I Could Be You

by I Could Be You (epub)

  She’s still holding my hand, and she squeezes it again. She’s smiling and she looks so happy, and I think this is it. She’s going to suggest I come with them. Because she knows it’s every bit as difficult for me as it is for her.

  ‘I can’t wait,’ she says. ‘And we’ll stay in touch, won’t we? I mean, we can email and stuff. You could even come visit maybe?’

  ‘Of course,’ I say.

  I pull my hand away and tell her I’m tired. She slips out from under the quilt and stands up.

  ‘Sleep tight,’ she says. ‘See you in the morning.’

  After she’s gone, I lie on their sofa, thinking about what she’s told me and how she’s made me feel. I can’t let her go to Australia, that’s for sure. There’s at least another year before Shane is released, and I need Ella here, in the UK, when that happens.

  Her relationship with Tom is built on a pack of lies. I bet he wouldn’t stay with her if he knew the truth. He sure as hell wouldn’t give up everything and follow her all the way to the other side of the world.

  She’ll never tell him, of course. But I wonder: what would happen if I did?

  Forty

  Dee

  Dee picked Tom up from Eastbourne station. She stood near the ticket barriers scanning the faces of the people coming off the train until she saw him. Tall and lanky with light brown hair, hazel eyes and a smattering of freckles across a nose that was slightly crooked. He came through the barrier and stopped, looking around as if he wasn’t sure where he was meant to go next.

  ‘Tom?’ She stepped towards him and he smiled.

  ‘Dee.’ He held his hand out for her to shake. ‘Good to meet you. Thanks so much for coming to pick me up.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ Dee said. ‘My car’s outside. This way.’

  As they walked to the car, she tried not to stare at him. Struggling to get over the shock of recognition when she’d seen his face for the first time. She wondered if he knew, and if not, how she was going to tell him.

  She drove along the coast back to her house. Tom, who told her he’d never been to Eastbourne before, raved about the bits of it he could see from the car. The raving continued when he saw where she lived.

  ‘This house is amazing,’ he said as he followed her inside. They had to enter through the back door. The front was still boarded up following the burglary. ‘Was it like this when you bought it? Or did you commission the work yourself?’

  ‘I didn’t build it,’ Dee said, unwilling to talk about her parents to someone she barely knew. ‘Milk with your coffee?’

  ‘Black for me. You don’t know the name of the architect, do you?’

  Dee, midway through plunging the cafetière, paused to look at him. ‘What’s it to you?’

  ‘I studied architecture at uni,’ he said. ‘Never worked as an architect, mind. I mean, I loved it at the time, but I moved back to Ireland soon after graduating and ended up working as a production designer. Movies, TV, stuff like that. How about yourself?’

  Dee put the cafetière, cups and a plate of biscuits on a tray. ‘Here. Make yourself useful and carry this outside for me.’

  More gushing when they were on the deck, but at least the view had taken his mind off the house.

  ‘I don’t know this part of the world at all,’ he said. ‘And this place… Look at the view. It’s incredible.’

  ‘Won’t you sit down and have some coffee? All that hopping around is making me uncomfortable.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He sat as instructed. ‘I’ll pour, will I?’

  ‘Thanks,’ Dee said. ‘And when you’re done, you can tell me all about you and Katie.’

  He frowned, a look that didn’t suit him. He had a face made for smiling.

  ‘Have a biscuit,’ Dee said. She selected a chocolate chip cookie for herself and slid the plate towards him.

  ‘You weren’t the only person who’s been trying to get in touch with me,’ Tom said. ‘My pal Brian – I think you contacted him as well? – sent me a link to the story. It said a woman had been killed in a hit and run and the police wanted to speak to Katie about the incident. There was a photo with it. That’s why Brian sent it. He thought I’d be interested.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The way the story was written implied Katie was driving the car that ran the poor woman over.’

  ‘That’s what the police seem to think. Although they have no proof of that. It’s true someone was killed. And it’s also true that Katie hasn’t been seen since it happened, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she was the driver. You and Katie are friends – is that why you’re here?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ Tom said. ‘Maybe. I don’t know. Yes, Katie’s a friend. Was a friend. An ex-girlfriend. Although we only dated a few times. We both worked out pretty quickly that we were better suited as friends than anything else.’

  ‘I knew it.’ Dee spoke before she could stop herself. ‘You’re Jake’s dad.’

  ‘Jesus, no. We split up years ago. We kept in touch for a bit. She was in Australia by then, but we exchanged emails. She never said anything about a baby. And she would have, right? I mean, if she was pregnant and about to have a baby, surely she wouldn’t have kept that from me?’

  ‘I never knew she lived in Australia,’ Dee said. ‘But I didn’t know much about her, I guess. You’re the first friend of hers I’ve met.’

  ‘She can be a bit difficult to get to know. Apart from me and Ella, I’m not sure she had many other friends.’

  ‘Katie and Ella are friends then?’ Another piece of the puzzle fitting into place. ‘I’ve been wondering about that.’

  ‘They were friends,’ Tom corrected. ‘It was Ella who introduced me to Katie. But that was ages ago. Ella and I split up and I started dating Katie soon after that. It caused a rift between them.’

  Dee refilled both their cups before speaking.

  ‘Let me make sure I understand this properly. You’re a friend of Katie’s.’

  Tom nodded his head.

  ‘And when she moved to Australia, the two of you stayed in email contact.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And after she moved to Eastbourne?’

  ‘That’s the thing,’ Tom said. ‘Katie never moved to Eastbourne.’

  ‘You’ve lost me.’

  ‘It’s not Katie. The woman in that news story. The one the police are looking for. She’s not Katie Hope.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ Dee said. ‘She rents that house from me. We’ve lived next door to each other for over two years. I’ve seen her almost every day. I sometimes get her post by mistake. I’ve got copies of her bank statements, a driving licence, employer references. If she’s not Katie, then who the hell is she?’

  ‘She’s Ella,’ Tom said. ‘That’s why Brian got in touch. He saw the photo and he knew it wasn’t Katie. The woman the police are looking for is Ella Tate.’

  Forty-One

  Katie

  Three years earlier

  She’s pregnant. The bump’s not that big, but I noticed it right away. We haven’t seen that much of each other recently. She didn’t like it when Tom and I got together. She would have liked it a lot less if she’d known I was the reason they split up. I told him about my dad. Not everything, of course. All I had to do was tell him that Dad was killed and Ella was a witness at the trial. I acted as if I assumed he knew all about it. He played along as best he could, but he didn’t fool me. I knew he’d ask her about it. And I knew she wouldn’t be able to lie to him. She told him the truth and, unsurprisingly, he couldn’t handle hearing what his perfect Ella was really like.

  I thought Tom and I were meant to be, but things didn’t work out the way I wanted. He wasn’t ready for another relationship. We’re still friends, and I pretend I’m okay with that. I never let on that he meant a lot more to me than I clearly did to him.

  But we’re not here today to talk about Tom. He’s part of our shared history, but not part of our future. Shane’s out of prison, and that’s changed ev
erything. Ella called me yesterday and we arranged to meet this morning for, in her words, ‘a coffee and a catch-up’.

  She’s already there when I arrive. Sitting down, so I don’t notice the bump until she stands up. When she sees me looking at it, she blushes and puts her hands over her stomach.

  ‘Congratulations,’ I say, doing my best to keep the tension out of my voice. ‘Who’s the lucky father?’

  Tom swore they’d never get back together, but that was a year ago, and people can change. Besides, it was clear – even when he was with me – that he was still crazy about her. Despite everything she’d done, he wanted to be with her, not me.

  ‘It was a one-night stand,’ she says. ‘I don’t even know the guy’s name.’

  She doesn’t say anything else, but she doesn’t have to. It’s enough. I couldn’t bear it if she’d said it was Tom’s. The two of them getting back together in spite of my best efforts. Tom choosing her over me, like everyone else has always done.

  ‘I heard he’s moving back to Ireland,’ I say.

  ‘Tom?’ She shrugs like she doesn’t care, but I know her better than that. Those red patches on her cheeks appear, and when she changes the subject, asking me if I want a coffee, there’s a definite tremor in her voice.

  ‘I’ll go and order the drinks,’ I tell her. ‘You stay here. What would you like?’

  By the time I come back a few minutes later, she’s composed herself. She sips her lemon and ginger tea and smiles.

  ‘The morning sickness is terrible,’ she says. ‘This is about the only thing I can drink without throwing it straight back up again.’

  Too much information, but I smile and pretend I give a shit while I wait for her to get to the real reason she’s contacted me. I don’t have to wait long.

  ‘Have you heard from Shane?’ she asks.

  ‘Shane?’ I frown, pretending to look confused. ‘Why would I hear from him?’

  ‘Because you were visiting him when he was in prison. I sort of assumed you’d carry on seeing him when he got out.’

  She’s right, but no need to tell her that. We’re seeing quite a bit of each other, as it happens. Prison’s changed him. He’s not the cocky, confident arsehole he used to be. If anything, he’s a bit of a loser now. He keeps telling me he loves me, and maybe that’s true. All I know for sure is that actions speak louder than words, and if he really loves me, he knows what he needs to do to prove it to me.

  ‘I just want to get on with my life,’ I tell her. ‘Put all that behind me and look to the future. You can do that too, can’t you? I mean, you’ve got a baby to look forward to. That’s pretty exciting.’

  ‘I’m scared,’ she says.

  ‘Oh Ella.’ I reach across the table and take her hand. ‘What’s happened?’

  She tells me, but there’s no need. A week ago, she received a letter from someone who didn’t sign their name. Naturally, she skips over the details, only saying that the content was ‘threatening’. Which isn’t quite true. I know exactly what the letter says because I typed it and hand-delivered it myself. It lays out exactly what Ella did, and ends by telling her she isn’t going to get away with it. She’s also had a series of text messages – also threatening – from a withheld number, and ten phone calls where, each time she answers, the person at the other end doesn’t say anything.

  Shane doesn’t know about any of this. It’s been harder than I thought, getting him to understand what needs to be done. Last night, he told me that all he wanted was to put the past behind him and get on with what’s left of his life. Or ‘our life’, as he insists on calling it. As if I’m still that stupid fat seventeen-year-old girl who’ll do anything he wants.

  ‘I hope you’ve told the police all this,’ I say, knowing she wouldn’t dare.

  ‘You think I should?’ she says.

  ‘Yes.’ I squeeze her hand. ‘You have to tell them. He sounds unhinged. You could be putting yourself and your baby in danger.’

  She chews her lip. ‘I don’t know,’ she says eventually. ‘Maybe I should just leave. Go somewhere he’ll never find me.’

  ‘He’ll find you wherever you go,’ I say. ‘If that’s what he wants. But maybe it isn’t. Look, he’s only just got out, right? There’s every chance he’ll get bored with this and move on with his life. He must know if he keeps harassing you like this he’ll end up back in prison.’

  ‘I guess,’ she says. ‘Sorry, Katie. I just feel so confused and alone. My mum died a few months ago and I haven’t been coping too well. I can’t seem to get any perspective on things.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear about your mum,’ I tell her. ‘I didn’t realise she’d passed away.’

  ‘Cancer,’ Ella says. ‘It’s been a horrible time. But you know better than anyone what it’s like to lose both your parents.’

  ‘It can feel very lonely,’ I say. ‘And I get how that loneliness can make you lose perspective. But I really think you need to stop worrying so much about Shane. Wait and see what happens over the next few weeks. If things get worse, we’ll come up with a plan. Chances are nothing else will happen. He’s had his fun and that’s the end of it.’

  ‘Okay.’ She nods. ‘Maybe you’re right. I’m so glad I called you, Katie. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.’

  Forty-Two

  Dee

  ‘There must be some mistake,’ Dee said.

  ‘No mistake,’ Tom said. ‘I lived with her for three years. I’d know her anywhere.’

  They were walking east along the beach, towards Normans Bay. They stayed on the stretch of sand that appeared when the tide was out. It made for an easier walk than clumping across the shingle higher up the beach.

  Dee’s mind was racing, chasing different pieces of information and trying to put them together into something coherent. But she couldn’t get her mind past the fact that Katie – lovely, funny, kind Katie – was someone else entirely.

  ‘You need to tell the police,’ she said.

  ‘I’m going to do that later today. I wanted to come here before speaking to them.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Maybe I thought I’d find something that would explain what’s going on. Or something that would help me find her. The police think it was Ella who killed that woman, don’t they?’

  ‘They think the woman who lived next door to me and called herself Katie Hope killed her,’ Dee said. ‘If she’s really Ella, then yeah, they think she killed her.’

  She didn’t mention Shane Gilbert, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him. If Billy was right, Shane had gone to prison for something he didn’t do. Which meant Ella Tate and Roxanne Reed framed him. Which meant one of them had killed Katie’s dad. If it was Ella, if she’d killed once before, would that make it easier for her to kill a second time? Dee had no idea, because there wasn’t one part of her that could believe her friend – Katie or Ella or whatever her real name was – capable of something like that.

  Waves lapped at her feet. Any minute now the tide would turn, and before long the sand would be covered over.

  ‘We should turn back,’ she said.

  ‘You said the detective leading the investigation is called Ed Mitchell,’ Tom said. ‘But the person who contacted me was someone else. Lewis, I think?’

  ‘Rachel Lewis. She works with Ed. We’ll call her when we get back to the house.’

  ‘What do I tell her?’ Tom asked.

  ‘You tell her what you told me. That the woman living in my mobile home for the last two and a half years isn’t who we all thought she was.’

  As it turned out, Ed was standing outside Dee’s house when she and Tom got back from their walk. Dee introduced the two men to each other, explaining that Tom was a friend of Katie’s who had some news Ed might be interested in.

  ‘My colleague’s been trying to contact you,’ Ed said. ‘You’re a hard man to track down.’

  ‘I’ve been travelling,’ Tom said. ‘Sorry. I’ve got a meeting with DC
Lewis this afternoon.’

  ‘Good,’ Ed said. ‘There are a few things we’re hoping you can clear up for us.’ He looked at Dee. ‘Any chance of a coffee before we all start sharing what we know?’

  Dee told them to sit on the deck while she made the coffee. Tom did as he was told, but Ed insisted on hovering inside, watching her in the kitchen. His presence irritated her, and the way he kept looking at her was making her feel self-conscious. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to remember if she’d brushed it when she got up. And when she’d last washed it.

  ‘How did you and this Tom guy hook up?’ he asked.

  ‘He’s out there,’ Dee said. ‘Go and ask him yourself instead of interrogating me, okay?’ She banged the cafetière onto the tray beside the mugs, milk and sugar. ‘Open the back door so I can carry this outside.’

  ‘I’ll take it.’ He leaned past her and lifted the tray before she could protest. As she watched him place it carefully down on the table and sit opposite Tom, she wondered if Ed Mitchell ever did anything he was told.

  He waited until they were all sitting down and the coffee had been poured before asking Tom what he was doing here. Tom told him about the email he’d received from his friend. How he’d seen the photo and realised immediately that the woman the police were looking for was Ella, not Katie.

  ‘I thought it was a mistake,’ he said. ‘You know, that they’d got the wrong photo. But that’s not what’s going on, is it?’ He looked at Dee. ‘You’re her neighbour and you think she’s Katie too. Which means that all this time, Ella’s been pretending to be someone else.’

  ‘How long were you with Ella?’ Ed said.

  ‘Three years.’

  ‘Is Jake your son?’

  ‘Jake?’ Tom frowned. ‘Oh, Katie’s kid. No. Katie and I… that was years ago. We… Oh God. Shit.’

  He put his cup down and stood up. Walked onto the beach and bent over, his hands on his knees, looking as if he was about to throw up. Dee went after him.