I Could Be You

by I Could Be You (epub)

  ‘Dee?’

  She turned and saw Trevor walking towards her, his face creased in sympathy and grief. Seeing him took some of the tension from Dee’s body, and when he put his arms around her and hugged her, she wanted to stay like that forever.

  He stepped back but kept his hands on her shoulders.

  ‘Wow. You told me you’d been in a scuffle. You didn’t tell me it was this bad.’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Dee said, touching the bandage across her nose. ‘Can you believe this, Trev? He’s dead.’

  Trevor shook his head. ‘Have you heard anything else about how it happened?’

  ‘They can’t tell if he fell or was pushed. It happened in the building where Shane Gilbert lives. I keep going back over our last conversation, wondering if I missed something. I don’t even know how I’m meant to be feeling right now. All I can think about is how good we were together. Before it all went to shit. Remember back then? I thought we were strong enough to get through anything.’ She bit back a sob.

  ‘I remember.’ Trevor smiled. ‘I never thought he’d settle down. Then you turned up that evening in the pub, and it was clear from the moment he clapped eyes on you how wrong I’d been. He was crazy for you, Dee. Even after you split up, I don’t think he ever stopped loving you.’

  Tears pricked Dee’s eyes. None of that mattered now.

  ‘He never had any taste,’ she said. ‘Poor bastard.’

  ‘He had great taste. You were the best thing that ever happened to him.’

  She’d called Trevor last night and they’d arranged to meet here this morning. Trevor was one of the few people left who knew what Billy and Dee had been like together when they first met. He was the only person she wanted to be with right now.

  ‘How’s Melissa holding up?’ she asked.

  ‘She’s a mess,’ Trevor said.

  Dee wasn’t able to dredge up much sympathy for Billy’s girlfriend. She didn’t care if they’d been living together, didn’t care if Melissa was twenty years her junior or twenty times prettier. She knew that whatever sort of relationship Melissa had shared with Billy, it wasn’t a patch on what Dee’s marriage to him had been like during the good times.

  The grief came and went in waves that crashed into her, obliterating everything else, then rolling back for a while to give her enough time to brace herself for the next onslaught. She recognised the cycle, having gone through it after each of her parents died. Disbelief, anger, and then the numbing acceptance that her world had changed forever.

  Another wave hit her now. She put her hand over her mouth, blocking the sounds coming out. Trevor said something she didn’t hear and took her arm, leading her away from the house. She started to pull back before she realised there was no point. It was just a house, and no matter how much she wanted him to be there, Billy wasn’t inside. Billy was gone.

  * * *

  They went to a coffee shop around the corner and sat at a table outside.

  ‘Billy and Mel had an argument two days ago,’ Trevor said. ‘They met for lunch and Billy turned up pissed. Melissa got angry with him and they rowed. She stormed off, leaving him alone in the restaurant. She couldn’t face going home, so she went to stay with a friend. The next thing she heard, he was dead. Naturally, she blames herself. She’s convinced that if she’d gone home that night, he’d still be alive.’

  ‘She thinks Shane Gilbert killed Billy because she didn’t come home?’

  ‘She thinks she could have stopped him going to see Shane,’ Trevor said. ‘She thought Shane was unstable. She’d warned Billy more than once to keep away from him.’

  ‘My laptop was beside his body,’ Dee said. ‘I think I disturbed Gilbert stealing it, and that’s when he did this to me.’ She pointed at her face. ‘I wonder if they argued about it. Billy would have been upset if he knew Shane had taken it.’

  ‘Why would Shane Gilbert steal your laptop?’ Trevor asked.

  ‘He knows I’m on to him,’ Dee said. ‘And he wants to know how much I know. I use my laptop for all my notes when I’m working on a story. Billy would have known that. Maybe he told Shane.’

  ‘It’s still a jump from stealing your laptop to killing Billy,’ Trevor said.

  ‘Maybe.’ She thought of Gilbert’s physique – the excessive muscles of someone who worked out too often. Billy was tough, but he wouldn’t have stood a chance against someone like that. ‘I don’t know. Did you manage to get hold of Leonard?’ She had asked Trevor to contact his old colleague and try to find out why he had lied to her.

  ‘He wasn’t answering his phone,’ Trevor said. ‘So I went around to his flat this morning before I came to meet you.’

  ‘Did he admit lying?’

  ‘Told me he must have made a mistake. Acted like it was no big deal.’

  ‘And you believed him?’

  For the first time since they’d met this morning, Trevor smiled. ‘What do you take me for? Of course I didn’t believe him.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He was still in bed when I got there,’ Trevor said. ‘Silly bugger left his laptop in the kitchen while he went and had a shower. It’s password-protected, so he probably thought it would be safe. I guess he didn’t remember all the times he gave me his password when we worked together so I could log on to the network for him in the morning. He always used the same one – Bermondsey – followed by a number for whatever month it was. I tried Bermondsey08 – for August – and got in right away.’

  ‘You’re far too good to be fronting some stupid TV show,’ Dee said. ‘You do know that?’

  ‘If I had any sense, I’d tell you what I found out and walk away from this. Go back to my stupid TV show and my lovely life. I earn a good living doing that job. I live in a big house in a beautiful part of the city. I have friends. I have girlfriends.’ The smile turned into a grin. ‘Lots of girlfriends.’

  ‘Sounds boring. Don’t you long for a bit of excitement every now and then?’

  ‘You were right about Roxanne,’ Trevor said. ‘I found a load of emails between her and Leonard. He’s clearly mad about her, and the feeling seems to be mutual. I think they’ve probably been seeing each other since the trial. That’s why he lied to you. He doesn’t want you to find her.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I have no idea.’ Trevor drained his coffee and put his cup down. ‘But I was thinking we could go and see her and ask her that ourselves, if you’re interested?’

  ‘How?’ Dee asked. ‘I called the pub this morning. She’s not working this week. I spent half the train journey searching for an address for her, but I couldn’t find a thing.’

  ‘Roxanne Reed lives in Chislehurst. She sent Leonard her address soon after she moved in. Check your emails. I sent it to you this morning.’

  Dee took out her phone. Three new emails. Two spams, and one from Trevor.

  ‘Chislehurst,’ she said, reading the email. ‘Shouldn’t take us too long to get there. That’s if you want to tag along?’

  ‘Of course,’ Trevor said. ‘On one condition.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘When all of this is over, you let me interview you.’

  ‘What? For Sixty Minutes?’ Dee said.

  ‘It’s going to be a great story. Everyone will want to talk to you. Promise me I’ll get the exclusive?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Dee stood up. ‘Let’s find them first, okay?’

  Fifty

  Ella

  On Monday morning, Ella turned on the TV in Roxanne’s sitting room and realised it was finally over. The police knew who she was. Her face was on the screen again. This time, it was her name, not Katie’s, running across the bottom, beneath the photo.

  It was a shock, even though she’d been expecting it. Although she’d spoken about little else with Roxanne, they hadn’t been able to make a decision about what they ought to do. As the days went on, they’d existed in a limbo world of waiting, neither of them knowing when the police would come knocking on Roxanne’s do
or to tell them the game was up.

  They’d thought about running away, but there was nowhere to go. They couldn’t leave the country. Ella had left Eastbourne without Katie’s passport, and she’d never got round to applying for one for Jake. In the end, they’d decided they were as safe here in Roxanne’s house as anywhere else. Apart from Leonard, there was no one who knew they were here. And Roxanne assured her that Leonard wouldn’t tell a soul.

  They’d decided they’d make the most of whatever time they had left. Roxanne cut back her hours at the pub, and the three of them hung out together. Jake had adjusted well to the change of scene, although he missed Dee and kept asking for her. Ella missed Dee as well. Several times she’d thought about calling her friend and telling her not to worry about them, before realising the last thing she should do was involve Dee in any of this.

  Her face disappeared from the screen as the news moved on to another story. She hit the remote, switching off the TV. Here it was, then. The reckoning. She’d spent years running from what she’d done, but in the end, the past had caught up with her anyway. All that time and effort pretending to be someone else; all for nothing.

  Roxanne was in London. She’d driven up first thing to check the pub and make sure things were ticking along without her. She’d told Ella she’d be home by early afternoon, but Ella didn’t think she could wait until then to talk to her. She went into the kitchen, where Roxanne kept her landline, and dialled the mobile number she’d learned by heart.

  ‘I was about to call you,’ Roxanne said. ‘I’ve just arrived at the pub and seen the news. Don’t do anything until I come back, okay? I’m already on my way.’

  ‘How do you think they found out?’ Ella asked.

  ‘We both knew it was only a matter of time. Even if Shane had never found you, you couldn’t have carried on being Katie forever. You know that, don’t you? Katie hated who she was. She wanted to be you. She thought changing her name would change how she felt about herself. But it was never going to be that simple. That’s why she came back. She grew tired of pretending. She wanted to be Katie again.’

  Except she never got the chance. Swapping identities had been Katie’s idea. Ella should never have let it happen, but when Katie had proposed it, it had seemed like the only way out of the nightmare that her life had become. She’d been so scared back then. Fear and anxiety had distorted her ability to see things clearly.

  Katie had been the only person who’d seemed to understand. And Ella had been so pathetically grateful, it had never occurred to her that Katie might have her own reasons for suggesting what she had. But whatever those reasons had been, they hardly mattered now. The only thing that mattered was telling the truth. Finally.

  Fifty-One

  Katie

  Three years earlier

  I’m standing outside Ella’s house, ringing the doorbell. I can see the shape of her body through the glass. She’s scared to open the door because she doesn’t know who she’ll find standing outside. I’ve done this to her. Two months is all it’s taken. Which just goes to show – this is as much about her own guilty conscience as anything I’ve done. If she’d never done anything wrong, she wouldn’t have any reason to think Shane wanted to hurt her.

  I lift the letter box, lean down and shout through the gap. ‘Ella, it’s okay. It’s me, Katie.’

  I hear the shuffle of feet, and a moment later she opens the door. She’s huge. Bigger than she was three nights ago, if that’s possible. Her belly distorts her body and her face is puffed up, giving her a swollen look. I thought she’d be the sort of person who’d look beautiful pregnant. But she doesn’t. Apart from the weight, her skin is pale and unhealthy-looking, her hair is greasy and she has thick black rings under her eyes.

  Inside the flat, it’s obvious she’s started packing. I wonder where she thinks she’s going or how she thinks it could ever be that easy.

  ‘He’ll find you,’ I say, pointing at the half-full suitcase on the sofa in the sitting room.

  Her hands move to her stomach, and when she looks at me, I see fear. Despite this, she shakes her head. ‘He’s not going to find me. No one will.’ She keeps her hands on her bump, as if she thinks that will protect her child somehow. She hasn’t got a clue.

  ‘Hey,’ I say. ‘The last time we spoke, you said you were going to show me your scan photo. I’d love to see it.’ I’m probably pushing things, but it’s worth it to see the pain on her face.

  ‘It’s gone,’ she says.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I woke up the other night and someone was in the house. It was Shane.’

  ‘You can’t know that,’ I say. And I’m right, of course. Because it wasn’t Shane. He doesn’t know about any of this. Ella keeps a spare key in a drawer in the kitchen. I found it the first time I came to visit her. I took it away, made a copy and put the key back the next time I called around. It’s made everything so easy.

  I’ve come here a few times now. Mostly I just stand and watch her sleep, thinking about how easy it would be to stick a knife in that big stomach and kill both of them. But I’m not some sort of psycho, so of course I haven’t killed her.

  The last time was three nights ago. After watching her for a while, I got bored, so I switched on the light in the bathroom and started running the taps. When the noise woke her up, I ran downstairs and left through the back door, making sure to leave it open so that she’d know someone had been in the house. I wasn’t planning to take anything. But I saw the scan photo on the fridge and grabbed it on my way out.

  ‘I’m so scared, Katie.’ Her voice trembles and she gives me this sad look, like she wants me to feel sorry for her. Like she thinks I actually care about her.

  ‘You look terrible,’ I say. ‘Why don’t you sit down and let me make the tea?’

  After the tea is made, we sit in her little sitting room and she tells me what’s been going on. The phone calls and the night terrors – waking up convinced Shane is here in her house. Watching her.

  ‘You need to go to the police,’ I say, when she pauses for breath.

  ‘They don’t believe me,’ she says. ‘I’m like the boy who cried wolf, except I’m the crazy pregnant lady who keeps calling the police. The other night was the second time I’ve run out of my house in the middle of the night. Both times, I’ve knocked on my neighbours’ door and they’ve called the police. But every time it’s happened, I’ve come home and there’s no sign the flat’s been broken into. The police told me Shane hasn’t been anywhere near Bristol. He’s still wearing his tag, so they can track his movements. They gave me a lecture on wasting police time, and told me I should make an appointment with my GP to discuss my mental health.’

  Her hands go back across her stomach. She’s thinking what it would be like to have a baby in prison. How she’d probably have to give it up for adoption or something.

  ‘You said it was a one-night stand.’ I look at the balloon. ‘What made you decide to keep it?’

  ‘I was over three months before I even realised I was pregnant,’ she says. ‘Sounds mad, I know, but everything’s been so… erratic this last year. My mum passed away soon after Tom and I split up. I sort of lost my way a bit. My periods have never been regular anyway. I was sick a few times, but I’ve felt sick for most of the last year so I didn’t think anything of it. By the time I found out, I had less than a week to make a decision. In the end, it was easy. I wanted to be a mum.’

  I can’t pretend to understand that, so I don’t say anything. After a bit, she starts talking again. Yabbering on in a way that’s so unlike how she usually is. Scared I’ll go if she doesn’t keep talking. Because she can’t stand to be alone with her thoughts and her fear.

  My mind flashes back to years ago, when she was working in the pub. Smiling and laughing with the regulars, leaning across the bar and sharing a joke with some old drunk. It’s sad, in a way, to think how much she’s changed since then. Sad for her, I mean. As far as I’m concerned, she deserves
everything that’s happened to her.

  She’s talking about her body clock and maternal instincts, and I zone out until I hear Tom’s name.

  ‘I don’t think I’ll ever have that again with anyone else,’ she says. ‘I know it sounds melodramatic, but that’s how it is. I feel so alone, Katie. With Mum gone, I’ve got no family. I didn’t have any uncles or aunts, so I haven’t got any cousins. My grandparents both died years ago. There’s no one else.’

  She’s such a self-centred bitch. How can she say that to me of all people? She starts talking about Tom and how she still loves him and how she’s sure he still loves her too, and not once – not for a single second – does she consider how shit that might make me feel. How it might make me wonder what’s so special about her and so wrong with me.

  ‘Oh Katie.’ She reaches out and takes my hand. ‘I’m so sorry. I know it’s the same for you.’

  She means we’re the same because we’re both without any family. But it’s not the same, is it? Because her parents died naturally and it was no one’s fault what happened to them. My dad, on the other hand, he’d still be here if it wasn’t for her.

  I squeeze her hand and smile and tell her we’re lucky we have each other. Then I ask if she knows what she’s going to do.

  ‘I’ve deleted all my social media accounts,’ she says, ‘and I’m leaving Bristol. A friend of mine from uni has an aunt living in Eastbourne. She knows someone who’s got a house to rent. It’s only a mobile home, but it’s right on the beach and the rent isn’t too bad. If I move there and keep a low profile, there’s no way he’ll be able to find me, right?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I say, after a moment. ‘If he’s as desperate as you say he is, who knows what he’ll do?’

  There’s a photo on her mantelpiece. It’s Ella with two of her friends. The three of them are in the countryside somewhere. Standing at the top of a hill, rolling fields stretching out behind them. In the photo, she’s wearing her hair in a plait that hangs over her left shoulder. The same way I’m wearing my hair today. I did it like this on purpose. When I was in here last week – while she was at the shops – I saw the photo, and that’s when I first got this idea.