Friend Request(76)
‘So now you know. Whoever killed Sophie is the person who’s been messaging me. Which means it’s either someone who was around at the time, or… they never found Maria’s body. Do you understand now why I don’t want the police to make any more connections between me and Sophie than they have to? Why I don’t want them to know I spent the night in a hotel room with her boyfriend?’
‘I suppose so, but…’
‘And do you hate me?’ I ask, tears welling, ashamed at my childish need for reassurance.
‘For what you did to Maria? No, I don’t hate you. You were young. You made a bad decision, that’s all. That’s what people do when they’re young. Yes, it had catastrophic, unforeseeable consequences, but it was just a bad decision. I think you’ve probably paid for it, haven’t you?’ He takes my hand, eyes pleading. ‘But Louise, don’t you realise? This could get me off the hook. If you tell the police…’
I snatch my hand back as if he’s tried to bite it.
‘No. I told you, I can’t.’
‘And I understand that, I do. But you could just tell them about the messages from Maria, you don’t even need to say you bullied her, let alone go into the drink spiking.’
‘They’ll want to know why Maria has sought me out, what I did to her. They’ll ask questions I don’t want to answer.’
‘But the Ecstasy, you said the messages don’t mention that – the rest of it, it’s just schoolgirl stuff. Nothing to interest the police.’
‘But they’ll want to know what Maria is talking about, they’ll start digging it up. They’ll find her, or whoever’s sending the messages. Whoever it is knows what I did, and they’ll tell the police… I can’t bear it. You don’t understand.’
Sam understood. He was the only one who ever did, and part of me longs to be back there with him in our bubble; the two of us against the world, with the promise of his silence to protect me.
Pete turns away from me and puts his head in his hands.
‘You know that day in the café, when we agreed to keep quiet, not to tell the police?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I had another reason for wanting to steer clear of the police. When I was at university, there was this girl. We were friends, but she was… troubled, I suppose you’d say. She used to stay over in my room in halls, but nothing ever happened between us, although I think she wanted it to. Then one day, there was a knock on my door. It was the police. They said there had been an accusation, a serious sexual assault. It was her. She said I’d tried to… force her. You know. That I’d held her down, threatened to hurt her if she wouldn’t… But that she’d managed to get away before I could… you know.’ He has kept his gaze on the ground throughout this, but now he looks at me.
‘I was exonerated back then; there was no evidence, because I hadn’t done anything. But I know the police believed her and not me. They treated me like a piece of shit. And I heard the whispers in the corridors, felt the stares. And as for getting a girlfriend – well, no girl would come anywhere near me after that. And now I feel like it’s all happening again. I know what everyone’s thinking: Sophie and I argued, then I disappeared. There’s no smoke without fire. Please, Louise. You have to tell the police about the messages from Maria. They’ll be able to trace them. They can find out who’s really behind this.’
‘No,’ I say quietly. ‘They’ll want to know why I’ve been lying to them, why I didn’t tell them about the messages straight away. And anyway, I can’t. There may not be any evidence, but I’m not the only person who knows what happened at the leavers’ party. Whoever is sending those messages knows what I did. If I open the door to it, it’s all going to get out. You won’t be able to stop it. I could go to prison, lose my son.’
‘You wouldn’t go to prison, Louise. You’re blowing this out of proportion. Think about it.’
Is he right? Have I built this up so much that my mind is full of it, obscuring everything else? I’ve spent so many years hiding the truth that I don’t know what’s real any more. So many years with Sam, who knew what I had done and was as adamant as I was that we needed to keep it a secret. But maybe he was as blinkered as me, as unable as I was to think rationally about it.
Maybe; but for Henry’s sake, I need to be around. Even if the chance of being prosecuted for Maria’s death is miniscule, it’s a risk I can’t take.
‘No,’ I say. ‘We need to carry on as we are, keep our heads down.’
He shakes his head, refusing to look at me. I take a deep breath. There is a part of me that thought there was something between us – just a spark maybe, but one that could be coaxed into a flame one day. But what I’m about to say will extinguish that little light entirely.
‘Don’t forget the Travelodge,’ I say. ‘I’m keeping a secret about you too, remember?’
As I watch him walk away, I wonder whether I will ever be able to have a normal relationship, or if my past is going to taint every aspect of my future. It’s probably a good thing that he’s gone – at least it’s happened now, before I’ve had a chance to really get attached. It would have happened sooner or later.
I’m too mixed up, too dark; I’m just too alone to be with anyone else.