Mum xxx
I clutch the letter in my hand. Lines splash around my brain.
The whore must be stopped. And somehow you must help me stop her. She cannot be allowed.
With a jolt everything falls into place. Zoe did send me that text back in September: IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU, WHORE. She has wanted me dead this whole time, since Jed left her in fact. And just as she has the motive, so Lish, through his drug dealing, has the means.
Not Zoe or Lish, but Zoe and Lish.
Together they tried to kill me and Dee Dee died instead.
My legs are trembling as I stand up. I shove the letter in my bag then hurry to the flat’s front door. I open it carefully. Upstairs, I can hear the girl from this flat thanking whoever is in 3A for the spare key.
There’s no time to get across the hallway and outside the building. Anyway, Dan insisted I should stay ‘even if you feel like running, Em’ – in order to get my ring back. Hands shaking, I close the flat’s front door. A second later the girl reappears. She sees me loitering in the hall and slows her swift jog down the stairs.
‘Can I help you?’ she says, her voice as sullen as it is suspicious.
‘Hi,’ I say with an apologetic smile. I indicate the front door to the building. ‘Sorry to barge in but it was open so I came through. I think I dropped my ring outside earlier. I was just calling by on the off-chance someone here picked it up.’
The girl’s hand goes to the pocket of her skinny jeans. I follow her gaze. I’m betting that’s where she’s put my ring. Will she admit to it? Earlier, Dan had said we would be fine so long as the girl didn’t either stop to think about how he had spotted the ring from his car or pretend to me that she hadn’t found it.
‘She’ll take it in,’ he had said. ‘Either from greed or pity. But if she doesn’t confess she’s got it . . .’
I look her in the eye. No way am I letting her keep the ring. ‘Have you seen it?’ I ask, a steely edge to my voice. ‘I’m pretty certain it came off when I took off my gloves. It’s a bit big, needs resizing.’
‘A ring?’ the girl asks.
‘Yes,’ I persist. I’m trying to focus but I keep thinking of the letter, stuffed in my handbag. The whore must be stopped. And somehow you must help me stop her. She cannot be allowed. ‘An oval-shaped diamond on a platinum band. Did you see it?’
There’s a slight pause, then the girl digs the ring out of her pocket. She jogs down the remaining steps and hands it to me.
‘Thank you.’ My heart is still going at ninety miles an hour. ‘Thanks so much.’ I turn and walk quickly to the building’s front door. Once outside, I have to stop myself from legging it until I’m on the pavement. I turn left and race to the end of the road. Dan is parked exactly where he said he would be, just around the corner. I open the passenger door of his car and he drives off. As I put my ring back on its finger I realize I’m still shaking.
Zoe wants me dead. I have proof that she has urged her son to kill me.
Dan glances down at the ring on my hand. ‘You got it back. Did you get inside? Was it okay? What did you find?’
I shake my head.
‘Are you all right, Em? You look white as a—’
‘I’m okay,’ I whisper. ‘But . . . but . . .’
Dan frowns. ‘Did you find drugs? Potassium cyanide? What happened?’
‘No drugs,’ I say. My throat is choked. Two fat tears trickle silently down my face. I am still trembling.
I’m certain now that Lish tried to kill me just like Dan said.
He did it for his mother. And his sister died instead.
A new thought punches me – a body blow on a bruise: if Lish and Zoe tried once, why haven’t they tried again? Are they just waiting for the right time?
Dan pulls over and parks the car at the side of the road.
‘Em?’ He holds out his hand. I squeeze it. Then let go. I want, in this moment, to let him hold me and reassure me but I can’t. What I should do is go back to Jed and tell him everything. Except I can’t tell Jed because that means explaining that I came here with Dan and virtually broke into Lish’s student flat. Or does what I found cancel out the crime I committed? I can’t work it out.
‘Em, I’m worried about you.’ Dan leans forward and puts his arm around my shoulder.
His jumper smells of soap and bonfires. I’m transported back to our first proper date, at the Alexandra Palace fireworks display, ironically close to where I now live in Muswell Hill with Jed. We went to a party afterwards. There was a huge bonfire in a big shared house – lots of beer and dancing. Dan and I danced and kissed. He was the centre of the party, a magnet for both the other guys who were there – and plenty of the girls too. But wherever he went and whoever he spoke to, he introduced me proudly, barely leaving my side all evening.
I pull away. Dan looks down at me, his forehead creased with a concerned frown. ‘I’m going to stay here, try and meet up with Lish tomorrow, like I said I would. You’re sure there weren’t any drugs in his flat?’
‘I wasn’t there long enough to be sure, but I didn’t find anything like that in his bedroom.’
Dan looks at me curiously. I can see he knows I am hiding something from him and is holding himself back from pressing me about it with difficulty. I gaze into his anxious eyes. I have to get away from him. I need to clear my head. I will call Laura. Or my sister. Yes, it’s Rose I need to see. I need to talk to my wise, caring big sister.
‘Em?’ Dan’s eyes glisten with concern. I have a sudden and powerful desire to reach over and kiss him.
I resist, berating myself for such a stupid impulse. I’m just all jangled up. I need to get away from Dan and go to Rose.
The whore must be stopped. And somehow you must help me stop her. She cannot be allowed.
I need Rose.
June 2014
I hate my life. Hate it. HATE IT. Right now I’m in my room hiding from Mum. Ever since I got back she’s been asking and asking about Emily, pushing me to say how rubbish it was being with her and Daddy. I can’t STAND it. I REALLY want to tell Ava or Poppy just how bad it is, but I’ve been on everything and they can see I’m online but they are all ignoring me and when I join in a chat they just go somewhere else and I don’t know where. It’s not fair. Mum is worse than EVER. I mean she always asks about Emily but since I got home it’s been, like, CONSTANT, things like ‘what did Emily cook?’ and ‘what was Emily wearing?’ and ‘was Emily nice to you?’ – all sneering – and I never know what to say because if I say it was good and Emily – for instance – had a really cool skirt on she gets all upset, things like: ‘well of course it’s easy to look good in a mini when you’re so young’ in that voice where she sounds like she’s pinching it out of her throat even though I NEVER said it was a miniskirt BUT if I say being with Emily was bad though it isn’t except when Daddy gets annoyed, like when we go out to eat and he wants me to choose grown-up things that I don’t like or not have a pudding cos I’m so FAT, then Mum gets upset anyway, about how awful it is Daddy’s being so selfish and what were they thinking taking me out on a Saturday night, ‘your father seems to think he’s twenty-one again’.
Anyway, here I am all alone. I can’t tell Emily about everyone hating me at school because Mum would get upset and I can’t tell Mum because she’d somehow find a way to blame Dad and Emily for it. Anyway, Mum wouldn’t understand.
Nobody does.
December 2014
It takes me almost four hours to get to Rose’s house. There’s a delay on the main train to Waterloo, then engineering works on the slower line into south-east London. Rose is home from work when I let myself in. I can hear her upstairs in her room. I shout ‘hello’ and head into the living room where the fire is on and it’s warm and cosy. It’s reassuring, calming, to be here where everything is so familiar. In spite of this, Rose sees that I’m upset as soon as she walks into the room.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asks.
‘Oh, Rose.’
> We sit down on the battered old couch opposite the TV. The latter is state-of-the-art, a present from Martin for Rose’s birthday a couple of years ago. The sofa, on the other hand, is badly in need of re-covering. Rose has said, many times, that she will one day have it reupholstered but I know that she, like me, has a sentimental attachment to the threadbare blue chenille with its shiny patches from the many heads that have rested against its high back. As I sit there I think of Dad, where Rose is right now, watching Match of the Day and Mum, in my seat, with her reading glasses on, legs tucked under her, flicking through a magazine. My memories are fuzzy – mostly, I suspect, arising from photos and videos rather than actual recollections. Of all the things I resent about my parents’ death, the lack of real memories is one of the hardest to bear, especially as my brother and sister are so easily able to recount so many memories themselves.
‘What’s up?’ Rose asks again.
I take a good look at my older sister. She’s in casual clothes – jeans and a jumper – but there’s that same highly groomed air about her that I noticed at Martin’s birthday party. Her eyebrows look freshly plucked and her hair has been carefully teased into place. She’s wearing full make-up again too. The overall effect is to make her look younger than she has done in years.
‘You look lovely.’ As I speak I wonder, not for the first time, what on earth would have become of me when our parents died if Rose hadn’t taken me on. Martin might be my hero, but Rose is my lodestar.
‘Thanks.’ Rose smiles, then settles back on the couch. ‘Now, spill.’
I take a breath, steady myself – then I tell her everything, starting with Dan’s arrival in the staff car park at school earlier in the month. Rose sits forward, listening intently. As I come to my exploration of Lish’s student flat, I take the letter Zoe sent him out of my bag and hand it over.
‘I can’t get what it says out of my head,’ I explain. ‘I really think Zoe wants me dead. I mean, her letter says she is going to come and see me, which she did, in the car park at school, remember? Exactly like she says there. And it wasn’t enough to stop me and Jed, just like she predicts. Plus there was this text from a withheld number that I was sent just after they discovered the cyanide in the ExAche. It said: IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU, WHORE. Which I’m certain was from Zoe. It all adds up. I really think she got Lish to try and kill me but Dee Dee died instead.’ I pause. ‘I’m scared, Rose.’
Rose nods. Her lips are pressed tightly together as she pores over the letter. I can’t tell what she’s thinking.
‘D’you see what I mean?’ I say at last. ‘Zoe wants me dead.’
Rose looks up. ‘I don’t know that I’d read that into it.’
‘Really?’ I’m surprised. ‘But she’s telling Lish she wants him to help her “stop” me.’
‘Exactly. “Stop” you, not “murder” you. She’s just mouthing off . . . asking for his support.’
‘Oh.’ There’s a long pause. ‘Do you think I should tell Jed?’ I ask after a while.
Rose’s eyes widen. ‘God, no,’ she says.
I’m surprised by how emphatic she sounds.
‘But . . . don’t you think he’d want to know?’
‘Want to know what?’ Rose puts down the letter. ‘That his adored fiancée thinks half his family are bent on murdering her? That you’ve snooped into private rooms, private homes . . . Jesus, even private letters between a mother and a son?’ She smiles, but there’s a real edge to her voice as well as her words.
I gasp, bewildered. ‘But I needed to know,’ I protest. ‘I was scared, I thought you’d understand.’
‘I do understand. I get that you were scared. But all these bits and pieces of information you’ve been gathering don’t add up in the way you think they do,’ she says. ‘I can’t believe you’ve fallen for Dan Thackeray again, either.’
‘I haven’t fallen for him,’ I insist. ‘He hasn’t tried anything on, he says he just wants to make sure I’m safe.’
‘If you ask me, he wants to get back in your pants,’ Rose says. ‘He’s spinning you a yarn.’
‘I don’t think so. It’s not like he came to me with made-up facts, he just pointed out the connection between Dee Dee being poisoned and Lish selling drugs at his university.’
‘What connection?’ Rose asks. ‘Even if Lish is really a dealer, he’s hardly likely to be dealing in potassium cyanide.’
I gulp. ‘What about that?’ I point to the letter in her hand. ‘Zoe wrote that I shouldn’t “be allowed”. Surely you can see why I’m disturbed? I mean she sounds so angry, like in the “should have been you” text.’
‘Of course she sounds angry, but that doesn’t mean she’s making serious threats against your life. Come on, Emily. You’d be angry if some beautiful girl who has men falling at her feet decided to steal your husband.’
‘It wasn’t like that.’ Tears spring to my eyes. ‘You know it wasn’t. I never meant to hurt her or any of Jed’s family.’
‘I know.’ Rose sighs. She reaches for my hand. ‘I’m sorry, Em. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh. I just think Dan’s come along and planted some ridiculous idea in your head and you’re letting him get you all carried away. Just like before.’
‘Nothing’s happened between me and Dan. And it’s not going to. Anyway, I thought you liked Dan?’
‘Back when you were both twenty-three, I did. He was fun. Charming. But I never trusted him to stick around. Which, you’ll have noticed, he didn’t.’
I stare at her. Irony is very much not Rose’s style.
‘And now he’s back out of the blue,’ she goes on. ‘Winding you up and watching you go.’
‘So . . . so you don’t think I should tell Jed?’
‘Definitely not. Jed will just be hurt and upset. There’s no point.’
‘What about Lish? He hates me.’
Rose shrugs. ‘You’ll just have to give that time.’
‘What about his dealing? He’s trading in illegal pharmaceuticals. Should I give that “time”?’
‘Allegedly trading. So far, all you know is that some guy in a pub mentioned his name. Dan could have set that up.’
I frown. ‘Why would Dan do that?’
‘To get you back, maybe?’
‘That’s crazy. Dan hadn’t seen me for years before he told me what he’s found out about Lish.’
‘Believe me, I know how stupid men can be. Men like Dan are all about the chase. He’ll have seen that you’re getting married to someone more successful than he is, and he wants to put a spanner in the works because he thinks he can.’ Rose sniffs. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction.’
‘I still think it’s far-fetched to think Dan would get some guy to pretend Lish was a drug dealer.’
‘Okay, but even if Lish is involved in something dodgy, so what? It’s none of your business. I promise you that if you weigh in to tell Jed all about it, he won’t thank you.’
I stare at her.
Rose bites her lip. ‘As you know, I’ve had relationships with men who had kids from their marriages, including Simon. And what do I always say?’
‘Never challenge them on their kids.’
‘Exactly. Anyway, imagine the conversation if you do tell Jed any of this. You’ll have to admit you went snooping around in Southampton then broke into Lish’s flat. Jed will be devastated. Come on, Emily, he’s besotted with you to the point where he doesn’t even look at other women. How do you think he’ll feel when he discovers how far behind his back you’ve gone?’
‘I haven’t . . . I just . . .’ I’m reeling, too stunned to think properly. Have I been unfair on Jed? Everything has happened so fast today I haven’t had a chance to think about it. ‘I love Jed and I would never do anything to hurt him.’
‘Good.’ Rose pats my arm. ‘That’s good, Em. So apply that determined, rational voice you used there to all this nonsense about Lish hating you and Zoe wanting you dead. I mean, okay, so you’ve had a funny look from Lish and stumb
led across a private outpouring of hurt and anger from Zoe . . . but it’s crazy to think that she would get him to kill you or that he would bungle it so badly that his own sister dies instead. It’s ludicrous. Totally melodramatic.’
I pick at a loose thread on the sofa. Perhaps Rose is right. Shame flushes my cheeks.
‘So you don’t think I should worry?’ I ask.
‘Oh, sweetie.’ Rose gathers me towards her in a hug. ‘I really don’t, and I don’t think you should see Dan again either. Dee Dee was killed because Benecke Tricorp was negligent. That’s what you need to remember.’
I pull away from her, keen to change the subject. ‘You really are looking great. Is there someone new?’
‘Not since Simon. Not that I’m still upset about that, but when he left me I realized that I’d maybe been a bit of a doormat around him, that I needed to go out and get a life. Then maybe someone will turn up . . . you know, when I’m not expecting it. So I’ve decided to get my degree at last. Art History, something interesting.’
‘That sounds brilliant,’ I say, impressed. Rose has been talking about possibly doing a degree for as long as I can remember.
Rose shrugs and changes the subject to our brother and his relationship with Cameron. ‘So there have definitely been hints from both of them about getting married,’ she says. ‘It came up several times at Mart’s birthday do. All their friends think they’ll say something soon.’
My stomach rumbles with hunger, reminding me that Jed will be expecting me home soon. It’s a long trek from the house where I grew up all the way north to Muswell Hill. I stand up and ferry my mug to the kitchen sink. There are three dirty bowls and a plate waiting to be washed up. I clean them automatically. Rose might have looked after me when I was growing up, but she instilled a sense of personal responsibility into me too, always insisting I did my fair share of housework after Mum and Dad were gone.
As I finish, Rose’s mobile rings from the kitchen table. Someone called Brian is calling. I pick the phone up and hurry back into the living room in time to hear the downstairs loo flushing.