I Never Lie

by Jody Sabral

  After a few minutes, I stroll back towards the group.

  ‘He’s not picking up. No surprises there.’

  ‘Damn. We need to find out who this guy is.’ Audrey is desperate to get the story, and I don’t blame her, but the only thing I can do is stand by and see what happens, and get ready for the worst.

  Three hours later, we are still there and the police have told us fuck all. I’ve been sipping from my faithful water bottle just to get me through the morning. Surprisingly, I’m feeling much better than I did when I woke up. The media entourage is getting weary. Some have sloped off for lunch, while others stand guard. My stomach is tied in knots imagining all kinds of worst-case scenarios. I know Greg’s not guilty, but if it comes out that he is in any way connected to the case, well that’s just not worth thinking about, because it’ll link me too. Greg knew Sarah because of me. And I knew Sarah because of AA. And that part of the story will finish my career. I don’t need my competitors asking me about Greg, trying to catch me off guard, because that’s exactly what will happen if it gets out. Laura McColl will have a field day.

  After another couple of hours, DI Brook emerges from inside the station without warning, looking like he’s had a very long night. The pack of media professionals all scramble to get a good position. I’m trying to keep a low profile and remain at the back while Audrey gets upfront. Just as Brook stops on the steps, obviously preparing to say something, my phone starts buzzing. It’s a NO CALLER ID number. I walk away from the melee to take the call. It’s Greg.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I ask.

  ‘I’m not mad at you. I want you to know that.’

  ‘Okay, understood, but what’s happening?’

  ‘They’ve been tapping my phone to try and find me and well, waited until I was somewhere they knew I couldn’t run from. As if I would. But you know, I guess they wanted to be sure.’

  ‘Okay. And?’

  ‘And nothing. They’re quizzing me about my relationship with Sarah Wilcox.’

  I don’t know what to say to that. So I decide to tell him the truth for a change. Mary was right. I can’t go on like this.

  ‘Greg, I need to tell you something. I need to tell you how I met Sarah.’

  ‘I know how you two met, it was at AA.’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘What do you mean, not exactly?’

  ‘I met her on a park bench. I was messed up. You were putting so much pressure on me and I had no one to talk to, so I spoke to a stranger in the park.’

  ‘You did what?’

  ‘She used to sit in the park drinking, and I met her there. After that, she came to AA with me. I was too scared to go on my own, unable to admit my problem, so I took her with me. I needed an excuse to go and she was it. I’m not sure how mentally stable she was when we met, to be honest. I didn’t think anything more of it until I heard she was missing, and then when I met her mum there was something off about her. Like she was hiding something.’

  ‘Hiding what?’

  ‘I don’t know. A secret. Maybe about Sarah’s past. I’m so sorry, Greg. I never meant for you to get caught up in this.’

  ‘Hey, don’t worry. I’m a big boy. They’re just checking out my Spain story. They’ll have to let me go when they realise I wasn’t in the country when she was killed.’

  ‘What about the other women? Are they questioning you about them?’

  ‘Yeah, but it’s not going to go anywhere. They can’t prove anything on that score. I want to work things out with you, Alex. It’s why I came to meet Sarah. I know I did something stupid, but that’s why I came to London. It was for you.’

  Crunch time. I have to choose whether I get involved deeper or walk away. If any of this gets connected back to me, I’ll be up shit creek professionally speaking and I can’t risk that. Not even for Greg. It’s the one thing I can rely on, my work. I can’t give him the guarantee he wants, I just can’t, so I deflect because it’s easier.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’m working, trying to behave like I don’t know who the police have in custody. You’re causing quite a media storm.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Outside the station.’

  ‘Shit. Sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay, but I really have to go.’

  ‘Okay. And Alex?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I love you.’

  The words go straight for the jugular and my heart feels a jolt of electricity through it. I hang up, unable to say anything in response. I walked away from him because I couldn’t stop drinking, and here I am, still drinking. Nothing has changed. In fact, that’s not true. Everything has changed. I have an epic number of followers on Twitter. I’ve become a household name in the news business. The public trust me. And that is a success story. That’s not what an alcoholic does.

  As I get back to the group, I catch the back of DI Brook re-entering the station.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘You missed the press conference, that’s what happened.’ Audrey doesn’t look too pleased with me. There’s discontent in her eyes today. She thinks she’s doing all the work and I’m getting the glory. I’ve seen it before in producers and I’ll see it again. I feel for her, because in a way she’s right, but it’s how it works. We all have to pay our dues.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that. I had to take the call. It was a family emergency.’

  She doesn’t appear convinced, but fills me in on the presser anyway.

  ‘He didn’t say much really. Just that they had been questioning a man since last night over information they believed could prove helpful to the investigation. Same old shit as last time. I’m not sure they’re any further along in their investigation. East London doesn’t feel much safer than it did yesterday, if you ask me.’

  ‘Okay. So we do a live report? Not much to package.’

  Audrey talks to the news centre, who agree to live reports throughout the day.

  * * *

  By the time I get home, it’s gone seven o’clock. My water bottle is empty and I am physically exhausted. It’s an effort just to put one foot in front of the other. Even my breathing feels laboured. As I turn onto my street, I notice someone perched on the wall outside my flat. I initially think it’s Charlie, having lost his key again, but soon realise it’s Nigel, and he looks riled up. My nerves take another nosedive. I deliberate whether I should just turn around and leave, but it’s not going to go away, this mess, as Mary said, so I take a deep breath and walk towards him.

  56

  January 2018

  Dear Diary,

  I’ve had that dream again where I’m suffocating my mother. It was incredibly violent. She seemed so insignificant. So easy to break.

  I felt bad the last time I had that dream. But not this time.

  This time I enjoyed it.

  57

  Nigel stands as I approach. I feel his height towering above me.

  ‘Why are you not answering my messages?’

  ‘Nice to see you too. What’s up?’ I make a point of greeting him, because we are not lovers; we had a one-night stand and this kind of shit is not okay.

  ‘Why did you tell the police you were concerned about my online dating habits?’

  ‘I didn’t.’ I’m just going to outright lie, because I owe him nothing and he’s standing between me and my next vodka.

  ‘They came to my workplace yesterday afternoon and questioned me about the night we met.’

  ‘I told you they had an image of you on CCTV walking behind Alice Fessy. I didn’t have to tell you that, you know. Count yourself lucky you had a heads-up.’

  He doesn’t care about that. I guess he didn’t really believe they’d ever question him.

  ‘They also said you had expressed concerns about me being a potential serial dater. Why would you do that?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I said I’d seen you leaving the pub with another woman, who I
guessed you’d met online.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘I don’t know, last week, the night after I got back from Manchester, I guess.’

  ‘You have no right to say anything about me to the police. I could say shit about you. I’m sure other media outlets would love to know your dating habits.’

  ‘That will just make you look bitter or even defensive, so if they do think you’re a potential suspect, it might give credence to the idea. I’d watch that if I were you.’

  I’m in no mood to be nice.

  ‘I’ll scream if you don’t piss off. You shouldn’t be here. This is harassment.’

  ‘What the fuck, Alex? What planet are you on? You fucking shopped me to the police, gave them my number.’

  He’s grabbed my wrist and it hurts. Perhaps I need to tone it down, but I can’t because I’m fucked off. Really fucked off, and when my emotions get the better of me, I’m screwed.

  ‘I’m not the one who has an ex pouring drinks over me. You’ve got issues.’

  ‘That’s below the belt and you know it.’ His grip is getting tighter.

  ‘You need to take your hands off me.’

  ‘Or what? You’ll shop me to the police? You’ve already done that. If they believe it’s me, perhaps I should really give them something to think about.’

  The angle he has my wrist at has brought me to my knees, and a sharp pain is penetrating my arm.

  ‘I’m friends with the DI on the case and I’ll have no qualms about talking to him about this little visit.’

  ‘It won’t matter if you’re in no state to talk to him, will it?’

  His eyes are full of rage, and for a split second I wonder if he is capable of murder, but moments later he lets go and I collapse on the ground.

  ‘I won’t let this go if you take it further, you know,’ he hisses.

  Relief from the pain that infused my arm washes over me, and still I can’t keep my mouth shut.

  ‘Is that a threat?’

  ‘It’s a promise.’

  He turns and takes off down the street. My eyes follow him to make sure he’s gone, and just as he turns on to the main road, I spot Charlie passing him within arm’s reach, heading my way. I need to calm down. I wait for Charlie to reach me before entering the house.

  ‘Alex? You okay? You look worried about something.’

  ‘That’s because I am, Charlie. I am worried about something.’

  In the hallway, I burst into tears.

  ‘Hey, hey. Don’t cry. Why don’t you put your bag away and come upstairs for a cup of my finest brew?’

  He touches my shoulder like a concerned big brother, then unlocks his door and heads upstairs. I drop my bag inside my flat and follow him.

  There’s something reassuring about being in Charlie’s kitchen. He never judges me, but then he doesn’t know anything about my past. Maybe now is the time to tell him. The kettle rumbles to the boil and he makes the tea.

  ‘Biscuits?’

  I nod and smile, then follow him into the lounge, where we take up our positions.

  ‘What’s going on, Alex?’

  ‘The man the police took away last night. That’s Greg. My ex-fiancé.’

  ‘What? I didn’t know you were engaged.’

  ‘I was, in Manchester. In fact, that’s why I left.’

  Charlie is rolling a ciggie. ‘Want one?’

  I say nothing, but nod. He reaches out and hands me the rollie.

  ‘So why did the police take him away?’

  ‘They’ve arrested him in connection with the investigation. He knew Sarah Wilcox.’

  ‘Shit. Been there, done that.’

  ‘It’s not funny, Charlie. He’s being questioned over a murder.’

  ‘God, Alex, I know your memory is shot, but really? They pulled the same stunt with me, remember? They went through all my phone messages, my emails. It was really invasive. They even said I had a profile on COMEout, which isn’t true.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I mentioned this to you already, don’t you remember? Get your shit together, seriously. I’ve never used that app in my life, but they showed me a profile with my picture on it. It was kind of mental. That’s why they picked me up, because I had connections to all the women via that app. Not that I’d ever logged in from my phone. Fortunately I have a lawyer because of my business, and together we provided alibis for the dates of all three murders, so they had to let me go.’

  ‘Fuck, Charlie, I had no idea.’

  ‘Well you might have done if you got your head out of a bottle of vodka for a minute.’

  That cuts deep. I stub the cigarette out and prepare to leave.

  ‘Don’t fucking leave, Alex. That’s what you always do. You just run from any kind of criticism. And I’m only saying this for your own good, because I actually fucking care. You need to get sober.’

  He’s right, of course, on both fronts. That’s what I do. I run. I run from anything and everything that might make me uncomfortable, because I can’t take it. I’ve not developed the resilience. And that is because of my drinking.

  ‘I know I have a problem, all right. But I’m in control of it.’

  ‘Are you? Because your ex-fiancé is now in police custody being questioned about the murder of Sarah Wilcox, and you put him there.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Okay, I might be pushing it a bit there, but you knew her, Alex. I saw the way you reacted that day when her photo flashed up on the television. I don’t know how you knew her, but you did. I’ve known you for the best part of a year now. I know you think I’m stupid, but I can tell when you’re lying. I also know she lived around here, because I ran into her a few times at the lido. I told you that too, not that you remember.’

  I want to get up and run, but I can’t. There’s something liberating about Charlie speaking his mind like this.

  ‘How did you know her, and what does it have to do with your ex-fiancé?’

  ‘He slept with her. He put himself in police custody, not me.’ As I say it, the tears tumble down my cheeks.

  ‘Shit, Alex. I didn’t know.’

  ‘That’s just it, Charlie, you don’t know. No one knows. Only Greg knows how much pain I’m in. I lost my baby and I don’t think I’ll ever have the chance to have another one. That’s why I moved to London, to get away from the pain, but look at me now. The past has caught up with me and I just want it to stop.’

  I’m practically sobbing now. My head is about to explode. Charlie knows I’m deeply disturbed, because I’ve never lost my composure this badly in his company before.

  ‘I’m a friend, Alex. You can trust me with anything.’

  His eyes are kind and I know he means well, but I’m having a really hard time with this.

  ‘Do you have anything stronger than tea?’

  Charlie returns from the kitchen with a bottle of tequila and joins me in having a shot.

  ‘Greg met Sarah after I left Manchester. She muscled her way into his life. That’s all I know. He says he came to London to see her so that he could find me, because she’d told him she knew where I was. That’s all I know. I didn’t really know her. She was just someone I met briefly in Manchester while out for a walk one day.’

  I can’t tell him about the blackouts. I can’t tell anyone about those, because that would be admitting to the extent of my problem out loud, and I don’t have that kind of problem. I can control my drinking. I’ll get dry in a couple of days. I just need one day to start my detox. A day off from everything.

  ‘Shit, Alex. This doesn’t sound good. Do you think he killed her? Maybe they had a fight or something and it got out of hand. Maybe Sarah’s death isn’t linked to the other three. The police are saying that the others were strangled but she wasn’t, right?’

  This time, I do stand up and prepare to leave.

  ‘Greg’s not a killer. He’s not. He’s a good man. I’m the mess in all of this.’

  ‘Hey, calm down. I’m
just playing devil’s advocate.’

  ‘Well, don’t.’

  With that, I’m striding across the room towards the door. I can hear him shouting after me as I head downstairs, but I don’t look back. There’s only one place I’m going, and that’s my kitchen, where I know there’s a bottle waiting for me. That’s my only real friend.

  58

  January 2018

  Dear Diary,

  I got Alex’s email address and wrote to her again. I figured she probably doesn’t check her messages on Twitter, because if she did, she would have definitely got back to me. I told her about rehab and explained that I have been sober now for going on four months. That I don’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t come along that day and sat on my park bench. I told her that she saved me. That she has had a profound impact on my life and I will be forever grateful.

  59

  I wake up to the sound of my phone ringing. It’s Anne Marie, Maggie Horrocks’ flatmate. I pick up. She tells me she’s found something that might be of interest. We agree to meet in a café on Broadway Market within the hour. It’s around ten o’clock in the morning and nothing has shifted on the story. The police still have a man in custody. That’s all the channels are reporting. I suppose at some point I am going to have to talk to DI Brook, just to find out what the hell is going on. When they picked Charlie up, they released him pretty quickly, so I wonder what the hold-up is with Greg. Then I remember what Charlie said about it, that Sarah’s death isn’t linked to the others and perhaps Greg just lost it and killed her by accident. I don’t want to even imagine that scenario could be true, so I busy myself getting dressed and heading out to meet Anne Marie.

  She’s already there when I arrive. And when I sit down, she hands me a small grey leather-bound notebook.

  ‘It was Maggie’s. I found it when I was packing up. The police must have missed it when they searched the flat. It has her online dating info in it.’ She reaches across and points to a pocket on the inside of the back cover. ‘I wouldn’t usually do this, but I want the bastard caught, and the police are useless.’ She nods at a newspaper being read by the woman at the next table. The headline reads: KILLER STILL FREE. ‘I believe you have a genuine interest in finding out who killed these women.’