It turned out they had known about Christian and Ellie but hadn’t wanted to tell Julia over the phone. It was agreed that Ellie was a complete bitch and Christian a loser. Julia was right to move on. Going out and getting slaughtered with some guy had been a good move.
‘It’s about time,’ Pearl said. ‘I never could work out why you stuck so long with Christian, the Man at C&A,’ Pearl said.
‘He’s not that bad,’ Julia said.
‘Never seen him out of polyester,’ Andre said.
‘And I don’t know why you’re defending him, Julia.’
‘Habit.’
‘A habit you need to break,’ Pearl said. ‘Get out there and have some fun.’
Maybe next time it would be fun – with someone else.
‘So, tell me about this Brandon,’ Pearl said.
‘There’s not much to tell.’
Pearl grinned at her. ‘You’re a terrible liar.’
Julia opened her mouth to protest then shut it again.
‘Go on, Jules, I tell you everything.’
Julia screwed up her face. ‘It’s just so embarrassing. I don’t even like him much. He’s really not my type and—’
‘Don’t tell me you actually shagged him.’
‘Well …’
‘You really are moving on,’ Andre said.
‘I don’t know,’ Julia said.
‘What’s he like? How did you meet?’ Pearl asked.
‘He’s one of the guys in the house.’
‘Julia, no!’ Pearl looked as if she’d caught her finger in the door.
‘You told me to get out there,’ Julia said.
‘Yes, out not in. Never, ever on your own doorstep.’ She wagged her finger from side to side.
‘Er … Justin?’ Julia said.
‘Justin, exactly, I know what I’m talking about. Worst of both worlds, not getting laid at home and not being able to bring anyone back. A complete nightmare. Never shag your housemate, unless you’re sure you’re going to marry him. Otherwise you might as well wear a chastity belt until you move out. Bloody Justin. One drunken fling with him and I had to become a nun for the rest of the year.’
‘It was on your birthday, in May. You only had a month of term left,’ Julia said.
‘The longest four weeks of my life.’ Pearl waved her finger at Julia. ‘You should learn from my mistakes. Schoolgirl error, Julia Winter, schoolgirl error.’
‘Sorry, Miss,’ Julia said.
‘Pearl’s right,’ Andre said. ‘You can meet someone in London, without what’s-his-name hovering in the wings.’
‘To be honest, I don’t think he’ll care. Seems to have a different woman every other night.’
‘Never underestimate the male ego,’ Pearl said. ‘Just cos he doesn’t want you, doesn’t mean he’s not expecting you to pine after him. Every guy I’ve ever been with thought I had a secret agenda to get him down the aisle. Ha! You should have seen the state of half of them.’
‘So why did you go with them?’ Julia asked.
‘They usually pay for the taxi.’
Julia flicked a peanut at her.
‘Ouch,’ Pearl said, though it couldn’t possibly have hurt.
‘Seriously, Pearl, why?’
‘Just cos they’re ugly doesn’t mean they’re a crap lay. How was Brandon by the way?’
‘Good deflection,’ Andre said.
‘We are talking about Julia tonight. My peccadillos are well documented.’
‘He was OK,’ Julia said.
‘OK good or OK bad.’
‘OK, I was too pissed to tell the difference.’
‘Never mind. At least Christian won’t be the last man you ever sleep with,’ Andre said.
‘That fantasy’s over,’ Julia said.
‘You’ve met someone else now,’ Pearl said. ‘Christian’s history.’
Julia realised Pearl was as inexperienced in love as Julia was in casual sex. A one-night stand with an unemployed carpenter couldn’t erase her eight years with Christian. In fact, sleeping with Brandon had only made it worse. Pearl’s world was bands, booze and boys, in that order. But it just wasn’t Julia, even listening to Pearl’s exploits was exhausting. Julia longed for weekends snuggled on the sofa with a takeaway, a couple of videos and a bottle of wine – her old life.
‘I suppose Brandon’s a start,’ Julia said.
‘Pearl’s encouraging others because she has to live her love life vicariously, now she’s married,’ Andre said.
‘Give it a rest, Dre,’ Pearl said.
‘They’re moving in together,’ Andre said to Julia in a stage whisper.
‘Might be moving in together.’
‘Is that so bad?’ Julia asked.
Andre looked aghast. Pearl ignored him.
‘I wouldn’t mind living in Rudi’s flat,’ she said. ‘I’m so fed up with Fairbridge Road. Rudi has a whole kitchen to himself and central heating that works. It’s just he’ll be expecting other stuff.’
Given their previous conversation, Julia’s mind drifted to unappealing sexual proclivities, but Pearl’s concerns were far graver.
‘He might be expecting to get married and have kids or something.’ Pearl wrinkled her nose.
‘Is that so bad?’ Julia asked.
Pearl leant over and squeezed Julia’s knee.
‘Sorry, darlin’. Wasn’t thinking. Of course, it’s great if you’re ready.’
Julia imagined Ellie curled up on an enormous sofa with Christian rubbing her baby bump.
‘Both of you have to be ready,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t mind, but it’s Ellie. Ellie Martin. The most boring woman on the planet. You know she crochets, and colour codes her holiday photos.’
‘That bad?’ Pearl said.
‘You say she’s boring,’ Andre said. ‘But would you feel better if she was Courtney Love?’
‘If Christian prefers her, how dull am I?’
‘Darlin’, you’re an IT technician,’ Pearl said.
‘Software engineer,’ Julia said.
‘Who was living at home with her mum until a few weeks ago,’ Andre said.
He and Pearl collapsed laughing.
‘Well it’s better than sorting through the mail and picking up somebody else’s dry cleaning, Pearl, which is all a PA does, even if it is at a record company. And Andre – what do you actually do?’
Pearl and Andre were still laughing too much to respond.
‘Even with my job, I’m not as dull as Ellie,’ Julia said.
Andre composed himself sufficiently to say, ‘No one’s as dull as Ellie.’
‘Audrey says that’s what Christian likes about her. Apparently, I’m too volatile.’
‘I’d never call you volatile,’ Pearl said.
‘Audrey’s lovely, obviously,’ Andre said. ‘But she’s talking out of her arse on this one. Christian likes Ellie cos he’s a twat.’
‘You know, Ellie barely spoke to me at school,’ Julia said. ‘Then one day she starts wanting us to hang out together. I’m an idiot. It wasn’t me she wanted to hang out with.’
‘All’s fair in love and war,’ Andre said.
‘All is not bloody fair. She nicked my boyfriend. I’m gonna let her know – write her a letter. Have you still got mice in your place, Andre? I could send some droppings.’
‘Whoa.’ Pearl held up her palms and spoke slowly. ‘Put the bunny back in the hutch.’
‘She deserves it,’ Julia said. ‘Am I just meant to take it – let her get married and have babies and live happily ever after with my boyfriend?’
‘Julia, you know we love you, so we’re telling you for your own good, you’ll just look psycho,’ Pearl said. ‘It might even give Ellie a thrill. Play it cool like you don’t care.’
‘I do care.’
‘Don’t let them know. And you’ve got this new bloke – Brandon, is it?’ Andre said.
‘He’s not my new bloke.’
‘He could be.’
‘No, he couldn’t. I want someone …’
Perhaps it was the cider, or her general confusion, but apart from Christian, Julia wasn’t sure what she did want.
‘While you think about it, I’ll get the drinks,’ Pearl announced.
‘You’ll never get to the bar – it’s five deep,’ Andre said.
‘I wasn’t going to the bar.’
Pearl smiled and turned to the group of lads behind her.
‘Hi, guys,’ she said.
You had to admire Pearl, she didn’t lack confidence. The boys were looking them over. Perhaps Andre and Julia would ruin Pearl’s chances, or they’d only get a drink for her. But Pearl shouted, ‘Two lagers and a cider, thanks.’
Pearl and Andre were right, she shouldn’t be waiting around for Christian to realise his mistake. It wasn’t going to happen. And if her future husband wasn’t here, among this group of lads in Pearl Jam T-shirts, he might be in the next group or the one after that.
The fact that Pearl and Andre thought she had become dull was a warning. She didn’t want to end up like Audrey, keeping house for a man, raising his children and yielding to his every preference without question, while he indulged in weekend golfing excursions and business trips, which always required the attendance of his latest attractive young secretary.
Julia would change, become someone new.
Andre nudged her elbow, making her spill her drink.
‘Hey, no brooding. We’re not doing maudlin tonight,’ he said. ‘Christian wasn’t the right one for you. There are millions of guys out there.’
Julia watched the man in a Pearl Jam T-shirt opposite down his pint in one and belch proudly to his friends.
‘Millions,’ she said.
Chapter 24
2017 – Guildford Police Station
So, the worst has happened. The discovery of Brandon Wells’ body has led to here, to me sitting in a cell at Guildford police station, drumming my fingers on my second cup of coffee, waiting for my solicitor to arrive. I used my right to inform someone of my arrest to call Pearl. She burst into tears when I told her. Rudi grabbed the phone and shouted, ‘Don’t answer any questions, Jules. I’m sending someone.’
Does Sam know his mother’s been arrested for murder? Will it confirm that he’s right to hate me? Has Gideon been arrested too? Is he sitting in another room identical to this one, idly checking his fingernails for dirt, cool, unruffled, unconcerned? And what about Alan?
My mind’s spiralling. What do the police know? What can they know? Their suspicions can run from here to the Antarctic and back, they can’t prove anything. Then why am I here? Did someone see us? No, we would have been reported at the time. And we were careful to leave no clues. They’ve nothing more than suspicion, I tell myself, and remain unconvinced.
My solicitor arrives and I’m taken to the consultation room and given another cup of coffee. I imagined all solicitors to be like Graham, who did the conveyancing on our house. He hailed from Basingstoke and had the nervous habit of continually pushing his glasses back to the bridge of his nose with his index finger. Shazia Haider has a Yorkshire accent, a no-nonsense attitude and a nose stud.
‘Good to meet you, Julia,’ she says.
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, which scan me, taking my measure in moments. She sits down and places a file on the desk between us. I sense she’s not come to tell me it’s a mistake and I’m free to go. In all probability I’ll be spending the night back in that a cell. I delay the moment she’s going to have to tell me all this.
‘How do you know Rudi?’ I ask.
‘From university.’ Her face relaxes and, this time, the smile does reach her eyes. ‘It seems a long time ago now. And of course, Rudi went over to corporate, the dark side.’
‘I thought criminal law was the dark side.’
‘The majority of his clients are far more morally compromised than mine. Sometimes Rudi sends one to me, for misdemeanours outside the boardroom. But we’re not here for that.’ Her smile fades. ‘Tell me about Brandon Wells.’
A hulk of a lad, not much older than Sam is now. Drinking, so as not to admit he was lonely and homesick.
‘The truth is, I’d not thought about Brandon for years, until the police came to see me,’ I tell her.
Shazia nods, a cool, impassive gesture, merely conveying acknowledgement, not concurrence. I wonder if all her clients lie to her.
She spends some time reading through the notes she’s been given and making ones of her own. I gaze aimlessly around the room we’ve been allocated, spartan, functional, grey walls and plastic chairs. I look down at my coffee. A cold film is forming across its surface.
Shazia finally looks up from her file. She places an elbow on the table and her hands under her chin.
‘Why am I here?’ I ask.
‘Gideon and Alan have been arrested too. The police believe that the three of you killed Brandon to stop him getting hold of the money Mrs Pike had withdrawn from her bank account. You kept it for yourselves,’ she says. ‘As far as I can see all the evidence is circumstantial. Are you aware of anything concrete?’
‘No.’
‘My guess is that they’ll try to get you to incriminate each other. They’ve little to go on, so far, if you all stick to the same story – that you know nothing about it. Do you think the others will do that?’
‘They should do but … I don’t know if Rudi told you.’
‘We didn’t speak directly,’ she says. ‘Are you not on good terms with them? Any particular reason they’ll blame you?’
I explain the situation.
Shazia looks to the ceiling and exhales.
‘Not ideal,’ she concedes. ‘But it will be difficult to incriminate you without incriminating themselves. I know Gideon’s solicitor. He’ll advise him to take the same line as me. Is it likely he’ll follow his advice?’
‘Gideon will do what’s best for Gideon. He won’t say anything.’
‘And Alan?’
‘He’ll do what Gideon tells him, but …’
‘But?’
‘He’s the most likely to change his story.’
An admission that there is an alternative narrative. Again, Shazia gives me that cool nod.
‘Brandon left. No one knows when. But Warren and Akande are assuming someone in the house killed him,’ I say.
‘Assumptions won’t get them far. The Crown Prosecution Service want facts,’ Shazia says. ‘And they’ve yet to produce any physical evidence. Is there anything else you need to tell me – anything incriminating the police could find out? I don’t want any surprises.’
I think about the phones. Shazia notices my hesitation.
‘Julia, this is a murder inquiry. The police won’t be cutting corners.’
‘Someone has been texting me about the case,’ I say. ‘I changed my mobile provider, got a new phone, number and SIM. But I hadn’t got round … I mean, it’s backed up to my laptop.’
‘What did these messages say?’
I tell her about the website links, the landline call – better get your story straight – the silent call after Warren and Akande came to see me.
‘And you’ve no idea who could be sending the messages or making the calls?’
‘I thought it might be one of Brandon’s family, trying to freak me out.’
‘What makes you think that? How would they get hold of your number?’
‘They hired a private detective, back in the Nineties. Michael Lancaster. They could have done the same again?’
She writes down the name.
‘I’ll check him out. In the meantime, we’ll tell the police about the messages and calls. Is there anything relating to your phone you won’t want them to find?’
‘No. Nothing.’
I can’t bring myself to tell her about the second phone. The same sense of shame that compels an alcoholic to tell medical staff they only drink a couple of glasses a night.
Shazia leans back in her chair and pic
ks up the file. ‘This isn’t much to go on. Either there’s more they’re not telling us or they’re waiting on tests. Is there anything else the detectives know or are likely to find out that could link you to this death? It’s best if you’re honest. There’s a suggestion in the file that Brandon had a girlfriend in the house. Was that you?’
‘No,’ I say.
Shazia’s sharp. She should have been a police officer. She waits a moment before saying, ‘But?’
I close my eyes. How can some images fade after a couple of days and others remain so sharp? Decades later, I still see that blotchy dolphin tattoo and recall the exact orange-brown shade of the carpet.
‘But we did have a one-night stand.’
‘I see.’
‘I denied it when the detectives first came to see me. I was embarrassed. It was meant to be a secret. But apparently, he told his friend and I’m pretty sure Lucy knew. She was the other lodger.’
‘It’s best if you’re up front about this, or anything they can prove. It’s better to admit to an unpleasant truth than to be caught lying. Is there anything else?’
‘There’s nothing,’ I say.
I hear raised voices and bitter accusations, recall the sensation of hot blood soaking through my sleeve.
‘Good. And remember, we don’t have details of how Brandon was found, how he was buried, what he was or wasn’t wearing,’ Shazia says.
Her tone is casual, but she’s giving me a warning. Don’t mention anything you shouldn’t know. If criminal solicitors only represented the innocent, they’d soon be short of work.
‘Most people’s memories would be foggy, more than two decades after the event,’ she says. ‘“I don’t remember” or “No comment” are acceptable answers. What you mustn’t do is ramble or try to fill in gaps. You’ll get drawn into admitting to seemingly insignificant things, which could be turned into major issues by the police and prosecution, if it goes to court, which I’m going to do my best to avoid.’
‘I get it.’
‘Warren and Akande are going to go in hard, try to fluster you, confuse and above all make you think that Gideon and Alan are blaming this on you – tempting you to make counter accusations that would actually reveal your involvement. Before you answer any question, breathe, think. “I don’t remember” and “No comment”. Are we clear?’
The Verdict Page 11