The Therapist(84)

My cheeks burn when I think of them laughing at me behind my back. What Tamsin said about me getting a life – it hurt more than anything because she was right about that too. I haven’t really had a life since my parents and sister died. It’s why I launched myself so fervently into helping Thomas and Helen. I needed something in my life, something to make me feel alive, make me feel that I was doing some good because most of the time, I just exist. But I’ve taken it too far. When I think of Leo and Thomas, both of whom are trying, at this very moment, to find out if Ben had something to do with Nina’s murder, I’m scared. I need to tell them to stop.

I get a grip by thinking about Nina – my sister, not Nina Maxwell. I can almost hear her telling me to stop feeling sorry for myself, to accept that I had a kind of brain-storm, and move on. She’s right, I need to move on. By the time I get home, it will be almost three o’clock. I’ll just have time to throw the rest of my stuff into a case before Thomas arrives. In a couple of hours, I’ll be on my way to Harlestone, and Nina Maxwell and my time in The Circle will just be a memory.





Forty-Two


I start walking back to the house, part of me wanting to blame Leo for what happened at the brasserie. If he had been upfront with me about the murder, I would never have come here. The only good thing to have come out of my time in The Circle is Thomas – if our friendship manages to survive when there isn’t the investigation to bind us together. It worries me that it might not.

My phone rings. I take it from my bag, hoping it will be Thomas. It is. I stop walking and move to the side.

‘Alice. Am I disturbing your lunch?’

‘No, I’m on my way back to the house.’ I press a finger to my other ear, shutting out the noise so that I can hear him better.

‘Good. Would you believe that one of your neighbours was in Paris at the time of Marion Cartaux’s murder?’

My heart plummets. ‘I’m not sure I want to know who.’

‘Don’t worry too much, because her murderer is behind bars, awaiting trial. He gave himself up a few months ago.’

‘Oh. Well, that’s good, isn’t it?’

‘Normally, I’d say yes. But not everyone thinks that he did it. He’s an SDF – a homeless person – who had been out of prison for a year at the time of the murder. Unfortunately, there are more cases than the judiciary would like of homeless people pleading guilty to just about anything so that they can get back inside. Being on the streets is far more frightening to them than being in prison.’

‘But he might have done it.’

‘We’ll only be sure after his trial, once his account of events has been verified.’

‘So, which of my neighbours was in Paris at the time of the murder?’ I ask.

‘William Jackman.’

I close my eyes. ‘I wish I hadn’t discovered that gap in the fence between our gardens.’

‘It doesn’t mean anything yet. I thought I’d let you know, that’s all. Did you manage to get the name of Nina’s therapist?’

‘No, but it was a man. And she didn’t go to him, he came to see her. That’s not very usual, is it?’

‘No, it isn’t. But without a name, there’s not much we can do.’ There’s a pause. ‘Are you alright? You sound a bit down.’

‘Let’s just say lunch didn’t go according to plan. I’m glad I’m leaving today. It’s the right decision.’

‘Would you rather I didn’t come over? You must have a lot to do before you leave.’

‘I just need to throw some clothes into a case. I’ll come and get the rest of my stuff another time. So please do come over. It will be nice to see you.’

‘If you’re sure.’

‘I am.’

‘I’ll see you in around an hour, then.’

I’ve barely hung up when my phone starts ringing again. It’s Tamsin. I give an angry laugh and let it ring out. It’s taken Eve and Maria thirty minutes to persuade her to phone and apologise, because I’m sure that’s why she called. The phone starts ringing again, another call from Tamsin. I let it ring out again and a minute or so later, I get a message telling me I have a voicemail. I’m in no mood to listen to it, nor to the next voicemail she leaves me.

Five minutes later, it’s Eve who calls. I’m still sore that she didn’t say a word to defend me so I don’t answer her either. I know I’m being unfair; she and Tamsin have been friends for years, it’s normal she would take Tamsin’s side. But I don’t want to speak to her, especially now that I know Will was in Paris at the time of Marion Cartaux’s murder. Thomas said it probably doesn’t mean anything. But still.

I reach The Circle and trudge across the square to the house. School has finished for the day, so there are quite a few people heading towards the play area. Although there’s a chill in the air, the sun is out and despite everything, I smile to see children clambering over the wooden climbing frames. The rest of the square is deserted. As I go through the gate opposite the house, I see Edward going into his garage and give him a wave. My eyes are drawn involuntarily to Maria and Tim’s house; once again, Tim is standing at the upstairs window. He gives me a wave and I wave back. It’s funny that he doesn’t try and hide the fact that he’s watching the square. Most people, even though they’re doing nothing wrong, would jump back guiltily, or at least turn away once they’ve waved. But he just carries on watching.