The Girl Who Came Back (30 page)

‘Of course,’ Malinda said kindly. ‘She’ll be fine here with us. We’ve got a nice cup of tea on the way, Marsha, and I expect you’ll want a slice of the lovely carrot cake someone brought in …’

Weighted with guilt and self-loathing Jules took off along the corridor, promising herself she’d come back later when she’d managed to get a grip – and thanking God for the angels who cared for her mother so much better than she ever could.

Jules had no idea what she was doing here, what kind of madness had made her turn her car in this direction when she’d left Greensleeves. She only knew that she hadn’t wanted to go home, or into town, or anywhere that might have actually made some sort of sense.

As if this did.

She was parked in the shade of a sprawling sycamore tree diagonally opposite the black wooden gates to Crofton Park. The gates she and Kian had tried so desperately to get through the night Daisy was murdered.

She sat motionless, expressionless, staring at the stillness and trying not to torment herself with images of Kian blithely dropping Daisy off and driving away. It could have happened yesterday, or last week, or maybe she was plucking it from a dream.

If only.

Sunlight was streaking through the trees that spilled over the Park’s walls, casting dappled pools amongst the shadows in the street. Jules barely noticed. Since Daisy had gone nature had lost its lustre; all pleasures, along with hope and understanding, had fallen away like autumn leaves to be trampled, turned to mulch in a sodden ditch.

Amelia Quentin belonged in a ditch, one so deep and clogged that she would never have been able to find her way out. Instead she was behind those walls enjoying the luxury of her father’s home, tasting the heady delights of freedom, soaking up the promise of a future that held all the options she was apparently going to take some time to consider.

Hatred, resentment, the need to hurt, even destroy the girl, were burning holes all the way through Jules.

Why should Amelia Quentin have the right to anything at all after what she’d done? If she’d belonged to any other family she’d have been charged with murder and so would be serving a mandatory life sentence now. There’d have been no easy open prison, no privileges, or early release, and God knew she wouldn’t have been able to stage that appalling show she’d put on for the cameras last week.

Jules wondered bitterly if Amelia ever thought about Daisy, and if she did how she felt. Dismissive? Triumphant? Was she capable of guilt or remorse?

I forgive them for the way they treated me and bear them no ill will.

Jules’s head went down as longing for Daisy overwhelmed her. How could anyone measure the depth of pain and suffering of someone being frenziedly hacked to death? How long had it taken? Had Amelia been sure Daisy was dead before she stopped, or had she simply run out of strength?

She wanted to ask Amelia why she thought she’d had the right to take Daisy’s life. What sense of entitlement, outrage, self-pity even, had made her force Daisy, and her family, to pay such a terrible price for such a small offence?

Whatever the answers, the girl would never have been able to justify what she’d done, so maybe Jules didn’t want to ask after all. She only wanted to make Amelia pay …

Hearing a motorbike approaching she glanced in her wing mirror and watched it pass, expecting it to carry on around the bend. Instead it slowed to a halt as it reached the Park gates.

Sinking lower in her seat she kept her eyes on the rider as he took off his helmet, shook out his hair and used a booted foot to press the entryphone bell. It was the young man who’d met Amelia from prison.

Come to be paid for his part in the show? Or was he really a friend?

A few moments later the gates slid apart, and he roared off along the drive.

By the time the engine noise died the gates were closing again. There had been plenty of time for Jules to follow, had she wanted to, but she wasn’t ready for a confrontation yet. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be, if it was even what she wanted, but knowing how long the gates took to close felt like useful information to tuck away.

She should have left then, should have taken herself home to try and clear her head, or back to Greensleeves to check on her mother, but for some reason she stayed where she was.

Several minutes ticked by, a couple of cars swept past, the birds continued to sing, and a squirrel darted across the top of the gates to disappear into the trees. Everything was so perfect, so tranquil. No one would ever have guessed that a killer was in the vicinity, hidden like a predator in the bush, or an odourless poison in the air.

Jules suddenly noticed that the gates were starting to open again.

Quickly ducking into the shade of the passenger seat, she watched as an open-topped BMW with Amelia at the wheel and the young man beside her swept out into the lane and on around the bend.

Immediately starting her car, Jules crunched it into gear and took off after them. She had no idea why she was doing this, what she hoped to gain by it, she simply felt compelled to follow, as if their destination might in some way provide her with information she needed to know.

Fifteen minutes later, as they turned left off the moor into the upper reaches of Kesterly, Jules’s heart rose into her mouth. They were heading down the hill towards the Risings. Surely to God they weren’t intending to drop in on her? Was Stephie there? What would she do if she opened the door and found her best friend’s killer in the porch?

It would terrify her.

It was already terrifying Jules, until the BMW sailed on down the hill and she remembered that Amelia didn’t know where she lived.

Or she shouldn’t, but how could anyone be sure about that?

It was when they reached the bottom of the hill, where the road curved around to the right to carry on along the coast into Kesterly, that Jules realised where Amelia and her passenger were going.

She could hardly believe it, couldn’t even bear the thought of it. The brazenness, the sheer horror of such gall was stifling her breath. They were out of sight now, because they’d already taken the spur road to the left, the one that led straight into the heart of Hope Cove.

Driving on past, she pulled into a layby and dropped her head on to the steering wheel. She felt nauseous, panicked, like she wanted to scream or yell or bang her fists into Amelia’s hateful face – or stab a knife into the very heart of her.

How could she? What kind of sick person could go to the home of the girl she’d killed as though she might actually be welcome, or as if it were some kind of fond trip down memory lane? What the hell was wrong with the girl? What was she trying to prove? No normal person would even think about going into the cove, never mind actually set foot in it after the chaos and heartbreak they’d caused there.

There was no doubt in Jules’s mind that Misty and Marco would throw the pair straight out again, but she took out her mobile anyway, intending to call Misty, until she realised she didn’t want anyone to know that she’d been following Amelia. For the same reason she couldn’t call Andee either, to ask about Amelia’s parole conditions. And though she was sorely tempted to involve Danny she quickly reminded herself that nothing good would come of it if she did.

Besides, if anyone was going to avenge Daisy’s killing it would be her.

In the end, deciding she needed to go home to steady herself, she turned the car around and started back up the hill. She hadn’t got far when her mobile rang, and seeing it was Stephie she clicked on.

‘Hi, are you still with your mum?’ Stephie asked.

‘No, I’m on my way back. I should be there in a couple of minutes. Is everything OK? You sound worried.’

‘Do I? No, no I’m fine. Well, no I’m not actually. I’ve just been online and there’s something … Well, there’s something here that you ought to see.’

Hey all you sizzly peeps, party time at my place. Everyone invited. If anyone in touch with Daisy’s mum pls tell her would love to see her. Dates and times to follow. AQ x

Jules looked at Andee, whom she’d called right after Stephie had shown her the post.

Andee was shaking her head in disbelief. ‘If I hadn’t seen this with my own eyes …’ she murmured.

Still inwardly reeling at the tone of the message, never mind what it said, or where Stephie had found it, Jules pushed an unsteady hand through her hair.

‘It’s putting it on Daisy’s Facebook page that’s really getting me,’ Stephie raged. ‘How dare the bitch go anywhere near it? It’s like having filth poured over something lovely and pure.’

To Andee Jules said, ‘She surely can’t believe I’d go, so what’s this really about?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ Andee replied. ‘Her mind doesn’t seem to work along the same lines as most, but she’s definitely trying to engage you in something.’

‘She’s totally schizo,’ Stephie snorted. ‘Have you read what she said to Janey Field, who told her she’d rather hang herself than go anywhere near her? She actually said, “I’m sure I can help with that
.”’

Jules turned to Andee again. ‘Is this breaking the terms of her parole, going on to Daisy’s Facebook page?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Andee replied, ‘but I can check.’

‘Did you hear she went to the Mermaid yesterday?’ Stephie asked Andee.

Andee’s eyebrows rose in shock.

‘She didn’t even get through the door,’ Jules told her. ‘It wasn’t only Misty who barred the way, a few of the regulars were there so she realised pretty quickly that she was making a mistake.’

Andee frowned as she thought. ‘Like you,’ she said, ‘I’m asking myself what this is really about. Not just this bizarre invitation, but why did she choose to come back here at all?’

‘And why,’ Stephie cut in, ‘stage that ludicrous display outside the prison with a bunch of fake friends and a bloke who can only be interested in her money, or there’s something wrong with him too. I mean, who in their right minds gets involved with a convicted killer?’

‘According to Danny,’ Jules said, ‘he’s the brother of someone she was in prison with. We’re guessing that most of the friends are similarly related.’

‘I wonder,’ Andee said very gently to Jules, ‘if it’s time to close down Daisy’s Facebook page?’

Jules immediately felt a surge of resistance. ‘It would feel like a victory for her if we did,’ she replied. It would also feel like closing off another part of Daisy, and she’d had to close off so much already.

‘It would be one less way for her to get to you,’ Andee pointed out.

‘We can always defriend her,’ Stephie piped up. ‘And there has to be a way of taking that post down. I’ll ask Joe, he’s sure to know.’

All eyes went to the laptop as another post bleeped its arrival.

Hey peeps, me again. Someone pls tell Daisy’s mum that we were watching her on CCTV yesterday. Sad. She should come to the party. It might cheer her up to have some fun.

Andee frowned. ‘What CCTV?’ She turned to Jules. ‘Where were you yesterday?’

Realising she had to come clean, Jules said, ‘I drove up there.’

Stephie’s eyes widened as Andee regarded her darkly.

‘I know it was a crazy thing to do,’ Jules admitted, ‘I can’t even really say why I did it. I guess I needed to know for sure if she was there.’

‘Did you try to go in?’

‘No, of course not. I sat outside for a while.’ She looked from Andee to Stephie and back again. ‘It was a bad day,’ she explained. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight …’

‘The next time you feel like doing that,’ Stephie cut in, ‘call me first and I’ll come with you.’

‘It would be best not to go at all,’ Andee cautioned. ‘Look, I understand this isn’t an easy time, emotions are fraught, nerves are in shreds, but engaging with her on any level will only make things worse.’

Jules turned away, her insides clenched with frustration and fury, while the need to lash out at the girl, to crush her with a whole lot more than rejection, made her head thump with its power.

‘Jules?’ Andee said carefully.

Realising Andee was sensing something, Jules forced herself to sound calm as she replied, ‘You’re right, of course, we need to give Crofton Park a wide berth, and maybe it is a good idea to close down the Facebook page.’

Stephie was regarding her uncertainly.

‘Just do it,’ Jules told her. ‘Then maybe you can private message everyone from your own account to explain why it’s not there any more.’

Following her into the kitchen, Andee said, ‘You shouldn’t be having to deal with this. Have you thought about going away for a while?’

Being in such a turmoil, so dislocated from anything that made sense, or felt right, even sounded right in her own mind, it took a moment for Jules to register the words. When she did her eyes sparked with anger. ‘She’s done enough already,’ she snapped, ‘I’m not allowing her to push me out of my own home.’

‘That’s not how it would be …’

‘It’s the way she would see it. I would too. No, I’m sorry, if anyone’s going to leave this place I can promise you this, it’ll be her, not me.’

‘
JULES, IT’S AILEEN.
How are you, dear?’