The Look of Love (15 page)

Hearing
Victoria talking about nights out with Chrissy and the boys they
met made Louise feel slightly jealous. In the end she had to ask
Victoria if she really was sure about sharing.

“Of course I’m
sure,” Victoria replied. “I told you before, didn’t I?”

“I know you
did. But you know more about me now, it might make a
difference.”

“No it doesn’t.
Stop talking about yourself as if there was something wrong with
you.”

“Not everybody
thinks like you do.”

“Nobody thinks
like I do!” Victoria said meaningfully with a grin. “Especially
after two half-bottles of vodka! Anyway, it’s you that has to be
sure. Are you?”

“Of course I
am!”

“Shut up,
then!”

They got on the
first tram that came, sitting together at the front, chatting and
laughing all the way. They talked about everything and anything.
They talked about films, pop stars, their course at University,
even politics. They talked about their favourite things, and then
about their least favourite things. Louise found to her delight
that they agreed far more than they disagreed. The journey was over
in an instant, and Louise enjoyed every moment.

They got off at
Saint Peter’s Square and walked down Oxford Street. All the way to
the halls of residence, Louise kept fussing over Victoria, making
sure her coat was fastened, or asking her if her trainers fitted
alright. Victoria was surprisingly tolerant.

“Will you stop
fussing!” was the worse she ever said.

Louise just
smiled. “I can’t help it.”

“So I’m
beginning to realise! Now stop fussing and tell me more about you.
Do you have any friends? You know, like you?”

Louise felt
slightly self-conscious at Victoria’s choice of words. It seemed to
highlight the difference between them despite what Victoria had
said, reminding Louise that they were going to be flat-mates and
not lovers. She told Victoria about Sam and Dayna.

Victoria was
very interested in Louise’s lesbian friends. “I’d like to meet
them,” she said. “Will you introduce me? What do you think they
will think about me?”

Louise smiled
at the idea. “I know Sam will like you. And Dayna will probably try
and chat you up within five minutes. She’s like that. She’s as
voracious as a rabbit!”

“A rabbit on
Viagra?” Victoria added, and they both laughed.

When they got
to Victoria’s flat at the halls of residence, it only took an hour
to pack all of her belongings.

“Most of my
clothes are very small,” Victoria said with a grin.

When they had
finished everything fitted into two hold-alls, five plastic bags
and a suitcase.

They were about
to leave when Victoria paused in the doorway and waved. “Bye-bye,
room!” she said, and closed the door. It made Louise smile.

They were
walking back down Oxford Street when Louise asked, “What should I
call you? Victoria, Vicky, or Tori?”

Victoria
shrugged her shoulders. “You choose. Most people call me scumbag or
Tori!”

Louise laughed.
“I’m not so keen on Tori, and Victoria is too formal. Can I call
you Vicky?”

“Yes, if you
like. But spell it V-i-k-k-i.”

“Why?”

“Because I want
to be different,” Victoria said with a flourish.

Louise smiled.
“Okay. Vikki.”

The journey
back was as quick and enjoyable as the journey out. And when they
got back, they hardly had the time to close the front door behind
them before Rosanna appeared in the hallway.

“Back already?”
she asked. “Hurry up, and I’ll put the kettle on.”

“Give us a
chance, Rosie!” Louise told her. “We’ll just take these upstairs
and get our coats off before we come down.”

“Alright then.
But don’t be long, or the tea will get cold.” Rosanna watched them
scramble up the stairs giggling. She smiled. She was so happy for
Louise. She hoped it would last.

Upstairs,
Victoria was coaching Louise as they unloaded her belongings in her
new bedroom. “Stick to the truth as much as possible, Louise!” she
was saying excitedly. “As far as Rosie is concerned, we’re sleeping
in the same bed!”

Louise wished
it was the truth, but she was also concerned about deceiving
Rosanna. “I’m not lying to Rosie, she’s my friend!” she said.

“I know, I
know! But we’re just having a bit of fun! Oh, come on, Louise! Just
for a little while, at least!”

“Oh, alright
then! But as soon as Rosie begins to suspect, I’ll have to tell her
the truth.”

“That’s good
enough for me! Now, come on! I can’t wait!”

As they
finished unpacking and went downstairs, Louise kept thinking about
what she would say to Rosanna. She wasn’t looking forward to
explaining about her arrangement with Victoria. She knew what
Rosanna would say to her, what Victoria herself had said. That it
was Louise who was taking all the risks. She was the one who would
lose the most if things didn’t work out. Victoria hadn’t promised
anything other than just being a flatmate, and here she was pinning
all her hopes for a real relationship on the outcome. Rosanna would
tell her that she was being silly, stupid even. But Louise couldn’t
help it, and in the end, she didn’t care a hoot what anyone
thought. All she wanted was Victoria, and for now at least, she had
what she wanted.

When they got
to Rosanna’s kitchen it was to find that she was planning a long
afternoon tea session. The pot was already brewing, the toaster was
stuffed with crumpets, and there were plenty of biscuits for
afterwards.

Victoria
grinned at Louise.

The questioning
started even before they had sat down.

“How did you
two get to know each other?” Rosanna asked as she finished laying
the table with plates and cups and saucers.

“I told you,
Rosie,” Louise replied quickly. “We met at University.”

“I know, but
there’s meeting and knowing. I meet people at the bus stop
everyday, but I don’t know any of them.”

Victoria
couldn’t help smiling as she sat down at the kitchen table next to
Louise. “I know what you mean,” she said to Rosanna who was now
busy pouring the tea, but with a secretive wink at Louise. “I met a
few people last night, quite physically in fact, as I’m sure you
must have noticed, but I didn’t know any of them, either.”

“I was going to
ask you about that,” Rosanna said eagerly. She pulled a chair
closer to Victoria and sat down next to her, obviously happy for
the chance to discuss Victoria’s bruises so early in the
conversation. “Were you beaten up?”

“Rosie!” Louise
exclaimed. But the conversation was off and running without her.
They were like two old biddies gossiping over the fence.

“I’ll say!”
Victoria replied.

“Oh, you poor
thing! Whatever for?”

“Some boys
liked the way I was dressed and the way I was dancing, but
unfortunately their girlfriends didn’t.”

“Oh dear. You
weren’t being a bit naughty, were you?”

Louise tried to
head off the inevitable. “It wasn’t her fault!” she said, but no
one was listening to her anymore.

Victoria held
up her finger and thumb. “Maybe just a little bit, so I probably
deserved it.”

“You were
dancing with their boyfriends?” Rosanna exclaimed.

“Kind of. And I
wasn’t wearing very much, either!”

“Vikki!” Louise
protested.

Rosanna went
for the jugular. “But I thought you and Louise were an item. You
are going to live together aren’t you? So why were you dancing with
these boys?”

Victoria closed
the trap, speaking brightly and quickly. “Well, until last night we
weren’t an item. But after I had been beaten up, Louise brought me
back here and had her evil way with me when I was too drunk and
wounded to fight her off. And it wasn’t until this morning that I
realised that I liked it,” Victoria shrugged her shoulders, “so I
thought, why not? Let’s live together, that way Louise can have me
every night without a fight, and I don’t have to worry about
getting pregnant.”

Louise moaned,
put her hands over her rapidly reddening face, and dropped her head
down on the table in despair.

Rosanna stared
at Victoria’s cheeky grin and realised that she was being had. She
nodded, smiling wryly. “You evil buggers!” she said sitting
back.

Victoria burst
out laughing while Louise continued to hide her face on the table
under her hair.

The crumpets
popped up in the toaster. Rosanna went over to it and stared at the
glowing element. She picked up a wooden spoon and smacked the
toaster on the side. The element remained glowing brightly. She
smacked it again, with the same result. She smacked it a third
time, harder than before. Still the element glowed brightly.

“Let me have
ago!” Victoria said, her laughter finally subsiding as she dried
her tear-filled eyes and got up to join Rosanna by the toaster.

“You have to
hit it just right,” Rosanna explained, handing her the spoon. “Not
too hard, or it sparks and fizzes, and not too soft, or it doesn’t
switch off. Hit it here, just at the edge.”

Victoria took
the spoon and gave the toaster a good whack at the point Rosanna
indicated. The element dimmed and went out. Victoria grinned
triumphantly, and Rosanna nudged her.

“Hey, you’ve
got the knack!” she exclaimed. “Dave can hit it all day, and it
never goes out!”

“What can I
say?” Victoria said, preening herself. “I’m an expert in the
kitchen!”

“An expert with
a spoon, you mean!” Rosanna remarked. “For playing such an evil
trick on me you get to butter the crumpets!” She handed Victoria a
knife and the tub of butter. Then she went back to Louise and stood
over her expectantly.

“Did you two
plan this?”

Louise quickly
looked up. “No!” she insisted.

“Oh, yes we
did!” Victoria said, laughing again.

“I thought so!”
Rosanna said, hands on hips. “Well, for that you can go and help
your collaborator to butter the crumpets! Come on, up you get,
Louise! Deceiving a poor innocent woman like me. You should be
ashamed of yourselves. And what’s more, neither of you are leaving
here until I have heard the absolute truth!”

Detective
Sergeant Connors was sitting back in his chair with his feet on his
desk. His eyes were closed but he wasn’t asleep. He was listening
intently to Detective Constable Shawcroft who was sitting on the
other side of his desk, reading from his notes.

“Her name was
Joanne Henshaw,” Shawcroft was saying. “She was nineteen. According
to her parents, she was out with her friends from University on the
night she was killed.”

“Do we have
names and addresses?” Connors asked; his eyes still closed.

“Not as many as
I think you’d like. Her best friend was Chrissy Davis, knew her
from school. She lives in Stretford. Another school friend is
Angela Stevens. We have an address for her in Chorlton-Cum-Hardy.
Both of them were on the same course at Manchester Metropolitan
University with the victim, and were with her last night.”

“When are you
going to interview them?”

“I thought I’d
pay a visit to the University on Monday. I’ll arrange to interview
her teachers, these two girls, and the rest of her class there.
That way I’ll quickly find out who else was with her last
night.”

“Good idea.
What about a boyfriend?”

“Nothing
definite, but one of her sisters said that Joanne had recently got
to know someone called Max. She didn’t know his second name, but
she said that Joanne seemed to like him a lot. And her mother is
sure that she heard Joanne talking to someone on the telephone with
that name on more than one occasion.”

Connors opened
his eyes and sat up. “Hmmm. Have you got a list of their telephone
calls?”

Michael
Shawcroft smiled. “I got on to BT straight away, but there’s
nothing listed under the name of Max.” He handed the typed list of
telephone numbers to his superior. They covered two sheets.

Connors read
through the list of meaningless numbers. “You know what comes
next,” he said without looking up.

Shawcroft
nodded. “Get back to Mr and Mrs Henshaw and their two daughters, go
through the numbers with them, cross off the ones they know, then
ring up the rest.”

Connors looked
up. “How did they take it?”

“Not very well.
The two younger girls were a mess, and we had to get the Doctor in
for Mrs Henshaw. Mr Henshaw looked sort of numb. It was him that
came with us to identify the body. When we left, Mrs Henshaw’s
mother and sister were there. There was a lot of crying.”

“Hmmm. I think
the Henshaw family have probably had enough of us for today. Why
don’t you and I split these numbers between us and give them all a
call? It shouldn’t take long.”

Shawcroft
smiled again. “Why not, sir.” He took back one of the sheets of
numbers Connors handed to him and stood up to leave, pausing in the
doorway. “Of course, being that it’s a Saturday, a lot of the
business numbers won’t reply.”

“We aren’t
interested in the business numbers,” Connors replied reaching for
the phone. “Our boy will be at home, or someone who knows him will
be.”

“You think it’s
him?”

“If he was with
her last night, then he has to be our prime suspect. But if he
wasn’t with her, or if he didn’t walk home with her, then I’d like
to know why.”

As Shawcroft
headed back to his own office, Connors was already dialling the
first number on his part of the list. The number didn’t reply. He
made a note next to it. Business or out. He dialled the next
number. This time there was a reply. It was a woman’s voice.

“Hello,
yes?”

Connors went
into his speech. “I’m sorry to disturb you on a Saturday, but my
name is Detective Sergeant John Connors of the Greater Manchester
Police. I wondered if you can help me. Is there anyone there called
Max, or anyone there who might know a young woman called Joanne
Henshaw?”