My Best Friend's Murder

by Polly Phillips

  ‘Among other things. Now, are you going to let us in or what?’

  ‘Us?’ Squinting past Rob, I realize there’s someone wearing a black Canada Goose parka and a beanie standing behind him. Is this Rob’s girlfriend? He never introduces me to who he’s dating. My eyelids are pasted together with sleep dust but there’s something about her mass of curls that looks familiar. Suddenly, I’m very aware that I’m wearing a pair of Ed’s boxer shorts and a t-shirt that came free with a magazine.

  ‘Bec, I’d like to introduce you to Sydney Scott.’

  Oh God. There’s an A-list celebrity standing on my doorstep and I’m almost certain I didn’t brush my teeth before I went to bed.

  ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ Her American accent is softer than it is on-screen and her voice sounds like honey. Her hand, when she holds it out, is soft and her nails are perfectly manicured. I shake it, then, as subtly as I can, slide my hand up to my mouth to check my breath. Rob catches me.

  ‘Yup, you smell as bad as your dog,’ he tells me cheerfully. ‘Go and have a hot shower and I’ll make you a smoothie. You need to get some fluids into you before you run this race.’

  Ugh. With everything that happened, I’d almost forgotten about the 10K.

  ‘Haven’t we missed it?’ I check my watch hopefully.

  ‘You wish. It doesn’t start till eleven – plenty of time to get you race ready.’

  ‘I don’t know if it’s such a good idea.’ All I want to do is crawl back under the covers.

  ‘You’re not wriggling out of it.’ Rob ushers me down the hall. ‘I left Soho Farmhouse at the crack of dawn for this. Now go and shower.’

  I take my phone into the bathroom and check it while I peel off the clothes I slept in. It doesn’t look as if I called anyone else last night. I imagine disturbing Ed at his mum’s, trying to drunkenly tell him Izzy had accused him of sleeping with his friend’s wife. At least I only called Rob. It could have been a lot worse. The hot water makes me feel human again. I turn my thoughts to the fact that Sydney Scott is currently standing in my kitchen. My best friend seems to hate me and my brother is dating an Oscar-winner. The world is going mad. I pull on an old pair of leggings and a sports bra and throw one of Ed’s t-shirts over the top.

  ‘So do you want me to tell you how to thrash Izzy at this race, or what?’ Rob’s leaning against the kitchen doorframe, smirking.

  ‘What did I say last night?’ I groan just as Sydney asks: ‘Who is Izzy?’

  I look at her properly for the first time. She’s draped her parka and beanie over the back of one of my wonky chairs. Now I can see her clearly, she’s just as gorgeous as she is on-screen. All jutting cheekbones and pouty lips. Even in a loose black t-shirt and jogging bottoms her waist is the size of my inner thigh and she’s got the sort of glow you can’t get out of a bottle. She’s the kind of girl that Izzy would hate. But the way she bends to crouch on the floor and pet Missy makes me warm to her.

  ‘Who is Izzy?’ I echo. ‘Good question.’

  ‘Don’t get all metaphorical, Becster.’ Rob hands me a glass of something green that smells like vomit. I cover my mouth with my hand.

  ‘Stop being such a baby. Drink it. Izzy is Bec’s best friend slash worst enemy. They’ve been friends since they were about twelve and it’s taken Bec this long to work out Izzy spends half their friendship being a total cow to her.’

  ‘Eleven.’ I stare at the glass. Is that grass floating around the top? ‘We met on the first day of senior school.’ I think of my short hair scraped into a stubby ponytail held by a million hairgrips; the way the pleated skirt dwarfed me. How nervous I was. Until Izzy, hair loose and halfway down her back, skirt already two inches above the knee, crossed the hall and smiled. From then on we were inseparable. How different my life might have been if she’d smiled at someone else.

  ‘So she’s a frenemy.’ Sydney gives Missy a final stroke and stands up. ‘Drink it. It doesn’t taste as bad as it looks and it really will make you feel better.’

  ‘We’re going through a bad patch at the moment.’ I take a small sip of the shake. She’s right. It’s not as bad as I thought.

  ‘Can you call two decades of emotional abuse a bad patch?’

  ‘Rob!’ Sometimes I wonder if Izzy did something worse than just dump Rob. Of course, now’s not the time to ask.

  ‘Look, I’m not getting involved. But I think not inviting you to Tilly’s party is pretty low. She knows you’re devoted to that kid. And it’s not the first time she’s done this sort of thing.’

  ‘Can we change the subject?’ I focus on the drink. ‘I’m not up to dissecting my friendship with Izzy on an empty stomach.’

  ‘Whatever. Just remember you don’t owe her anything just because she hung around after Mum died.’

  I look away. We never talk about that time. How the other kids at school treated us as though the death of a parent was contagious. Izzy was the only one who didn’t melt away. Until you’ve lost a parent, you can’t imagine how every tiny facet of your life changes at the same time as remaining painfully the same. How intensely that hurts. Even now, I’ve blocked the whole period out because it hurts to remember. I thought Rob had done the same.

  ‘She was a good friend,’ is all I can manage.

  ‘Maybe. But what about when—’

  ‘I said I didn’t want to talk about it,’ I snap.

  ‘Why don’t we talk about this interview you and I are going to do together instead?’ Sydney interrupts smoothly.

  ‘Oh my god, are you sure?’ The offer displaces all other thoughts. My first full interview for the magazine (getting quotes from a Coronation Street star making a fitness video hardly counts) and it’s with an Oscar-winner. I can’t believe it. My hands are itching to text Jules but I suspect it would be a bit uncool to get my phone out right now.

  Sydney nods. ‘This one showed me some of your stuff. You may not have done a lot of interviews but what you write is good. I’d love to have you talk with me.’

  ‘This is amazing.’ I want to jump up and high-five someone. But acting like a crazed fangirl might make Sydney change her mind. I settle for noting the affectionate use of ‘this one’ and messaging Jules later.

  ‘It was a hard sell with my press team. They think your demographic is a little older than where they wanted to pitch the movie but I talked them round. Tash, my head of press, will give you a call next week. Here, take my cell. If you key your number in, I can pass it on.’

  ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’ I can’t believe Sydney Scott’s mobile phone is sitting in my palm. It feels heavier than normal. It’s probably made of gold or something. I flip it over. The screensaver is a close-up of my brother’s face. Surreal.

  ‘Don’t be silly, anything for Robbie,’ Sydney is saying. ‘And I get something out of it too. Now, can I use your bathroom?’

  ‘It’s the first door at the top of the stairs.’ I can’t believe Sydney Scott is going to use my bathroom. Of course we still haven’t redecorated. I turn to Rob as soon as I hear the bathroom door squeak.

  ‘Robbie?’ I raise my eyebrows. ‘My god, you guys are dating. Tell me everything.’

  He blushes. I’ve never seen him blush before. ‘I don’t want to put a label on it, but we’re seeing how it goes.’

  I look at him objectively. I’ve always known he was good-looking from the fact he went out with Izzy and how giggly my friends used to get around him. And of course he’s been stacked since he started personal training. But Sydney Scott?

  ‘You know you can’t tell anyone, right? Not even Izzy…’

  Reality comes crashing back in.

  ‘I doubt she’d even take the call.’

  The aprons on the back of the kitchen door rustle as Sydney comes back in. It’s not clear how much she’s heard but she gives me a sympathetic look.

  ‘You know I had a relationship a bit like the one you’re describing when I was in college,’ she says. ‘Dionne was my roommate. We pl
edged the same sorority, took the same classes, had the same friends. But in our second year, I got into theatre. We were still close but she started organizing things and purposely not inviting me. I didn’t think anything of it. I’d gotten cast in this big production and I was busy. Then this rumour went across campus that I was only doing so great because I was sleeping with the theatre director.’ She stares into the distance. I watch her, transfixed. ‘I never in a million years would have thought it came from her until some guy we both knew told me what she’d been saying. I wish I’d been brave enough to confront her but I wasn’t as confident back then. I cut her out instead.’ She smiles sadly. ‘You harden up pretty quickly in this business. The show went well and I ended up getting an agent and not going back the next semester. But the whole experience taught me that sometimes the people around you have an agenda.’

  ‘That’s awful.’

  Sydney half-smiles. ‘It’s more common than you’d think. Especially in Hollywood. Dionne tried to contact me before my first Academy Awards ceremony. She’d ended up getting kicked out of college and couldn’t seem to hold down a job or pay her rent. I guess karma can be a bitch. Anyway, forget it. I have. But I’m thinking maybe your friend’s jealous of you.’

  ‘Izzy, jealous of me?’ I laugh. ‘Fat chance. She’s got everything.’

  ‘You’d be surprised.’

  ‘She’s going to be jealous today when you go flying past her on the final stretch.’ Rob claps his hands. ‘Speaking of which, we’d better go. I want to get you warmed up before the start.’

  ‘You know I’m not going to beat her, don’t you?’

  ‘You will if you believe in yourself the way she does.’

  I grab Missy’s lead and say nothing. Maybe now is finally the time I start backing myself instead of Izzy. I’ve waited long enough.

  Thirteen

  10.45 a.m.

  Given that it’s Boxing Day, I didn’t expect a big turn-out. But apparently lots of people think this kind of self-flagellation passes for festive fun. Clapham Common is heaving. The race start is marked out with red and white balloons and banners and there must be over a hundred people milling around it. Rob has to go around the block twice to get a parking space. Missy’s circling the boot like she’s testing the perimeter by the time he finds somewhere. As he pulls in, I notice Sydney shift in her seat.

  ‘You can switch your beanie for my cap if you’re worried about being recognised?’ Rob reaches around the back of his seat and pulls out a baseball cap with a faded Nike logo on the front. Sydney shakes her head.

  ‘Would you guys mind if I passed? That crowd looks pretty big.’

  ‘You sure you’ll be okay in the car?’ Rob looks concerned.

  ‘I’ll be fine.’ Sydney gives a small smile. ‘As long as you guys don’t mind me missing the big moment.’

  We shake our heads.

  ‘I might see if I can grab coffee,’ Sydney muses. ‘Do you know anywhere local that’ll have soy?’

  ‘There’s a place on the corner by Izzy’s called Grind,’ I volunteer. Then I realize Sydney won’t have a clue where that is. I need to stop using her as a benchmark for everything. ‘About halfway down the hill towards the junction. I’m pretty sure it has all that stuff. I don’t know how busy it’ll be though.’

  ‘It sounds perfect.’ She pulls her beanie down lower. ‘I’m wearing my civvies so I should be okay as long as I keep moving. Perhaps I can take Missy with me?’

  ‘That would be great,’ I say. ‘She’s not brilliant with crowds either.’

  ‘Sounds like a deal.’ Sydney scratches the top of Missy’s head. ‘We’ll keep each other company.’

  ‘I don’t mind staying,’ I say half-seriously.

  ‘Bec, you’re doing this. You might even enjoy it.’ Rob hands me a water bottle and jumps out of the car. ‘Now, come on.’

  ‘Let me check my phone.’ I scroll through my messages to see if there’s anything from Izzy. For all I know she might not even be coming. I don’t know how I’d feel about that. Much as I don’t want to admit it, I do want to beat her. Maybe that would even the score and we could go back to normal. But there’s nothing except for a good-luck message from Ed. I shoot him a quick response and put my phone back in my bag.

  ‘Stop dawdling.’ Rob holds the car door open and stands there until I get out.

  ‘You go, girl. You’ve got this.’ Sydney smiles at me and reaches forward to squeeze Rob’s hand. ‘See you later, babe.’

  ‘Babe?’ I tease him as we walk off.

  ‘Shut up,’ Rob says. But I can see him grinning to himself.

  I feel myself start to tense as we get closer. Every flash of blonde makes me flinch. But none of them are Izzy. Rob leads me over to a table where two ruddy-faced women in their mid-forties are handing out race numbers. As I point to my name on their list, my eyes scan it for Izzy’s. I notice she hasn’t been checked off yet. Maybe she’s not coming and I can go home and curl up in bed with a hot chocolate and a bacon butty instead. I remind myself that I’m not running this race for Izzy, even though part of me knows I am. I’m pinning my race number to my t-shirt when Rob shouts, ‘Rich, mate, over here’, and I stab myself with a safety pin.

  He points through the crowd and I see them. Izzy’s wearing a pair of running shorts that barely cover her backside and her hair’s pulled back in tight plaits. She looks like a Nordic Lara Croft. Catching sight of us, she stops to do her laces.

  ‘You not running after all, mate?’ Rob gestures at Rich’s jeans and Barbour jacket as he and Tilly come up. Tilly looks cute as a button with huge pink earmuffs and her hair pulled back like Izzy’s – the perfect fashion accessory.

  ‘Nah. My running days are long gone. And we’ve got to cheer on Mummy and Auntie Bec. Show them your sign, Tills.’

  Tilly holds up a ragged piece of paper with ‘Go mummee go’ daubed on it in multi-coloured letters. She flips it round. ‘Yay Auntee Bec’ is written on the other side.

  ‘Sorry, mate, wasn’t enough room for you on the sign.’ Rich punches Rob on the arm and he laughs.

  ‘What an amazing sign.’ I bend down to give Tilly a hug. ‘I love the colours.’

  ‘They’re teaching them to spell phonetically these days.’ Izzy comes up behind me. I hold my breath, not sure how she’s going to receive me. ‘Nice to see you, Bec. Did you get home okay yesterday?’

  She sounds like she’s talking to a stranger.

  ‘I did. Thanks again.’ Part of me wants to lean forward and hug her, brush all the ill-feeling aside. But this time I can’t.

  ‘I’m just going to check the start.’ Rob looks at his watch. ‘I’ll be back in two secs.’

  Izzy waits until he’s gone. ‘Heard from Ed today?’

  And this is why.

  ‘A quick voicenote,’ I say defensively. ‘He’s still in bed, sleeping off the Christmas excess. I don’t blame him. I’ll chat to him later.’

  ‘As long as it’s his own bed, eh?’ Izzy laughs. Rich doesn’t join in. My desire to beat her crystallizes.

  ‘What?’ She widens her eyes. ‘I was only joking.’

  ‘It was a bit harsh,’ Rich says.

  ‘Sorry.’ Izzy throws the apology out without looking at me. She could be apologizing to Rich for all I know. ‘Another sleepless night at the Waverlys’. I guess I have a tendency to be snippy without my eight hours.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’ I pretend it doesn’t matter. ‘I think we’re about to start in a minute. That guy with the megaphone is getting up on the podium.’

  ‘Come on, Tills, let’s go get a good spot,’ Rich says. ‘Good luck, guys. And, Iz, take it easy, especially if you get tired.’

  ‘Over here, Bec,’ Rob calls. ‘I’ve found us a space.’

  Izzy follows me as I work through the crowd to where Rob’s standing a couple of rows back from the start line. He moves to the left to let me in and Izzy elbows her way into the space next to me.

  ‘Remember what
I told you.’ Rob presses a handful of Jelly Babies into my hand and I shove them into the pocket of my running jacket.

  ‘Talking tactics, are you?’ Izzy leans in. ‘It’s only a fun run.’

  But I notice her jaw is set as she bends down to touch her toes.

  ‘I’m afraid we’re going to be another few minutes while we sort out the timing chips,’ the organizer calls out on the megaphone. ‘I’m sorry for the delay.’

  A groan goes up around us.

  ‘What a faff.’ Izzy starts jiggling on her feet. ‘Especially in this weather. It’s colder than New York here, you know. I spoke to Mum and Dad last night and they said it’s mild there.’

  ‘How are they?’ I try to sound interested while keeping my eye on the man with the megaphone. I want to make a good start.

  ‘Mum’s fine, loving the shopping, but Dad sounded stressed. Mum’s got him on this diet to lower his cholesterol so he can’t eat any of the things he wants and I think he’s been working the whole holiday.’

  ‘Well he’ll have good news coming his way shortly, won’t he?’ Rob nudges me as he hooks one foot behind the other and stretches. I do a double take. I thought we weren’t supposed to be talking about Sydney Scott.

  ‘What’s this?’ Izzy whips her head around like a Velociraptor.

  ‘His ace reporter standing right here happens to have secured a world-class, exclusive interview with Sydney Scott.’ Rob nudges me again.

  ‘The actress?’ Izzy frowns. ‘Didn’t she get an Oscar last year?’

  ‘And the year before,’ Rob adds.

  ‘How did you pull that off?’

  ‘She had a film she was promoting.’ I flick my eyes towards Rob. I’m not sure how much I should be saying. ‘It sort of fell into place.’

  ‘Well that’s wonderful.’ I can see the corners of Izzy’s mouth jerking but she can’t quite make herself smile.

  ‘Clear to start in two minutes,’ the man with the megaphone cuts in. I can hear the relief in his voice. ‘Last chance to warm up – or duck out.’

  There’s a ripple of laughter across the crowd. Now Izzy’s face is creased with concern.