Cruel Summer

by James Dawson

  A good person would not have looked in the envelope. A good person would have sealed it in a sandwich bag to prevent ‘evidence’ from being ‘contaminated’. Alisha was under no illusion that she was one such saint. She tore the envelope in her haste to get inside – and glimpsed photos and letters.

  ‘What’s that?’

  Alisha recoiled, snatching the stash to her chest. It was Katie coming in through the terrace doors. ‘OMG, Katie!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know Roxanne said she had “evidence”? I think I just found it.’

  SCENE 33 (CONT.)

  Katie’s eyes widened. ‘What? How?’

  Alisha held up the paperback. ‘This was hers. Ryan must have missed it. I found an envelope inside.’

  ‘Oh, my God! What’s in it?’

  ‘I don’t know. Do you think we should look?’

  ‘Er, yeah.’ Katie looked out of the terrace doors.

  ‘Where’s Ben?’ Alisha asked.

  ‘He’s throwing rocks into the sea.’

  ‘Moody.’

  ‘Quite!’ Katie scurried to the bottom of the stairs. ‘Let’s go up to our room, just in case.’

  Alisha jumped off the sofa and followed Katie upstairs. Once inside their bedroom, the girls sat opposite each other on the bed, legs crossed, leaving a space in the middle for whatever was in the envelope.

  ‘You know what this means don’t you?’ Katie said.

  ‘What?’ Alisha replied. It felt like her heart was beating inside her skull.

  ‘If Roxanne had evidence and we can work out who killed her, then this can all be over. I think we should go to the police, confess that we helped dump the body and just hope they go easy on us.’

  Alisha felt a new hope break in her chest. They could untangle themselves from this web and be free. And if they got into some trouble for helping to dispose of Rox’s body, well, it was nothing they didn’t deserve. No one had forced them to go along with the plan yesterday. Maybe there should be some comeuppance. ‘Best have a look then.’ She looked at the envelope in her hands. ‘Katie, I’m nervous.’

  Katie nodded. ‘Me too. But it’s better to know. Ignorance is never bliss.’

  ‘One of the lads might have murdered Rox.’

  ‘One of them did,’ Katie said flatly.

  Without another word, Alisha reached into the envelope and spread its contents over the blanket: a mixture of photos – some old-fashioned gloss six-by-fours and some printed on regular paper – and what looked like notes that Roxanne had scribbled. It seemed that Rox had spent her year out playing detective.

  The first photo that caught Alisha’s eye was one of Janey. Janey, happy and smiling at the ball – the night she’d died. She was posing with Roxanne, their arms around each other. It was typical of Janey to be so two-faced, Alisha thought. If memory served, Janey had spent most of the ball with her, pulling Rox to pieces.

  ‘Woah!’ Katie held a sheet up to the light for closer inspection. ‘Look at this.’ She passed it to Alisha.

  It was a grainy printed photo, like a screen grab, of two people sharing a passionate kiss. The poor quality made their heads look a little like two alien blobs colliding in space, but when Katie turned it the right way up, the faces came into focus. The paler of the two was undeniably Ryan, his hair a lot shorter than it was now, suggesting that the picture was a couple of years old, at least. The second, although twisted slightly away from the camera and making an unattractive snogging face, looked like her brother.

  Alisha’s brain rebooted and she took another look. Her eyes had obviously suffered a glitch. Why would Ryan and Greg be snogging? Had it been a dare? When had it happened? Alisha looked at Katie, who had her hand over her mouth in shock like a scandalised Victorian debutante. Katie pushed another two similar pictures in her direction. The next was clearer – a topless Ryan straddling Greg. The final one made Alisha scream.

  ‘Oh, my God! Is that my brother’s penis?’ She covered her eyes with her hand. ‘Take it away! Take it away!’

  Katie whipped the offending photo away. ‘It’s gone!’

  Alisha half-stood, half-fell off the bed and walked to the window. She needed to let in some air. Oh, yeah, she’d forgotten – there was no air. Just humidity. ‘Oh, my God,’ she said again.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘No. But,’ Alisha panted, ‘Ryan and Greg! RYAN AND GREG!’

  ‘Keep your voice down,’ Katie whispered urgently. ‘They’re just next door.’

  ‘Oh, my days!’ Alisha cried. ‘You don’t think they’re in there . . . you know?’

  Katie’s face fell. ‘No. No, surely not. Well, maybe . . .’

  ‘Katie, this is insane. I mean, did you know?’

  ‘No! Did you?’

  ‘No! Greg has always had girlfriends. Always.’

  Her friend shrugged. ‘Elton John used to be married to a woman.’

  Her twin brother was Elton John. Alisha was not ready for this. It was like she’d somehow crossed into a parallel universe or something.

  Katie examined the more graphic pictures. Alisha couldn’t bring herself to look again, but she was pretty certain they were screen-grabs from a home movie. Greg had made a sex-tape. Never again would she be the more stupid sibling.

  ‘You know what?’ Katie turned the pictures face down, for which Alisha was grateful. ‘This is what Rox had on Greg and Ryan. This was her blackmail material.’

  ‘Katie, I’m gonna need a minute to get my head round this.’ Alisha couldn’t care less if Greg was gay. Frankly, if it meant an end to the gold-digging glamour-model girlfriends, she totally supported the move. It was the fact that someone she’d shared a human body with had managed to keep something so huge so secret for so long. She’d thought she knew Greg inside out – but if he could hide that, he could hide anything.

  For the first time, Alisha truly envisaged Greg killing Roxanne. Please don’t let it be him. She tried to distract herself with the rest of the contents of the envelope, hoping there was something that might get her brother off the hook. Better Ben or Ryan than Greg. Yes, she’d always been the black sheep next to him, but if Greg was a murderer it would break her mum and dad apart – the whole world would crumble. ‘What else is there?’

  ‘Wait, that’s me!’ Katie squeaked, seizing an old photo from the pile.

  ‘Let’s see.’

  Katie held out an ancient-looking photo. It showed a cute red-haired child with a freckled button nose.

  Alisha recognised Katie’s mum propping her up next to a farm gate, feeding some horses. ‘You look well cute.’

  ‘Gosh, I must have been about two in that picture.’ Katie turned it over. There was nothing written on the back.

  Alisha didn’t get it. ‘What’s that all about?’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea.’

  ‘Where did Rox get it?’

  ‘Ditto. It is quite, quite bizarre. Why does Roxanne Dent have my baby pictures?’ Katie stroked her face in the picture. ‘It’s a bit creepy – like she was stalking us.’

  Alisha nodded. ‘Told you. We should have ditched that girl the day she arrived.’

  ‘Ditched her in the sea?’

  ‘Very funny. You know what I meant.’ Alisha returned to the ‘evidence’ and found a photo of Roxanne and Callum. After all this time, her blood still boiled. She wondered if there would come a day when that wouldn’t happen. Even Rox’s death hadn’t stopped the anger.

  ‘What’s in that one?’ Katie asked.

  ‘It’s just some random lovey-dovey picture of her and Cal. Look.’ She gave Katie the picture.

  ‘Is it from the ball? Is that what she was wearing?’

  Alisha took a fresh look. Rox was wearing her naked dress, and Callum’s bow tie hung loose around his neck. ‘Yeah. Yeah it is.’ Alisha rifled through what was left on the bed. As well as the photo of Rox and Callum, there was a similar one of the whole Longview music crowd – taken at the same time and place. They looked
like they’d all leapt into Roxanne and Callum’s shot – the group laughing, drinks in their hands.

  ‘How is this evidence?’ Katie frowned.

  Alisha studied the faces carefully. ‘It must have something to do with Janey. It’s the night she died.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Katie studied the photo again. ‘Lish, was this taken on Telscombe Cliffs?

  The quality of the picture was shocking. Thanks to her somewhat expert eye, Alisha guessed it had been taken on a camera phone and later printed. The flash made pale ghosts of the subjects and the background was pure black. But, over Callum’s left shoulder, there was a milky cloud and the suggestion of a grassy edge. Katie was right. The white shape was probably the moon on the sea. ‘Yeah, it looks like it. I wonder if they went to the cliffs after we’d been kicked out of the sports hall, to carry on drinking or whatever.’

  Suddenly, Katie gasped and peered more closely at the photo. She was always pretty pale, but what little colour she did have had drained from her face.

  ‘What is it?’ Alisha asked.

  ‘Look.’ Katie passed the group photo to her. Alisha scanned the faces. Millie and Damon were the pair jumping on Roxanne. In the background was Ferdie, and, beyond him there was someone else, almost lost in the fuzzy image. Tall, dark hair, broad shoulders, puppy-dog eyes – it wasn’t a great picture, but it was definitely Ben Murdoch.

  ‘Is that—’ Alisha began.

  ‘It’s Ben,’ Katie confirmed. ‘He was at the cliffs the night that Janey died.’

  SCENE 34 – ALISHA

  There was a horrible acidic taste in Alisha’s mouth. How stupid she’d been. How babyish. Ben can’t possibly be a killer because you LOVE him, said a high-pitched, mocking voice in her head.

  Where were you when Janey Bradshaw vanished? had been a popular question after her parents reported her missing. They’d been over that night so many times, both with the police and among themselves, and they’d all denied being anywhere near the cliffs. Except that Ben had lied.

  And Roxanne had discovered the lie. This photo was the proof. Alisha unfolded a piece of paper, covered in Roxanne’s scribbled notes in different-coloured pens. ‘She worked out where we all were when Janey fell,’ Alisha told Katie.

  Katie rubbed her face with her hands. ‘What does it say?’

  Alisha handed the paper to her. ‘Nothing new. You were at home all night, I got taken home drunk, Greg and Ryan went into Brighton to carry on partying . . . and Ben said he went home . . .’

  ‘But he didn’t. He was at Telscombe Cliffs.’ Katie stared at the photo in Alisha’s hand. ‘God, I’ve been such an idiot. I never thought that Ben . . .’ Her voice trailed off.

  Alisha studied the photo, at the same time remembering that kiss. She prayed that Katie never found out about it. ‘Hey, I never thought that Ben would do something like that, either, Katie. He’s a good guy. At least, I thought he was.’ She shook her curls.

  ‘But why, Lish? Why would he kill Janey? If he’d wanted to be with me, he could have just dumped her.’

  ‘Dumped her off a cliff?’

  ‘Touché.’

  Alisha gave her hand a squeeze. ‘All we know is that he was there, that he lied.’

  Katie threw her head back, looking to the ceiling for answers. ‘Why would he lie?’

  Alisha could think of only one reason. ‘Because he was guilty.’

  ‘OK. So why would Roxanne keep it a secret?’ Katie chewed her lip, on the very edge of tears. ‘Why didn’t she tell the police he was there?’

  A light bulb went off over Alisha’s head. ‘That shady bitch! She didn’t tell the police because she was planning to blackmail him.’ The idea made a lot of sense. ‘This was all about Ben,’ Alisha went on. ‘Don’t you get it? She knew that Greg was the richest, because of the football, but she must have worried that the photos of him and Ryan wouldn’t be enough, although, girl, they would have been, believe me,’ Alisha said without irony.

  Katie smiled grimly. She was clearly heartbroken at the prospect of her ex being a double murderer. Alisha was starting to think that she’d had a lucky escape on the beach earlier – who knew what Ben was capable of?

  ‘So,’ Alisha went on, her thoughts picking up speed and size like a cartoon snowball rolling downhill, ‘Roxanne knew it was Ben. She knew he was there the whole time. But this is the only evidence she had.’

  Katie poked at the sad pile of papers. ‘It’s hardly evidence.’

  ‘Exactly! That’s what all that bloody cabaret was at the dinner table. Rox knew her evidence was – what do they call it on TV? – circumstantial, so she talked it up. It was her best way of getting the money. She wanted to make us all think we were somehow involved, but she banked on Ben knowing he was guilty even if she couldn’t properly prove it.’

  It was a very strange feeling. Triumph on the one hand – Alisha felt pretty smug for figuring it out – but her satisfaction at having solved a puzzle was clouded by thoughts of Ben. In her story, she’d unmasked a killer. But Ben? It seemed ridiculous.

  Katie was catching up. ‘But if he killed Janey, does that mean . . .’

  ‘That he killed Roxanne?’ Alisha expelled all the air from her lungs. ‘I guess so. He needed to keep her quiet. Maybe he thought she had better proof that he pushed Janey than she actually did.’ Alisha paced over to the window and peered through the blinds. The sun was starting to set behind the villa. ‘I mean, my brother clearly has anger-management problems . . .’

  ‘No kidding.’ Katie motioned at her neck.

  ‘. . . but I don’t think he’d kill Roxanne over some boy-on-boy action.’

  Katie nodded. ‘According to Roxanne “Nancy Drew” Dent’s notes, she reckoned Greg and Ryan were “together” when Janey fell.’

  Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. ‘That would make a lot of sense,’ Alisha agreed. ‘At the time they said they’d “walked home together”. Greg’s a sneaky little git. Why didn’t he just tell the truth? Is he that scared of what people think about him?’

  She had to hand it to Rox, she’d done a pretty good job of tying up the loose ends. When Janey Bradshaw fell to her death, Alisha had been throwing up at home, Katie had been ill in bed, Ryan and Greg had been doing God-knows-what, and Ben had been at the cliffs. With Janey.

  Just hours earlier Alisha had been plotting an elaborate future with Ben Murdoch. Now he was a murderer. Even when a little dream dies, you have to mourn its passing. It left a black mark on her heart. Alisha embraced Katie; it was the best she could do to apologise for what she’d done on the beach. Ben wasn’t hers to mourn, she told herself. He was Katie’s.

  ‘What’s that for?’ Katie asked.

  ‘Because it’s over and that’s a relief. I couldn’t see a way out, you know?’

  Katie held her tight. ‘It’s not over.’

  ‘It is. When we get home we can just call the police and show them the evidence.’

  Katie let Alisha go, shaking her head. ‘No. That won’t work.’ She seemed adamant. ‘What would we do? Show them Roxanne’s woeful evidence? There’s a reason she didn’t show it to us. We’d have laughed her all the way to Portugal.’

  ‘But, still, it might be enough,’ Alisha said, clutching at really crap straws. ‘Ben will have to confess!’

  ‘No, he’ll just deny it and we’re back to square one with all of us going down for killing Rox. He could just as easily say you killed her because you hated her, or Greg because of the gay thing.’

  Alisha sighed. ‘That still hasn’t sunk in. Greg and Ryan. I mean, think of the children!’

  Katie snorted. ‘I know. If that’s not natural selection, I don’t know what is. But we need to keep focused.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘If we stay the night here, maybe we can get Ben to confess ourselves and record it.’

  Alisha rolled her eyes. ‘Well, that should be easy. What are you gonna do? Drip water on his head or prod him with a red-hot poker? I still say
we get out of here tonight and take all this stuff to the police when we get home.’

  ‘No.’ Katie looked to the ceiling like she was shuffling ideas in her head. ‘I have a better plan. We do exactly what Roxanne did.’

  ‘Act like skanky sluts?’

  ‘No. We blackmail him.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Alisha’s eyes almost fell out of her head. Katie seemed genuine, though. The colour had returned to her cheeks as if she’d tapped into an emergency reserve of ‘fight’.

  ‘Yes! We’ll tell him we found Roxanne’s evidence and that we’ve called the police. Hell, we can even call the police – that Luisa Whatever-her-name-was gave me her card. If we act like we truly know it’s him, he’ll have to say something.’

  Alisha finally found herself on the same page as her friend. ‘And I could record it on my phone!’

  ‘Precisely. Obviously we’ve been watching the same bad TV as Ryan.’

  ‘Or,’ Alisha said, ‘he could just murder us all and do a runner.’

  Katie’s face fell. She reconsidered for a moment. ‘No. No, not if he thinks there’s really solid evidence linking him to Janey.’

  Alisha nodded. ‘And what happens after he confesses?’

  ‘Hopefully the police won’t be too far away.’

  ‘I don’t know, Katie. He might lose it.’

  ‘I know. It is dangerous, but it’s the only way we can get our lives back. Don’t you see? If we pull this off, it’ll all be over and done with for good. Janey, Roxanne, this week, everything. We can tell the police he made us help him get rid of the body. It will be finished tonight.’

  Alisha didn’t want to stay in this villa with a murderer for a second longer than she had to, but she could see that Katie’s plan might just work. And she really wanted her life back. ‘When are we gonna do it?’

  Katie pursed her lips. ‘Now.’

  SCENE 35 – RYAN

  Ryan was suspended in the richest, most restful sleep he’d ever had when he was rudely awakened by Alisha’s wails reverberating through the villa. He hadn’t slept a wink last night, but he’d found a new kind of peace in Greg’s arms.