He gives the tiniest shake of the head.
‘Was it so bad, wanting to see you?’
‘It wasn’t me you wanted to see, was it? It was Edie.’
He looks up to the sky. There’s nothing left to say. He looks back down and we stand staring at each other, saying nothing until Cassie opens the door.
‘Is everything alright?’ She looks at both of us. It’s very obvious everything is not alright. ‘You should come inside, Tess, you’re being missed.’
I don’t look at Max as I move away.
Dad told me I could be in danger. If someone had a reason to hurt Edie, they knew her, which meant they also knew me.
‘What do you think the killer would do if he knows you’re after him?’
Do I need to be scared of Max?
Chapter 36
Edie: February 1998
‘Most people know the Soft Cell version, not the Gloria Jones original. I managed to find this on a market for fifty pence. The stallholder had no idea what he’d got.’
Uncle Ray’s diamond patterned steps fell into easy time with the music. The heavy bassline kicked in. Edie barely danced, just shifting lightly from one foot to the other. Recently, she’d become aware how her body moved differently and that her shape had changed from just a few months ago. She felt self-conscious of her dancing, even in front of Uncle Ray. Especially in front of Uncle Ray, if she thought about it.
He stopped mid flow.
‘What’s up, Edie, you don’t feel like dancing today?’
Edie shook her head and turned away from him slightly.
‘You look just like Gina from this angle,’ he said and stepped closer.
The door banged behind him. Auntie Becca came in. Uncle Ray took a step back.
‘I was just saying how Edie looks like Gina,’ Uncle Ray said.
‘It’s only the height,’ Auntie Becca said. ‘You’re more like Vince in the face.’
‘Yes, you’re right,’ Uncle Ray said. ‘She’s more like Vince. It’s just when she turned her head like that.’
No one spoke for a moment. Edie looked at Uncle Ray and Auntie Becca. Their expressions were unreadable.
Edie hated people talking about Mum. She tried to squeeze down on those memories to make them disappear. Sometimes she recalled birthdays and Christmases, when Mum must have been there, but the presents were wrapped by Auntie Becca, the turkey brought in by Dad. Mum was missing.
‘So, did you make the CD?’ Edie asked.
‘Sure, it’s here,’ Uncle Ray said and reached for the sideboard. ‘I’ve made some notes.’
‘Thanks,’ Edie said.
She would copy them later into her own handwriting.
‘Is that for a boy, Edie?’ Auntie Becca asked.
‘No, a friend at school.’
‘So you’re not courting?’
‘I’m not what?’
‘You’re not seeing anyone, a boy?’
‘No,’ Edie said.
The idea seemed ridiculous, though lots of girls her age did have boyfriends.
‘There must be someone,’ Uncle Ray said. ‘A pretty girl like you. You must have admirers.’
‘There’s this one lad,’ Edie said.
‘Yes?’ Uncle Ray said.
‘Oh, it’s nothing. I met him at Aveline’s party. He’s at the boys’ school. He just follows me around.’
‘What do you mean, follows you around? He’s not bothering you, is he?’
‘No, nothing like that, he’s harmless.’
‘Because if he is, I’ll have a word. I know Vince…’ he paused. ‘Vince and I would talk to him.’
‘Really, Uncle Ray, he’s harmless. He’s shorter than me; he just turns up wherever I am. He never says anything or does anything. I’ve told him to get lost, so he keeps his distance. I feel sorry for him.’
Uncle Ray laughed.
‘Never feel sorry for boys, Edie, we rarely deserve it,’ he said and winked at Auntie Becca.
‘That’s true enough,’ Auntie Becca said. ‘I’ll drop you home if you like, Edie. I’m going over that way.’
‘Thanks, Auntie Becca. And thanks for the CD, Uncle Ray.’
‘Anytime,’ he said.
Edie thought back to when she’d seen him with Valentina in the park. She’d never asked him about it. After Mum was killed, everything else seemed unimportant. Now, she wondered if he was still seeing Valentina. She was old enough to realise her fatness hadn’t been due to eating her own cakes.
As they left, the strains of ‘Tainted Love’ faded and the record player reset itself.
*
‘Where’ve you been?’
Tess was coming out of her room as Edie came up the stairs. Where’ve you been? Where are you going? Tess never stopped.
‘Were you with Michaela?’
‘No.’
‘Where then?’
‘At Uncle Ray’s,’ Edie said.
‘You didn’t ask me.’
‘I only went to pick up a CD.’
‘For her?’
‘Who?’
‘Michaela.’
‘What if it is?’
‘You do everything with her now. You said it was just that once. Now it’s all the time. She’s so fake. I don’t know how you can’t see it,’ Tess said.
‘You say that about everyone at school.’
‘They are.’
‘If you tried to make friends—’
‘I don’t want to. They’re so stupid. All they talk about is boys and rubbish bands.’
‘Michaela doesn’t,’ Edie said.
Not exactly true. She spent a lot of time talking about Bob, whose band was probably worse than the ones Tess was thinking about. According to Michaela, Bob’s band was amazing and about to get signed by a big London label. From the tape Edie had heard, she doubted this; though it would explain why Michaela liked him when he didn’t seem her type.
She’d met Michaela’s parents at her enormous house out near Bromsgrove and was pretty sure they’d agree. But Michaela liked the music Edie gave her and Uncle Ray was always pleased to burn a new CD and make notes on the artists. This was the basis of their friendship. No one else understood why Michaela liked a girl from the year below, but she was too popular for anyone to question it. Anyone except Tess.
‘She’s so up herself,’ Tess said. ‘And she’s just using you so she can look like she knows about music. She thinks she’s cool but she probably listens to the Spice Girls when no one’s about.’
The same thought had crossed Edie’s mind.
‘Don’t talk rubbish, Tess.’
‘And you’re the same. That stuff she gave you on her CD was crap. You only say you like it cos she does.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘You never mentioned any of her stuff to Uncle Ray.’
Actually, Edie had mentioned it to him. He had laughed and said it was for losers who couldn’t dance.
‘I’m allowed friends, Tess. Why has it just got to be the two of us all the time? You didn’t mind Raquel.’
‘She was different.’
‘What do you want, Tess? Go back to hanging around garages and traipsing up the high street for something exciting to do. Don’t you want to go out, have some fun, meet boys?’
‘I’ve tried. It’s boring. They’re boring. Why do you pretend? You don’t like those girls any more than I do. And the Joseph Amberley boys are all idiots.’
‘There are other boys.’
She thought of Michaela’s boyfriend, Bob. After every night out with him, and a few ones in, Edie and the other girls would huddle around Michaela as she told them of the previous evening’s exploits.
The only person waiting for Edie was that stupid boy from the party. Sometimes he’d wave to her or cross the road as if to come and chat, and she’d go back into the school to avoid him. She’d started leaving by the hole in the back hedge to swerve him altogether. This stopped her from seeing Bob coming to pick up Michaela.
It came as a shock that it bothered her so much.
Once, after a couple of bottles of Smirnoff Ice, she’d allowed herself to be groped by one of the boys from Bridges, who wore too much Lynx and was covered in acne. It had been a one-off. In general, she had no time for boys and held in slight contempt the girls who put on make-up after school and hung around the Joseph Amberley boys from opposite.
But Bob wasn’t like those boys. He had a car and a job. He smoked cigarettes that weren’t stolen and played the guitar. She didn’t understand why she felt the need to see him. She didn’t like him. He was a bit of a show-off and his band was unlistenable. It had been kind of him to stop those lads teasing her in the café, but it was to show them who was boss rather than a compliment to her. It rankled that her fears about Bob telling Michaela were groundless. He wouldn’t recognise her. However much he occupied her thoughts, she was of no importance to him.
‘I’m not interested in boys. I’d rather watch TV,’ Tess said.
‘Well do it on your own. I can’t be bothered arguing. Just don’t keep asking where I’m going and why I don’t take you with me.’
Edie pushed past Tess and went to her room.
It had been much simpler before. Edie hadn’t realised they fitted in, until they didn’t. There had been no need to be grateful for friends at St Luke’s Primary, no need to pretend about anything. She could always be herself with Raquel. She’d promised to go back and see her but never had. A little guilt tinged her memory of the fun they’d had together over the years. It was odd Tess never mentioned her.
Had Tess been as jealous of Raquel as she was of Edie’s new friends at Joseph Amberley, and Edie just hadn’t noticed? She put her Discman on its highest volume, but today it wasn’t loud enough to shut everything out. Her old life, Raquel, her mum, she missed them all.
Chapter 37
Tess: July 2018
The morning after the funeral I come downstairs to find Dad’s slept in the armchair again, cigarette burnt down to the filter, dead between his fingers. I tiptoe in, slide the butt from his hand and decide to leave the TV on.
My head’s aching and I’m feeling a little overheated. I wonder if I’m coming down with a virus. I don’t suppose the wine and vodka helped. I go to the kitchen, knock back two Nurofen and bring a cup of tea into the lounge. I check in on Facebook. Laura Andrews has been blocked from the JAGuars’ group and on Twitter, people have moved on from #EdiePiper.
The doorbell rings. Dad stirs but doesn’t wake. I get up, shutting the lounge door softly, and pad down the hall.
‘Can we come in?’ DI Vilas asks.
DS Patterson is with him.
‘Dad’s asleep,’ I say. ‘I don’t want to disturb him.’
‘You said you wanted to speak to us.’
I narrow my eyes. I have a vague memory of slurring words into a phone at two in the morning. When Vilas said to call him anytime if anything new occurred to me, I’m sure he didn’t mean any time. After the wine I moved onto vodka. I can’t even remember what I said to him. I pull the door open and lead them to the dining room. It’s the best-maintained room in the house, owing to the fact we have always eaten on our laps or in the kitchen. The room faces the front, so I tilt the venetian blinds to let light in but shield us from view. The ticking of the carriage clock on the dresser echoes round against the near empty walls.
Vilas looks mystified at my choice of room. I cut short his chance to question it by sitting down. He hesitates then follows, as does Patterson.
‘It must have been a difficult day for you yesterday,’ Vilas says, his head cocked to one side. ‘Though sometimes the funeral can bring closure.’
The mild thrum across my forehead is strengthening. I press my eyes shut for a moment.
‘I’m glad that part’s over,’ I say.
‘Quite a turnout considering the time that’s passed.’
I didn’t see Vilas there. He must have been watching from a distance. My head hurts and I’m angry that he’s effectively been spying on us, and at the idea that placing Edie’s bones in the earth will somehow bring us comfort, as if she were an elderly aunt who’d died after a long illness.
Vilas clears his throat.
‘I picked up your voicemail this morning,’ he says. ‘I couldn’t make all of it out.’ From the corner of my eye I catch Patterson trying to suppress a grin. ‘But I understand you have something to tell us about Max Arnold.’
Max, of course, I told him about Max. And now it comes to it, it feels like disloyalty. Max has been good to me, helped me through some bad times, and now I’m denouncing him to the police.
‘It might be nothing,’ I say.
‘We’ve scant information as it is, if you can tell us anything about Mr Arnold, that’s of use to the case, you’re actually legally bound to do so.’
I should never have called him whilst drunk and I can’t back out of it now, so I recount what Raquel told me, that Max was obsessed with Edie. That he followed her, spied on her, made her anxious.
‘And she confirmed what I said about a boy following Edie home. I mean, he denies it, but he would, wouldn’t he?’
Vilas nods.
‘And you never had any idea about any of this?’
‘How could I?’
‘I did suggest to you before… but that’s irrelevant now,’ he says. ‘Has Max ever been violent towards you?’
I nearly laugh. Max moans and sulks, occasionally shouts, but he’s never physically aggressive.
‘No.’
‘Towards anyone else, you’ve never seen him lash out?’
‘No.’
Vilas leans forwards.
‘Do you believe him capable of harming Edie?’
‘No.’ The word comes easily. ‘But I think he’s not telling the whole truth. I don’t know why.’
‘The thing is, Edie was found thirty miles away from where we know she was attacked. Looking back at the original case notes, I can see he was exceptionally small for his age. It seems unlikely he could move a body thirty miles.’
‘Unless he had help,’ Patterson says.
‘Max lived with his father at the time. His mother had left the family home, is that correct?’ Vilas asks.
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘And he’s close to his father?’
‘Not really.’
‘Hmm. I’ll make more enquiries. But Max doesn’t fit the description of the boy Edie was seen arguing with. Our witness was adamant the young man wore jeans and a white T-shirt. Max was a Joseph Amberley boy, wasn’t he? And he’d still have been in his school uniform at that time of the afternoon.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘He wouldn’t. His dad pulled him out of school after the Mr Kent thing, the teacher his mum ran off with. I don’t think he started his new school until the next term.’
‘So he wasn’t in uniform?’ Vilas stops, narrows his eyes and looks at Patterson. ‘But he still doesn’t fit our description.’
‘It was twenty years ago,’ Patterson says. ‘And travelling at speed in a car, the light, the angle, all that could affect what our witness saw.’
Vilas nods.
‘Look, Tess, thanks for getting in touch. We’ll follow up on this and probably need to speak to this Raquel. I don’t know why she wasn’t questioned before,’ Vilas says.
‘No one knew they were still in touch,’ I say.
‘Really?’ he says.
‘I told you before, Edie liked keeping secrets.’
‘I see. Well, we’ll find out what she’s got to say. And obviously be speaking to Mr Arnold again. You’re staying here, with your father, for the foreseeable?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. I would advise you not to return to the flat you share with Mr Arnold at present.’
I’ve betrayed Max. They’ll go back and grill him, bring up all that stuff about Mr Kent, which he hates talking about more than anything. And he’ll know it’s me who’s told the police, after all Max has done for me and when
I know he would never hurt Edie. If he hadn’t lied, I wouldn’t have had to do it. But then why did he lie? Ever since Raquel told me, I’ve been telling myself it’s because he’s embarrassed, shy. But how many reasons are there to lie about the disappearance of a girl you know, a girl you follow? The slow, endless drips of suspicion are eroding my certainty.
*
In the lounge, Dad is awake and on his first cigarette of the day.
‘Who was that I heard leave?’ he asks.
‘The police, they had a few more questions.’
‘More questions but no more answers,’ Dad says.
I try to ask one more time about Max.
‘They asked about a boy who used to follow Edie around. He came to the house here once, do you remember?’
‘No, Tess, I’ve told you before, you’re misremembering.’
‘But Raquel said Edie told her.’
‘I don’t know then, but there was no boy,’ he says. ‘Is that what the police were asking about? They could have come to me.’
‘You were asleep.’
I can’t tell him that his surviving daughter has been shacked up with the main suspect for nearly the last decade.
I leave Dad to his cigarette and go upstairs, when my phone beeps. It’s a text from Mr Vickers:
I’ve just learnt about this dreadful business with your sister and I’ve decided that, if you still want to talk to me, I’m ready to answer your questions. You know my number.
I can’t quite believe it. Even Mr Vickers can’t ignore the glamour and intrigue associated with the death of a young girl.
Vilas focusing on Max reminds me of my childhood game of detectives and I know that fixing your mind on one outcome blinds you to other possibilities. I think back to that time, plodding around the estate in my disguise, notebook in hand. It’s ironic my investigations led me right back to that first one, ‘The Case of the Missing Cakemaker’, and Mr Vickers.
Chapter 38
Edie: February 1998
It was the kind of street and the type of people Edie was wary of. Strange to think she’d once lived here on the Limewoods Estate and been one of them. It wasn’t as she’d recalled. Even the layout seemed to have shifted. She wouldn’t have known Raquel’s house, if the pottery lion wasn’t still sat on their doorstep.
Someone You Know Page 19