Except for Daniel.
‘Have you known all along?’ I ask him, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.
He nods slowly.
‘Why did you send the letters?’
‘I didn’t send them …’
‘But then, who?’ My head is pounding and I close my eyes, feeling disorientated. Can this all really be happening? I grab at my hair, pulling it hard from the roots.
I’m backed into a corner. There is nothing I can do. When I open my eyes Daniel is by my side, guiding my hand from my hair. ‘Sophie came to you, didn’t she, Frankie?’ he asks gently. ‘On that last night. She was upset so she left the club but you followed her, didn’t you? And she told you what your father did to her, that she was pregnant. You accused her of lying, of having an affair with your dad. Why did you kill her, Frankie? To stop her from telling anyone?’
How can he know this, Soph?
The wind whistles around us. You’re standing in front of me but you’re not speaking, you’re just staring at me with disgust. With hatred.
‘Frankie!’ Daniel’s voice is insistent, urgent. He grabs hold of my upper arms and spins me around so that I’m facing him. There is desperation in his eyes. ‘Please. If you feel anything for me at all put me out of my misery. We have evidence, we know it was you. But I want to hear it from your lips, Franks. I want to hear why you did it. Why you wanted to kill your best friend.’
I sob and sag against him. It’s almost a relief to be able to tell someone. ‘I’m sorry, Daniel. I never wanted to hurt you, but she took everything from me. She took Leon and then she took my dad. My dad. He loved me the best. My mum never gave a shit, I only ever had him. But even he preferred her to me in the end. Why did she have to take him, Dan?’
I feel him stiffen against me. ‘Frankie. She didn’t take him. He raped her.’
‘She told me everything,’ I cry. ‘About the kiss in the bedroom, about how she’d led him on. She fancied him and she wanted him.’
‘He raped her,’ Daniel says again through gritted teeth. ‘He terrorised her and stalked her and raped her. And he would have carried on doing it. When she was gone he did it to those other girls instead. He’s a monster.’
‘But he’s my dad,’ I wail. I didn’t want to believe you at the time, Soph. You told me everything and I couldn’t face the truth. When my dad was arrested six months ago it made me realise that you hadn’t been lying, had you? My dad raped you. I’m so sorry for not believing you …
‘And what about me,’ says Daniel, his voice sad. ‘I loved you. Wasn’t I enough?’
‘You didn’t love me. You just fancied me …’
‘No!’ he shouts over the wind. ‘I loved you. I loved the fact that you were funny, bright, independent, always up for a laugh. I loved that you had a vulnerable side to you too. I just didn’t realise how insecure you really were.’
What a fool I’ve been.
You come towards me, your face pinched with anger. ‘That’s not all, is it? What about Jason?’
‘Jason?’
‘You wanted him too, didn’t you? But you couldn’t have him. So you pushed him into the sea.’
I forgot I’d told you all about that on the night you died.
‘You said Jason was an accident, Franks,’ Daniel urges. ‘You said Sophie pushed him by mistake. During an argument. But that’s not true, is it?’
‘How do you know all this?’ I cry.
‘I want to hear you say it, Frankie. The police are on their way. They know everything – but I want to hear it from you.’ His eyes are pleading.
‘It was an accident,’ I shout over the wind. ‘Sophie had passed out. I tried it on with him, he turned me down. We argued. I didn’t mean to push him. We were drunk. He lost his balance and fell …’
‘Just like with Sophie?’
‘It was an accident,’ I repeat, breaking down. ‘I was just a kid, Daniel … I didn’t mean to hurt him.’ It’s true, Soph. I know you always wondered what really took place that night. You were so wasted you didn’t really know what had happened. I was angry he had turned me down, I didn’t know he was gay. But I didn’t mean to kill him. I watched him splash about in the water. I could have saved him but I chose not to. Then I shook you awake and told you he’d fallen in.
I turn to Daniel. ‘Were you just pretending, this whole time? To get me to confess? I thought you had feelings for me.’
He looks shamefaced. ‘Because of our history I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. I know that accidents can happen. I hoped you’d explain yourself. Show remorse. I wanted you to confess.’
‘Why?’ I laugh bitterly. ‘When you already know so much.’
His voice catches. ‘Because I wanted to understand why you would do such a thing. Or are you just like your father?’
I stare at him in shock. Is that what he thinks? That I’m just like my dad? That night in The Basement, when I heard you being sick in the toilets, I knew you weren’t drunk. Your pallor, your nausea. It didn’t take a genius to work it out. You were pregnant. But before I could confront you about it you’d run off, out of the club. On the pier you broke down and told me everything, about the kiss, the stalking, the rape. Of course I didn’t want to believe you, this was my father, the man I idolised, loved more than anyone in the world.
In the distance I think I hear the faint sound of a police siren.
Evidence. They have evidence of your death. I think of your Gazelle Adidas trainer that was left behind on the pier. I knew I should have chucked that in the sea after you, but I’d left it there. I never touched it though. I was careful about that. I knew about DNA, you see, even then.
‘If you have evidence,’ I say to Daniel, ‘why would you want me to confess? Because I never will. Not to the authorities. I can’t go to prison. I just can’t …’
You step forward, looking smug. You flash your teeth at me. They are small and pointed. Not like yours at all. ‘You already have,’ you say and you reach into the deep pocket of your coat and retrieve a tape recorder. ‘It’s a Dictaphone. Everything you said is on this tape.’
‘Mia …’ Daniel’s tone is a warning.
Mia? I stare at you. But it’s not you, is it? Of course it’s not. How could it ever have been? What was I thinking?
Those eyes, those teeth. That voice. It’s not you.
‘Who are you?’ I snarl.
‘My name’s Mia,’ she says. She has an Irish accent.
‘Daniel’s girlfriend?’ I frown. But she’s so young. Too young.
She shakes her head and laughs, her next words lost in the wind. The sky rumbles. Hard, angry rain bursts from the clouds. How dare she laugh at me, this young woman. How dare she stand here and throw accusations at me, turn Daniel against me. We could have been happy together but she’s come along and fucked it all up.
Fury swells and builds, threatening to push itself out of my chest. I want to hurt her. I want to wipe that smug smile off her face. It’s my turn to reach into my pocket. I pull out the broken piece of stiletto, faintly aware of Daniel’s cries of horror, as though he’s worked out what I’m about to do before it even crossed my mind.
‘Mia, watch out!’ There is fear in his voice. And love. Jealousy spurs me on and I charge towards her, sensing Daniel’s presence behind me. I want her to cease to exist. The feeling is all-consuming, powerful. I want to wipe her out.
She darts past me, into Daniel’s arms, and because of my uneven heels I stumble, falling to my knees with a thud. What was I thinking? I don’t want to hurt her and I didn’t mean to kill you. You have to believe me, Soph. I loved you. I’m sorry …
The creak of wood is barely discernible over the wind and rain. It takes a couple of seconds for the rotten planks to give way beneath me. I hear the wail of police sirens getting nearer. I don’t try and save myself.
The last thing I see is their shocked, pale faces before I crash through the floor and into the angry, grey sea below.
40
Tuesday, 9 September 1997
I ‘died’ on Saturday night.
It all began with a huge bust-up with Leon. I couldn’t take lying to him any longer so I finished it. I’ll always be haunted by his face, the crumple of his chin as he tried not to cry.
Frankie raced into the toilets after me and demanded to know what was going on. I locked myself in the cubicle and threw up. I couldn’t face her or Leon, so when she went to get me some water I fled from The Basement as fast as I could, not stopping until I reached the entrance to the old pier, and then only because my side hurt with a stitch.
I leaned against the lamppost trying to catch my breath. I was trembling all over. A blister on my heel throbbed so much that I had to remove my trainer. I shoved it in the pocket of my tracksuit top and hobbled onto the pier.
‘Sophie?’
Relief flooded through me when I saw Frankie standing behind me and not Alistair. It could so easily have been him. It made me realise how stupid I’d been to leave the club, how I’d put myself in danger.
‘What are you doing here?’
I didn’t want to talk to her. How could I even begin to find the words to explain all that’s happened?
‘Why are you going home? It’s only eleven thirty. It’s a Saturday night, for goodness’ sake! We never leave the club this early.’ She sounded out of breath. She must have had to sprint to catch up with me. I noticed she was wearing her long black platform boots, not easy to run in. They were the same boots she was wearing the night we met up again, when the summer had stretched out in front of us full of possibility. How had it all gone so horribly wrong?
My face was wet with tears. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you? I heard you throwing up in the ladies’ loos. Something’s going on, Soph, and I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong. I saw you having a huge bust-up with Leon. What happened? Did you tell him about the baby?’ She walked towards me. ‘Sophie!’ She pulled my arm so that I was facing her. ‘Are you listening to me?’
‘Of course I didn’t tell him about the baby!’ I cried. ‘What’s one more lie? Anyway, why do you care?’
She frowned, hurt flashing in her eyes. ‘Because I’m your best friend. We tell each other everything. But you never told me this. Why couldn’t you tell me you were pregnant?’
‘Because …’ Tears were coming thick and fast now. I could hardly breathe, they were threatening to choke me. I took a deep breath. I had to tell her the truth. ‘Because I thought it might be Alistair’s. But it can’t be. I know that now.’
Her expression darkened. ‘Alistair’s? What are you talking about?’
‘Your dad!’ I cried. ‘Who do you think I’m talking about?’
Her voice was low, dangerous, as she said, ‘You were fucking my dad?’
I stared at her, shock drying my tears. ‘I wasn’t “fucking” your dad. He raped me!’
All the colour drained from her face and I felt terrible. She staggered backwards as though I’d hit her. ‘How could you? How could you lie like that? You’re having an affair with my dad and now you’re lying about it. You’re such a little slut, Sophie Collier. You’ve taken Leon and now you’ve taken him.’
‘Alistair raped me, Frankie. We didn’t have sex. He forced himself on me, he –’
‘Shut up!’ She didn’t shout but her voice was cold and there was a hardness to her that I’d never seen before. ‘I don’t want to hear your lies.’ She stared at me, her eyes wild, just like her father’s, her mouth downturned and trembling.
‘Frankie … please.’ A sob escaped my lips. I hated doing this to her. ‘I wouldn’t lie about something like this …’
She closed her eyes as though inwardly meditating, and started pulling at her hair. I watched her in alarm, wondering what she was going to do next, how she was going to react. Then she opened her eyes and walked towards me. ‘This pier,’ she said, coming closer to me, ‘it’s surely cursed, don’t you think? Jason died here …’
I frowned. ‘What’s Jason got to do with this?’
‘Oh, Sophie. You really are rather stupid, aren’t you? And you like to think you’re so intelligent. While you were passed out I shoved him into the sea. He was so off his face he didn’t stand a chance. We’d had an argument, he turned me down. Nobody turns me down.’
‘You killed Jason?’ It was as though the breath had been knocked out of me. I remember passing out and Frankie shaking me awake, tears running down her face, telling me there had been an accident and Jason had fallen in. Never did I once suspect that she’d pushed him.
She started pacing, clearly agitated, as though trying to work out what to do. She was shaking her head, still pulling at her hair and talking quickly. ‘I shouldn’t have told you that … I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just angry, what you said about my dad … and I didn’t mean to kill Jason. It was a knee-jerk reaction. He turned me down, I was angry. We rowed and I pushed him. It was an accident …’
‘Oh, Frankie!’ I cried.
She wiped her tears with her sleeve. ‘Why do you have to ruin everything?’ she wailed. ‘I loved Jason. I loved Leon. I loved my dad and you’ve taken them all!’
I stared at her, stunned. ‘Is that really what you think?’
‘Why you?’ she sobbed. ‘What’s so special about you? What about me? Why does nobody love me?’
It made me realise, for all her beauty and show of confidence, how insecure she was. She looked so vulnerable, so lost. Part of me wanted to tell her to stop being so immature, but the other part of me wanted to hug her. I rushed towards her and she stopped pacing.
‘Jason didn’t love me. Not in that way. He was gay. And Leon … I never knew how you felt about Leon.’
Her face was pinched, mascara smudged around her eyes. We’d had fights but nothing quite like this. ‘I didn’t want to tell you,’ she said. ‘I do have some pride.’
‘And Alistair … Frankie, you have to understand, he’s become a stalker. He won’t leave me alone …’ And then I told her everything: the kiss in the bedroom, how he followed me, harassed me and then raped me in his car. I was so relieved that I was finally getting it off my chest that I didn’t stop to think how I was affecting her. After I finished she looked like I’d physically punched her.
‘My dad would never do those things,’ she cried. ‘Why are you lying?’
‘I’m not lying. I’d never lie about something like this. You know I wouldn’t. I’m sorry, Frankie.’ I went towards her but she pushed me away so that I stumbled backwards.
‘You’re a filthy liar,’ she yelled. ‘Get away from me, Sophie. I hate you! I hate you!’
‘Frankie, please listen …’
But she was in a state, rage on her face, tears spilling down her cheeks, refusing to listen. She shoved me again, harder this time, and then I noticed that she had her fingers closed around something; it could have been a rock, a stone, a piece of wood, I couldn’t tell because, before I knew what was happening, she’d brought it down on my head, throwing me off balance so that I went toppling backwards, crashing through the barrier and into the sea.
As I fell I felt my trainer slip from the pocket of my top and fall with a thud onto the wooden planks of the pier.
I don’t know what saved me. It could have been pure luck that when Frankie hit me it didn’t knock me out, that the current that night wasn’t too strong, that I managed to cling onto one of the metal legs of the pier. Or maybe it was Frankie’s arrogance. She’d done it once, with Jason, so she thought it would be just as easy to dispose of me. But I wasn’t drunk like Jason had been and I was a strong swimmer, so I hid silently behind one of the metal legs and watched as Frankie first checked the sea below, then paced up and down as if unsure what to do next. I was tempted to swim towards her, to tell her I was OK, but then she turned and ran. And suddenly I knew. She wasn’t running for help. She was going to leave me here to drown, just like she did
with Jason. How could I have got someone so wrong? I thought we were best friends, she had been like a sister to me.
From my position behind the leg of the pier I watched her rush back along the promenade towards The Basement as though nothing had happened, metaphorically wiping her hands. A job well done. I knew she’d slip back into the club and pretend she’d been there all along. What a good little actress she turned out to be.
Had the plan already begun to form in my mind? I’m not sure. But what cemented it for me was Daniel. As I swam back to the shore and clambered over the rocks, the water weighing my clothes down and making every step difficult, I saw Daniel walking home, a lone figure in black. He just happened, thank goodness, to look to his left and notice me, wet and bedraggled, picking my way over the rocks, the sharp edges cutting into my shoeless foot. He thought I’d fallen in and came rushing over, and I remember thinking, I wish I had drowned, then Alistair wouldn’t be able to bother me any more.
I was shivering and crying, the sorry story spilling out of me as Daniel led me to the cove so that we were out of sight. He wanted to kill Alistair when I told him what he’d done. He stared at me open-mouthed when he learned that Frankie had pushed me, and that she’d done it before with Jason. He kept repeating over and over again how shocked he was that Frankie would do such a thing. He tried to persuade me to go to the police right there and then, but I was scared. It would only ever be her word against mine.
‘You have to report Alistair. He raped you, for fuck’s sake, Sophie! And Frankie hit you and left you for dead …’ He looked grey with shock. ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’
‘They might never believe me,’ I cried. ‘And Frankie and Alistair will stick up for each other. Their word against mine.’
I was shaking so much I was worried I was going into shock. ‘Here,’ he said, shrugging off his coat and draping it around my shoulders. ‘Put this on. Don’t worry … We’ll figure this out. I just wish you’d told me before.’
‘What would you have been able to do?’ I wailed. ‘There was no way out, Dan. I felt like I was going mad.’
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