The Girlfriend: A Josie Cloverfield Detective Novel

by Jack Carteret

  “That’s your car?” I said, the surprise in my voice totally undisguised.

  “Yes, why?”

  “It looks kind of…”

  “Old and knackered?”

  “Well, yes. Sorry. That’s totally rude coming from an eternal bus-pass holder.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It is a bit of a heap, but it’s all I could afford.”

  “Really?” Voice totally incredulous. Such double standards!

  “Yes, really. Look, I know I come from a family who are well off, but that doesn’t mean I’m spoiled, ok?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’m sorry.” And I really was.

  “You don’t have to be sorry, Josie. I come from a well-off family and you don’t. That’s not something either one of us had a say in, is it? I mean, it just is as it is. But does it have to mean that we can’t be friends?”

  “No, it doesn’t.” I said, my head a bit on the droopy and ashamed side as I tried to open the door of the old heap.

  “See, that’s the kind of thing that just doesn’t matter to me. It matters to Fliss and Amelia and people like that, but I’m not one of them. People are all different, Josie, and it wouldn’t hurt you to give me a chance.” Richard was thoroughly enjoying the moral high-ground and, as I struggled in vain with the door of the Peugeot, I could not find any way of taking back my self-righteous indignation.

  “Yes, you’re right.” I said, wishing he would just let it go already.

  “I mean, I bet you have very little in common with Snatcher Harris! I wouldn’t judge you to be the same as him just because you come from the same place.”

  “Alright! I get it! Social prejudice is no more justified for being aimed upwards!” I said, completely frustrated by being wrong, being tired, and being completely unable to get into the car. “How the hell does this door open?”

  “Oh, you have to kind of lift it up a bit as you pull it towards you. I think the hinges have dropped a bit or something.”

  I did as instructed, with a certain amount of gusto, and very nearly ended up on my already bruised backside.

  “You’re pretty smooth, aren’t you?” Richard said, once again holding back the laughter.

  “So I’ve been told.” I said, smiling; well, at least he seemed to have forgiven me for my bout of class intolerance.

  Once I’d successfully negotiated my way into the old Peugeot and slammed the knackered door shut, I was further surprised to find that the interior of Rich Richard’s car was even worse than the exterior. The seat I was on had a hole in it big enough for me to hide in.

  “Keep your comments to yourself.” Richard said, but with a lovely, jokey tone. I really had been forgiven.

  “Roger wilco.” I said, a tired little laugh escaping. “So, what did you want to tell me, Richard?”

  “Well, I don’t know how to say this in a way that won’t make you look at me differently.” He began, suddenly all bumbly and nervous.

  “Richard, we hardly know each other.” I said, wondering why he gave a damn what I thought of him. “I mean, what I know of you, I like. And you’ve been there as an ally whenever something ugly happens in the canteen……” I stopped for a moment. “Actually, the fact that you are always there when someone takes a verbal swing at me or stares me down might actually qualify you more for the role of jinx than ally.”

  I was cold, tired and extremely hungry. Apart from the single slice of pizza and the sugary treats, all donated by Liam, I had eaten very little that day.

  The fact that the day seemed to have grown to about ten metres long was not lost on me either. It was like the longest day ever. I opened my rucksack and took out the battered Golden Delicious apple.

  “Thanks.” Richard said, rather genuinely.

  “For what?” I said, taking a huge bite of the apple whilst I wondered what the hell he was thanking me for.

  “For putting me at my ease. You know, making me laugh and stuff. You’re pretty cool.”

  “I actually meant the part about you being a jinx.” I said, through a mouthful of well-passed-its-best appley goodness.

  Richard just laughed, presumably assuming that I was still joking. Ok, if that makes you happy….

  “Anyway, I suppose I’d better just come right out with it.” Richard began with a rueful smile.

  As I took the second bite, I was so done-in that I couldn’t summon up a single suspenseful emotion. In fact, all I had left in me was the notion that, if this thing was not as worth hearing as it promised to be, I would wrench off the knackered old car door and use it to beat Rich Richard to within an inch of his life.

  “I slept with Hannah.” He said, in the same way a person might say pass the salt. Totally flat and what-not. So much so that it took a second or two for that little gem to sink in. When it did, I kind of shrieked, but I inhaled quite a sizeable chunk of apple at the same time.

  “Josie? Are you ok?” Richard leaned forward in his seat and turned to look at me.

  I was coughing so hard that my eyes streamed and my hands were full of chewed apple bits. Sadly, not the errant apple-bit that was causing all the problems.

  “Josie? Are you choking?” He looked just the right amount of serious now and, without any further ado, Richard shoved me forward and hit me really hard on the back. And, voila! One huge piece of apple hit the dashboard with the intensity of a bullet.

  It took me a few minutes to get my breath back and sort out the whole horrible mess of chewed apple, and Richard just waited patiently. Finally, red faced and damp eyed from the strain of it all, I turned to look at him.

  “You slept with Hannah?” I said, my voice a tiny squeak emanating from a severely sore throat.

  “Yeah.” Richard said, somewhat shame-faced. “And sorry about the apple and stuff. I thought I was playing it down, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” I said, smiling at him regardless of my near-death experience. “When?”

  “It was before Liam, if that’s what you were worrying about.” He said, keen to let me know he hadn’t done my best friend a wrong’un.

  “I hadn’t really thought of that.” I said, truthfully.

  After all, it was beginning to look like Liam wouldn’t have been too bothered about that anyway, if his reaction to all the other revelations was anything to go by.

  “But I was seeing Fliss at the time. It only happened the once…” He began, spreading his hands wide as if he somehow needed my forgiveness. “But it was kind of…. planned. It wasn’t like a spur of the moment thing, you know? I can’t just say it just happened or it was just one of those things.”

  My brain was back up and running, despite the fact that the rest of me was just about ready to pass out from pure fatigue.

  “When Fliss and Amelia were at the spa?”

  “Jeez! How did you know that?” Richard’s eyes were wider than saucers.

  I have to admit to a little bit of self-satisfaction at this point. I’ve got a wicked memory for things I’ve read.

  “Hannah’s diary.” I said, simply.

  “She put it in her diary?” Suddenly, Richard looked totally alarmed.

  “Not in so many words, no. There was just a note in there that Fliss and Amelia were going to the spa on 12th August, but it wasn’t clear if Hannah was going with them. Anyhow, at the end of the entry was Richie in parenthesis.”

  “In what?”

  “Brackets, you numpty.”

  “Seriously? And you just made that connection from that?”

  “Uh-huh.” I said, trying to be nonchalant, but beaming like the Cheshire Cat.

  “No way!” I have to say that he certainly seemed impressed; so much so that he lost the panicked look.

  “Oh God, you haven’t told the Police about the diary yet, have you?” And the panicked look came back.

  “Well, no. I don’t really know what to do about that. I mean, I don’t want to hide stuff from the Police, you know? But at the same time, I haven’t read it all the way through yet and I’m
not keen to give them something that might be misconstrued by them and used against anyone who is actually innocent.” I knew my explanation was clumsy, to say the least.

  “So, it says something about Liam?”

  “Actually, no. Well, not so far, anyway.” I kind of lied a little bit, but not much.

  It didn’t really say much about Liam, but rather spoke volumes about a possible motive. Still, I didn’t really think Rich Richard needed to know it all just yet. After all, could I really trust him?

  “And does it say anything else about me?” Richard asked so openly that I didn’t know if I should be suspicious or not.

  “No, just your name in paren… brackets. That’s all.”

  “I’m just worried that if the cops knew I had a fling with Hannah, then they might think I have something to do with her disappearance. After all, look at the way they are treating Liam.”

  “Yeah, true enough.” I said, knowing that he had a point. “Look, I wasn’t planning to go to the Police with it yet. Maybe not even at all.”

  “But you’re going to keep investigating?”

  “Well, I guess so. If you can call it that. Mostly it just feels like I’m stumbling around in the dark and banging into wardrobes and stuff.” I said with the sort of sigh that should have told anybody that I was exhausted.

  “Good, well… if you need my help with any of it. You know; just call me, ok?”

  “Thanks Richard.” I said with a smile, getting ready to take my leave. Sadly, my brain was still having its own little private disco, and another thought occurred to me. “Hey, Richard, did Fliss know that you and Hannah….?”

  “Jeez, no! I wouldn’t be sitting here now if she did.” Richard said, his expression somewhere between comical exaggeration and the awful truth.

  “Really?”

  “Well, yes, really. Fliss has a nasty temper when provoked, and my cheating on her would definitely have provoked it.”

  “Nasty like, violent nasty?” I said, my interest piqued once more.

  “Yes.” He said, quietly. I was really hoping I wasn’t about to get some horrible tale of teen domestic violence. He looked kind of tortured at that moment, and my fears were all heading in the same direction.

  “You mean….. you?” I really didn’t know how else to say it. I was almost wishing I had totally choked on the apple.

  “No, not me. Amelia.”

  In that moment, I hated myself for being relieved.

  “Oh, I see. How, though? I mean, she, like, hits Amelia?”

  “Yeah, from time to time. I saw her fly at Amelia once for buying a pair of shoes that Fliss had her eye on. She scratched her face. It was nasty, actually. Kind of deep scratching. It was a couple of weeks before we started uni, and Amelia was still wearing thick make-up at the start of the semester.”

  “Oh no.” I said, with gusto. Obviously, Richard didn’t know how crappy I was feeling about my relief.

  It wasn’t that I thought it was ok for Fliss to hurt Amelia; I was just glad she hadn’t hurt Richard. I hope that makes sense.

  “And was it a regular thing?” I went on, my disco brain now dancing like Napoleon Dynamite.

  “It was the only time I saw it, but… I don’t know…. Amelia didn’t seem outraged, or even surprised by it. I guess I just came to the conclusion that it wasn’t the first time.” Richard said, looking a little ashamed of himself. “But I did tackle her, Josie. I said I couldn’t believe she went off like that over something as stupid as shoes.”

  “What happened then?”

  “She turned as if she was going to run at me too, you know, for interfering or something. Anyway, I just held a hand up to her and told her that she was out of order. I guess I shouted. Anyway, next thing Fliss was in floods of tears and Amelia was all over her, comforting her. Suddenly I was the bad guy.” Richard seemed so unsure of himself and was looking at me, waiting for my reaction.

  “Good for you Richard. Bullies need standing up to. I can tell you that from experience. And Amelia standing up for her abuser? Textbook!” I said with a knowledgeable flourish. “It means that she can forget about her own humiliation for a while.” I was glad to see the relief on his face. “You let Amelia know that you were on her side. Just because she chose to ignore that doesn’t make it your fault.” I sighed. “Still, poor Amelia. I don’t like the girl, but nobody deserves that.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “Hey, did Fliss ever get violent with Hannah?” I blurted, showing every card in my detective pack right there.

  “No way. Hannah was too strong for that. She used to put Fliss in her place now and then. Fliss is the stereotypical bully, you know? Only picking on people she thinks won’t fight back. I suppose she put me into that category for a while.”

  “Until you shouted at her.” I said with a broad smile.

  I really despised Felicity Hardcastle and was shocked, but not entirely surprised, by her behaviour. And it still gave me pause for thought, however strong Rich Richard thought Hannah might be.

  If someone can turn violent over shoes, what else might they turn violent over? And how sure could Richard be that Fliss was totally in the dark about his little transgression?

  I smiled to myself, but only a little bit. I didn’t want Rich Richard to become aware of my silent a-ha moment. I mean, it’s not that I seriously thought Fliss had something to do with Hannah’s disappearance, it was simply that I could safely put her on my list of suspects.

  As I stared out into the brightly lit Dunmore Street, I wondered exactly who else was actually on my list of suspects. In truth, I didn’t really think I had a list, and I was just too tired to make one there and then.

  “Richard? I’m shattered.” I said, the sound of my tired little voice making me feel even worse.

  “I’ll give you a lift home.”

  As Richard started the car up, I had to quite literally bite my tongue to stop me from protesting. See, I had learned a lesson!

  “So, do you need to tell anyone about my fling with Hannah?” Richard asked as I directed him through Moss Park with nothing more than vague pointing.

  “No, I don’t think so.” I said, wondering if that was the right thing to do.

  With my brain turning the lights off in the disco, I was struggling a bit, but I gathered that Richard really hadn’t needed to tell me anything; he’d volunteered the information.

  It wasn’t like he was already a suspect. At least, not with the Police. I wasn’t quite sure if he was a suspect on my not-yet-up-and-running list, but I would ponder that one a bit later.

  “Oh, blue lights.” Richard said, somewhat vaguely.

  “What?” Straining to get my brain back into focus, I looked into the distance. We had turned onto my street and I had a horrible, gut-twisting feeling. “Richard, stop!” I said, rather vehemently.

  “Ok.” He pulled over and turned to look at me.

  “Alright, Richard. Looks like Mum’s home after all. Good thing I didn’t invite you round, huh?” I tried to sound amusing, but felt pretty tragic.

  And, forgive me if you will, but in that very moment, I hated my mother.

  “Are you sure it’s your place?” He said, trying to be helpful.

  “Yes.” I said, all my fight totally gone.

  “Hey, I can come with you if you’d like? Or go away if you’d like? Or you could just stay at my place? All totally up to you.” He added the last like a man who was expecting a repeat of my former bad manners and hyper-sensitivity.

  “Oh, that is nice of you, Richard.” And I really, honestly, meant it. “But I’d better go and have a look. If there’s any problems, I’ll just dart over to Liam’s place. It’s kind of what we….. well, it’s just what we’ve always done.”

  “Understood, Josie. Look. I could wait here and if you’re not back in ten I’ll go, but I could hover to see if you need a lift?”

  “It’s ok. It only takes me a few minutes to get to Liam’s. But listen, I really appreciate t
he thought.”

  “No problem.” He smiled. “What time are you in uni tomorrow?”

  “I’m not. I don’t have anything on Fridays. I mean, I usually go in, but I thought I’d get a good lay in and maybe see what I should do next, you know?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “I might be there, I might not.”

  “Well, if you are, ring me and I’ll meet you in the canteen or something.”

  “I will do, Richard. And thanks again for the lift.” I smiled and scooped up my bag.

  I pulled the door handle, only to discover that getting out was even more of a problem than getting in was. Without a word, Richard shot out of the car and pulled the passenger door open for me.

  “Night, Josie.” He said, before getting back in and getting ready to set off.

  “Night, Richard.” I said, before slowly dragging my tired and aching body up the street to see what sort of hell was being unleashed at my house.

  Chapter Ten

  Richard pulled away, tactfully doing a three-point turn and heading back the way he had come, rather than sailing slowly past my house for an eyeful. As I reluctantly made my way up the street, I felt my shoulders sag.

  Well, not just my shoulders, but my whole body. I’d had enough already and I wasn’t in the mood for my mum and her latest antics. I realise that there is a sort of innocent until proven guilty line of reasoning that I could have followed but, to be honest, I’d given up on that one years ago.

  Not with respect to everyone, don’t get me wrong; just my mum.

  As I got to within a hundred yards I could see two things clearly. One, my mum was waving her arms in a most aggressive manner at PC Betty Butler and two, by doing so she was, without a doubt, going to get herself arrested.

  Especially since she seemed to be holding a vodka bottle that she intermittently swigged from. Well, the sooner they took her away, the better, I was ready for bed.

  “Ah, there she is!” My mum shrieked when I came into view.

  “Hi Mum.” I said, dripping sarcasm.

  “Honestly! You do your best for them.” My mum began, slurring horribly and swaying as she fixed PC Betty with a look designed to gain the woman’s sympathy. “And this is how they repay you. God knows where she’s been and what she’s been up to, but does she care about me? Does she care that I’m here night after night worrying about her? And what with some young girl getting kidnapped too.” She took another swig, then looked pained and confused when she realised the bottle was empty.