“From everyone! They all fawned round her, and she loved it.”
“But did she seem to get on with anyone more than the others?”
“Yeah, there was some big-haired bloke in a stupid long coat. He looked like either he was an artist or a homeless man. Older than her though, not a really young bloke, you know?” I almost laughed; it had to be Matty Jameson. “He stuck out like a sore thumb in the Duchess, I can tell you.”
“And, anyone else?”
“No, I don’t think so.” She said, staring down thoughtfully at the great pile of pizza crusts which she clearly had no intention of eating. Seriously, the waste was making me feel a little bit sweaty. “Oh, hang on, there was someone else she used to natter to. A younger bloke. He was quite nice looking, what I remember of him. He had dark hair, maybe nineteen or twenty.”
“And he was interested in her?”
“No, I don’t think so. I got the feeling they didn’t get on too well. I saw him a couple of times and he seemed a bit annoyed.”
“Did you know why?”
“No. I don’t even know if he really was annoyed, it just sort of seemed like he was. Body language or what-have-you.”
“What did he look like apart from the dark hair? Would you recognise him again?”
“No, I didn’t really get a good look at him. Like I say, he only came in a couple of times. Not like the older one; he came in just about every Sunday that Hannah was on.” Kellie finished with an amused sneer.
“Was there anyone else? Did she ever arrange to meet up with anyone that she met in the Duchess?” It was such a long shot.
“Not that I know of. Hannah liked the attention, but she was way too snooty to actually fall in with anyone who went in the Duchess on a Sunday. Or any day.”
“So, I guess the two of you kind of made up your differences in the end. After all, she did work at your dad’s pub.”
“Yes and no. She would cosy up to me now and again, but mostly she let me know just how much better than me she was and always would be.”
“I think I got that myself from time to time.” I said, in solidarity.
“What did you think of her?” Kellie asked, and I was a little taken aback.
I was just wondering if there was any way I wouldn’t have to answer her, then I saw how intently she was eyeing me, and I knew I had to.
“Honestly, Kel, I didn’t like Hannah. Some of it was my own fault; my own hang-ups and insecurities about my fairly rough upbringing. But mostly, it was Hannah. She had a way of looking me up and down and she always had a one-liner designed to make me feel about this big.” I indicated a tiny gap between thumb and forefinger. “So, I guess we would never have been friends. Still, when I found her in that building, I couldn’t have been more sorry.”
“Really?” Kellie looked incredulous at first, then her face softened into something I couldn’t quite describe. “Even after she made you feel like crap?”
“Yeah. You see, I realised that nobody should have their life ended that way, even people I don’t particularly like. One day, Hannah might have grown out of the self-satisfied stuff; the entitlement and the spiteful attitude. But we’ll never know. She never got the chance, did she? And that’s really, really wrong.”
“You sound like a saint or something.” Kellie was smirk-sneering again.
“Far from it. I still don’t like Hannah Davenport. I just wish that she hadn’t been murdered.”
“I wouldn’t mind another coke.” Kellie’s countenance had returned to normal, and I reckoned I’d got about as much out of her as there was to get.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As I wandered away from Mama Mia’s, rattling the thirty-seven pence I had left in the whole world, I thought about all I had learned and where it might get me.
The question of Hannah’s rebellion had finally been answered. She had wanted to devastate her parents by acting in much the same way as they had done in their own youth.
To be honest, I’m not really sure how stuff like that works. How do you really punish someone by acting in the same way as they did?
Obviously, as a psychologist, I would make an exceptional window cleaner but, at the same time, I still wondered if Hannah’s reaction to the revelations had been strictly normal.
I hate the fact that my mum was a stripper, so I’m going to be one too. That way, I can very much register my distaste and disappointment. Mmmm.
I too have moments of sweeping disappointment in my own parent, but acting just like her couldn’t be further from my mind. Maybe I’m just too simplistic?
Maybe I lack the necessary layers to be a truly complicated human being? I mulled that over for a while and, in the end, I had to admit that it seemed quite likely. No doubt Liam would understand it all.
As I made for the bus stop, I switched my phone from silent mode. As I’d been in Mama Mia’s, Liam had sent me two messages.
“Dude, we’ve snuck out and gone to Rich Richard’s place to watch films. Rich says to come over when you’re done. Hurry up, I want to know what you’ve found out.”
I was just about to wonder exactly how I would get to Rich Richard’s place when I had no idea where it was, when I saw text number two.
“Oh yeah, he’s at 26 Kenton Gardens. Google it. Lx”
So, I googled it. It was just one bus ride out of town and a short walk. Thank God for bus passes!
As the bus rumbled its way along the quiet Sunday streets, the dusk of early evening was falling. I hoped I’d be able to get to Rich Richard’s place before it was dark, since I’d be less inclined to get lost or knock the wrong door.
I looked down at my clothing, hoping that my old duffle coat, jeans and plimsoles would pass muster at the front door of 26 Kenton Gardens.
Still, if they’d let Liam into the house, then I was hardly likely to come as a shock to the Allencourt family. At least I hoped not.
In the event, I was not at all shocking. And why would I be? Mrs Allencourt was just lovely. She was a bit older than my own mum, and a lot nicer to strangers.
She was clearly expecting me and pulled the door back wide for me to enter before I’d even spoken.
“Hi. You must be Josie. Come in, love, they’re upstairs in Richard’s room. Just follow the noise.”
“Hi Mrs Allencourt.” I said, smiling brightly.
In the right circumstances, I could be very appealing to other people’s parents.
“Do you want a drink to take up?”
“Oh, yes please.” I said, partly not wanting one, because I would have to hold it together with Richard’s mum long enough for her to make it for me.
“Tea or coffee? Or coke?” She said, wandering away towards the kitchen.
“Tea please, Mrs Allencourt.” I said, and followed along behind her.
We went in through the already open door into what might well have been the most untidy and shambolic kitchen I’d ever seen in my life.
There was loads of really nice stuff, like a coffee maker and one of those instant boiling water things which made kettles a thing of the past, but everywhere seemed crammed with stuff.
There were multi bags of crisps spilling out across the counter and a chopping board covered with crumbs. The fact that Rich Richard’s mum was not a happy house-worker kind of made me relax a little bit.
“Have you eaten?” She asked, and seemed genuinely prepared to feed me. I just hoped Liam hadn’t taken liberties with that question. He was a total pig at times.
“I’ve just had a pizza, thanks, Mrs Allencourt.”
“Oh, call me Sheila.” She said, and I watched in happy amazement as she made me a cup of tea without having to boil the kettle. So cool. So very cool.
“Sheila.” I said, a bit experimentally. I sometimes forget that I am an adult. Well, technically, you know?
“Well, take some crisps up with you.” And with that, she thrust the multi bag at me. “No doubt the boys will be hungry again.”
“Thanks.” I
said, smiling as she thrust the mug into my free hand.
“Richard speaks very highly of you, Josie.” She was smiling so enthusiastically at me that I couldn’t help but smile back. “He says you’re so clever that if anyone can solve the case, it’s you.”
“Oh, that was nice of him. I’m not sure it’s true, exactly.” I felt quite glowy.
It was a nice feeling. It was also nice to meet a mum who was interested in the goings-on in her offspring’s life. I couldn’t imagine telling my mum all the ins and outs of the investigation. She wouldn’t be a bit interested.
By the time I got upstairs, whatever film Liam and Richard had been watching had come to an end.
Liam looked totally content for a man on police bail on suspicion of murder. The film and the new friend had taken his mind of it for a while, and I was so, so pleased about that.
“Dude, what are you doing with all those crisps?” Liam said, eyeing the huge multi bag.
“Oh, you know, I was just peckish.”
“Funny, Dude. Very funny.” Liam said, nodding in appreciation of what he thought was great humour.
“So, what happened?” Richard pointed to the bed. “Have a seat.” I put my tea down and shrugged off my duffle before making myself comfortable enough to tell the tale.
I was no longer surprised to see that Richard took after his mum in terms of disorganization and untidiness.
It had never occurred to me that posh people could be messy. I must admit, I quite liked it. It narrowed what had been a chasm of a gap into something more like a slither.
I told my appreciative audience the whole thing, and got many oohs and ahhs along the way as each revelation unfolded.
“I wonder who the younger bloke was?” Liam said, seeming to cling to what he thought was a new lead.
“No idea, unfortunately. Just that he was younger and dark haired. That’s it.” I said, shrugging.
“That could be you.” Richard said to Liam, laughing.
“Oh God, it could. Best not tell DI Thorn, or he’ll bring back hanging.” Liam grinned.
He really was the most resilient person on earth. I knew just how awful he had felt the previous night, and yet he had done everything in his power to get back on his feet again. Indestructible little donkey-brain.
“And the other guy just has to be Matty Jameson.” Richard said, thoughtfully.
“Yes, without a doubt. But I was surprised that Kellie said he was such a regular. He really gave me the impression that he wasn’t. He more or less said he went in to study the female form for his art work.” Both Liam and Richard burst out laughing.
“Yes, alright!” I said, laughing too. “I didn’t buy it either, but I did believe that it wasn’t a big thing with him. A big pastime, you know?”
“Maybe he lied?” Liam said.
“Maybe he was just embarrassed?” Richard added.
“Well, I guess he stays on the list. With interest.” I said, wondering if I’d got the man so very wrong.
Richard put on another film, but all three of us talked over the entire thing with theories and suspects. In the end, it seemed as if we were all at a loss as to what to do next. Where else was there to look?
By the end of the evening, I felt a little flat. Richard seemed to mirror my sentiments, and Liam did a really good job of appearing to be fine with it all.
By ten o’clock, we left Richard’s place. Richard planned to see Liam’s lecturer’s the next day and collect whatever study notes Liam had missed. Liam was so touched; he went kind of quiet for a few minutes.
Still, once he had regained his equanimity, he arranged to meet Richard in town at around half ten. I was getting more and more pleased by their friendship. It was exactly what Liam needed right then.
Our journey home was all but silent, and Liam didn’t really speak until we were walking back through Moss Park. He had a hat, hood, scarf and balaclava type of a thing all wrapped about his head in an attempt to conceal his identity.
“I hope nobody recognises me.” His muffled voice drifted out through several layers of wool.
“I doubt it. They’ll just think you’re a mugger.” I laughed.
“Dude, what if this is it? What if we never find out who killed Hannah?”
“That doesn’t mean you’ll be charged with it. They have no evidence against you.”
“That’s kind of not my point.”
“Oh?”
“Even if I don’t get charged with murder, I’ll always be under suspicion if the real killer is never caught.” He stopped for a moment, looking around. “I’ll always be hiding, won’t I?”
“No, you won’t.” I said, with grim determination. “Because I’m going to find the killer if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Thanks Dude.” Liam said, so quietly, I almost didn’t hear him.
“No probs.” I said, and took his gloved hand in my mittened one.
“Dude, don’t you find these hard to wear?” Liam’s woollen head nodded down at my mittens. “I mean, it’s like having just one big finger and a thumb. It’s kind of mutanty, Dude.”
As I’ve said before, Liam has a really short attention span.
As we got closer to my house, we slowed down a little and became very much more aware.
“No sign of any press outside. I guess your house is still a safe one.” Liam said, seeming greatly relieved.
“You speak too soon, my friend.” I said, on the wave of a great sigh. I could see lights on in my house.
“Why?” Liam asked, and I just pointed at the brightly lit windows in response. “Oh, Dude, they broke in!”
“No, Liam! It will be my mum.”
“But she’s breaking her bail conditions.”
“Like she’d care, Liam.”
“You could call the police. They’d lock her up for that, especially since it’s domestic violence related.”
“But it will cause a big scene. If there’s any press on the estate, they’ll be here in a heartbeat.”
“Good thinking.” Liam said, sounding hunted. “But now we’ve nowhere to go.”
“Let’s try your place. We’ll sneak through the alleys and go in through the back garden.”
“Yeah, come on, Dude. It’s worth a go.
In the event, the mainstream media of the United Kingdom were not outside Liam’s place.
We’d managed to canter through some of the shadiest alleyways in the country, if not the world, and, after a couple of fences which I scaled without any hint of grace or skill, we were in Liam’s back garden.
We hovered for a bit, barely daring to breathe lest we alert anyone to our presence. In the end, we just went in through the kitchen door.
As always, Mrs Attwood was parked up at the kitchen table, staring miserably at the small television on the worktop.
“Hi mum.” Liam said, cheerfully. He bent down to kiss the top of her head.
“Hi Liam.” She said, really vaguely. “Hi Josie.” And that was it.
No concern for the bright young son who had been to hell and back in the last few days. No outrage for the fact he had been arrested and detained for a really horrible crime which he had not committed. Nothing.
I thought of Sheila Allencourt. She was practically a stranger to us both, yet she had shown more interest in our lives in ten seconds than either one of our mothers had in a lifetime.
And still, Liam kissed the top of her head. Still he loved her. I probably loved my mum too, somewhere deep down. Very deep down. Instigating her arrest for Affray notwithstanding.
“We’re gonna go up, mum.” Liam said, after grabbing some snacks.
“Ok.” She barely lifted her eyes from the telly.
In that moment, I nearly cried. Why didn’t Liam and I have mums like Sheila Allencourt or Betty Butler? Why was it that we would go through life not knowing what family life was really like, even for just a day?
“Come on, Dude. I’m knackered.” Liam said, tugging at the sleeve of my duffle coat
.
Like a true gent, Liam took the floor and let me have the bed. We were settled down in no time, and I realised that I was truly shattered.
I felt guilty about Liam sleeping on the floor for a second night running. There was room for both of us on the bed, and we were good enough friends for it not to be weird.
I could hear him crunching away on his crisps as he watched YouTube clips of people falling over on his phone, giggling like a fool.
I just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how the hell I was going to keep to my promise of finding Hannah’s killer if it was the last thing I did. Poor Liam.
I would have done just about anything to clear his name and ensure a happy future for him.
As I was about to tell him that there was room enough on the bed for us both, I heard the first of what turned out to be an entire night’s worth of loud snores. Liam had gone out cold.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Liam woke me really early the next morning. I was suffering from that slightly scared confusion you get when you wake up somewhere you weren’t expecting to be. When he prodded at my shoulder, I yelled.
“Seriously, Dude! What’s up with you?” Liam’s face loomed down, just inches from mine.
“Do that to yourself in the mirror one day, and you’ll have your answer.” I said, squinting at him.
“I’m going to set off now.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s only half-seven, but I want to get off the estate before it gets light.”
“Liam, you’re not meeting Richard for ages.”
“I’m just going to hover about in town until he meets me. I don’t want to risk being seen here.”
“The press have gone.”
“Maybe. But the neighbours haven’t. You know what some of them can be like. They won’t need evidence to find me guilty, will they?”
I sat up in bed. Liam was absolutely right. It sort of strikes me that the vast majority of humanity fits into the there’s no smoke without fire, the boyfriend must have done it category.
The Girlfriend: A Josie Cloverfield Detective Novel Page 24
