‘I know … but …’
To my surprise her eyes filled with tears. I don’t think I’ve seen her cry since 1986, when she fell off the roundabout and broke her collarbone.
‘Oh, Frankie …’ I rushed towards her and wrapped my arms around her. ‘You’ll always be my best friend.’
‘I’m just being silly, I’m a bit pissed.’ She sniffed against my shoulder and then pulled away, dabbing at her eyes. Her eyeliner had smudged and one of her false eyelashes was coming off at the corner. It looked like a furry caterpillar attached to her eyelid and the ridiculousness of it made me want to giggle.
Just then Leon came bounding through the double doors, bringing with him a burst of Green Day. He had a bottle of K cider in each hand. I prefer Diamond White but didn’t have the heart to tell him after he’d spent all that time queuing. His face lit up when he saw me. ‘There you are,’ he said, handing me a bottle. ‘Urgh, the music’s crap.’ Then he noticed Frankie and I saw him flinch slightly. ‘Frankie. Didn’t know you were coming tonight.’
‘Me and Sophie were supposed to come together. But, of course, she ended up coming with you. Not that I blame her.’ She flashed him a dazzling, toothy smile.
Since Leon admitted it had been Frankie – and not him – who had done the chasing I’ve not really seen them together. He’d called her a stalker. (Like father, like daughter!) If I’d had any doubts that Leon had been lying before, those doubts evaporated as I watched them together. As soon as Leon burst through those doors Frankie became coy, lowered her eyes (which looked a bit weird considering the dislodged eyelash), and twisted her thick hair around her finger. Leon’s body seemed to close in on itself, like he was armouring himself against an imminent attack: hunched shoulders, arms folded, defiant and defensive. I was a fool to think that he secretly fancied Frankie. And it hit me as I watched her watching him: she was in love with him. She was acting around him exactly how she’d acted around Jason. I hadn’t wanted to think about it too much before; maybe I was scared of probing too deeply, worried that Leon was the one lying. On the one hand I felt – still feel – angry at the lies Frankie told me on the night I first met Leon. But on the other hand I understand why she did it. She was in love with him herself and she didn’t want him to go out with anyone else. I feel terrible for not realising how she felt.
In that moment I wanted to tell her that I was sorry. That I would never have gone out with him if I’d known. But I couldn’t say anything in front of Leon. And I couldn’t let her know that he’d told me the truth. Frankie has always been so proud. She would be embarrassed if she thought I knew how she’d chased Leon and how he’d knocked her back.
‘So,’ began Leon and I could tell he was feeling uncomfortable. ‘Has Sophie been telling you all about the big move?’
Frankie turned to me, her eyes wide. ‘What big move?’
I wanted to hurl my bottle at his head. I knew I’d have to tell her some time, but just not yet. What if she told Alistair?
‘Oh,’ I tried to look nonchalant. ‘I got that job in London.’ I waved my hand as though it wasn’t a big deal.
‘Oh my God!’ She jumped up and down in excitement. ‘That’s amazing news, Soph. Well done.’ But there was something fake about her enthusiasm and I could tell that underneath all the exclaiming and hand-waving she was gutted that I was leaving. If it had been the other way around maybe I would have felt the same. ‘Is it the publisher you were telling me about? The one in Ealing?’ My heart skittered that she’d remembered. The less she knew about it the less Alistair knew about it too.
‘Yes, but I’m going to be working at their central London offices.’ The lie tripped easily off my tongue. After all, I’ve had a lot of practise. Leon frowned at me, his expression puzzled.
‘I thought you said …’ he began. But I cut him off before he could say anything else by rushing up to Frankie and hugging her again.
‘I’ll miss you,’ I said. ‘But when I’m settled you can come and visit.’
When Leon walked me home later that night he asked me why I’d lied.
‘Because I don’t want her to know too much about it,’ I said. We had reached my house and were hovering by the garage.
A flash of disappointment crossed his face. ‘But why? I thought she was your best friend.’
‘She is, but … you know what she’s like. As much as I love her I think we need some distance. Otherwise she’ll be up every weekend! Anyway, I’ve said I’ll go shopping with her next week.’
He looked down at his feet, stubbing the toe of his desert boot against the pavement. Neither of us had drunk that much but Leon seemed agitated.
‘What is it?’ I urged.
He looked up, his eyes sad. ‘Do you want some distance from me too?’
‘Of course not. You can come and visit. And maybe when you’ve finished your apprenticeship you could move to London too?’ I wanted it so badly, despite the lies between us. In a perfect world we would head off to London together, make a life away from this place, away from Alistair and the ghost of Jason. Away from it all, to start again. But would the past just follow us? Could we ever truly escape?
The hope in his eyes made my heart ache with shame.
He gently pulled me into his arms and, as we snogged, our bodies pressed up against each other so that we were as close as we could be with our clothes on. He had his hands on my bottom and one of my legs was wrapped around his when I heard the purr of a car engine further down the road. I didn’t think much of it as I was so caught up in the moment, but as the car drove past it seemed to slow, causing me to open my eyes. I stiffened at the unmistakable outline of Alistair’s black BMW. But before I could react, it sped off and rounded the corner out of sight.
34
Frankie
I sit in my Range Rover overlooking the Grand Pier. The sky has darkened and the wind’s picked up. The grey clouds cluster together threateningly as though ganging up on me.
It’s not even ten minutes before Daniel’s car putters up alongside mine. I watch as he gets out, wrestling with his long coat against the wind. He knocks on my window and I unlock the door to let him in. He slides into the passenger seat, blowing on his hands and bringing with him the smell of the sea air. ‘Shit, it’s cold,’ he says and I crank the heating up. ‘So, what’s going on, Franks? Why the mystery?’
So I tell him everything I’ve found out so far and watch as his eyes seem to grow rounder with every word I say.
‘Leon owns the apartment?’ he says, frowning. ‘I never knew that.’
‘And I never knew you owned mine.’ I glare at him.
He shuffles, looking shamefaced. ‘So you looked it up too?’
‘Of course. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I don’t know. I thought you might not want to stay there if you knew I owned it.’
I’m perplexed. ‘Why ever not?’
‘Too familiar perhaps, and the money thing. I couldn’t afford to let you stay there rent-free, although I did do a reduced rate for you. But journalists don’t earn much, you know, and I have rent to pay on the place I’m living in and …’
I hold up my hand. ‘I don’t give a toss about the money,’ I snap. ‘I just wish you’d been honest.’
He hangs his head, his dark fringe flopping into his eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mutters.
I shake my head. Something doesn’t make sense. ‘Why would you choose to buy a flat overlooking the place where your sister disappeared? Isn’t it a bit … ghoulish?’
His head shoots up. ‘I’ve never lived there. I bought it a few years ago now. It came up on the market quite cheap as it needed renovating. I wasn’t living in Oldcliffe then, but thought it might give me some extra income. So I rent it out during the holiday period.’
Who would have thought it, Soph? Your brother becoming responsible enough to think about a business opportunity.
‘Did you know that Leon owned one in the same building?’
His
eyes are earnest. ‘I honestly had no idea. But it makes sense for similar reasons. To have a foothold here while he lives abroad.’
‘Bit of a coincidence,’ I can’t help but mutter. He shoots me a look I can’t read. Why do I get the sense there is something he’s not telling me? Your brother was always so honest, so black and white. About his feelings, about everything. ‘I think Leon’s been writing the notes,’ I blurt out. Hatred for Leon weaves its way into my heart, eating up any love that I might have had for him. ‘He’s obviously out to get me, Daniel. Do you know what I think?’
‘Go on.’
‘I think he hurt Sophie that night. Maybe it was an accident, maybe he did it on purpose. They finished that night, who knows why. Then I saw her in the toilets, she was crying …’
He frowns. ‘What time was this?’
‘I can’t remember exactly. It’s all in the original police statement I made. But I don’t think I saw her again after midnight.’
‘And Leon?’
‘I didn’t see him again, either.’
Daniel sighs. ‘He’s always said he left at eleven and Sophie was seen in the club after that …’
‘But maybe he waited for her? They could have argued, then he pushed her into the sea.’
‘He had an alibi.’
‘What? His piss-head of a brother?’
‘His sister-in-law, Steph. She said he was home by eleven thirty. Remember? He was up talking to her for ages, apparently pouring his heart out –’
I make an unattractive snorting sound, cutting Daniel off. The silence in the car lasts a fraction too long to be comfortable and I wonder what he’s thinking.
Eventually he sighs and runs his hands through his hair. ‘Look, I don’t like the bloke particularly. But do you think he would really have hurt her? I could see how much he loved her. And I saw how devastated he was when they finished. There was no reason why he would want to hurt her. And no witnesses, nothing. And remember, those kids from the beach said they saw a girl matching Soph’s description walking along the promenade alone.’
‘But you think someone did hurt her, otherwise you wouldn’t have dragged me back here,’ I say hotly.
Daniel is staring at me and the expression on his face isn’t love, or even affection. It’s disappointment.
‘Frankie …’ he begins, taking my hand. ‘Oh, Frankie …’ He turns my hand over in his as if contemplating saying something.
I frown. ‘What’s the matter?’ I reach up and touch his face and say more softly, ‘What is it, Dan?’
‘It’s been such a long time,’ he says, his eyes fixed on mine. ‘So many years. So many lies.’
What is he on about?
‘What do you mean?’
He stares at me a little longer. The atmosphere in the car is thick. He’s beginning to scare me.
‘I just want it to be over,’ he says, still holding my gaze. ‘Don’t you?’
And he’s right. I do want it to be over, Soph. I want to leave Oldcliffe. I want to get on with my life. I wish I could make a life with your brother, but somehow I don’t think that will happen.
‘Dan,’ I say softly, my fingers caressing his cheek, ‘it can be over. Now that we know it’s Leon who owns the apartment it must be him sending the letters, he must know about Jason and –’
He moves away from me and I drop my hand in my lap as though it’s been burnt. ‘Why do you think it’s Leon?’ He looks out towards the choppy seas.
‘I think Sophie admitted to him what happened with Jason. I think he killed her and now I think he’s playing with me, biding his time before killing me too.’
‘You think Leon wants to hurt you?’
‘Why else is he doing this?’ I cry, my voice rising. ‘The recording that he set up in his apartment. I had seven miscarriages, Daniel. Seven. I can’t have children. It’s like he knows this … it’s like he knows and is taunting me.’ I can’t prevent it. A tear snakes down my cheek.
Daniel shuffles towards me and puts an arm awkwardly around my shoulder. I notice his hip is jammed against the gearstick. ‘Oh, Franks, I’m sorry.’ We stay like this for a few minutes before he moves away from me, exclaiming that his arm’s gone dead. ‘And that bloody gearstick is cutting into my thigh.’
I can’t help but giggle as he moves back to his seat, and it breaks the tension. Then, more seriously, he says, ‘We should go to the police.’
The thought of involving the police frightens me, Soph. I did love Leon once. And so did you. Could I really shop him to the police?
‘We don’t have any evidence,’ I say.
‘What about the computer? The notes?’
I frown. My eyes hurt. ‘Well, yes. But … but is that enough? He’s not threatened to hurt me. Yet. Will the police do anything? Will they believe me?’
‘I don’t know,’ Daniel says, shaking his head. ‘If something happened to you, Franks, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.’
I fidget, worried about how he will react to my next words. ‘I’m going home tonight, Dan. Back to London. I can’t spend another night in that place. I know you own it and everything and no offence, but it freaks me out. Especially after last night.’
‘I could stay with you …?’
I was all set to go home but the thought of leaving Daniel behind, of not seeing him every day, makes me want to cry. I know he has a girlfriend but that doesn’t stop me hoping that he might change his mind. That he might realise that I’m the one for him and not this Mia. And if I stayed in Oldcliffe and he spent the night, it might lead to something.
I swallow and try to regulate my breathing. ‘What about Mia?’
A shadow passes across his face. ‘She’ll understand,’ he says stiffly. ‘To be honest, things with Mia …’ He shakes his head as if trying to dislodge an unpleasant or disloyal thought. ‘It doesn’t matter. But I’m not going to leave you on your own tonight. And tomorrow we’ll go to the police station and identify Sophie’s remains. Just one more night, that’s all I’m asking.’
‘Thank you,’ I say. I reach over and touch his hand, a thrill travelling up my arm.
A blush creeps up his neck, spreading to his face like a rash. ‘Right,’ he says, clearing his throat and moving his hand away. ‘What are we going to do about Leon?’
35
Sophie
Tuesday, 19 August 1997
Alistair is still watching me. I can sense him. Sometimes, at work, I look up and through the throng of tourists on the promenade I’ll spot him in the distance. Other times he’ll actually be in the queue for cockles or cod and chips, leering at me over the heads of the other customers. The other day, when I was having an ice cream with Helen on the Grand Pier, he was there, sitting on one of the benches, pretending to read a newspaper.
‘Oh look, there’s Frankie’s dad,’ Helen said, stopping in her tracks, her hand on my arm to stop me. He’d looked up at us then, as if he knew we were talking about him, and treated us to a beaming smile. ‘I have to say,’ said Helen in a loud whisper, ‘he’s a bit of all right, ain’t he? For a dad.’
‘Come on,’ I insisted, refusing to look at him and pulling her towards the exit. How I longed to tell her what a mentalist he is, how he won’t take no for an answer, how he tries to kiss me, threaten me, unnerve me, stalk me. She wouldn’t believe it. Who would? Appearances can be deceptive.
Alistair is creeping me out. I couldn’t stop thinking about him as I walked around River Island with Frankie this afternoon. She insisted we catch the train rather than the bus to Bristol, moaning all the way to Temple Meads about the injustice that she still doesn’t have her own car yet. ‘My dad promised to buy one for my twenty-first but it still hasn’t materialised,’ she said, while I glanced out of the window and tried to avoid talking about my imminent move to London.
I hoped she wouldn’t ask me anything about it. The less she knows the less chance Alistair has of finding out. But no such luck. In amongst the combat trousers, with ‘Don
’t Look Back in Anger’ blaring overhead, she broached the subject.
‘So,’ she said, while fingering the material on a particularly hideous pair of army-print trousers. ‘What’s happening about your job then? When do you start?’
I tried to look nonchalant and not as though I was counting down the days. ‘September fifteenth.’
‘That’s less than a month. Surely you’ll be making plans? You’ll need to spend a day in London and find digs.’ She shoved the army trousers back on the rail and moved to a row of corduroy miniskirts. ‘We could go on Monday if you like? I’ve been thinking about it and wouldn’t it be great if I moved up with you?’ She flicked through the skirts but I could tell she wasn’t really interested in them. ‘Dad wants me to work for him and Mum, but I think it would be better if I could find a job in one of the big hotels in London …’
I needed to stop her before she ran away with herself. ‘Frankie …’
She ignored me, pulling a maroon skirt off the rack. ‘What am I going to learn at a little tin-pot business in the back of beyond?’ she said, her nose virtually pressed up against the skirt’s fabric. ‘I’ve been thinking of moving away for a while … but it’s no fun on your own, is it? Much better to do it with a friend. With you.’
‘Frankie … listen …’
She replaced the skirt and spun around to face me, her eyes flashing. ‘You’re going to say no, aren’t you? I can tell by your voice.’
‘It’s Leon. He wants to move up with me.’
‘Leon?’ She scowled. ‘You’re going to live together?’
A fresh wave of nausea engulfed me. It was as though I was weighed down by a heavy suit of armour. The thought of dealing with Leon, trying to appease Frankie, avoiding Alistair, was becoming too much. It made me want to hide away, to never leave the house again. ‘I don’t know yet, it’s early days but we love each other.’
‘Love?’ The force of the word from her lips made me look up. Her face was unusually pale, her dark brows knitted together. ‘I’ve told you, he’s bad news.’
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