went on. Just … don’t make us look bad, y’know? In your film.’ He gestures to the half-empty pub. ‘Things are hard enough for folk as it is.’