Chapter Fifty-One
Gil
Daniel gave me a necklace that belonged to Jo. It’s a beautiful gold heart with a ruby embedded in the centre. I swear it smells of her perfume. God, I miss her so much. I wear it every day to feel her close to me.
I’ve lost count of how many weeks it’s been since she left us, but I made a promise to myself that I would spend as much time with Joel as I could.
I know Jo would have wanted that. Nicola and I have become very close, and she’s more than happy for me to pick Joel up from preschool on my days off, so I can spend some time with him at the apartment.
Daniel hasn’t revealed his plans for the future, but I know the house is on the market.
I can imagine the vultures flocking to see where that murder took place.
But who’d seriously want to buy a house where someone was murdered? I shudder at the thought.
I stand at the gate with the mums. They all smile, but I see the sympathy in their eyes.
There has been a lot of press coverage following the news of the murder.
The bloody media somehow got a photo of me comforting Daniel at the memorial.
I bet some people think we are having an affair, or maybe even that I was party to her murder.
I loved Jo like a sister. Yes, I was envious of her at times, who wouldn’t have been? But she was my best friend.
I wish they’d caught the bastard before he had that bloody heart attack, then at least we would have known where Jo was and could have given her the send-off she deserved. It would have given us all closure.
Nicola is going home early today. Her parents are downsizing, and she’s helping them move into their new flat. Joel and I are going to Donald and Julia's.
The doors to the preschool open, and the children come tearing out, their faces bright. In their hands are pictures. Joel rushes to me, and I swing him around before putting him back on his feet.
‘For mummy,’ he says, holding up his picture.
I’m about to look at it when a parent approaches me.
‘Sorry to bother you,’ she says, although she doesn’t look sorry. ‘But do you know if Mr Neal would take a lower offer on the house? I mean, after all that’s happened, we wondered…’
I stop her in her tracks. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not discussing that while I’m with him.’ I nod towards Joel. ‘And I’m not the estate agent,’ I add, grabbing Joel’s hand and marching off.
I feel tears sting my eyes. Where the hell are people’s sensitivities?
***
When I arrive at Donald and Julia’s, the large kitchen table is laid ready for lunch. My distress must still show, because Donald asks, ‘Are you alright?’
I sigh. ‘I was waiting at the nursery school for Joel, and a woman asked me if Danny would take a lower offer on the house.’
‘What the…’ begins Julia.
‘Ignore them,’ says Donald, taking my coat.
‘Come on, sit down or lunch will get cold,’ Julia says.
‘Any news on the house?’ Donald asks, refilling my plate with quiche and new potatoes.
‘Lots of viewings, but I think they’re just vultures, wanting to see where it happened. I hate the whole thing.’
‘I’d buy it off him and pull it down, but I don’t want to put money in his pocket.’
‘Donald,’ says Julia harshly, ‘don’t pull Gil into this. She was a good friend to Joanna.’
‘I know. I’m sorry, Gil,’ he says, tapping me on the arm. ‘But something about this whole thing doesn’t feel right to me.’
This piques my attention. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Don’t get him started, Gil,’ begs Julia.
‘This Stuart guy, for a start. They searched his house and found nothing to indicate he even knew Joanna, let alone was stalking her and planning to kidnap her. He had no connection to the hospital and—’
‘Alright, Donald,’ says Julia.
‘And what happened to that builder guy? He just disappeared.’
I can’t disagree with him because the same thoughts have been going through my head. ‘I know,’ I say. ‘I’ll check with DS Blackford. I want to be sure they are still following up leads.’
‘I’ve been thinking of hiring a private detective,’ Donald says.
‘Right, enough!’ says Julia firmly, scraping back a chair. ‘We’re going to have a nice lunch with no more talk on the subject.’
I lower my head. I should have made her get into my car.
Joel and I stay until four, then say our goodbyes and head back, laden with a box of leftover quiche.
As we drive home, I find myself thinking of Stuart King.
I’ve tried to get the newspaper pictures of his huge body and greasy hair out of my mind.
The thought of Jo being locked up with that monster makes me want to vomit.
Without her body, we don’t know if he raped her.
If only they’d find her body. The feeling of nausea suddenly turns into a tight pain across my chest. I brake sharply, open the door and throw up.
I’m breathing hard when I close the car door.
‘Sorry, love,’ I say, turning to Joel.
‘Okay,’ he smiles.
My heart lurches.
‘Do you understand about Mummy, Joel?’
He nods.
Oh God, don’t let me throw up again.
‘Did Daddy tell you?’
But he’s not listening now. His head is buried in another drawing.
I restart the engine and continue our journey. I deliberately drive home via Wootton and along Millwall Lane. A For Sale sign stands in the driveway.
I decide to phone Josie. I can’t demand that the police carry on looking for Jo’s body, but surely I can ask what’s happening with the investigation?