Then She Vanishes(98)

‘Nah. He stalked off when I wouldn’t tell him anything.’

I smile at him, overwhelmed by fondness for this man whom I’ve talked to every day for the last nine months but don’t really know. ‘Thank you.’

He grins. ‘Any time.’

‘So, what’s the big secret?’ I ask Jack, as we sit at a table in the café near the top of Park Street.

He fiddles with his paper napkin. ‘I’m leaving.’

I stare at him, speechless, the glass of elderflower cordial nearly slipping out of my hand. ‘But – but why?’

‘I’m going back to Brighton. Got a job on the Argus. I miss my home town, Jess. I’m sorry. And, also, it’s as a reporter.’

A reporter? I knew it. Has he been tipping off Harriet Hill? Would he do that? Undermine me? No. I can’t believe he would.

‘I’ve been earning extra cash selling contact details to the nationals,’ he adds, his cheeks flushed. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Jess.’

I shrug. ‘There’s no law against it.’

‘I thought it could be a way in, that’s all.’

‘But what about Finn? Will he move to Brighton with you?’

‘We’re over.’

Again, I’m reeling. ‘What? When?’

‘I’m sorry I haven’t been myself for the last few weeks. Finn, well, he turned out to be a knob.’ He smiles sadly.

I’ve always thought so but I’ve never admitted that to Jack. ‘In what way?’

He leans back in his chair and stretches his long legs out underneath the table. ‘Urgh. You name it. Controlling. Bullying. Possessive.’ He ticks them off on his fingers. ‘And then …’ He glances at me, almost shyly.

‘What?’

‘He started to get violent. It began with a slap across the face, then a punch to the thigh. But lately he’d just fly into these jealous rages. That night when we met up, I didn’t get mugged. It was Finn. He punched me because he was jealous. He said he noticed a …’ he adopts a silly French accent ‘… frisson between us. He was convinced something was going on.’

I can’t help but laugh, the idea is so ludicrous. ‘Uh … Hello, you’re gay!’

‘I know.’ He sighs. ‘But I’ve …’ he lowers his voice and glances around the café ‘… slept with women before.’

‘So he thought we were sleeping together? Oh, my God, Jack!’

‘I know.’ He stares down at his gourmet cheese and chutney sandwich. I’ve ordered the same yet neither of us has taken a bite yet. ‘The awful thing was, he hated me having any friends, male or female, because he was convinced I’d end up sleeping with them.’

I’m suddenly full of rage at the thought of Finn beating up my lovely friend. ‘What a bastard! You should report him, Jack. Seriously.’

He hangs his head. ‘I can’t.’

‘It’s wrong. He deserves to be prosecuted.’ I remember how subdued Jack had become, how he’d flinch if I touched him. I wonder how long it had been going on.

He looks shamefaced. ‘But it sounds ridiculous. I’m six foot five, taller than him. I’m –’

‘No!’ I slam my fist on the table, causing our plates to jump. ‘For fuck’s sake. It’s assault. And a police officer, too!’ A police officer. ‘Wait. Was it him?’

Jack opens his sandwich and begins picking the lettuce out of it. ‘Was what him?’

‘Stan said some bloke had been asking after me. He said he thought it might have been a police officer.’

Jack’s head shoots up. ‘What?’

‘And the photos on my car.’

‘What photos on your car?’

With everything that’s been going on, I haven’t even had the chance to tell Jack all about it. But as I explain I notice his face pales. ‘What is it, Jack?’

‘I found a photograph of you. In our bedroom.’ His gaze goes to my coat hanging over the back of my chair. ‘You’re wearing that coat in it. I asked Finn about it. He said it was mine. Accused me of taking it because I fancied you.’ He shakes his head in disbelief. ‘Shit. What a bastard.’

He must have scaled the gate to get to my car. He’s certainly strong enough.

I reach over and squeeze his hand. ‘I’m so sorry.’ ‘Back off’ makes sense now. Not someone warning me off the story, but a jealous lover warning me off their boyfriend. ‘Have you moved out?’

‘Finn left yesterday. He’s staying with …’ he rolls his eyes ‘… Harriet Hill of all people. Oh, yes, it seems the two of them have struck up a friendship.’

‘Harriet Hill? I – I just can’t –’ We burst out laughing at the absurdity of it. ‘Hey,’ I say, a thought striking me. ‘You don’t think he’s “the source”, do you? We wondered how she was getting all her stories.’

His eyes widen. ‘Of course! What a wanker! He’d have knowledge of the case through his job. And then he fed the information back to her.’

‘So much for his I don’t give tip-offs because it’s unprofessional crap.’ I mimic Finn’s voice. ‘He wanted to make me look bad, no doubt, by giving her all the good stuff.’