Then She Vanishes(56)

I haven’t heard from Margot since I saw her at the hospital on Friday. But I need to make contact – I don’t want us to lose touch now that Heather is awake.

As Jack leaves the office for the day he touches my shoulder in sympathy as he passes but doesn’t say anything. We’re all conscious of the black cloud hanging over the office, like cigarette smoke, and I’m sure Ted’s watching my every move. I was always worried that he thought I was a liability after what happened at the Tribune. But now I realize he hired me because of that. As long as I stay on the right side of the law he’s obviously happy for me to push boundaries. But how can I when I like Margot and don’t want to upset her? She’s like … I gulp, realizing how true this is. She’s like family to me. She’s been more of a mother to me than my own. How will she react when I tell her about Adam being seen with Clive? And then another thought hits me: does Margot already know? Is she pretending she has no idea why Heather killed the Wilsons? Is she protecting her?





30




Jess


The café is empty, apart from a young couple sitting in the window holding hands, and Leo. He’s at a table in a corner, stirring a latte in a glass cup. He looks up as I walk through the door and I recognize him straight away. He still has his dark brown David Essex-style hair, with just a few greys threaded through the front, and his tanned skin, which has always been craggy, appears to have just a few new lines. It strikes me – probably for the first time – how handsome he is. I didn’t notice it back then: he was just my best friend’s uncle. I thought of him as ancient, although he wouldn’t have been much older than I am now.

He stands up when he sees me and his smile lights his sparkly green eyes. I go over to him and he pulls me into a hug. ‘It’s so lovely to see you, Jess,’ he says, grazing my hot cheek with his lips. He smells musky. Then he moves me gently so that I’m at arm’s length from him and his eyes sweep over me. ‘And look how beautiful you turned out to be.’

Still a charmer. No wonder he always managed to get the women. I remember the rumours about him even then, whispers of how he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

I know a secret about him. Heather does too. I doubt she would have forgotten it.

We saw him once snogging a girl from Flora’s form at school when she’d been in year eleven. Her name was Deborah Price and she’d only just turned fifteen. They’d been down on the beach, almost hidden behind one of the dunes, when we’d stumbled upon them. She had a bikini on and his hands were all over her. Leo would have been thirty-six. And, okay, she had a reputation for sleeping around and looked older than her years with a very curvy figure. But still. He should have known better. She was under age. We never told anyone although even then we’d known there was something unsavoury about it. He’d leaped away from her when he spotted us and tried to pretend it wasn’t what it looked like. But we’d seen too much.

We never mentioned it again, even to each other.

After Flora disappeared, Leo was arrested but Hayley gave him an alibi. I heard they split up not long after.

If I wrote a story about him now, would I reveal this secret? It would certainly add fuel to the fire and I know that’s what Ted would want me to do. But it would hurt Margot and Heather. If it was another family I’d do it in a heartbeat.

Leo asks what I’d like to drink and calls the young waitress over. I order a caramel latte, then pull out the chair opposite him and slide into it, shrugging off my coat.

‘So, Jess. I’m intrigued. Why did you want to meet after all these years?’ He leans forwards and gazes at me intently. A lock of hair falls into his eyes and I’m momentarily disarmed.

‘Um. Actually,’ I say, when I’ve recovered, ‘it’s a bit awkward.’ I can feel myself blushing. This is ridiculous.

He leans back in his chair and I notice a hint of a smirk he’s trying to hide. Shit! He thinks I’ve called him out of the blue to hook up. Inwardly I squirm. ‘I’m a reporter,’ I blurt out.

The smile disappears from his face and he sits up straighter. ‘A reporter?’

‘I’m covering the story of the shootings. And Heather …’

He fiddles with the handle of his cup, averting his eyes. ‘So why do you want to see me? I’ve tried to keep out of it.’

‘She’s your niece.’

He lifts his eyes to mine. ‘I’m well aware of that.’ His voice has lost its previous warmth.

‘And Margot. She needs you. After everything she’s been through …’

He holds up his hand. ‘You know nothing about it.’

‘Of course I do,’ I say hotly. ‘I’ve been in touch with Margot. She means a lot to me.’

He sighs. ‘Not again.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You. The way you were back then. You were obsessed with Flora, Margot and Heather. You couldn’t keep away. They might as well have adopted you.’

I shift in my seat, uncomfortable. Was it that obvious? My need for them then? I’d thought I’d hidden a lot from them, like how often I was on my own, how occasionally Mum wouldn’t even come home at all, preferring to stay over at her new boyfriend’s house, or have a drink with a friend, leaving me alone for a few days. But then, at other times, she’d want to spend all Sunday with me, curled up on the sofa watching old black-and-white films on TV and eating chocolate. Those were some of my favourite times, just the two of us. ‘It’s not like that. Not now.’ I don’t need anyone now, I add silently. I rely on myself.