City of Second Chances

by Jane Lacey-Crane

I groaned and put my head in my hands.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’ll be old news come tomorrow.’

  Judy arrived at our table, arms laden with food, just as Rachel was putting her phone back in her bag.

  ‘You saw it, then?’ she said to me. ‘It was you, wasn’t it?’

  I nodded. ‘Yes, but it’s not what it looks like.’

  ‘In my experience, it never is, sweetheart. But you do know him though?’

  ‘Yes, I know him. We both do, in fact.’ I gestured to Rachel. ‘We all went to college together.’

  ‘And Evie used to date him,’ said Rachel, with a grin.

  ‘Really? Oh, my Lord, that’s amazing. What was he like?’

  ‘He was lovely but she’s exaggerating a bit. We went out a couple of times – we were friends more than anything.’

  ‘Until he quit college to pursue his acting dreams and we never heard from him again,’ said Rachel, popping a French fry into her mouth.

  ‘Did he break your heart, honey?’ Judy looked at me hopefully – this would be a much better story if that was the case.

  ‘What? No, of course not. Those stupid tabloids have blown it up out of all proportion. I bumped into him in the bookshop, we said hello, how are you? And that was it.’

  ‘And the kiss?’ said Rachel, leaning forward eagerly.

  ‘The kiss was a peck on the cheek, a hello from an old friend. That’s it.’

  Judy and Rachel exchanged disappointed looks. ‘Spoilsport,’ said Rachel.

  ‘Are you going to see him again while you’re here? The play he’s in is a sell-out but I bet you could get a ticket,’ said Judy, giving me a knowing wink. She nudged Rachel on the shoulder with her hip and Rachel started to chuckle.

  ‘Oh, shut up, the pair of you. Leave me alone while I eat my pancakes.’ I picked up my knife and fork and attacked the plate of food in front of me.

  Twelve

  After my brush with celebrity at the diner all I wanted was to run back to my sister’s apartment and hide. The idea that my face was on a celebrity gossip website made me want to heave. I could feel a familiar weight settling on my chest; a millstone capable of making even the simplest task seem like a mountain to climb. I knew I had to fight the urge to go under; many years of coping with these feelings had taught me that if I wanted to stay afloat, I had to keep moving. It didn’t always work – with the best will in the world no amount of ‘just getting on with it’ would help if my strangely wired brain decided that today was the day it was going to blow a fuse – but sometimes it worked. Thankfully, I was with one of only two people in my life that really understood that.

  ‘So, what now, then?’ Rachel asked, stepping out of the diner and onto the pavement next to me. She watched me closely as I pulled on my hat and shoved my hands into my pockets. ‘Fancy a walk?’ she asked, linking her arm through mine.

  ‘Do you think they’ll start trying to find out who I am?’ I asked.

  ‘Who? Oh, no, of course not. It’ll all be forgotten about tomorrow.’

  ‘Because if they do, then they work out why I’m here, I didn’t tell the kids about Olivia… They’ll be upset… if… if…’ I could feel myself starting to panic; a tight feeling was spreading across my shoulders as I held myself rigid.

  ‘Right, listen to me. Breathe, Evie, everything’s fine. No one will care about some stupid pictures on the Internet.’

  ‘You’re right. I know you’re right.’

  ‘How about I call Kate? She did say she wanted to take you shopping for running gear.’

  ‘And you,’ I reminded her.

  ‘Er, no, thanks. I’ll pass. My running days are long behind me.’

  ‘Are you sure? I can highly recommend it for taking your mind off things. It’s hard to dwell on stuff when your thighs are burning, and your lungs feel like they might explode out of your chest.’

  ‘Sounds lovely,’ said Rachel. ‘I can’t imagine why more people don’t do it. It sounds like a magical experience.’

  I laughed at Rachel’s horrified expression. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s just walk for a bit. See where we end up.’

  I nodded, pulling my hat down a bit lower. Rachel cackled.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mystery Internet Woman, if anyone recognises you I’ll be your bodyguard. I’ll tackle ’em to the ground before they get too close.’

  ‘Very funny.’

  We walked along arm in arm, past nail salons and mobile-phone shops. Neither of us spoke much, apart from the occasional, ‘Look at that…’ or, ‘Shall we go this way?’ The sky looked heavy; more snow was on the way, I thought. An image of a cabin in the woods, looking picturesque covered in snow but hiding a gruesome secret, suddenly popped into my head. It was unsettling.

  ‘Penny for them?’ asked Rachel.

  ‘Nothing much. Just feeling a bit lost.’

  Rachel stopped walking and looked around. ‘We’re not lost. Look, up there and turn right and we’re almost home. I think.’ Rachel looked unsure.

  ‘I don’t mean lost like that, I mean in here.’ I pointed to my heart. ‘I jacked in a perfectly good job—’

  ‘Which you hated,’ interrupted Rachel.

  ‘Which I hated. But at least I could pay my bills. And all to come here – for what?’

  ‘For Olivia.’

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t think that’s it, or at least it’s only part of it.’

  We’d come to a small park surrounded by iron railings with benches set amongst the trees. I pushed open the gate and Rachel followed me over to a bench; we sat facing a small children’s play area in the middle of the park. I saw a group of mothers laughing and chatting, drinking coffee from paper cups and keeping a watchful eye on their kids.

  ‘That used to be us,’ I said to Rachel, pointing over to the women.

  ‘I don’t think I ever made it out of the house looking as good as that when Sean was little.’

  She was right; those young mothers looked perfect: neat hair, clothes without sticky marks on them and some of them were even wearing heels, for God’s sake.

  ‘It’s all a front,’ I said, after watching them for a few minutes. ‘They’re all trying to look like they have everything under control, but they don’t. None of us do. They’re like swans, floating serenely on the surface but paddling like billy-o underneath, just trying to stay afloat.’

  ‘I never saw myself as a swan,’ said Rachel. ‘More like a permanently exhausted pigeon. Thank God those days are behind us.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I said. The truth was, I missed that feeling of being rushed off my feet, doing things for the kids, for Tom. When he died, I still had Grace and Sam to run around after, to fill the void that his death created. But they were both out of the house now too; it was just me, in that house, surrounded by memories. This trip to New York had more than a whiff of running away from home about it. How old was too old to run away from home?

  ‘Look, Evie, I know things might look a bit scary at the minute, everything’s up in the air, you’re not sure what’s going to happen next. Believe me, I think I can understand that feeling better than anyone.’

  ‘Oh, Rach, I’m such a stupid cow. Of course, I know you get it. I didn’t mean to make you think about everything that’s going on with you and Martin. Ignore me, I’m just being silly.’

  ‘It’s all right. I just wanted you to know that you’re not on your own in feeling a bit all at sea. And maybe coming all this way with no real idea of what was going to happen wasn’t the best plan we’ve ever had.’ Rachel held my hand. ‘But you know what, we’re here now. Let’s try and make the best of this weird situation we’re in. Let the chips fall where they may, as they say over here.’

  ‘Do they really say that?’

  ‘All the time.’

  ‘Then that’s what we’ll do,’ I said, with a conviction I didn’t really feel.

  *

  ‘They look really good on you, Evie. We’re definitely getting them. My treat.’


  I looked at the fluorescent turquoise trainers on my feet; I didn’t think I’d ever owned a pair of shoes quite that bright. I turned my foot from side to side, trying to imagine what I’d look like in them when I attempted to run. Like Batman, I’d always favoured black, in everything. Clothes, footwear – the brightest item of clothing I owned was probably my red woolly hat with the furry pom-pom on. That was my one nod towards colour and even that only came out when it was really cold.

  ‘Don’t overthink it,’ said Kate. ‘You look great. If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you choose some black leggings to run in. I won’t put you in these bad boys.’ She held up a pair of Lycra running tights in a bright shade of fuchsia pink and I thanked my lucky stars I’d avoided that fashion faux pas. I took the trainers off and put them back in the box, before handing them to the shop assistant. Kate and I wandered through the racks of running gear, with her pulling out wholly inappropriate items of fitness wear for me to try on. We found Rachel perched on a stool over by the changing rooms, looking at her phone.

  ‘Hey, we thought we’d lost you,’ I said. ‘You have to help me. Kate keeps trying to get me to try on crop tops. I’ve told her that those days are long gone but she refuses to listen and I’m still trying to find a sports bra that’s going to be able to keep these puppies under control.’ I’d been blessed, actually I’d say more like cursed, with an ample bosom that needed some serious support during any form of exercise. Rachel didn’t reply.

  ‘Rach? Everything all right?’ I said, plonking myself down on the stool next to hers.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. I was just looking at some photos.’ She held up her phone.

  ‘Of?’

  ‘Me, Martin and Sean. In Dorset last summer. It was such a great holiday, the three of us together. So happy.’ Rachel had a dreamy look on her face that I didn’t want to ruin by reminding her that when she’d returned from that particular holiday she’d done nothing but complain about how awful it had been. Sean had refused to come out of the hotel room most days, except to eat, preferring to watch TV or play games on his iPad, and Martin had developed a keen interest in fishing that had resulted in Rachel spending most of the week by herself. If rewriting this bit of family history made her feel better for the moment, who was I to judge?

  ‘What are we looking at?’ Kate hustled over, carrying an armful of psychedelic Lycra.

  ‘Nothing. Just some old photos,’ replied Rachel, shoving her phone into her bag. ‘What on earth have you got there?’

  ‘Just a few bits for you both to try on.’ Kate grinned mischievously.

  ‘Oh, no, no way,’ said Rachel, standing up. ‘You’re not getting me into any of that.’

  Kate shrugged. ‘Okay. Fine. Here, Evie, you try these on.’

  I held up my hands and backed away. ‘All I need is a sports bra and I’m done.’

  ‘Spoilsport.’ Kate shoved all the items back onto a nearby rail. ‘Let’s go and pay for this lot, then.’

  ‘And then can we have cocktails?’ asked Rachel, hopefully. ‘And food. I’m starving.’

  ‘Sounds like a top plan,’ I said.

  But the universe, it seemed, had other ideas. As we were waiting to pay for our overpriced running shoes and Lycra torture wear, my phone started to ring. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw an unfamiliar number flashing on the screen. I held it up for Kate to see.

  ‘That’s a New York number. Who’s that going to be?’ she asked.

  ‘Only one way to find out,’ I said. ‘Er… hello?’

  ‘Mrs Grant?’ It was Lieutenant Bittenbinder.

  ‘Yes, hello, Lieutenant.’

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you, Mrs Grant, but I was wondering if you and Mrs Connors would mind coming back to the precinct? I’ve spoken to the FBI lead on the case we talked about – she’s a buddy of mine. Anyway, she’s agreed to meet with you to answer any questions you might have. She’s coming in to Manhattan for a meeting at headquarters and then coming here.’

  Food and cocktails suddenly seemed like a vague prospect.

  ‘Of course, that’s no problem, Lieutenant. What time do you need us to be there?’

  ‘Can we say around 5 p.m.? Is that okay?’

  I looked at my watch; it was almost four. Definitely no time for cocktails, which was a pity as I felt like whatever this FBI person was going to tell us would go down much easier with a stiff drink or two in hand. ‘Of course, Lieutenant. We’ll see you then.’ I didn’t wait for his reply, I just ended the call.

  ‘Was that J.J.?’ asked Rachel. Kate raised an eyebrow and I groaned. ‘What? He said we should call him J.J.’ Rachel gave us a sweet smile.

  ‘Yes, that was Lieutenant Bittenbinder. He wants us to come back to the police station to talk to someone from the FBI.’

  ‘Blimey, that sounds serious,’ said Rachel, all trace of a smile gone. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Just that we should be back at the police station at five.’

  ‘Right, well, we’d better get a move on. It doesn’t give us much time to get across town. And traffic will be a nightmare. You need to get going,’ said Kate, taking our shopping bags from the young man behind the counter and shoving me and Rachel towards the shop door.

  ‘Maybe we should get the subway?’ I said. ‘Avoid the traffic that way?’

  Kate looked at me as if I’d just made the most ridiculous statement in the history of conversation.

  ‘The subway is the last place you need to be during rush hour. Imagine the Tube back home but multiplied by about a hundred! Plus, you’d probably end up on the wrong train. No, much better to hop in a cab, get as close as you can and then leg it the rest of the way if you get stuck.’ She stepped into the road and flagged down a cab. ‘I’ll see you back home. We’ll go out and have some fun once you get back.’

  ‘Cocktails?’ asked Rachel.

  Kate laughed. ‘Yes, Rachel, cocktails. Now get going.’ She kissed me on the cheek and gave me a hug. ‘It’s going to be all right,’ she whispered into my ear.

  I nodded and then climbed into the taxi beside Rachel.

  ‘What the hell just happened?’ said Rachel. ‘One minute we’re buying trainers, the next we’re on our way to see the FBI.’

  I didn’t say anything; my mind was racing. What should we ask? What information did they already have? Was the fact that everything was happening so fast a good thing, or a bad thing? A vaguely queasy feeling ran through me and I grabbed Rachel’s hand for reassurance. She squeezed it back and gave me a thin smile.

  ‘It’s going to be all right. Whatever happens, we’re going to be fine.’

  Thirteen

  We pulled up outside the precinct a few minutes after five o’clock. Kate had been right: the traffic was a nightmare. As I looked up at the squat red brick building my stomach started to churn. Was this the moment we finally might get some answers? It was too much to hope for.

  Delores the receptionist eyed us disapprovingly as we made our way to her desk.

  ‘We’re here to see Lieutenant Bittenbinder,’ I said. She tapped something into her computer and then spoke without looking up at us.

  ‘He was expecting you at five,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, well, the afternoon took an unexpected turn. We’re only a few minutes late,’ snapped Rachel. Delores looked up and then back at the computer screen in front of her. She tapped her keyboard again and then waved us towards the bench.

  ‘Take a seat, please. He’ll be with you in a moment.’ And that was that; Delores was done with us and we were dismissed. Rachel was gearing up to say something; I could see it in her eyes.

  ‘Come on, Rachel, let’s go and sit down.’ I pushed Rachel towards the bench; I didn’t want her kicking off. We were in a police station, for God’s sake – everyone was heavily armed. For all I knew, Delores herself was packing a pistol under her desk.

  Rachel gave me a petulant sounding, ‘Fine,’ before giving Delores ‘the look’ and taking a seat on the bench. The foyer sme
lled like disinfectant and it reminded me of school. It was a smell that hung around and got up your nose. It was an institutional smell, I realised. It wasn’t helping my queasy stomach and I leant forward with my head between my legs.

  ‘Did you drop something?’ asked Rachel.

  ‘Very funny. No, I didn’t drop anything, just trying to stop myself from throwing up.’

  ‘I’ll get you some water. Hold on.’

  Rachel went across to the water cooler in the corner of the foyer and filled a plastic cup. ‘Here you go,’ she said, sitting back down beside me. I downed the water gratefully.

  ‘Weird, isn’t it? We came here for answers and now I’m not sure I want them,’ I said.

  ‘Well, it’s too late now,’ Rachel said, standing up and fluffing her hair. ‘Here comes J.J. now.’

  I rolled my eyes at her attempts at preening and stood up next to her. I watched the lieutenant approaching us from the far end of the office.

  ‘Mrs Grant, Mrs Connors, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. Please, come with me.’

  We followed him back the way he’d come. We weaved our way between desks strewn with paper and takeaway coffee cups. I noticed that someone had attempted to spread some Christmas cheer by sticking fake evergreen garlands along the edges of some of the desks and a rather sad looking pink tinsel tree stood on a table in the middle of the space between the water cooler and the copy machine. I even thought I could hear Christmas songs coming from somewhere, like a radio playing in a room all by itself.

  ‘Please, right this way, ladies.’ The lieutenant guided us down a narrow corridor and then pushed open the first door we came to. ‘Mrs Grant, Mrs Connors, this is Special Agent Barbara Crosby. She’s the lead investigator up in Albany, where they found the remains.’ A tall grey haired woman turned to face us as we entered the office. She shook both our hands and gestured for us to sit by the desk.

  ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Please, take a seat.’

  Lieutenant Bittenbinder sat behind his desk and waited for Agent Crosby to speak.

  ‘Welcome back to New York. I’m sorry it isn’t under better circumstances.’