The Rose Petal Beach (55 page)

‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ I repeat.

She fixes me with a look, her head slightly to one side as she weighs up what to say to me. I haven’t looked at her properly. She was always in the background, but looking at her now, I can see what Mirabelle fell for. She has a lived-in face, the sort of face you wouldn’t mind waking up to every morning. It has been shaped by a hundred thousand smiles, moulded by displaying affection. If I didn’t know she was a killer, I would think she was beautiful, in the way that ordinary people are.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mrs Challey,’ she states.

‘So many little things have been niggling me, things that didn’t feel right. First it was you knowing who I was the first time you came to my house. You didn’t ask who I was, I could have been anyone, but you knew who I was.’

‘Hello, Mrs Challey. Is your husband in?’

‘And then, that time outside Mirabelle’s house, the way she got shirty with you and Wade for your double act. She was jealous, not annoyed, jealous that you had this private world going on without her.’

‘Do you two do a double act on the stage or something? Because what
you’re doing – all the finishing of each other’s sentences – it’s not endearing, it’s not funny, it’s irritating.’

‘And in the police interview room, you asked if I went to Mirabelle’s house to check if she overslept because you knew I had. You were most likely there.’

‘Did you go to her house and check?’

‘And you knew Scott looked at r—extreme pornography because Mirabelle had told you in detail the things he described to her. That’s why you put the thought in my head to go and look.’

‘Does your husband masturbate to rape pornography? You sound very sure, have you checked?’

‘You told me yourself at the funeral that the killer was almost definitely there.’

‘You’d be surprised how often the killer will show up at the funeral.’

‘And when I came in and told you what had happened the night she died, the way you kept forgetting to call her Ms Kemini and kept slipping into Mirabelle, like you knew her. You said her name like someone who loved her would. Detective Wade never once made that slip.’

‘But because you’d decided to make it work with the rap—sorry, with your
husband
you had no choice but to take that anger out on Mirabelle.

‘And then there’s the main thing: my wedding ring. You knew what the date stood for. The only person I have ever told about that was Mirabelle and that was because I thought she’d lost a child. The only way you could have known about that is if she told you; Mirabelle knew about secrets, she would never have told that to anyone unless it was someone she loved.’

‘Well, not our Wade, here. But I, I recognised it because it is so unusual. And then, of course, there is the unusual inscription. Not your wedding
date, I gather. What is it? First date? A special birthday? First declaration of love? First fuck?’

‘I saw her picture, the woman without a ring on, and I realised that was it. That was what had been niggling me. You knew too much about me for it to have been just another case to you.’

In response Detective Sergeant Harvan – I don’t even know her first name – says nothing. She smiles at me benignly. When I do not say anything either, she says pleasantly, ‘What is it you’re expecting me to say?’

What was I expecting? A confession? Denial? Something in between?

‘I don’t know, to be honest. Actually, I want you to tell me why. I’ve seen those texts she sent you, she was completely in love with you. Why would you kill her? How could you?’

Detective Sergeant Harvan is silent for a long time, then slowly she meets my gaze. ‘I had this friend once,’ she says, slowly, carefully. ‘She was happily married with two children. She had a great job and pretty darn amazing life – on paper. My friend felt dead inside, she told me. She had the perfect life, but it felt like the light had gone out of her.

‘And then, one day, when she’s out running, trying to get away from it all, she sees the most beautiful person in the world. They run past each other for weeks, only noticing each other, then the smiles, then the nods. My friend said she started to live for that part of her day, that moment when the most beautiful woman in the world would smile at her and lift her whole day.’

‘I live for your smiles. They make everything worthwhile.’

Tamia Challey stares at my hands. She’s fixated on them, probably imagining what I have done with them. I never could understand
what Mirabelle saw in her. She is dull and frumpy, a modern-day Stepford wife who doesn’t even realise she is one.

‘My friend was scared of what was happening,’ I say to her. I have to keep reminding myself not to speak too slowly and carefully because, apparently, she doesn’t like it when I do that. ‘My friend had never felt like that about a woman before. She’d always been into men, and she still was in a way, but this woman was incandescent. A goddess in an ordinary world. Eventually they got talking, they’d stop in the middle of their run, wherever they crossed, and would sit on the beach and talk, and the talks got longer, the runs got shorter.’

‘You know the best part of my day is when I see you. It has been for weeks. You’re really funny.’

‘And my friend knew she was falling in love with this beautiful, unique person. They had so much in common, they liked the same films, the same music, they laughed at the same things. And, that day the beautiful runner woman casually brushed her hand against my friend’s, my friend thought her life was over and was about to start at the same time.

‘Why don’t you come over to my house for a coffee? It’s not that far from here. You can explain to me again in detail why I need to get a better pair of trainers than these bad girls on my feet.’

‘Then the runs stopped and they met at her house, always in secret because no one could know, what with my friend being married and no one knowing that the beautiful woman was gay. My friend said the first time she was brave enough to kiss the beautiful woman they were sitting on her sofa, staring at the picture of a story that meant a lot to the beautiful woman, and she did it. She turned, shaking, shaking like a leaf, and leant over and touched the woman with her lips.

‘My friend said she’d never felt anything like the heat, the electricity, the passion spinning through her veins. It’d never been like that with a man. Not even her husband who she loved dearly.’

‘I thought you’d never kiss me. I wasn’t sure if you were interested. I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first time we passed and you turned around and looked at me while running backwards. I thought that was so cool. If I’d have been a bit braver I would have chased after you right there and then.’

‘If I had the slightest clue how I felt I’d have let you catch me.’

‘A few weeks later, when they went to bed, my friend thought she was going to die afterwards. She finally, finally understood about love and sex and what it felt like to be satisfied. Complete.’

‘I only realise now that I’ve never made love before. I’m still tingly from what you’ve done to me.’

‘I’ve never made love like that before, either. You’re everything to me.’

‘But she’s got children, hasn’t she? My friend can’t up and leave her husband because she wouldn’t be able to see her children every day. And that would kill her. So she sticks around, falling deeper and deeper in love, having the most amazing sex, and feeling for the first time that she knows who she is.’

‘I hope you realise how much I love you.’

‘Deeper and deeper my friend falls until, one day, she notices that the beautiful woman has had her head turned. She just senses it, you know, like you do with the people you love. Something’s changed and she’s not quite sure what.

‘Until the beautiful woman mentions a name, someone who she can now go running with because of course the beautiful woman can be seen with whoever she wants and she can flirt with whoever she wants. She can do whatever she wants, but my friend, my poor
friend, has to keep up appearances in her life: perfect mother, perfect wife, perfect employee.’

‘Tami’s great. You should meet her sometime. We can all go to a bar or something one night. I’ve convinced her to come running with me once a week.’

‘Is she the one married to that Scott character?’

‘Yes, but she’s lovely, really she is.’

‘I think you should stay away from her. If he’s bad news, she will be too.’

‘She’s not at all like that. Truly. When you meet her you’ll see what I mean.’

‘The beautiful woman doesn’t even think what it’s like to have to sit on the sidelines and watch as she starts a friendship with this new running partner. And my friend, who’d been so happy, who’d felt alive again, started to realise that she was scared. Scared of losing the beautiful woman and scared of losing her family. But then, the beautiful woman starts to tell her about the problems she’s having again with the man at work who’s connected to this new running partner.’

‘He’s been OK-ish since I became friendly with Tami, but since we started going running, it’s like, BANG! he hates me again. It’s worse than before. Nastier, more threatening without it ever being overt. He’s started with the porn scenarios, too.’

‘I think you should do him for sexual harassment.’

‘I love my job.’

‘Yeah, and he’ll get sacked and you can keep your job.’

‘Right, because that’s what happens all the time. Women aren’t painted as lesbo, humourless troublemakers if they report a bloke and he isn’t seen as a good man who went a bit too far with the jokes and should be given a slap on the wrist. Can you tell I’ve been here before?’

‘That’s when I know that it’s going to be OK after all. Because why would the beautiful woman even think about taking anything further with the running partner when she’s being harassed by the
running partner’s husband? But no, it’s not all right. The beautiful woman is so enthralled by the running partner, she can’t give her up. Not even when the running partner’s husband tries to rape her.’

Tamia Challey’s whole body contracts in horror. She doesn’t like to think about it, does she? She knows he did it, but she likes to pretend that it was OK to continue to sleep in the same bed as a rapist. She needs to tell herself she didn’t know, she didn’t think him capable, she did the right thing in the end. Stepford all the way.

‘The beautiful woman was almost destroyed by that. I spent so much time holding her while she cried about what happened and what to do. She didn’t want to hurt her running partner, but she didn’t want him to get away with it. Especially when the running partner had no idea. So she got up the courage to report him. I … my friend made sure she got the case, she wanted to prosecute the man who had done this to the beautiful woman, to the love of her life. She knew it would be the end, too, of whatever was going on between the beautiful woman and the running partner.’

‘If you had seen her at the beach crying her eyes out … Poor Tami. I feel awful.’

‘It’s him who should feel awful. And her, if she doesn’t know what a criminal she’s sleeping with.’

‘She’s known him half her life. How’s she supposed to understand what he’s really like? I mean, the man had the due date of the baby they lost to miscarriage engraved on the back of their wedding rings. How is she supposed to believe a man who can be that thoughtful would do this?’

‘Men like him don’t just do this out of the blue. I see it all the time. It starts off with small deviant acts that get worse and then as they get older – and in his case more successful – they just don’t bother to hide it because there are less sanctions against him. None of this is your problem, though, you have to concentrate on doing what’s right for you.’

‘But no, the beautiful woman can’t go through with it. She can’t stand what the investigation is doing to the running partner. She
doesn’t back out for herself, for me and how much pressure I’m under, but for the running partner. The worst part is what it does to m—to my friend. My friend begs her to change her mind, to think about what it’ll do to her career: her bosses never wanted her to go after such a well-known businessman even if he was guilty because the things he was into – the extreme porn, the womanising – were things they dabbled in as well. But my friend pursued him because it was the right thing to do and now she was going to have to watch him walk away Scott free. Ha-ha. Did you see what I did there?

‘The beautiful woman won’t change her mind. All she cares about is the running partner, the running partner’s children. The beautiful woman hasn’t behaved very well in her distant, distant past so she’s trying to do something right. She doesn’t want to destroy an innocent person and her children like she did once before. What about me? What did I ever do to her? What did my children ever do to her?’

‘And that’s why you killed her?’ Tamia Challey asks, the picture of innocence as if this isn’t all her fault. She doesn’t get it, does she? She doesn’t understand what life was like for me – falling in love for what felt like the first time in my life, finally understanding what that part of me that was missing was about. I wasn’t broken, I wasn’t odd – I simply hadn’t met the right person. I was watching everything slip away from me: my job would be unbearable if I let him get away with it. All the men who looked at me with suspicious eyes because I wouldn’t join in the blokey banter and I wouldn’t turn a blind eye to stupid, sexist ‘jokes’ would be making comments about me being a man-hater; they’d feel justified in calling me a man-hating carpet-muncher (they called me that because I wouldn’t flirt with them) who had it in for a decent bloke who liked a bit on the side, which wasn’t a crime.

Tamia Challey doesn’t see that while the beautiful woman was trying to save the running partner’s family, she was ruining my friend’s life.

‘It couldn’t go on. My friend was desperate. She kept trying to make the beautiful woman see sense. That’s what happened. She was only trying to make her see sense. But the beautiful woman wouldn’t. She kept saying this was her chance to atone for what she had done in the past. How she had let down the one person she had loved with all her heart and so now she was trying not to ruin someone else’s life, even if it meant the end of her own.’