Chapter 42
LENA
Jo and I are sitting on a crowded terrace at a bar in Clifton, having a drink – non-alcoholic for me because I have to pick up Rufus from Freddie’s house later.
She’s cross, as I knew she’d be, when I tell the latest about the Morgans.
It’s nine thirty and still light, warm enough not to wear a cardigan, and there’s a joyous holiday vibe, which makes me feel nostalgic for all the city breaks I used to have with Charlie and Rufus, sitting in pavement cafés, just the three of us.
Although the scent of body odour and sickly perfume that occasionally wafts our way quickly dispels this.
On the table behind us a woman cackles loudly, which seems at odds with the serious conversation Jo and I are having.
‘You need to be careful, Lena,’ Jo is saying, prodding the ice in her mojito forcefully with a straw. ‘That’s sinister as hell what Henry said to you!’
‘I don’t know how he knew I’d gone into their house.’
She shakes her head and mutters under her breath.
‘What?’
‘It was reckless of you. You should never have gone in there.’
‘I know.’ I sip my nosecco.
‘And now you’ve opened another can of worms with this Oliver guy. You told me before you were heartbroken over that split.’
Why do I feel as though I’m being cross-examined? ‘I was. But it was a long time ago.’
She twists her bracelet around her wrist without looking at me. ‘I just wish you didn’t feel you had to get involved.’
‘I can’t help it. They live next door.’
She glances up at me. ‘So? It’s not your business. I don’t know what my neighbours are up to and, frankly, I don’t care.’ Jo lives in a detached townhouse on one of Redland’s premier streets where everyone keeps to themselves.
‘Look, I know you’re only saying all this because you’re worried, but it became my business the night I overheard them.’
‘Lena. You keep saying you’ll drop it and then you don’t!’
I put my glass down. ‘That was before I found a keyring that looks very much like Oliver’s in the Morgans’ garden.
And it was before I saw the photograph of her pinned to their wall.
They’ve changed their locks now, so I won’t be able to get back into the house, even if I wanted to, and I’ve misplaced Joan’s key. ’
She runs her hand through her dyed red hair. ‘When you do get hold of Simone, what are you going to ask her? How is any of this going to help you solve whatever you think you’re trying to solve?’ She throws her arms into the air, exasperated.
‘I just want to ask her how she knows the Morgans. Or if she knows something about them.’
‘Just because the keyring is similar to Oliver’s it might not be hers. And the newspaper clipping isn’t just about her. It’s about an electrical company winning an award. They might have that for any number of reasons. And you said yourself it might not even be her.’
‘It certainly looks like her. I don’t know what all this means, Jo, but I can’t let it go. Please don’t ask me to.’
‘It’s your life. You’re a grown woman. Just be careful.’
I offer to drive Jo home and we make a detour to Freddie’s house. I pull up across his driveway and text Rufus to say I’m outside.
Jo is in the front passenger seat fiddling with the vents.
Even with the air-conditioning there is still a sheen to her skin.
She sits back in her seat, the aircon on full blast and directed onto her face.
‘That’s bliss.’ She sighs. ‘God, I can’t remember what it’s like to feel cold.
Oh, that reminds me.’ She turns to me. ‘There might be a full-time job coming up at my chambers. How good is your typing? Are you fast?’
I sit up straighter. ‘I think so. I mean, I can touch-type.’
‘It’s just admin stuff, but Betty, who works there now, is retiring soon. I could put in a good word …’
‘Oh, my God, Jo, that would be amazing! Thank you.’
She beams at me. She wants to keep an eye on me, which is lovely in one way but also quite mortifying.
‘Where’s my child?’ I say, looking down at my phone. I’m just about to text Rufus again when Jo nudges me. I glance up to see him walking around the side of Freddie’s house. But he’s not with Freddie. He’s with Jackson.
I gasp.
‘What is it?’ asks Jo.
‘That’s Jackson, Collette’s son. The boy who bullied Rufus.
’ What is he doing with Jackson? And how does Jackson know Freddie?
Freddie is a new friend from college. He didn’t go to Rufus’s school.
Panic travels through me, making me feel even hotter.
Is this some kind of set-up to hurt Rufus?
I lean forwards so that the edge of the steering wheel is pressing against my chest. But, no, it looks like Jackson and Rufus are chatting amicably.
Freddie is nowhere to be seen. ‘What is going on?’ I mutter, more to myself.
‘Maybe they’ve made up.’
‘I don’t understand how. He’s the reason why Rufus left that school.’
‘You know what kids are like. So fickle.’
Unease spreads through me. I watch intently, trying to gauge their body language.
Rufus is standing with his head bent towards Jackson, as though listening intently.
Jackson is the one doing the talking. And then he steps forwards and, to my surprise, embraces Rufus.
I exhale in relief. I still don’t trust Jackson but at least it looks friendly.
He disappears around the side of the house and Rufus walks towards the car. He’s smiling.
‘Hi, Jo,’ he says, as he gets into the back seat.
‘All right, Ruf?’ says Jo, but I don’t speak. Instead I watch as Rufus fastens his seat belt. When he still doesn’t say anything I clear my throat.
‘What?’ He looks up.
‘You? And Jackson? I thought you hated each other. Why is he at Freddie’s house?’
‘Oh,’ he waves a hand dismissively, ‘long story. But it’s all fine between us now. Can we go?’
I continue to sit there, my body contorted so that I can see him in the rear seat. He’s avoiding eye contact. ‘You can’t just leave it at that. I fell out with Collette. I handed in my notice on a job I enjoyed. I did all those things because of the way you were being treated.’
Rufus’s expression closes. ‘I didn’t ask you to do all that,’ he mumbles, still refusing to look at me.
Jo grimaces. I’m making her feel awkward. I turn to the front. ‘Fine,’ I snap. ‘We’ll talk about this when we get home.’ I put the car into gear and pull away too fast from the kerb.