Chapter 22
Jameson is waiting for me in the hall and it’s hard not to run full tilt into his arms.
‘Eilish.’ He stops short of touching me too and I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed. If they’ve been colluding and keeping secrets from me, then he’s part of it. It cuts so much deeper to think of Jameson lying to me.
I glance behind me but there’s no sign of Alex. He was right behind me in the long gallery, but perhaps he returned to the library to clean up the evidence of his drug-taking.
Or to take more coke. But that’s not my problem.
‘I need you to tell me the truth.’ I grab hold of Jameson’s arm and pull him down one of the maze-like corridors that branches off the main hall.
The passage is dark, and as we stand facing each other I can barely make out his features.
Maybe it’s easier having this conversation in the dark.
‘I want to know what it is you’re all hiding from me.
I want to know the truth about what happened to Genevieve that night. ’
Jameson says nothing.
‘Please, Jamie.’ I use the old name deliberately, hoping that it does something to him the same way it drags me back.
‘What Alex said about someone being in the water with Gen, and then Kimmy having a go at Gen and saying how everyone hated her … And Alex is acting so strangely – I just caught him doing coke upstairs.’
‘Shit.’ Jameson rubs a hand across his hair. He turns away from me and a moment later floods the space with light from a lamp mounted on the wall, designed to look like a medieval wall-sconce. Some things at Tarnmore are just too much.
‘Is it true that Gen was horrible to Becca? And did she really turn Alex in?’
‘The last thing I want to do is diminish your friendship with Gen. She’s also not here to defend herself, but … yes, that’s all true.’
‘And no one thought to tell me.’
He looks at me strangely. ‘We talked about it that night, on West Sands. So I thought you knew … until you told me you don’t remember that night.’
We talked about her?
Maybe while we were plotting revenge.
No.
I shake my head, confused. ‘I can’t believe she’d treat Alex like that.’
‘He was collateral damage,’ Jameson says reluctantly, perhaps realising there’s no way out of this conversation. ‘It was Leo she wanted to hurt. That was her way of getting back at him for cheating. She’d already destroyed Kimmy, so it was Leo’s turn to feel her wrath.’
‘But Leo didn’t get kicked out.’
‘No, that wasn’t the point. She knew Leo feared his father much more than he feared the university authorities. It didn’t matter to her if he lost his place at St Andrews or not, she knew what would happen when his dad found out.’
I am silent, processing that. It’s true that Leo always seemed scared of his dad, and he avoided being home as much as possible. Despite the lavish lifestyle, the fancy holidays and restaurants, I wonder if his home life was miserable. A cage is a cage, even if it’s made of gold.
‘Eilish, the way Gen reacted to Kimmy and Leo’s affair, well it wasn’t normal. There was nothing rational about her response. She wanted to punish them, make them pay. What she did to Kim was … horrific.’
I take a shuddering breath, wondering now how I could ever have played it down, made excuses.
He’s right, it was horrible. ‘What about me?’ I say.
Kimmy has twice hinted that Gen mistreated me.
‘People seem to be suggesting that she did something to me too, but that’s not true. I … I would remember.’
Maybe not, if my mind decided I wasn’t strong enough to handle it and cushioned me from those memories too.
Jameson looks sorrowfully at me. ‘Eils,’ he says softly. His pity is hard to take. Just that single syllable tells me what I need to know: there was more to Genevieve Learmonth than I have ever understood.
‘I need you to tell me the truth.’ I am exhausted. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. ‘Did we … conspire that night. Did we get together and …’ I falter over the word. ‘Drown her?’
Jameson’s eyes fly wide and he takes a step backwards. ‘What? No … No!’
I believe him. I let out a breath. ‘Oh good, because I was starting to imagine some Murder on the Orient Express scenario. If Alex and Kimmy are right then we all had reason to hate – or at least resent – Genevieve. It seems like Alex thinks one of us killed her, that we all … wanted her dead.’
Jameson rubs a hand across his mouth. ‘We didn’t make some murder pact on West Sands, I promise you that … But yes, Alex and Becca both think there was more to her death than just an accident.’
‘That means they think one of us …’ I swallow. The next question is the hardest of all to ask. ‘Jameson, did you have a reason to dislike Gen too?’
Slowly, he nods.
‘And did you also … want her dead?’
Jameson takes both of my hands in his and leans towards me. His expression is earnest; his eyes fixed on mine. ‘I have never wished anyone dead in my whole life, Eilish. I promise you that. But, yes, she wronged me too. I had good reason to dislike the girl.’
‘Can you … tell me what she did?’
He takes a deep, shuddering breath. ‘I’d rather not.’
I nod, respecting his wishes. I want to know, but I want to hear it from him. When he’s ready.
‘What did Gen do to me? I have to know, Jameson. I need you to tell me.’
He drops my hands, turns away. A moment later he looks back at me.
He is miserable. ‘All right. The thing is, you were vulnerable when you first came to St Andrews. Which makes sense, after what happened to your mum. But Genevieve … took advantage of that. She didn’t just monopolise you, she controlled your every move.
Like you couldn’t do anything without Gen being there, or without her permission.
And she really didn’t like to share you.
I liked you for months before we got together but it was almost impossible to talk to you, to attempt any kind of relationship.
She didn’t like you swimming, or going out without her; she barely let you out of her sight.
So many times I wanted to talk to you about it, but you wouldn’t hear a bad word about her.
You seemed to really love her, so …’ His mouth twists.
‘She hated it when we finally got together. She even tried to make me break it off with you, and then when I refused …’ He tails off and gives another heavy sigh.
He might as well be describing a stranger, a character. There’s nothing in his depiction of my relationship with Genevieve that rings true.
And yet …
She is in every single St Andrews memory. The only time I ever met Jameson alone was at the pool, or when he sneaked into my dorm room late at night.
Questioning the validity of my friendship with Genevieve is too much for me to cope with after all the revelations of the past twenty-four hours. I’m not ready for it.
I shouldn’t have come here.
It’s too difficult, after all, to retrace my steps; the way is too unclear, too muddy. ‘I thought I could do this, Jamie, I can’t. I’m sorry.’
*
I re-enter the drawing room, certain that things can’t possibly return to the way they were at the start of the night. For me, at least, this reunion is over.
Of course, I can’t actually leave, thanks to the snow still hurtling down, the impassable track, the red weather warning.
I’m trapped here at Tarnmore.
Euan and Leo are half-heartedly playing chess, chatting about one of Leo’s cases.
Kimmy and Becca are drinking more Champagne and talking quietly.
I don’t know what to do, how to conduct myself.
The casual way they’re acting feels incongruous.
Everything is so precarious now, like the snow with its deceptive crust on top, crumbling to nothing beneath.
I keep slipping, plunging through the drifts, into the depths of my mind where it’s cold and dark and unfathomable.
Alex has returned too, standing with his back to me, looking out the window. Perhaps I should plead exhaustion and go to bed. Maybe the snow will ease overnight and I’ll be able to leave in the morning.
Wishful thinking.
Through the gap Alex has cleared in the curtains, flakes hurtle against the window frames, sinister in their determination.
Though no one looks directly at me as I enter, I sense that they all notice my return. Jameson comes into the room behind me, picks up the whisky decanter, pours himself a dram and knocks it back in one swallow.
I tune in to Becca and Kimmy’s conversation – which is about some content creator Becca thinks is just amazing – and then Leo and Euan’s.
Euan says speculatively, ‘Don’t you ever feel bad, defending people who might be guilty of the worst sorts of crimes?’
Leo launches into a monologue about the justice system and the basic human right to be defended in a court of law.
‘You can’t ever really know, I suppose,’ Jameson says, chipping in, leaning over Leo’s shoulder to examine the chess board. ‘Without a confession.’
‘What are your thoughts on the death penalty?’ Euan asks Leo casually. ‘For serious crimes, like … murder.’
Both Becca and Kimmy pay attention as Leo dives into another soliloquy. The air shifts, taut.
‘Jesus, Euan, that’s a bit deep,’ Becca complains, trying to lighten the mood with her airy tone.
‘Now Leo won’t shut up all night,’ Kimmy says. ‘Debating capital punishment is not my idea of foreplay.’
Leo gives a short bark of a laugh, but winds up his pontificating. He knows which side his bread is buttered on.
I need to get out of here. I take a step, but suddenly Alex swaggers away from the window and puts himself between me and the door. ‘Let’s get back to business, shall we?’ He looks directly at me as he says it.
‘Alex,’ Becca says in a low voice. ‘I think we’ve all had enough of this.’
Alex has a wild look in his eyes that suggests he’s just getting started.