Epilogue
Three Months Later
Bluebells were springing up in the graveyard. It was the beginning of April, and the visitors’ centre was open again, and the old stone church behind it was preparing for the Easter service.
I hadn’t expected to come back here. Had sworn not to, in fact.
But Miranda had called me directly – the first time she’d been in touch since January – and told me this was something I needed to know, but that she wanted to tell me, to show me, in person.
Holly was away on a hen weekend with a group of her mates in Tenerife, and I assumed Miranda had timed this invitation to coincide with that. She wanted to talk to me on my own.
I couldn’t resist, so I’d got a flight to Inverness, and here I was. I parked my rental car by the visitors’ centre and found Miranda in the churchyard, sitting on the ground beside her mother’s grave.
‘You made it,’ she said.
‘What’s this all about?’
She didn’t reply straight away. ‘It’s a lovely spot here, don’t you think?
I’m actually thinking of moving up here, buying a little house nearby.
Freddie’s at boarding school so he can come and stay during school holidays.
’ She appeared to be talking to herself.
‘Maybe he’d find some good friends here, like Holly and Lewis did.
’ A wry smile. ‘Except hopefully his friends wouldn’t end up dead. ’
Realizing she wasn’t going to tell me why she’d asked me here immediately, I said, ‘How have you been, Miranda?’
‘How do you think? Zack’s death … you would not believe how much admin there is when someone dies. It’s been a bloody nightmare. Muggins here had to deal with most of the admin around Lewis’s death, too.’ She shook her head. ‘Dad hasn’t been the same since he found out the truth about that bitch.’
She snorted.
‘Did you hear that he’s opened a new software division now, hired a load of kids? He promised he’s not going to resurrect that Fase app, but I will be amazed if they don’t produce something like it. He’s got a new operations manager, too. Looks like Zack’s clone. Maybe he used the app to find him.’
‘Miranda, why did you bring me here?’
She looked around, and then down at a brown letter-sized envelope that lay beside her on the bench.
‘Because I want you to go ahead and make your movie.’
I wasn’t sure I’d heard her correctly. ‘What?’
‘I think you heard me. You’re going to make a film. One that actually has a good ending. That tells the whole truth, about Samir and Gravitas and Zack. Jimmy, too. And the app and Jasmine and Brenda … my God, it shouldn’t be a movie. It should be a series.’
I stared at her. ‘But you know I can’t. We made a deal.’
‘Fuck the deal.’
‘Miranda—’
‘I said, fuck the deal. In fact, the deal is already fucked.’
She smiled and waved the brown envelope at me.
‘Do you know what I’ve got in here?’ She leaned forward and whispered it.
‘Emails. You know I had access to Zack’s laptop?
That night, when you were all at the pub, making your deal and just assuming I would go along with all of it, I had a look.
I’d caught a glimpse earlier in the day, you know, when I locked myself in the toilet.
I knew there would be emails that mentioned Samir.
And there it was. Dad and Zack, discussing the whole situation.
I mean, it’s not exactly Dad telling Zack to kill the boy, but they talk about hiring him, about the need for secrecy, about how he’s threatening to expose them. ’
I took the envelope from her hand, unable to believe what I was hearing.
‘You’d do this to your dad? Really?’
‘Don’t you think he deserves it? After he cheated on my mum! How could he? How could he do that to you? To us? And giving that other little bitch—’
She meant Avril.
‘—all that money, and the house, and promising to open the arts centre and give it Morag’s name! The little slut that he screwed while my mother lay dying! That was the last straw. The last fucking straw. It should be the Elizabeth Grant Arts Centre!’
She was almost shouting now. Any passer-by could have heard her, but there was no one around.
‘I want you to tell the story. All of it. Take him down, Patrick. Take the whole family down. I want you to reveal Lewis and Jasmine’s plot to kill Dad, too. Get her extradited. Ruin her fucking name, at least.’
‘You don’t care about the impact on you?’
She stood up straight. ‘I don’t care about myself. I’m doing this for my mum.’
‘And what about Holly?’
She blew air through her lips. ‘She’ll be fine.
She’s not implicated in any of it. Her shares will be worthless when Gravitas collapses but, for fuck’s sake, it’s about time she stood on her own feet, don’t you agree?
’ She took a step closer to me. ‘Come on, Patrick. You want this, don’t you?
This is your chance to make something great.
Something the whole world will talk about. ’
‘You know I could rip all these emails up? Destroy the evidence?’
She snorted again. ‘Those are just printouts. I’ve already sent the laptop to the police. It’s too late.’ A smile that contained no warmth, no humour. ‘Patrick, either you make this documentary or someone else will.’
She brushed herself down.
‘I’ve sent a copy to Samir’s parents, too, so the police won’t have the option to sit on it. So Dad’s old chum, the chief constable, won’t be able to kill it.’
She kissed her palm and transferred the kiss to the headstone.
‘I’m trusting you to do a good job with it, Patrick,’ she said. ‘No open endings this time.’
She walked away, leaving me holding the envelope.
By the time she reached the visitors’ centre, I was already rehearsing what I was going to tell Holly.
Because how could I possibly say no?