He Said/She Said(60)

‘This is bullshit,’ I said. ‘Anyone who knew you could recognise you from that.’

‘You don’t need to tell me,’ said Beth bitterly. ‘They might as well have taken out a front-page advert in The Times. You should’ve been there when I went shopping with Mum yesterday. It was like the parting of the Red Sea, just backs and shoulders in every aisle.’

‘Who gave them the pictures?’ asked Kit.

‘One of my oldest friends, can you believe it? The first one’s in a club in Nottingham, the second one was a summer job selling tequila shots at a local festival. I remember Tess taking the pictures. She’s the last person I’d have thought would do something like this. She’s broken my heart.’

She started to cry and something inside me lashed out at Tess.

‘Oh, Beth, that’s shitty.’ I remembered a picture Ling had once taken of me; raving in jeans and a bikini top, mouth open, pill on my tongue, a gift to anyone who wanted to smear me. We’d had it stuck on the fridge in our old flat, taken down when parents came to visit. When you’re young, you don’t think about consequences.

‘You said they can’t libel an anonymous person but you’re not anonymous in these, are you?’ said Kit. He was speaking almost to himself, chewing over the legal ramifications. ‘They must be in contempt of court, identifying you like this. This is a massive own goal, surely. Have you got legal representation?’

‘Yes,’ sighed Beth. ‘My dad’s geriatric solicitor is on the case. He reckons he can get them to take it down, but the damage is done. People know.’ She flopped down suddenly. ‘The ripples just keep coming and coming at me. I don’t just mean the appeal hanging over my head although that’s bad enough, but the things people say. Yesterday, in the Co-op, a girl I’ve known since I was four said that if I went on my own to a festival what did I expect? And this woman’s our age, she’s normal, she drinks, she’s no virgin. She’s the last person you’d think.’ She looked around our flat, at the eclipse map, at me, at Kit, and then fixed her eyes on the view across the common. ‘Right now, this flat feels like the only place in the world where I can be believed. I need to get the fuck away from there. I can’t bear to watch my parents staying strong for me when they’re falling apart over all this. And I can’t make a life there, not now.’

‘Stay here,’ I said. ‘For a couple of nights. Till it dies down.’

‘Do you mean it?’ she said. You’d have to know Kit as well as I did to tell what he was thinking: the closer you get to this girl, the more dangerous it is at a retrial. But quickly, before Beth could see, he flicked on a grin and I knew he wouldn’t rescind the invitation. He was doing it for me, not her.

‘Sure,’ Kit said, closing the laptop with a bang.

‘Oh, thank you,’ said Beth. Her tears stopped abruptly, like her stopcock had been turned off. ‘What would I do without you both?’





Chapter 31





LAURA

30 May 2000

‘What are you doing?’ whispered Beth, as I tiptoed up the stairs and tried to sneak past her. It was a Saturday, and we’d all slept in. I thought I’d heard the clatter of the letterbox from my pillow. Since Jamie had starting writing to me, I’d got into the habit of being first down to the doormat in the mornings. I couldn’t risk Kit intercepting a letter from prison. I sat on the edge of the futon, a bank statement and a pizza leaflet in my hand.

‘I just like to be the first one to pick the letters up,’ I said. ‘It’s just a thing I do. Like a routine. A sort of comfort thing.’ I was over-explaining it, while not explaining it at all.

‘Oh,’ said Beth. ‘That’s . . . nice.’

‘Morning.’ Kit hovered awkwardly in our bedroom doorway. I’d tried to shut it behind me but it had bounced on its hinge as usual. ‘God, it’s late.’

‘I’m going into London today,’ said Beth purposefully. ‘Things to do.’

‘I thought you didn’t know anyone in the city,’ said Kit.

‘I don’t.’ She smiled. ‘That’s the appeal. I can do normal things without worrying that everyone’s talking about me. I can walk up Oxford Street and not know a soul.’

After breakfast, we leaned over the balcony and watched her go, in a daffodil sundress and those same old silver Chipies she’d worn in Cornwall.

‘How long does she expect to stay here?’ said Kit, grinning through gritted teeth as she turned and waved.

‘I have no idea,’ I said. ‘But you can see how much she needs us. And I can’t chuck her out after what she’s been through.’ Kit knuckled his eyes. ‘I’m not asking you to. It’s just, the timing’s not ideal, is it, to have to stand on ceremony in my own house.’

‘She’s only been here like four nights. God, Kit. You act like I’m choosing her over you. It’s not an either/or situation.’

Anger rippled beneath the surface of his face. ‘Isn’t it?’

I exploded. ‘D’you know what? If you don’t develop a bit of fucking empathy, it might be.’

The plum half-moons under his bloodshot eyes seemed to darken and I wished I could take it back. I took in for the first time how awful he was looking, how uncared-for. He’d had the same T-shirt on for days and his hair was starting to curl at the collar. He turned his gaze towards the common.