The sun shone on the table as we ate our breakfast even though it was still the cold middle of winter. The window faces south, north, east or west, I can’t remember which, but it means it can be the sunniest room ever at the right time. The light picked out individual crumbs and a smear of butter until they looked like a painting I had seen on the wall in a gallery. If only we could stay like this, I thought. Just the four of us eating breakfast together in bright light.
Grace went over to the window several times whilst we were eating. She stood to the side so that she couldn’t be seen, and peered out through the net curtains. Daphne watched her whenever she could, and I could hardly blame her. Grace is one of the most lovely women I’ve ever seen, and strong with it. She’s like a person you would want with you on a desert island, I thought, and at that moment I could almost believe that the four of us were on the island, and that the bread had been toasted over a fire of sticks.
‘I’m just checking,’ Grace said, ‘to be on the safe side.’
I’ve got to admit I wasn’t sure that was necessary. In fact I was on the verge of asking her if she really needed to do that, point out that she was frightening Nina. I’m glad I didn’t, because exactly when I was thinking of saying it there was a snap of the letterbox. Pizza flyers, I thought, or an offer to value my house in case I wanted to sell, but when I went to the door it was neither of those things. It was a small sheet of paper, folded in half. When I opened it, there was a picture of Nina’s face staring out at me. An older-looking Nina, much older, as if it was a message from a future time when she would have her hair up and wear lots of make-up.
Have you seen this girl? Missing since 25 February. Please call this number with any information. If you see her tell her we love her and we can’t wait to see her back again.
There was a phone number underneath. I stood and looked at it.
‘Meg,’ Grace called from the kitchen, ‘is it OK if I put some coffee on? Would you like some?’
‘Thanks,’ I said and I stuffed the flyer into the pocket of my skirt. There was no point worrying Nina about it. I had to find a time to discuss it with the other two, see what we should do.
I didn’t get a chance until after the coffee, when Nina went off to have a shower.
‘Spill,’ said Grace. ‘What happened?’
I hadn’t thought I had let it show at all, but she is perceptive, that Grace, she doesn’t miss a thing. I got the flyer out and smoothed it so that they could see.
‘Shit,’ Grace said. ‘You didn’t think of telling me straight away so that I could look out of the window?’
I hadn’t thought, of course, I never do. That’s your trouble, Henry used to say, tapping my head with his knuckles until it really hurt. You’ve got a brain in there somewhere, I suppose, because you certainly know how to eat and spend money, but you choose not to use it when it suits you.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
I was going to say more but Daphne jumped in.
‘Come on, Grace,’ she said, ‘what was Meg supposed to do? Make a huge song and dance in front of Nina? I’d have done the same as her, kept it until we were on our own and we could focus on it.’
‘OK, point taken, sorry, Meg,’ Grace said.
I was astonished. Just like that, sorry, Meg? I wondered for a moment whether that was how most people carried on and for a mad moment I missed Henry intensely. I wanted to tell him that not everyone carries an argument on to the bitter end. I wanted him to listen to me.
‘So what we need to know is,’ Daphne said, ‘whether every house has had a flyer like that or whether it’s specific, targeted at us because someone knows something.’
‘Meg,’ Grace said, ‘could you maybe find out from your neighbours?’
I could feel my face going hot. ‘I expect they’re at work,’ I said.
It was the first thing I could think of.
‘What, all of them?’ Grace said. ‘It doesn’t matter which one you ask, any will do. They’ve either done everyone or no one.’
‘OK,’ I said, ‘OK, give me a moment.’
I stood there trying to work out what to do. I couldn’t possibly admit to them that I didn’t know any neighbours, that after almost fifty years in the same house I was not even on ‘hello, good morning’ terms with a single one. I knew that wasn’t how other people lived. I had always known, but Henry had been so very furious if I ever spoke to any of them that it had become second nature for me to ignore everybody. I’m sorry, I used to say to them in my head as I walked past, I’m sorry but it’s easier this way.
‘An accident of geography does not a friendship make, Meg,’ Henry used to say.
Daphne came to my rescue again.
‘Not everyone is as outgoing as you, Grace,’ she said. ‘Not everyone knows all their neighbours.’
‘Sorry,’ Grace said, and the two of them smiled at each other in a way that made me feel a bit lonely.
‘I’ll go,’ Daphne said. ‘I’ll knock and ask a question. I’ll say I’ve just moved in up the road, and I’ll get the conversation round to it. We really do need to know.’
She wasn’t gone long. What would it be like, I thought, to be able to act so decisively? Daphne didn’t even seem all that confident, but when it mattered, she could obviously pull it out of the bag. I imagined all the things that would become easy, all the obstacles that would suddenly clear, if I could make myself act like that.
‘Young woman at twenty-two,’ she said when she came back. ‘Really nice, said she’s got a flyer too.’
‘OK,’ said Grace, ‘that gives us some breathing space.’
‘What do you mean, breathing space?’ Nina said.
None of us had realised that she was there, she had come down the stairs so quietly. We looked at each other, us three oldies, and I knew instantly what they were thinking and that we were all in agreement. It’s not fair not to tell her, we decided.
Daphne held the flyer out to Nina. Nina opened it out and read it. It was horrible to watch the colour drain from her face.
‘I’ll have to go,’ she said, ‘I can’t put you lot in danger. And there’s my friend. I don’t know how she is.’
She started to fuss with her hair but I think it was only to stop herself from crying. Grace took hold of her hand, really gently, pulled it away from her head and held it.
‘It’s OK,’ Grace said. ‘We’re not going to give up now, just because of a stupid flyer. Are we, ladies?’
Daphne and I shook our heads.
‘But you’re going to be brave and help us, tell us what’s going on, what the hold is he’s got over you, that kind of thing. So that we can help you in the best way. And your friend. So that we don’t make things worse.’
I nodded along until I must have looked like a mad woman but I couldn’t think what else to do. And there was the other thing too, the damned violin. It was in my ears screeching like a fox in the throes of sex. Anyone who has heard that would agree with me that it’s the worst sound, and if they haven’t heard it, they’re lucky. It’s a terrible noise and so was the damned violin. And the snoring. It was almost as bad as the night Henry passed. I didn’t want to do anything dramatic, honestly I didn’t, but I couldn’t help sort of sinking into a chair and holding my head. The noise was so intense and I think I was groaning. This is about Nina, not you, you stupid old fool, I was thinking but it didn’t make it any better. It’s not always about you, Henry used to say and usually it was a very unfair thing to say but today he would have been right. It was that damn violin. It wouldn’t let up.
Daphne knelt down by the chair.
‘Can someone get a wet cloth?’ she said.
It felt marvellous when she held the cloth against my head.
‘I think you might be having a panic attack,’ Daphne said.
I could hear the sound of the other two agreeing but I managed to hold my hand up, and wave it a little to show them that I was fine. It couldn’t possibly be a panic attack and as s
oon as the violin was quiet for a moment I explained it to them.
‘My mother,’ I said, ‘she used to play the violin in the Underground shelters in the war. To entertain the people down there. They were there for whole nights, quite often, and it was too crowded to sleep.’
‘You don’t have to talk if you’re feeling rubbish,’ Nina said.
It was sweet of her but for the first time ever I really wanted to explain.
‘This one night, she was in Balham station,’ I said. ‘There were a few of them, someone had a trombone and another person had an accordion and they got everyone singing along. I suppose it stopped people from thinking about where they were. What was going on.’
I wanted to say so much more. I wanted to explain it properly but the noise in my head had started up again and I was grateful when Daphne helped me to the sofa. I held the cloth to my head and I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew it was the afternoon. I felt so ashamed. I sat up, no violin at all now, no snoring, no fox and everything was nice and quiet.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, and they all laughed.
All three of them. I was about to feel hurt when Nina said, ‘Meggie, that’s exactly what we thought you’d say when you woke up. We betted on it and we were right.’
I could see that was quite funny.
It was amazing to wake up with the three of them there. Almost like a party. Daphne made me some tea and Nina came and perched on the end of the sofa while Grace filled me in.
‘We’re going to keep Nina with us a bit longer,’ she said. ‘Things are pretty bad, we’ll talk to you about them later. No need to go through it all again right now.’
‘No, no, later will be fine,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry.’
They all burst out laughing.
‘Do you realise, Meggie, how often you apologise?’ Nina said. ‘You should stop, you know. No one is cross with you. In fact, I think you’re really cool, letting us all camp out here and everything.’
Meggie, I thought, that sounds nice. Stupid woman that I am, I had to pretend to cough so that she wouldn’t see how grateful and pathetic I was. Stupid woman.
Chapter Ten
Nina
October – four months earlier
In the months after the incident with the clothes, Nina sometimes caught sight of Shaz in the distance as she went between the library and home. She was never completely sure. She felt tingly at the sight of her, as though her skin knew that someone was watching her, and every time, she turned away as quickly as she could. Occasionally, she would see a flash of purple or orange, bright, Shaz-style colours, dipping into a shop or turning a corner. She might have been mistaken, she knew that. Nina had done the same thing before, after her mother stopped turning up to contact meetings. She had seen her everywhere: on buses, in the cinema, even once dressed as a dinner lady serving food at Nina’s school. Nina had run crying from the dining hall when she realised that the woman was nothing like her mother, with different-coloured hair and at least ten years older. You’re too old to get fooled by that sort of nonsense again, she told herself.
Nina concentrated on her school work, tried to make friends with students of her own age and looked out for Bilbo when she could. Some of the girls had realised now that she was clever and funny, and living in a home didn’t seem such a big deal as she got older. In fact, some of the girls thought it was quite cool. The Tracy Beaker effect, Nina called it to herself. She pushed thoughts of Shaz and her strange behaviour to the back of her mind and concentrated on exams and fitting in.
It was autumn again before Nina spoke to Shaz, and Nina was waiting for a bus. It had been difficult getting away without causing a major meltdown for Bilbo and she was worried about him. She thought he might have followed her, he had been so desperate to come along. She pulled her coat up further around her ears and turned her head. Shaz was there, right behind her. Nina jumped.
‘Shaz,’ Nina said, ‘when did you creep up on me? Are you OK?’
Stupid question number one, Nina thought. Shaz was obviously not OK. She had a black eye and she looked unkempt in a way that surprised Nina. Her fingernails were unpainted and crusted with dirt.
‘College girl,’ said Shaz in a sneering tone.
Nina wasn’t sure what to say. She was becoming more confident now in her friendships and her dealings with other young women, but Shaz was different and Nina hoped the bus would come soon.
‘Don’t be like that,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry we don’t hang out any more.’
Nina wasn’t sorry at all, and just thinking that made her feel guilty. After all, Shaz had been there for her when she was at her lowest, and she had tried to be friendly. Nina thought of the bag of clothes and how she had laughed at them, and a feeling of shame washed over her.
‘Would you like to go for a coffee now?’ Nina asked.
Goddammit, girl, she thought, bang goes your quiet afternoon away from the house, away from the kids. What are you thinking of? The trouble was, Nina knew quite well why she had suggested it. There was a horrible unfinished feeling to the friendship with Shaz, and she had fretted over it often in the past year. She wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but she knew that Shaz had been hurt by her.
‘I haven’t got any money, college girl,’ Shaz said.
Nina could hear that Shaz sounded more defeated than aggressive and she felt sad for her.
‘Come on,’ she said, ‘I can stand you a coffee. Even a burger, if you play your cards right.’
Shaz shrugged and the two girls left the bus stop and walked down the hill towards McDonald’s. Nina had taken even more trouble than usual to avoid it since the previous year, and she wasn’t at all happy to be back. It was still a place where nothing good could happen, she thought. Nina would have liked to walk in the park instead, but she could imagine how ridiculous that would seem to Shaz. Just a veggie burger, Nina said to herself, an old debt sorted and then I’ll go into town.
The streets seemed colder than they had when Nina first left the house. The sky was a uniform grey, pressing down on them as they walked, like the lid of a sandwich box.
‘You did good, then, in your exams, college girl?’ Shaz said.
Nina bristled, feeling for the first time that day like the lonely little nerd she had been the previous year.
‘OK,’ she said, shrugging.
‘What are you doing now then?’ Shaz said.
Nina thought that she could hear that Shaz was trying to be nice. She wished she was a kinder person, the kind who could give Shaz a hug, tell her it was all right, that they could be friends again.
‘Just the sixth form college in Lewisham,’ Nina said, ‘the one up near Blackheath. It’s OK.’
Nina wondered how long they would have to drag this out. It’s your own fault, she told herself.
McDonald’s was warm and steamy after the drab cold outside. Nina could smell the familiar smells, frying meat undercut with a tang of broken toilets.
‘Have you noticed,’ Nina said to Shaz, ‘that McDonald’s always smells exactly the same, no matter what time of day or year you come in?’
Shaz laughed and for a moment Nina could see the fun-loving girl she had been so attracted to before. She bought the food and watched as Shaz tore at the burger.
‘Here,’ Nina said, pushing her own food towards Shaz, ‘I had lunch at home, I’m not really hungry.’
The old Shaz would have been far too proud, Nina thought, and she also used to worry about her weight. This new version of Shaz grabbed at it without a second thought. Nina watched the family on the next table so that Shaz wouldn’t be embarrassed, or feel that she was being scrutinised. There were four of them, a mum, a dad, a little girl and a slightly bigger boy. The perfect set-up, Nina thought. She looked back to her table and realised that Shaz had noticed too.
‘Looks perfect, doesn’t it,’ Shaz said, wiping a smear of tomato sauce from her mouth, ‘only I bet it’s not all it seems. Never is. He probably
hits her when no one is looking. Or peers under the door when the kids are getting undressed.’
‘Shaz,’ Nina said, ‘honestly, keep your voice down. They’re not like that, I’m sure they’re not.’
‘Ha,’ said Shaz as if she’d proved an argument with a winning, unanswerable point. ‘They’re all like that, college girl, didn’t you know? You can’t believe anything anyone says, or anything anyone does. The sooner you realise that, the better.’
Nina felt adrift, unable to work out what to say to calm Shaz down.
‘OK,’ she said, ‘I get where you’re coming from. But I’m still going to have to defend them.’ Nina spoke in a quiet voice, hoping that she wouldn’t be overheard. ‘I mean, they look really nice. Look at him helping that little girl wipe her fingers and everything, she doesn’t like being messy.’
‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ said Shaz loudly. ‘Load of fucking losers.’
She pushed the wrappers and boxes from the table on to the floor and moved towards the door. Nina bent and scooped up the rubbish before following her. She was torn between giving the family on the next table an apologetic look and keeping her head down, hoping that no one would notice her. The parents both tutted, and several other customers turned to look at them as Shaz barged out, Nina behind her.
‘Shaz,’ Nina said as soon as they were outside, ‘what on earth is the matter? What’s going on? There were kids in there, you know, what’s got into you?’
Shaz didn’t answer, and Nina realised that she was crying.
‘Hey,’ Nina said, ‘it’s OK, it’s OK.’
She patted Shaz on the arm. I should have left the house at any other time, she thought, any other time at all. I could have been sitting down with a coffee and a book by now, or looking at the jeans in TopShop. Shaz had been there for Nina when she had no other friends, tried to make a friendship even though they were so different. Nina didn’t want her to think she was ungrateful, or a stuck-up bitch. The truth was, she would rather be anywhere than here, but she would hate Shaz to know that.
A Beginner’s Guide to Murder Page 9
