Her Last Breath

by Tracy Buchanan

  When they got inside, Peter and Veronica came up to greet them. Darren wasn’t far behind, looking at Estelle with approval. Several other people were already there. The usual Lillysands faces, of course. Some new faces too: mainly middle-aged, middle-class men in suits. The fact that Peter and Darren led Estelle, Max and Autumn over to them suggested it was these men they wanted to impress.

  ‘Here we have a bona fide Lillysands success story,’ Darren said, introducing Estelle to two large men whose faces were already red from the wine they’d drunk. ‘You’ll be seeing her food book all over the shelves next month. Am I right, Estelle?’ he added, hand smooth on her back. His touch unsettled her, firmer than Aiden’s, more controlling.

  Estelle forced a smile. ‘Well, I don’t know about “all over”,’ she said, shaking the men’s hands as she looked around the room for the person she really wanted to speak to, the Chief Inspector that had been in charge of Alice’s case. She hoped he was in uniform, otherwise how else would she recognise him?

  Darren continued to introduce her to more businessmen, implying Autumn and Max were her parents, that she’d spent her life in Lillysands. Estelle didn’t correct him. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting information on Alice and therefore Poppy too. She’d checked her phone again for developments before coming out but nothing had changed. What if she was out there, being held against her will, and everyone was brushing her off as a runaway?

  ‘As you can see,’ Darren said to one particularly large businessman, gesturing to the marina outside, ‘the potential of this town is astounding. We already have a thriving tourism industry. If we could enhance the marina, then who knows where it could lead?’ He raised an eyebrow, rubbing his thumb and fingers together. Estelle thought of what Aiden had said about Darren, unable to stop herself from smiling. ‘And there you’ll see preparations are being made for our famous annual festival,’ Darren added, gesturing towards a group of men battling the strong coastal breeze to set a marquee up on the beach. ‘The festival draws thousands of tourists in each year, and this year we have even grander plans for it.’

  ‘Does the weather ever affect it?’ one businessman asked.

  ‘Weather?’ Darren said with a laugh, indicating the tan line on his neck. ‘We were bathing in beautiful sunshine this time last week.’

  ‘Yes, but the flooding has been rather bad in previous years,’ the businessman replied.

  Max and Peter exchanged a look. ‘That’s a rare occurrence,’ Max said. ‘So, tell me, how’s business your end?’

  As they talked, Estelle noticed a grey-haired man walk in wearing a police uniform. He was with another officer, a woman, who disappeared to the corner of the room, phone close to her ear.

  ‘Excuse me a moment, will you?’ Estelle said to the men she’d been talking to. ‘I’ve just seen someone I know.’

  She quickly headed towards the Chief Inspector, fixing a smile onto her face. ‘Oh my gosh, is it really you?’ He frowned and she bit her lip. ‘You gave me a telling-off when I was a kid. I was smoking on the beach?’ He looked puzzled and she wasn’t surprised. She’d never had any dealings with him. ‘Estelle Forster.’ She put her hand out, smiling at him. ‘I promise, I don’t smoke any more. In fact, the talking-to that you gave me possibly started me on my road to healthy living.’

  Recognition flooded his face. ‘Ah, the famous author!’

  ‘You’ve heard already?’

  ‘Who hasn’t around here, with Max and Autumn as your biggest fans? Book’s out soon, isn’t it?’

  She nodded.

  A waiter with tiny canapés came over. The Chief Inspector took one, raising an eyebrow. ‘Were these made by dwarves?’

  She laughed. ‘Not impressed?’

  ‘I’m missing my wife’s pie and mash lunch for this. But then I suppose you don’t do roast dinners with all this healthy eating stuff, do you?’

  ‘On the contrary. I do an amazing one-pot roast that’s all about the flavour. I get rave reviews for it, honestly.’

  He smiled. ‘Maybe I’ll get the wife to buy your book then.’

  ‘I’ll do one better and send you a copy to give to her.’

  His smile deepened. ‘That’s very kind of you. Now, I better go talk to some of these investors about our impeccable crime record.’ He raised an eyebrow, leaning down to her. ‘I’ll leave out the bit about the chain-smoking teenagers we have here. It was good to see you, Estelle. So wonderful to see you doing so well.’

  He went to walk away but Estelle touched his arm lightly. ‘Wait. I just wanted to ask you something.’

  He paused. ‘Sure, go ahead.’

  ‘I know you dealt with Alice Shepherd’s death.’

  He frowned. ‘Yes, I was involved with that along with Sergeant Beckett over there,’ he said, gesturing to the policewoman who was talking on the phone.

  ‘Before Alice died, did you ever have any dealings with her?’

  Something flickered in his eyes.

  ‘So you did?’ Estelle said.

  The Chief Inspector peered over at his colleague then away again. ‘I really shouldn’t be discussing this with you. I hope your book launch is successful.’ He nodded and walked away.

  Estelle clenched her fists in frustration. She looked over at Sergeant Beckett. Clearly she also knew something judging from the way the Chief Inspector had looked at her. The policewoman put her phone down and Estelle went to walk towards her but then Max appeared.

  ‘What was that all about?’ he asked, watching as the Chief Inspector strode away.

  Estelle forced a smile onto her face. ‘I was just telling him off for all the crap he eats, he wasn’t impressed,’ she said quickly, watching as Sergeant Beckett headed over to the Chief Inspector, whispered in his ear before walking out of the building.

  Max laughed, eyes still on the Chief Inspector. ‘Sounds like you want to give us all a healthy-eating makeover.’

  Estelle faked a laugh. ‘I can but try. Right, I’m popping to the loo.’

  ‘I’ll save you a glass of champers,’ he said. ‘Only joking!’

  Estelle smiled then walked towards the toilets, looking over her shoulder at Max. When she saw he wasn’t watching, she slipped out the front. It was strangely dark outside, black clouds coating the sky. In the distance, she saw the policewoman opening the door of a car.

  ‘Wait!’ she shouted out.

  Sergeant Beckett looked up, frowning.

  ‘Hi, sorry,’ Estelle said, jogging over to her and smiling. ‘I was just talking to the Chief Inspector, he suggested I talk to you.’

  ‘How can I help?’

  ‘Did you work on Alice Shepherd’s case?’

  The Sergeant looked at her in surprise. ‘That was years ago! Why are you asking about that now?’

  ‘I’m Estelle Forster. I was one of the kids Autumn and Max fostered. I lived with Alice.’ Estelle looked towards the cliff edge. ‘The Chief Inspector suggested there was more to her case. I had a feeling something was going on with Alice before she died.’

  The Sergeant looked cynical.

  Estelle looked into her eyes. ‘She was like a sister to me. I suppose coming back here again has brought back all those memories and a bunch of questions too, especially as the anniversary of her death was just a few days ago.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ The Sergeant sighed. ‘Look, I can’t remember the exact details, but yes, Alice came to us before she died.’

  Estelle felt her heart start to thump. ‘Why?’

  ‘She was hurt and scared. Nothing serious but—’ Sergeant Beckett shook her head. ‘No, I’ve already said too much. I really must go, I’m sorry.’

  She went to step into her car but Estelle put her hand on the officer’s arm. ‘If Alice was being threatened, had been hurt, why did you so easily accept that she committed suicide? Surely her death would be deemed suspicious?’

  ‘That’s enough, Miss Forster,’ the Sergeant said sternly, shrugging Estelle’s arm off and gettin
g into the car. As the Sergeant drove away, rain started hammering down on top of Estelle. But she stayed where she was, peering into the distance as she wrapped her arms around herself.

  Alice had been hurt before she died, so hurt the police had got involved. More and more evidence was mounting up to suggest she may have been killed. But none that was definitive.

  Estelle sighed and went to run back inside. But then she paused. In the distance was a blurry figure, long red hair trailing in the rain.

  ‘Alice?’ Estelle whispered.

  Chapter Sixteen

  You saw me. I’m getting sloppy.

  But I don’t think you recognised me.

  Deep breaths. Calm down. It’ll be fine.

  I need to be smarter about this.

  But am I really up to it?

  Yes, of course I am! You’re unravelling. I can see it.

  Fake smile. Pristine hair. Perfect clothes.

  But the eyes. They’re starting to give everyone a glimpse of the real you inside.

  Fear. Doubt.

  Good.

  For a moment, you were getting comfortable. You were starting to really think you could be part of Lillysands.

  But you aren’t and never will be.

  I’ll make sure of that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘Did you just say “Alice”?’

  Estelle turned to see Autumn shivering behind her.

  She thought of the figure, blurred by the rain. ‘I – I thought I saw her, but of course that’s not possible.’

  Autumn put her arms around Estelle’s shoulders. ‘Come on, you’re getting drenched.’ Estelle let Autumn steer her into the building but twisted around to look over her shoulder towards where she’d seen the figure. It was raining so heavily, her eyesight was blurred. She was so sure it was a girl and her first thought, inexplicably, had been Alice.

  Was she losing her mind? Maybe she really was – the stress of the past few weeks getting to her. No wonder she was jumping to conclusions about Alice’s death, Poppy’s disappearance.

  She looked at Autumn. ‘Do you think Alice really killed herself?’ She needed someone else to back up her theory. Someone whose opinion she trusted, like Autumn.

  Autumn looked at her in shock. ‘Where on earth is this coming from?’

  ‘I – I don’t know. I just wonder if she was really capable of committing suicide, you know? The Alice we all knew, killing herself, actively choosing to jump from that cliff.’

  Autumn raised an eyebrow. ‘Darling, have you been drinking?’

  ‘No, I just—’ Estelle sighed, raking her fingers through her soaking hair. ‘Ignore me. I’m just over-tired, that’s all.’

  They walked inside.

  ‘I better go dry off,’ Estelle said, peering towards the toilets.

  ‘Let me help you, I’m an expert at drying wine stains off clothes using a hand dryer, I’m sure my skills can extend to a bit of rain.’

  ‘No!’ It came out harder than Estelle intended, but she needed to be alone. ‘I’ll be fine, really,’ she added more softly.

  She strode towards the toilets. When she got into a cubicle, she sat on the toilet seat, her head in her hands. It was making her head throb: Alice, Poppy, the photos.

  How was it all connected? Why could no one else see that something was wrong?

  She quickly got her phone out, checking for more updates on Poppy. But nothing. It wasn’t even headline news any more.

  She had to get to the bottom of this all before it was too late. After what the Sergeant told her about Alice going to them hurt and scared before she died, she was beginning to see this might be about more than just threats. Someone had hurt Alice. If the same person was threatening Estelle and was with Poppy, then they could hurt her too.

  She had to stop them before that happened.

  But who were they? She hadn’t got any closer to finding out.

  She took some quick deep breaths then stood back up, moving out of the cubicle and looking in the mirror above the sinks. Her mascara was streaked, her hair a mess. ‘Pull yourself together,’ she whispered to herself. She dug around in her bag with shaky fingers and combed her hair, reapplying her lipstick. ‘There. Back to normal.’

  Then she walked back into the room. As she did so, she noticed Autumn being comforted by Max. Oh god, she’d upset her and on her birthday too! She quickly strode over. ‘Autumn, I’m so sorry, I’m just—’

  ‘Oh I’m not upset about that, sweetie,’ Autumn said, sniffing.

  ‘Our caterers have fallen through for the party tonight,’ Max explained, blue eyes flashing with anger. ‘I booked them months ago.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Autumn said, smiling through her tears. ‘I’m being silly, crying! It’s only a party. We can grab some platters from M&S. I’m sure people will understand.’

  Estelle couldn’t stand seeing her foster mother so upset. ‘Let me cook,’ she said quickly.

  Autumn frowned. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. I have plenty of experience. How many people will be there?’

  Autumn and Max looked at each other. ‘Forty, fifty?’ Max said.

  ‘That’s fine. I have a whole load of canapé recipes on my YouTube channel. And I promise you, they’ll taste divine and be healthy.’

  ‘Are you sure, darling?’ Autumn asked.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Estelle replied, feeling a surge of adrenalin. She could be of use, do something to make Autumn happy rather than going on a wild goose chase. ‘It’ll be all hands on deck, I’ll need help. But yeah, I can do it.’

  ‘This means you’ll come to my party then?’ August asked.

  Estelle thought about it. She hadn’t been sure that morning. But now she knew more was going on than she first thought, she realised the only way she had a chance of finding out was by staying in Lillysands, the place Poppy was born … the place where Alice had died.

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  Autumn’s face lit up and she grabbed Estelle, kissing her on the cheek. ‘You’re an angel!’

  After they left the restaurant, Autumn and Estelle made a mad dash around the local food market and supermarket. Though Autumn still threw in some party classics Estelle would rather avoid – dips and sausage rolls; trifles and crisps – Estelle was able to convince her to add some of her own favourites too. In fact, as they walked around, picking up vegetables and fruit, feeling their textures, sniffing them, it reminded Estelle of the time she used to spend with Autumn talking about and tasting food. Like the time Autumn had managed to get a booking at one of London’s top restaurants for a seven-course meal to celebrate a glowing school report for Estelle. They’d travelled across the country in blazing sunshine in Autumn’s silver convertible, staying in the plush apartment rented out by Autumn’s old school friend Becca for client meetings. Estelle had felt so grown-up, sitting in the beautiful blue dress Autumn had bought her, sampling some of the most delicious tastes she’d ever experienced, looking around with wide eyes at the ornate surroundings and beautiful people. After, Autumn had taken her behind the scenes and Estelle had got her first look at the kitchens of a world-renowned restaurant. The chef had been a woman, tall and elegant, not batting an eyelid during the mad rush of lunch. She was an old friend of Autumn’s and let Estelle taste different dishes, even helped her cook up a delicious soup filled with spices and exotic vegetables. On the train journey back, weighed down with bags of food, her and Autumn had talked excitedly about Estelle becoming a chef herself. From then on, her evenings and weekends were spent preparing meals with Autumn, helping her taste all the food she was sent by clients. ‘Your palette is second to none,’ Autumn would exclaim in excitement.

  But then those dreams were shattered when Estelle found out she was pregnant. Even with Autumn’s reassurances nothing would have to change once she gave the child up for adoption, Estelle felt tainted. How could she be like that elegant chef with a history like hers? How could she possibly rise above her grimy childhood if she was d
oing exactly what her mother had done at that age?

  But she had risen above it. She had to keep reminding herself that. And having Autumn and Max so proud of her made her believe it too. Seeing that figure in the road earlier had just been a glitch. She had to gain control, rein her emotions in, be the person she’d worked so hard to be. And she’d prove that by making all the food for the party.

  When they got back to the house, they found Max and Aiden waiting for them dressed in aprons.

  ‘Oh good, the help’s arrived,’ Autumn said with a wink.

  Estelle couldn’t help her tummy tilting as she took Aiden in, windswept from his time on the beach. Even in a frilly white apron, he still managed to have that effect on her.

  ‘Right,’ Estelle said, forcing the thoughts away. ‘Chopping duty,’ she declared, pointing at Aiden. ‘And stirring duties,’ she added, pointing at Max. ‘We have two hours to produce enough food for fifty guests.’

  Max and Aiden raised an eyebrow at each other.

  ‘Yes, sir!’ Autumn exclaimed, putting her hand to her head like a Sergeant Major.

  Estelle smiled. ‘Don’t look so worried! We can still have fun while doing it. Music?’

  Max’s face broke into a grin. ‘Fabulous.’ He went to his iPod and switched it on, the rock music he and Autumn so loved soon pouring out of the speakers.

  As Autumn unloaded all the food, Estelle set out the utensils, including the spiraliser she’d convinced Autumn to buy for the salad. For the next hour, they all worked at prepping the dishes, dancing to the music as they did so and giggling as Max and Aiden juggled the vegetables. In the background, heavy rain battered down, turning the skies dark. But it somehow added to the atmosphere, making the kitchen feel like the only bright spot on the planet. Estelle’s heart swelled. It was just like the old days when Estelle, Alice and Aiden would help Autumn prepare and serve the food for the various dinner parties they’d throw for Max and Peter’s business associates.