The Secrets Between Us (44 page)

‘We can rule out Luke Innes if it was Genevieve’s new relationship that drove him away.’

‘It could have been anyone,’ said Neil. ‘If it was somebody rich and famous, and if whoever-he-is is still married, he certainly won’t want to be identified. Especially not now.’

‘Isn’t there anything you can go on?’ May asked.

Neil shrugged. ‘Isabel said that, once, and only once, she overheard Genevieve talking on the phone. She was upset and drunk and she was pleading with someone called Lee. Does that ring a bell with you, Sarah?’

‘No.’

‘Bollocks.’

We sat up a while longer, talking, but soon I was overwhelmed with tiredness. I kissed May and Neil goodnight, washed and changed, and snuggled down into my bed with the electric blanket turned up high, but I couldn’t sleep. My mind was full of Alexander and Jamie and the secrets between us, keeping us apart.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

THE NEXT MORNING,
Neil had to do an interview on his way to work, so he left his laptop with me and told me to make a written record of everything we’d found out so far. May worked as a volunteer teaching assistant at a school for autistic children three days a week and, before she left that morning, she asked me to shop for the evening’s dinner. I had plenty to keep me occupied, but there were other things I needed to do first.

I watched the television news while I drank my coffee. The newsreader had a kind, authoritative face. He was wearing a dark suit and tie. Behind him was a photograph of Genevieve. It wasn’t a horsey one: she was wearing a pink ballgown and jewels sparkled at her earlobes and around her throat. Her hair was exquisitely styled. She looked like a princess.

The newsreader spoke slowly and precisely.

The body in the quarry had been identified as Genevieve’s a week ago, while I was curled up depressed in bed. Now, preliminary results of the post mortem indicated that she had died from a single wound to the head. There was no doubt it had been deliberately inflicted. She had been murdered.

I closed my eyes. It didn’t really matter
how
she had died; still, each new detail made me sad. It made the image in my
mind worse. Every time I found out something new, the desire to be with Jamie and to look after him and to protect him increased. I ached for Jamie. I wondered what he was doing and who was caring for him. And in the next heartbeat my mind jumped to Alexander. I wondered if he knew yet how Genevieve had died. I doubted the news would have been broken to him gently; it would most likely have been used as a whip to beat him with. Was he alone? Was his heart breaking? I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself inside Alexander’s head, and his body, and when I did I had a dry taste in my mouth and a numb coldness in my head like death.

As far as Alexander knew, not a single person in the world was on his side.

I opened Neil’s notebook, found a few empty pages and began to write.

Dear Alex

I held the pen over the next line but I didn’t know how to condense everything I was feeling into few enough words to fit on the narrow sheet of paper. I didn’t know how to explain what had been happening or what I was doing to help put things right or why it had taken me so long to get in touch.

I wrote:

I don’t know everything, but I know some of the truth about Genevieve
.

Then I crossed the words out. They sounded melodramatic. Alex would think I was obsessing about Genevieve again. He wouldn’t understand, from those words, what I meant. I started a new piece of paper.

Dear Alex

I think about you every moment of every day and I hope you are
…

I stopped again. I hoped he was what? Bearing up? Keeping well? Thinking about me? I tore out the paper and screwed it up.

Dear Alex

I am sure you’re worrying about Jamie and I wanted to let you know that he’s
…

I didn’t know how Jamie was. I didn’t know where he was or who was looking after him. I put the pad down, muted the television and, without giving myself time to fret about it, I called Claudia’s number. Bill answered.

‘Hi Bill, it’s Sarah,’ I said.

‘Hello,’ he said, and his voice was cold and defensive. He didn’t ask how I was. He didn’t say anything apart from that one word.

‘I saw the news,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry, Bill.’

‘Thank you.’

‘How’s Claudia?’ I asked. Bill sighed at the inanity of the question and didn’t bother to answer.

‘And Jamie?’ I asked. ‘Has anyone spoken to Jamie yet? Does he know about Genevieve?’

‘He knows she’s dead,’ said Bill. I flinched at the way he said this, the brutality of it.

‘What did you tell him?’

‘Sarah, I don’t really think it’s appropriate that I—’

‘Is he there?’

‘No.’

‘Then where …?’

‘He’s with his grandparents.’

I thought of Jamie, prickly, difficult Jamie, how he pulled
the hem of his sweatshirt or his pyjama top up over his nose to hide the fact that he was sucking his thumb, how he tried so hard not to care. I imagined Virginia exhorting him to be brave, to be a strong little man. I imagined her subtly, oh so subtly, feeding him poison about Alexander. My eyes felt hot.

‘Is he all right?’

‘As all right as he can be. We’re doing our best to protect him from the truth.’

‘Nobody knows what the truth is yet,’ I said.

‘Well, listen,’ said Bill, ‘I’d love to chat but …’

‘Would you just tell Claudia she’s never far from my thoughts? And also tell her that Neil, my brother-in-law, he’s a journalist, he’s looking into everything and—’

‘Sarah …’

‘I know. I’m sorry. You’ve got more pressing matters on your mind. Just tell Claudia that we’re almost certain Alexander didn’t hurt Genevieve. Would you tell her that?’

‘I won’t because it will upset her. We know all about your weird little obsession with Genevieve and, quite frankly, Sarah, what you’re doing now is sick.’

I shook my head. This conversation was going all wrong.

‘Bill, maybe I was a bit obsessed but …’

‘Let her go, Sarah. Let go of us all. Stop your stalking. It’s over.’

I held the receiver close to my face.

‘I’m sorry, I just … Bill, when you see Jamie, please tell him that I’m missing him and that I’ll see him soon.’

But the line was dead. I don’t think Bill heard any of my last words at all.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

I HAD A
shower and dressed up warm, then spent an hour on the internet and telephone tracking Alexander from the police station in Castle Cary via the local court to Bristol prison. I called the prison and asked if it would be possible to speak to him, but it wasn’t. The officer was brisk, but not unkind.

‘Could you give him a message?’ I asked. ‘Please tell him …’ Again I searched for the right words.

‘Why don’t I just tell him that you’re missing him?’ he suggested.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Thank you. And tell him not to worry about Jamie. Tell him everything’s going to be fine.’

I spent another hour or so typing everything I knew and had been told about Genevieve and Alexander into a document on Neil’s computer. I was careful to date and reference everything, then I emailed the document to Neil at work.

After that, I put on my coat and boots and walked down to the small supermarket at the end of the road. I passed a small group of revellers already in fancy dress, laughing and waving football rattles. I smiled at them and we all wished each other a Happy New Year. A large man dressed as Top Cat kissed me full on the lips.

The last newspapers of the year were stacked inside the shop. They were full of round-ups and lists. I couldn’t see any new Genevieve headlines.

I bought the ingredients to make a spaghetti carbonara, and had just reached the check-out when my phone rang.

I wriggled the phone out of the pocket of my jeans and checked the display: it was Neil. Before I could say a word he said: ‘Sarah, there’s something I need you to see. Where are you?’

‘In the Co-Op.’

‘Get a cab, will you? Come to the office as quickly as you can.’

‘What is it?’

‘Just hurry. You’ll see.’

He met me at the staff entrance, grabbed my hand and pulled me into the stairwell.

‘The lifts are broken,’ he said. ‘We’ll have to climb.’

‘Tell me what you’ve found!’ I was struggling to keep up. Neil had longer legs than me and was taking the stairs two at a time.

‘Proof that we’re on the right lines,’ he said. His voice was euphoric and proud.

My heart was thumping as I followed him along a corridor, through some swing doors and back into the newsroom.

Neil indicated that I should sit on a wheeled chair in front of his desk while he rebooted his computer. He logged in, his fingers working deftly and quickly, and within moments a screen full of emails appeared.

‘What is it?’ I asked.

He leaned over my shoulder. ‘Look.’

The account belonged to someone called Charlene Ho.

‘Matt’s sister?’ I asked Laurie. He nodded. And he pointed to the screen.

On 21 July, there had been a message from Genny C.

I looked up at Neil.

‘Open it,’ he said.

‘This is a private account. How did you get into it?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘Is it legal?’

‘Just read the email.’

I clicked on the envelope icon and the email filled the screen.

Genevieve had written:

All set for Friday. I’m SOOOO nervous! I can’t believe it’s really happening, but this time it is – definitely!!!

‘Is she talking about leaving?’

Neil nodded. I read on.

You understand, don’t you, Charlie, this is the ONLY way we can be together, honestly, and we are both sick of the lies and deception. It just gets worse the longer it drags on. It’ll be better for everyone this way in the long run. Hope all’s well in Hong Kong. Write soon, I’m going to miss your emails while we’re in Sicily. All love, Gen xxx

I closed my eyes for a moment. Genevieve wrote how I had imagined she would talk, with her emphatic capital letters and her dramatic exclamation marks. She had been apprehensive and excited when she wrote that message, believing that her elopement was imminent and that all her problems would soon be over. It was almost unbearably intimate, and knowing that all her plans had come to nothing made me feel terribly sad.

She had written another email on the same date, just before midnight.

Charlie, I’m worried. Alex has been watching me tonight, I’m sure he suspects something. I’m having to write this from the bathroom(!) it’s the only place I can get any privacy. I wish I could leave right now. I don’t think I can stand another day of this scrutiny. I know I won’t be able to sleep and he’ll know I’m not sleeping and then he’ll be wanting to know what’s wrong etc. I’ll be so glad when this is over. Gxxx

I looked up at Neil. ‘I don’t like the sound of this.’

‘There are more,’ he said.

Charlene and Genevieve had continued to write to one another until well into the early hours of that morning, Genevieve sounding increasingly tired and fraught and Charlene reassuring her and urging her to rest.

Finally, at 4.30 a.m., Genevieve had written:

Oh, Christ, it’s getting light. I can FEEL the dawn coming. It’s too late to sleep now. I’m looking at my face in the bathroom mirror and I look like a ghost. If L saw me like this he’d change his mind for sure. I’m off to see the horses. Thanks for keeping me company, C, you are SUCH a lovely friend, love Gxxx

‘What’s the time difference between here and Hong Kong?’ I asked.

‘They’re seven hours ahead,’ said Neil. ‘Genevieve’s sleepless night would have been Charlene’s morning.’

There was nothing from Genevieve for the next ten hours, but the following afternoon she’d written:

Managed to snatch some time with L. We went to our place, he calmed me down a bit. Says it will be fine. Says not to worry. I don’t know how he can be so RELAXED. I made him promise me that this time it will really really happen and he says this time it really really will. Am so tired. Gx

‘This is the day before she died?’ I asked Neil. He nodded. He had made a steeple with his fingers and was resting his chin on its point.

I swallowed. ‘It feels wrong,’ I said, ‘reading this. It’s too … intimate. It feels like spying. Like stalking.’

‘Genevieve’s dead,’ said Neil. ‘It won’t hurt her. Think of Alexander. Think of the child.’

‘I know but …’

Neil squeezed my shoulder.

‘This is important,’ he said.

Later that day Genevieve had written:

J’s been playing up since school. I showed him pictures of the house in Sicily. Told him a ‘story’ about a boy who lived on the beach with his mummy and his daddy etc. He’s going to miss Alex. Am not proud of myself. Gx

I exhaled slowly. At 6 p.m. she’d sent another email.

You’re right. It WILL be better when everything’s out in the open. I guess the family will forgive me one day!!! Alex thinks I’m ill. Made me come up here for a lie-down. I called L just now, he promised me he’s going to tell the family he’s leaving tonight. It’s going to be awfully hard for him but he promised this time he will do it. Christ, Charlene, you must be SICK of hearing this same story over and over. I don’t know how you can bear to be my friend but I’m so glad you are. Gxxx

At 11 p.m. there was another brief message:

Haven’t heard anything. Have called L a dozen times. His phone’s switched off. Do you think that means he’s told them? Why didn’t he text? He said he was going to text to let me know that he’d done it, but he hasn’t.