Then She Vanishes(16)

‘The kettle’s just boiled,’ says Margot to Adam, her cheek resting on Ethan’s hair.

Adam goes to the kettle to make himself a coffee. I don’t know what to say so I pick up my cup again, sip my tea and wait. The tension feels too thick and I know it’s down to my presence. What I can’t understand is why. He doesn’t know I’m a journalist yet. Is this what he’s always like? Or is grief making him act this way?

‘Have they all gone?’ Margot asks Adam, as he pulls out a chair next to me. His hands are red and raw as he cups the mug. It’s unusually cold for March, even with all the rain we’ve been having.

‘The vultures?’

Margot nods, not looking at me.

‘Yep. Thank God. I don’t know what you said to make them bugger off. Maybe they’ve gone home for their tea.’

‘Jessica got rid of them for us.’

Adam turns to me, expression quizzical. ‘And how did you manage that?’

I push down my unease. ‘I’m a journalist too,’ I say, in a voice that belies my apprehension.

‘Of course you fucking are!’ he says quietly, menacingly, into his mug.

‘Adam,’ Margot warns, ‘little ears.’ She covers Ethan’s with her hands to make her point. I can’t believe Heather has chosen to spend her life with this bullish man. She’d had a huge crush on River Phoenix when we were teenagers: she’d imagined him to be sensitive and artistic. The fact he died young only romanticized him in her eyes. Adam couldn’t be more different.

His eyes flash at Margot. ‘Why have you let her in, Marg, when she’s one of them?’

‘I’m not here to do any harm,’ I insist. ‘Heather was my friend.’

He glares at me. ‘You lot never print the truth. You twist everything and you’ll twist this.’ He turns back to Margot. ‘Don’t trust her. You can’t trust any of them.’

‘Listen,’ I say, trying to keep my voice steady and firm. ‘If you don’t tell your side of the story then someone somewhere will print what they want. They’ll dig and they’ll find stuff. They always do. But if you talk to me …’ I ignore the grunts ‘… if you talk to me then it will be your side of the story. I’ll print exactly what you want me to print. An exclusive.’

He laughs cruelly. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you listening to this, Marg? Don’t tell me you’re taken in by her.’

‘I won’t print anything about Heather or the family without you reading it first,’ I promise, desperate to say, to do anything to make him trust me, even though it goes against my normal practice.

‘You don’t understand,’ he says carefully. ‘I don’t want anything in the papers about us. Full stop.’

I slap my hand against the wooden surface of the table. ‘And you don’t understand. It will get in the papers whether you want it to or not. For crying out loud, it’s already in them!’

We stare at each other. My heart feels like it’s going to leap out of my chest. He breaks eye contact first, slumping back in his chair. Margot assesses us silently, rocking Ethan backwards and forwards in her arms. I wonder what she’s thinking. But I’ve already noticed a thaw in her since I sent the rest of the reporters packing.

Adam places his head in his hands and groans. ‘I just can’t believe we’re in this situation,’ he says, his deep voice muffled between his fingers.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I say gently, relieved that he’s calmer. ‘I haven’t seen Heather for years, but this seems unbelievable to me. Completely out of character. Have you …’ I dart a look at Margot ‘… have you wondered if there could be some mistake? Was it definitely Heather who did this?’

Margot’s face hardens again. ‘That’s what the police believe. There were eye witnesses … and they’re more or less sure that her own gunshot wound was self-inflicted.’

‘More or less sure?’ I ask. ‘Is there any doubt?’

Adam interrupts. ‘There is no doubt,’ he snaps. Why do I get the impression he’s hiding something?

Ethan starts to whimper, fidgeting and trying to get down from Margot’s lap. Adam stands up. ‘He needs to go to bed,’ he says, taking him from Margot. ‘But we can carry on this conversation later, Marg. Alone.’ He shoots me a look before turning back to Margot. ‘Don’t make any decisions yet.’

He stalks off, Ethan in his arms, without saying goodbye to me, the back door banging behind him.

The sky has darkened and Margot glances anxiously out the window. ‘I’d better get the horses in. It looks like it’s going to be another bad night.’ Then she sighs heavily. ‘I’m sorry about Adam. Underneath all that … brusqueness, he’s a nice guy. He’s a good husband and father.’

I’m not sure I believe that. He seems threatening and aggressive to me but I don’t say so. Instead I try to look understanding. ‘It’s a stressful time for you all.’

To my horror, Margot’s face crumples and she pulls out a tissue from the sleeve of her jumper. ‘I can’t lose Heather as well,’ she says, tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘I don’t know how I’d bear it.’