“Yes.”
“So you’ll know…Dave Calder is a sweetheart, you want to pick him up and cuddle him. And Jeff…he’s outrageous, but if you’ve met him you’ll know that.” Emma looked at me shrewdly. “Did he make a pass at you?”
“Yes.”
“Quite a crude one?” I nodded. Emma’s voice went lower. “I hadn’t met him, it was my first day with Phil at the recording studios, and I was making coffee. He came up behind me and put his hand up my skirt. Phil told him off, and he made some stupid joke. I was quite upset, because I’d been so excited about meeting the band.”
“Poor you!”
“Oh, it was all right, Phil said that’s just the way he was, not to take any notice. He was right, Jeff was okay after that. And Bryan and Dave were really nice to me, even before they knew me.”
“Do you mind talking about Bryan Orr?”
“No. It used to be too painful, all I could think of was that dreadful day…but now I can remember the good times. Bryan loved me so much, you know; he’d have done anything for me. He was going to write me a song. He wanted to marry me, but I’d known him such a short time.” Emma lowered her eyelids, and her lovely mouth turned down. “Of course, now I wish I’d said yes and made him happy.”
“What about Ric Kealey?”
“Ric…he was so gorgeous, that’s the first thing you noticed about him. Film star good looks. I remember, when Phil introduced us, I was literally speechless, like a schoolgirl. Totally in awe of this guy. A rock god.” She laughed a little, ruefully. “And he was always so rude to me.”
“Was he? Why?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think he liked it when I started going out with Bryan. He and Bryan were at school together, you know. They were best friends.” Emma pushed her plate with its untouched sandwich away from her. “Ric was always getting at me. Because I was there quite a lot with Bryan, he started calling me the Fifth Voice, and I could tell he didn’t mean it in a nice way. I tried to ignore his attitude, but it got worse. Then he started staring at me. I used to catch him doing it, and when our eyes met he didn’t smile, he’d just go on staring…” She shivered. I waited, but she seemed to have stopped.
“Why did he do that?”
“I think he fancied me. He used to make excuses to be alone with me. If I left the room, he’d follow. Discreetly. But when we were alone, he’d just put me down. Everything I said was stupid, or boring. He made me cry once. I don’t think Bryan noticed, and I didn’t say anything, because Ric was his friend.”
So there had been more between them than Ric admitted, and he had found her attractive…but couldn’t do anything about it while she was going out with Bryan. And his (not very nice) way of dealing with it was being horrid to Emma. Not his type, indeed. I thought he’d been hiding something. And he had…and no wonder, because the truth showed him in a bad light.
“I started getting silent phone calls in the middle of the night on my mobile when Bryan was away, never when he was there. Hardly anyone had the number. There’s no proof it was Ric, of course, but he knew when I was alone, and he could have got the number easily, too.” He still had the number… “I didn’t report it or tell anyone because of Bryan. But I remember one night, the band was doing a charity concert in Birmingham. I hadn’t gone, though I wanted to, because my agent was taking me to an awards ceremony, and I couldn’t get out of it. I was in the flat on my own. The phone rang five separate times. It was scary. In the end I stopped trying to sleep. I got up, wrapped the duvet round me, and watched a film.”
“Why didn’t you turn the phone off?”
“My mother had an operation the week before. She was only just out of hospital. My father might have needed to get hold of me.”
I was getting a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. This was a side to Ric I hadn’t encountered, and I didn’t like it. I was afraid, going by Emma’s beautiful, troubled face, there was more to come, and I wouldn’t like that either.
“The next morning, when Bryan came home, Ric was with him. He said, ‘Emma, you look terrible. Huge bags under your eyes. Didn’t you get any sleep last night?’ Then he smiled.”
There were cake crumbs on the ridged surface of the antique wooden table. Old pitch pine. Like Saladin’s stand. The wood might have come from the same forest. I pressed my finger on some crumbs, and transferred them to my plate.
“The day before Bryan died, I went with him to Tiger Studios. The band was doing a remix. They couldn’t get on with it because Ric hadn’t arrived. We were hanging around for hours, then he showed up. He was drunk, and stoned too. Not staggering-about-drunk - Ric didn’t do that. He just got so no one could deal with him - he was out of control.” That’s what he’d said… “He was really offensive to Jeff, and Jeff just took it, and that surprised me. Then he started on Bryan, and Bryan was like, come on guys, we’re here to do a remix. Ric said, and three years later I can remember every word of it, ‘So what’s Emma doing here, then? I didn’t realize remixing was among her areas of expertise, in fact I’d rather assumed there was only one thing she was good for, and that’s got nothing to do with music.’ And then Bryan hit him.”
This tallied with Ric’s own account, except Ric had said he couldn’t remember how the fight started. Emma’s story sounded all too plausible.
“They had a fight - it was dreadful - Dave and Jeff pulled them apart. Ric left, and you’ve probably read about what Bryan yelled at him. It was in the papers. The next day I was on my own in Bryan’s flat. I’d moved in with him the month before. The bell went, and it was Ric, and he pushed his way in. I told him Bryan was out, and there was no point him waiting, because Bryan didn’t want to see him. He told me to mind my own business. Then he started shouting at me, and I slapped him. He grabbed my arm, pulled me towards him and kissed me. He was very strong. I struggled, but I couldn’t get away. I tried to, but I couldn’t.”
Emma paused, and her big hazel eyes filled with tears.
“And then he raped me.”
Chapter
16
*
I sat at the table, unable to speak for a moment, staring at her, shock and dismay squeezing my heart and making my legs tremble. I felt winded. Ric had raped her…and lied to me about it. I’d thought I knew him, and I was wrong. I didn’t know him at all.
“That’s…awful…” I put my hand on her shoulder. Her perfume was stronger close to.
A tear spilled on to Emma’s cheek. “He kept saying it was what I wanted, he’d seen the way I looked at him, and I said no, and he just laughed and dragged me into the bedroom. I said, please, Ric, don’t, think of Bryan, and he said, fuck Bryan.”
Emma wiped away the tears with the inside of her wrist. I dug into my bag, found a wodge of tissues and gave them to her. She mopped her eyes. The tears were pouring out of them, running down her face. She was crying the way I had when my mother died.
“I did my best to fight him off, but I was so much smaller than him, I hadn’t got a chance. In the end I stopped resisting and let him get on with it, get it over with. I didn’t hear Bryan come in. Suddenly he was in the room, pulling Ric off me, screaming at him, hitting him. I couldn’t bear it, I had to get away. I ran out of there, and kept running till I got to my flat in Kings Cross. I ran a bath, I took off all my clothes and put them in the bin, I scrubbed myself, washed my hair, ran the water out and did it again to try to feel clean. I had bruises all over. I couldn’t stop sobbing. Everything was spoiled.”
“Oh poor you, how terrible…” I patted her, inadequately. “How could he… Is it too painful to talk about? You don’t have to tell me, I’ll go away if you want.”
Emma said, “No, I feel better getting it out into the open. I’ve hidden it for so long…” She blew her nose, and gave a small smile. “There, I’m all right now.”
“So what did you do? Did you ring the police?”
“I couldn’t face it - their questions, examinations, looking for evidence…” Emma shuddere
d. “And do you know the conviction rate for rape?” I shook my head. “Six per cent. That’s all. And you have to wait for months, and go to court, and be called a liar, and be in all the papers…”
I looked away from her pale, distraught face - still beautiful even though her eyes were swollen and her nose pink - and gazed at my plate. I felt as if I’d never eat again. I felt sick.
Emma sat up straight. “But now I want people to know. What happened, what Ric Kealey was really like. Because it’s the truth, and it should be told. I wasn’t strong enough before, but I am now. I’m doing an exclusive interview with the News of the World next week. They’re paying me, but that’s not the point. It’ll be good publicity for my album. Do you think that’s frightfully cynical of me?”
“No…if it makes you feel better about it…if it turns an appalling experience to something positive…”
She breathed deeply; she was calmer, less vulnerable. Maybe it had helped her, telling me. “What else do you want to know? I’m okay now.”
“If you’re sure? What happened when you went back to the flat and found Bryan?”
Emma’s eyes closed briefly, as if to shut out the memory. “That was the worst moment of my life. I rang Bryan, and he didn’t answer. So I went back to the flat. I didn’t want to, after what happened. I was afraid Ric might still be there. I let myself in. My hand was shaking so much I could hardly get the key in the lock. I opened the door slowly, listening. The flat was silent. I thought maybe it was empty. Then I saw Bryan sitting against the wall. There was blood on the carpet, but I didn’t realize he was dead at first. I went up to him and tried to rouse him. I saw the knife and pulled it out…” Emma took a deep breath. “Blood gushed out of the wound, and ran over my hand. I was terrified. His head fell forwards. I dialled 999, got the police and an ambulance. I was hysterical, and the girl the other end was so calm…it was unreal.”
Being raped, then finding the dead body of your boyfriend. Ric’s doing. I couldn’t find any words. The room felt colder. Emma went on.
“Lots of police and paramedics arrived, swarming all over the place. About six police cars outside, lights flashing. A woman police officer took me in the kitchen and made me a cup of tea and I couldn’t drink it. I told her about the rape, then I decided I couldn’t face pressing charges. They were understanding about that, they knew why I didn’t want to. They said Ric would go into custody, and I had time to reconsider if I wanted to. They were nice. Everyone was very kind to me.”
We sat quietly side by side at the table, both wrapped in our own thoughts, the recorder recording our silence. A key grated in the front door lock, then I heard the door closing. Feet approached the kitchen. Emma looked up with a smile.
“Phil, I didn’t know you were in London today. How nice.”
Bloody hell. Phil Sharott. He glanced at me, and focused on Emma.
“Emma, are you all right? You look upset.”
“I’m fine, it’s just I’ve been telling Vikki about the day Bryan died. Thinking about it always makes me cry. Vikki, this is Phil Sharott, my manager. Phil, this is Vikki Wilson, we’ve been doing an interview. She’s writing a book about The Voices.”
Phil walked towards us. In his hand was a plastic-wrapped Hackney parking ticket, which he put on the table.
“Miss Wilson. Delighted to meet you.”
“Er…hi. I’m just off.” I turned to Emma. “Thank you very much for being so frank. I appreciate it. Best of luck with the album launch.”
“Thank you.” Emma got up and smiled. Her tears had dried. “If there’s anything else you think of, just ring me. You’ve got my number. Anything at all I can help with, don’t hesitate.”
I slung my handbag over my shoulder and picked up the recorder. “Goodbye, Emma.” I made for the door.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” said Phil pleasantly.
“I came by tube.”
“Then I’ll walk you to the station.”
“There’s no need, truly. I know the way.”
“I insist. Emma, I won’t be long, I wouldn’t want Miss Wilson getting lost.”
Emma looked surprised, as well she might. I followed Phil into the mews. He started on me as soon as we were out of sight of the house.
“Really, Miss Tallis, you’ve upset Emma and made her cry. That’s not kind.”
“She wanted to tell me—”
“Tell you what?”
“About the day Bryan Orr died.”
“Only because you lied to her and told her you were writing a book.”
I didn’t answer. I wanted him to go away. I wanted to be on my own. I walked briskly, though I didn’t feel brisk, Phil tagging along beside me.
“What are you playing at? You said you were seeing a customer about a horse. Coming here, pretending to be someone you are not, deceiving Emma, distressing her and wasting her time for reasons which I frankly cannot fathom… Did Ric put you up to this? What on earth did you hope to achieve?”
“I should have thought that was obvious,” I muttered sulkily. He was talking to me as though I was a badly-behaved schoolchild.
“What are you trying to prove? That Ric’s innocent? Because that’s what you want to believe? Did she tell you what Ric did to her?” He scrutinized my face, and nodded. “I see she did. I hope you like what you discovered today.”
I hadn’t liked it. I increased my pace. I didn’t want to spend any longer in his company than I had to. When I was alone I would think about Emma’s revelation, and what to do about it. Phil accelerated to keep up with me.
“As for the murder, you really should give me some credit. I’m a lawyer. I’ve seen the evidence. The police don’t have any doubts. You don’t know how hard it was to persuade the judge to let him out on bail. You going around impersonating people, telling lies, playing private detectives, isn’t going to help anyone, least of all Ric. This was his idea, wasn’t it?”
I said nothing. I marched rapidly past the rich people’s houses towards Marble Arch, eyes facing front, as if he was a stranger hassling me.
“He needs to get back abroad and keep his head down. I’m sorting out the money as fast as I can. I’m going to ask you to wipe that interview you’ve just done with Emma. Give me the recorder.”
I was still holding it. I jumped away and put it in my bag, and did up the zip, not slackening my pace.
“Hand it over, Miss Tallis.”
“No, why should I?”
“Because it was procured under false pretences. You’ve no right to keep it.”
“Tough. Try and stop me.” I was practically running now.
Phil made a grab for the handbag. He got hold of the strap. I jerked it away, but he held on. I stopped and spun round, nearly bumping into him. The mixed emotions of the last hour condensed into rage and rushed through me. I was so furious, I was tempted to take a swipe at him. That would wipe the superior expression off his face. I glowered.
“Let go or I’ll scream.”
He didn’t move. A young woman pushing a buggy passed us; she stared, then averted her gaze. I drew a big lungful of air, opened my mouth, and he took his hand off the bag. We stood, a foot apart, staring angrily at each other, breathing hard. Phil’s eyes dropped first. He made to walk away, then paused, turned, and said,
“Clearly I am wasting my breath trying to reason with you. You’d better go back to Ric and see what he wants you to do next. Fortunate for him that he’s found someone so credulous. You’re the only person who believes his fairy tales, and are likely to remain so.”
I watched his tall figure stalk away down Connaught Street. My whole frame was shaken by my breathing and my frantically-pumping heart. I decided I’d get rid of the adrenaline sloshing round my system by walking home.
It would give me time to work out what to do.
Chapter
17
*
Desperate to keep moving, I hovered at the red lights amid the confusion of cars, street signs and people t
hat is Edgware Road. A gap in the traffic - I dashed across, a driver blasting me with his horn and yelling. Bastard. The grey sky had darkened to match my mood. A gritty wind blew in my face.
I wanted to get home…but Ric was there. Ric…I’d liked him, trusted him - been a little in love with him, I could see that now. And he’d been lying to me all the time. He was a rapist and a murderer. Right, so I would go to a police station, the one at Shepherdess Walk, and tell them. They’d think I was mad at first, but I’d make them believe me. They could have my keys, go and arrest Ric, take him away, and then I could go home. I wouldn’t have to see him. End of story. I’d get back to the life I had before. Dog - I would keep him, Ric couldn’t have a dog in jail.
Misery swept over me and I wanted to cry. I sniffed, and fished in my bag for a tissue. I’d given them all to Emma. A search of my pockets came up with one, disintegrating and rolled in a ball.
Upper Berkeley Street, Portman Square, Manchester Square. Why had Ric made me go and see Emma, knowing what she could tell me? Had he counted on the fact that she’d kept quiet about the rape all these years? Then what did he hope she’d tell me that might help him? If he was guilty of rape, did it follow that he was also guilty of murder? My head ached and I couldn’t think straight.
It wasn’t credible Emma had made it up. No one could be that convincing, the way she’d cried. Surely. And why would she make it up? To get publicity for her album, a boost to her career, and a lot of money from a tabloid - would that be incentive enough to invent such a story? Was she that manipulative? I didn’t know her. I only met her that afternoon. I had liked her, thought her natural and friendly, sensible and good-humoured. I might have been wrong.
Wigmore Street, Regent Street, Oxford Circus; packed with people hurrying, dawdling, talking on their mobiles, laden with carrier bags, the street solid with nose-to-tail red buses. I remembered the day I bought the clothes at Topshop, on the way to collect Ric’s money. Phil Sharott - where did he fit in? He wasn’t averse to breaking the law, however fond he was of adopting a high moral tone. He’d faked Ric’s death, set up dodgy accounts, and provided illegal drugs. Perhaps he supplied drugs to The Voices. I must ask Ric. Except I wouldn’t see Ric again, and I wouldn’t be doing any more investigating either. I pressed on down Oxford Street, the crowd thinning. Light rain prickled on my face.
Remix (2010) Page 10