She Did It: You think you know her - think again.

by Mel Sherratt

  Her eyes filled with tears at the thought of Natalie and the children. Those poor boys were so young to lose their father. What a waste of life, to trip and hit your head.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Esther sat in her flat as she waited for the night to draw in. It was imperative that she left soon, before the police put two and two together. She stared straight ahead, thinking of everything that had happened, how much trouble she was in and how much she faced to lose if she was found out.

  Everything was out of sync now. Jack dying was never part of her plan and that, plus the recent trouble with Danny and her looming eviction … well, she must have been more out of control than she’d realised after bingeing on the amphetamines.

  She’d thought she was okay without her meds too, letting her tablets lapse. Maybe it would be better to get another dose before she left London. She’d ring the doctor’s surgery first thing on Monday morning. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to keep her wits about her.

  Jack’s face was engrained into her memory and every time she closed her eyes, the image of him would appear. His face looking at her, with dead eyes and a blank expression. She knew it would fade in time. It had done before, but it was horrible when it was so real.

  At half past ten, she left the flat and turned on to Earl’s Court Road. Dressed in dark clothing, she wore a baseball cap, even though her hair was tucked inside her black wig. There were cameras everywhere on the streets. It was hard to get away with anything these days. So instead she had to think savvy, try and mislead the police.

  Twenty minutes later, she passed the end of Jack’s street. It all seemed quiet. Esther took this to be a good sign. If the police had suspected foul play, surely they would be investigating around the area more? Still, she hurried past.

  Jack’s house was close to the children’s play area. There were a few people about on the street, but it wasn’t extremely busy. No one would be taking any notice of her.

  When she approached the gates, they were locked. She’d anticipated this so she shimmied up and over them, jumping down on the other side with a thud. She looked around her, hoping the bang of her feet hadn’t brought her to anyone’s attention. But there was nothing.

  There was a streetlight in front but, other than that, into the park it darkened. She stared into the shadows before beginning to run. Eerie shapes crept up on her. She ran until she came to the bush she’d been to earlier.

  She stopped, scanning around to make sure that she hadn’t missed anyone who might see her. When she was positive she was alone, she dropped to her knees.

  She reached under the hedge until her hand found the black plastic bag that she had placed there earlier, before she’d rang Tamara. Her fingers clasped around it and she pulled it out. Inside she’d wrapped the marble paperweight in the tea towels that she had used to wipe Jack’s blood from the tiles.

  Looking around again, she pushed the bag inside her hoodie and zipped it up. She jogged back to the fence and was away out on the street in no time. Now all she needed to do was get rid of it further afield. She wasn’t about to take it home with incriminating evidence inside it. If the police found that, they might search her flat more thoroughly and she couldn’t let them do that until she had left. Finding the amphetamines would be the least of her worries. They would find Danny’s body too.

  On the walk back, she kept her head down, afraid that she was going to feel a hand on her collar, or a police car would pull up to the kerb at high speed and she would be arrested. She couldn’t use her Oyster card, even if the journey had been longer. She knew if the police checked it, they could have seen where she had been. She didn’t want to leave any trace of anything.

  As she’d been walking earlier, she’d noticed a house being renovated along one of the side streets. Outside it on the road was a huge yellow skip. Even though by now it was completely dark, again she made sure no one was around, and then pushed the bag inside, hiding it underneath a pile of broken plasterboards and a load of black, rubbish bags.

  Assured it was well hidden, she rushed away. It could be found, if anyone went through the skip, but she had to take that chance.

  Esther sighed with relief when she was back in the safety of her flat. How she hated that awful place, but tonight she was extremely glad of it. Exhausted, she climbed into bed. She reached for the bag of white powder that was on the bedside table, licked the tip of her finger, coated it with the substance and rubbed it around the inside of her gums.

  It was all she could do not to get out a razor and start self-harming. The pressure to do it had intensified. The only other way she could blot out everything would be to drink herself into oblivion.

  But despite wanting to drink, Esther had to stay sober. She needed to be prepared in case the police found out everything too soon.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Sunday, 16 July

  After a restless sleep, Esther had dozed throughout the day, and woken with a start. She sat up in bed, pyjamas sticking to her, drenched in sweat. Her eyes were watery too. For a moment, she wondered what had made her wake. The recurring nightmare she had whenever she was stressed returning vividly, perhaps?

  But then when she recalled the events of the day before, she realised she was in a living hell. She located her phone and checked online to see what was being said about Jack.

  They had named him that morning on the local radio news bulletin. There was no mention of suspicious circumstances but they were continuing to look into the cause of his death so not everything had been ruled out.

  She assumed they meant routine things. Maybe they would believe her and Tamara. Perhaps the evidence wouldn’t point to anything more than a fall.

  She logged on to Facebook, to the Dulston Publishing page, where Oscar had left a post in tribute and a photo of them all with Jack in the middle. She could see herself on there, standing next to Tamara. Both of them were smiling. Would anyone guess that her profile was false? It was one of the reasons she never used social media too liberally. Everyone could look into your business.

  Jack had a personal page, with the privacy set as public. There was a message on there from Natalie, with a photo of the two of them and their boys.

  Messages of condolence were pouring in now. Esther had known Jack was popular but not how much. She could see people typing as news filtered through. Message after message to say how sorry they were, how shocked, how they would miss him, and what a waste of life. She almost snorted – what did they know about anything? They didn’t know hurt like she did.

  All of a sudden, Esther thought of her parents. She missed her mum as much as she missed her dad, but she’d left because she didn’t want to be an embarrassment to anyone. As much as it pained her not to see her, not to go back and visit, it was the best thing for both of them.

  She could still remember the night she had left home. She’d been seventeen, and, after another huge row with her mum, she didn’t want to stay there any longer.

  People knew too much; she couldn’t move on from what had happened because everyone kept reminding her. A glance from a woman in the supermarket, the shake of a head from another when she was in the doctor’s surgery, a glare from a man while she waited for the bus. It was as if she had liar stamped on her forehead.

  But it was the argument with her mum that had been the final straw. She had seen the hatred, the disgust in her eyes at what had happened. Even if she believed her, she didn’t like what her daughter had turned into since. She didn’t like the late nights, the drinking, the crowd she was mixing with now.

  Esther had been late in that night too, and her mum had waited up for her. She’d cried because she wanted her daughter to be safe, to look after herself. Esther could remember screaming at her, right up close. She’d stormed off to bed seconds later but in the morning, before her mum was up, she had packed a holdall full of clothes and left.

  Esther closed the lid of her laptop, almost throwing it at the wall. If she hadn’t been so stup
id, getting high as well as drunk and then losing her temper, she wouldn’t be in this predicament now. Why had she lashed out at Jack so quickly? But she knew the answer to that. Because it wasn’t the first time she had lost her temper and gone too far.

  She thought back to the worst time of her life. Three years ago, she was sofa surfing, still trying to find her place in society, still failing miserably.

  Danny Bristol was someone who didn’t like to be crossed but he was no good for her. He had supplied her with the drugs, made her dependent and then forced her to work for him, earn the money back he said she owed. It had been humiliating when she thought about it now, but at the time, she wanted her next fix and would have done anything to get it.

  One night, he’d beaten her after she refused to go out to work for him. He was supposed to be her boyfriend, but he turned into her pimp. At the time, she’d thought about getting away, but equally knew that she could never escape his clutches. Danny was an evil bastard. He wouldn’t think twice about wasting her if she ever lost her usefulness.

  She’d gone out to a club, hoping to dip a few pockets, but instead she’d been chatted up at the bar. His name was Mitchell Farrier and he was a banker in the city. One drink had led to several and she’d found herself attracted enough to go back to his apartment with him. When they’d started to get frisky, she’d been up for it. But he’d gone too far, she’d felt pressured and hit out …

  Going to prison had been a wake-up call, but it had been a harsh lesson to learn. It was inside that Esther had become set on retribution. Having time on her own meant she could plan revenge on the men who had let her down.

  And as soon as she had been released, she’d been on to it. Going back to Shoreditch had been the first thing she’d done. Moving to London had been the second.

  However, killing Jack Maitland had not been in her plan and it had screwed everything up royally.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Tamara had spent the morning with her parents at their home. It was strange but Jack’s death had her wanting to see them, as if to reiterate that they were still alive. Grief was a funny thing. Even her mother stopped with the put-me-down comments for a change. They had been as shocked as she was about him dying.

  Tamara tried Esther’s phone three times before it was answered. After a few monosyllabic answers to her questions, she assumed that Esther must have been crying and didn’t want her to know.

  ‘Shall I come and see you?’ she asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I could do with some company, to be honest.’ She took a different tack. ‘I still can’t believe what’s happened.’

  There was no reply. After a few more questions, Tamara had no choice but to finish the call. Tapping the phone on her chin for a moment, she wondered if she should go and visit. Esther had had a terrible shock and although she seemed as if she wanted to be alone, maybe she could do something to help.

  Then again, would she have been grateful if anyone had comforted her during her breakdown? She wasn’t sure. But she had grown very fond of Esther over the past few months. Maybe she needed a friend, a shoulder to cry on.

  Finally, she located Esther’s address from her files. If Esther wouldn’t talk to her, she would go to see her instead.

  In Trevorbir Road, Tamara squeezed her car into a space. She walked along the pavement and stopped outside a house. Glancing at the piece of paper in her hand, she took the five steps to the black door of a four-storey townhouse, several doorbells in a row to her right.

  She pressed number one. There was no answer, so she pressed again. She was about to try one of the other bells to see if anyone could help her, when a voice came out of the tinny speaker.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Esther, it’s me, Tamara.’

  ‘I don’t want to see anyone.’

  Tamara could hear the raw emotion in her voice. She knew she was struggling to accept that Jack was dead. It must be so much worse for her.

  ‘Let me in,’ she said. ‘I need to speak to you. I need to see you’re okay.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  She heard another sob. ‘Esther, please. I’m not leaving until I see you.’

  The entry system buzzed and the door opened, allowing her access to the building. Inside a small hallway, the door to number one was ajar. Even so, she knocked gently before entering.

  ‘Esther?’ She stepped into a narrow, dimly lit vestibule.

  ‘In here.’

  Esther was lying down on the sofa, covered in a duvet. There was an empty vodka bottle on the table next to a tall glass, and it was obvious from the smell in the room alone that she had been drinking heavily.

  The curtains were drawn so Tamara moved to the window and opened them, letting in light.

  ‘Don’t do that!’

  As Esther shielded her eyes, Tamara ignored her protests and glanced around the room again, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the smell. She hadn’t expected her to be in such a poor establishment. It seemed to be so dated and cramped.

  ‘Have you been like this since we left the police station?’ she asked after deciding to stand up rather than sit down.

  Esther nodded.

  ‘Why didn’t you answer my earlier calls? I would have come to see you sooner.’

  ‘I didn’t want to intrude.’

  ‘You don’t intrude! Esther, you’re my friend.’

  ‘I’m not a good friend. You’ll find that out soon.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Tamara sighed. From the few words Esther had slurred, she could see she was still drunk.

  ‘Did you get any sleep last night?’

  ‘I can’t remember.’

  ‘I’ll make some coffee. You’re going to have yours black.’

  She went into the tiny kitchen at the back of the flat. The small table was crammed with cups, plates, and lager cans. She wondered if these had accumulated since yesterday or if this was the way Esther lived. It was quite shocking to think it might be the latter.

  Unable to find any milk in the fridge, she located a clean mug and instant coffee, shuddering at the thought, and flicked on the kettle. She wouldn’t have one herself.

  Once the drink was made, Tamara took it in and handed it to Esther. She moved aside a pile of clothes from the armchair before sitting down.

  ‘I won’t ask how you’ve been,’ she said, smiling kindly. ‘But you know I am always here for you to talk to.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk.’

  ‘Okay. I still can’t believe he’s dead though.’

  Tamara saw Esther stiffen.

  ‘I’ve had an email from Oscar. There’s going to be a get-together tomorrow, a memorial, at half past eleven. I thought we could go together.’

  ‘I’m not going.’

  Tamara shrugged. ‘It’s entirely up to you but I think you should. You might regret it later, when things are different.’

  Esther didn’t speak, just looked ahead. Silence fell on the room again and Tamara realised she had done the wrong thing by coming around. She’d thought Esther might need some help getting to grips with things, perhaps blaming herself, but she was non-compliant. She felt as if she had intruded on her grief, rather than helped her to come to terms with it.

  She stood up. ‘I’m going to go, but I’m on the end of my phone at any time if you need me. Okay?’

  Esther nodded.

  Tamara left her to it. But the more she thought about things as they ran around in her head that evening, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that something wasn’t adding up. Esther had been grief stricken, of course, but her eyes had been glazed over too. It seemed much more than the drink she had taken.

  She supposed it was none of her business how she got through this but she wondered why she was drinking so heavily. Was it only to block everything out? If she thought back to how Esther’s behaviour had changed over the past month, had she been taking something then too? And if so, was it because she had s
tarted the affair with Jack and was unable to cope with sharing him? It seemed weird but something had changed.

  She wasn’t sure she trusted Esther. She wasn’t sure she was telling the truth.

  And she had just lied for her.

  Had she put her foot in it? Had she given her an alibi for something more serious? Had Jack fallen? She shuddered as an image of Esther pushing him down the stairs came to her.

  No, Esther couldn’t be responsible for Jack’s death – could she?

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  I tried to scream but a hand covered my mouth. My eyes showed fear, my face wet with tears as his other hand found the front of my jacket.

  ‘No. Stop!’

  He then pushed it up inside my jumper, squeezing roughly first one breast and then the other.

  ‘Like that, do you?’ he sneered. ‘Do you like it rough?’

  I shook my head. I couldn’t move with the weight of him. He had me pinned down.

  His hand moved lower, between my legs. I tried to push it away but he slapped me.

  ‘Stay still, will you!’

  ‘No!’ My voice came out barely more than a whisper but I kept fighting. He slapped me again, wrenching my neck to one side.

  When he pulled at the waistband of my jodhpurs, part of me wanted to scream again, but I didn’t dare. He was too strong for me. I didn’t know what to do.

  His breath smelled of cigars, his lips all over mine, sloppy. I moved my head away and he grabbed my chin.

  ‘Don’t want to kiss you anyway, you little whore.’

  Tears poured down my face. I knew what he was about to do was going to hurt. He didn’t care about anything but himself.

  ‘No, stop!’ I pleaded. But he continued.

  And then I saw someone.

  Esther woke up, the bottle of whiskey she’d been working her way through almost slipping from her hands. She’d started on the heavier stuff once Tamara had left. She wanted to blot out what had happened for a while longer.