‘What did they find?’ Dad’s voice is hoarse.
I want to know. I don’t want to know.
DI Peters looks down at the sheet of paper in his hand. ‘A woman’s scarf,’ he reads, ‘A large quantity of photographs and two items of women’s jewellery.’
‘Where did you find all this? Was it hidden?’ I suddenly need to know. I searched that house and found nothing.
‘The scarf was hanging on a peg in the hallway and the other items were found in the loft. The loft walls had been used as a sort of makeshift gallery and the photographs were pasted onto the plasterboard cladding. No attempt had been made to hide the photographs or the jewellery.’
Dad and I look at each other in shock.
‘The photographs,’ DI Peters continues, ‘Were mostly of the late Mrs Sparkes and one other as yet, unidentified woman although there were several of you, Josie. The photographs all appeared to have been taken using a mobile phone and without the subject’s knowledge, probably when there were going about their normal, daily business.’
I feel sick. I steel a look at Dad and he looks ashen. We knew he was the stalker, but photographs?
DI Peter’s hands over two plastic evidence bags, ‘Do you recognise either of these items?’
Dad takes the bags and we stare at them much longer than necessary. There’s a silver coloured charm type bracelet and a small oval locket with a broken chain. Neither of them is Mum’s. Where did Adam get them from? Who did he get them from?
‘No.’ Dad says with relief, handing the bags back. ‘I don’t recognise them.’
‘Josie?’ asked DI Peters.
‘No. I don’t recognise them either. They’re not mine or Mum’s.’
‘Thank you,’ DI Peters tucks them back inside the cardboard folder. ‘We’ve put out an alert to ascertain the whereabouts of Adam Borden and this has been extended to other forces throughout the country. He doesn’t have his passport with him so we’re confident that we’ll have him in custody before very long.’
‘I hope so,’ says Dad. ‘Because you haven’t caught him yet, have you? Even if you do, he’ll probably get off with a slap on the wrist and a fine,’ Dad says gloomily.
DI Peters clears his throat.
‘I’m afraid that’s not all that we’ve discovered about Adam Borden.’
Dad and I look at DI Peters in alarm.
‘What? What have you discovered?’
‘In view of recent developments, we decided to review the CCTV footage taken at the tube station on the day of your wife’s death.’
An unfathomable look passes between DI Peters and WPC Roper and I suddenly don’t want to hear what he has to say; what I know he’s going to say. I want to clap my hands over my ears and pretend none of this is happening.
‘Amongst the people on the platform – and there were a great many people waiting that day, we’ve clearly identified that Adam Borden was present at the time of your wife’s death. Now, please don’t jump to conclusions because this doesn’t mean that he was involved in your wife’s death. We have to investigate all avenues and we wouldn’t be doing our jobs properly if we didn’t consider the fact that Adam Borden was there.’
‘He could have pushed her,’ Dad’s in shock and his voice comes out in a whisper. ‘Why else would he be there?’
‘Please, Mr Sparkes, don’t jump to conclusions. He was stalking your wife but we’ve no reason to suspect that he’s violent. He followed her and watched her and it may well be that’s all he was doing but we need to investigate further to be sure.’
Dad shakes his head.
‘No. I know. That bastard killed her. He pushed her.’
Chapter 30
Josie
W e’re going on holiday.
Dad and I are going to Spain to stay with Nanny and Grandad. It’s the first time we’ll have been to visit them since Mum died although they’ve asked us loads of times. We couldn’t face going without Mum but we have to move on now, lay the ghosts I think they call it.
We’re going next week which means I’ll be taking some time off from college but to be honest it’s not like it’ll affect my exams; it’s not as if I need to swot up or anything. I’m not going to panic and go blank this time either because I feel quite chilled about it. With everything else that’s happened since I last took them, I can’t understand why I got in such a state last time.
Dad has booked the flights but he’s only booked them one way. He says we might fancy staying a bit longer than a couple of weeks and he’s got lots of holidays to use up so why not? See how we feel is what he said.
He’s not fooling me though, I know the real reason he wants to go; he won’t be happy until Adam is tracked down and locked up so he can’t get anywhere near me. He’s got it into his head that Adam murdered Mum even though the police haven’t any evidence that he did, although they’re still looking into it. So far, they’re saying that it wasn’t anything but a tragic accident but Dad doesn’t agree and says it could be the perfect murder. Dad says it would be impossible to prove unless he was caught on camera, which he wasn’t, and someone would have seen him if he pushed her.
Me and Dad have had such long talks about it all; at least he’s not bottling things up now and nor am I. Dad says stalking is a classic cycle – first there’s attraction which if not returned soon turns to obsession and then the last stage is destruction. Or murder. It doesn’t always end like that though does it? Not every stalker is a murderer. I’ve done a bit of Googling too and it’s very rare for a stalker to turn into a murderer. Adam stalked the tutor at college and he didn’t murder her, did he? I think Dad’s just getting a bit carried away.
He wants someone to blame for Mum’s death.
I don’t think for one minute that Adam had anything to do with Mum’s death. It doesn’t make sense for him to have killed her – he was obsessed with her but he loved her in his own twisted way. I know he stalked her and that was so wrong but I’m sure he didn’t have anything to do with her death and I can’t bring myself to be afraid of him. But I will be glad when he’s caught because he needs help.
Dad can never forgive him for what he put Mum and us through but once I’d recovered from the shock, I felt surprisingly alright. I’ve amazed myself. I’ve gone over those counselling sessions a million times in my head, analysing them to see if I should have guessed, if I was a gullible fool.
Maybe if I hadn’t had a massive crush on him, I would have been suspicious – or would I? I had no reason to doubt him, I thought he was a counsellor and never having seen a counsellor before I had nothing to compare him with. And anyway, you can’t go through life suspecting everyone and everything.
Well you can, but I don’t intend to.
So, I’m going along with the holiday thing because I want Dad to stop fretting. I want to see the frown marks between his eyebrows disappear and I want my old, jolly Dad back, the one who always looks on the bright side and does mental things like wear swimming goggles to chop onions. I also want to see Nanny and Grandad again because it’s ages since we’ve seen them and I’ve missed them. And they’re so excited that we’re going because they’ve missed us too. I know it’s going to be hard for all of us without Mum there but we’ll get through it. We have to.
We haven’t told them about the Adam business; no point in them worrying and being upset as well. They’re still coming to terms with Mum’s death and I can’t bear to put them through any more pain, and what would it gain by telling them? Absolutely nothing. Once we’re on that flight the agreement is that we don’t mention him or any of it, we’ll be like, it never happened.
I’ll miss Biro and Ellie but they’ll still going to be here when I get back. We’re friends and they’re not going to stop being my friends just because I’ve been on holiday for a while, are they? Biro is looking after Skipper while we’re away; apparently his Mum really wants a dog but his dad Charlie says it’s not practical. Biro says she thinks having Skipper for a while will g
et his dad used to the idea and he’ll give in and they’ll get one.
I have a feeling that Ellie and Biro might be more than friends by the time I come back, although they both try to make out they don’t know what I’m talking about whenever I mention it.
We’ll see.
So. Mum. If you’re looking down from wherever you are; don’t worry.
We miss you like mad and we always will.
But we’re going to be okay.
Chapter 31
Adam
S talker.
That was what hurt the most; when Josie called me a stalker. I knew then that there was no going back. I’ve seen that look before and it never ends well. My parents gave me that look many times; they dressed it up with we only want to help or we’re trying to understand you but they couldn’t hide it; the disgust.
And when that lanky idiot friend of hers jumped out from behind the cupboard and started on about the police and recording me and all that bollocks, well I knew then that it really was all over.
So here I am; can’t go home because my slimy landlord is showing the police around my house – the house I pay over the top rent for because I couldn’t get a reference and apparently, I can’t do a thing about it. It was sheer luck that I was out when they arrived although I wish I’d been prepared. I wish I had more than the clothes I’m standing up in. And they’ll find my keepsakes and my photographs and make it dirty and criminal and I can never go back there now.
Didn’t I help Josie? Yes, I did. She was in a right mess when I found her and now she’s a different person, all fixed.
Because of me.
I might not be a counsellor but I helped her so what’s the difference? My intentions were good; when I saw her name, I wanted to help her, for Nessa’s sake. Although when I first met Josie it was a bit of a shock – I never considered how much she would look like Nessa.
But it’s all ruined now; Josie and I had something real and we could have been happy together but she had to go and ruin it and now she looks at me the way everyone else does and it’s too late .
I’m a good-looking guy and I never have any trouble getting a date but other people just see it all wrong , they don’t understand.
Nessa was the one . The first time I saw her she took my breath away.
So beautiful.
And that smile. She looked over at me and smiled and said goodnight and that was it; love at first sight. We both felt it, I could see it in her eyes. I’d hated temping at Straitleys but meeting Nessa changed that. I even used to get into work early to make sure I was there when she arrived. I begged to stay when the woman I was covering for came back from maternity leave, but there wasn’t a vacancy and so I had to leave. I so missed seeing Nessa every day.
If it hadn’t been for him things would have been so different; she felt sorry for him because he was old and past it and Nessa was so sweet and loyal. She should have been more selfish.
It was only a matter of time before we would have been together properly and then we wouldn’t have to use our secret signals to tell each other our deepest feelings. I can only imagine how happy she felt when she opened my birthday card; I was there that day, watching from across the road behind a parked van. I saw them all leave the house and go out celebrate her birthday and I knew that she was only pretending to enjoy it for their sakes.
I should have been taking her out; I should have been the one giving her presents. We were biding our time; waiting for the right moment for Nessa to leave him.
Nessa would still be here now if it wasn’t for him .
When Nessa and I were properly together I would’ve looked after her and she’d have been safe . She wouldn’t have needed to work and see other people, we’d have each other and that would be enough. More than enough.
If she’d been with me, she’d still be here and I can’t forgive him for that; it’s his fault Nessa’s gone.
I would have kept Josie safe, too.
But not now.
It’s too late now.
So here I am; standing on Frogly-by-Sea’s run-down pier in the driving rain and I can never go home because the police will never understand.
The sky is dark grey and I’m soaking wet and as I gaze out at the grey swirling sea, I remember the look on Nessa’s face the last time I saw her.
And I wish I could forget.
I’d followed her to the station that morning, as I usually did, because I was looking after her. But that day I’d decided; enough was enough and she had to leave him and start her new life with me and start putting us first.
I was standing a few feet behind her, rehearsing the speech in my head that was going to make her see sense. Nessa was at the front, near the platform, doing her usual thing of pretending that she didn’t know I was there. We had this telepathic thing you know; she knew I was there even though she hadn’t seen me and she started looking around her like she always did because she couldn’t stop herself from trying to find me.
And then the person in front of me moved slightly and she saw me and our eyes locked; her eyes widened and her mouth opened in an oh expression. And I couldn’t help myself; I smiled at her, our special secret smile. She looked away then as if she hadn’t seen me; playing our game of pretending we were strangers. She took her scarf off for some reason, I don’t know why and then she turned back and looked at me again but she wasn’t smiling. Something had frightened her; I could see it in her eyes. She turned away and the next thing I knew she stumbled and fell forward.
I can’t think about it.
I can’t bear to.
Blue and pink swirls. Robins.
I didn’t even realise that I had it until I returned home. I have no memory of picking up her scarf or of leaving the station; no recollection of how I got home. I was in such a state of shock that I lay curled up on the floor of the lounge all day and through the night; stricken with grief and unable to move.
How did I carry on?
I have no idea; life was unbearable without Nessa but somehow, I got through the days. Meeting Josie was fate, it was meant to be.
But now she hates me, just like everyone else.
My hands are wet and cold and the wind is whipping freezing rain into my face and I can hear someone shouting.
‘Hey! Are you okay?’
I turn my head and six feet behind me there’s a woman huddled in a quilted coat clutching the lead of a bedraggled Yorkshire terrier.
I stare at her for a moment and wonder what she wants.
‘Are you okay?’ she shouts, ‘Can I help? You’re very close to the edge.’
I look down at my feet and see that I’m on the outside of the pier railings; the tips of my shoes are suspended over the swirling waves and my hands are clutching the railing behind me.
‘Climb back over the railing. Nothing’s that bad, we can talk about it, maybe I can help.’
I look at her and smile and she stares at me in surprise. If only she knew how many times I’ve heard those same words.
And I realise that there is a way to be with Nessa again; it’s so blindingly simple I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.
I close my eyes and jump.
Epilogue
‘W ho found him?’
‘Dog walker. He’s waiting in the cafe.’ PC Harris looked up at the bright blue painted window frames of the Seadog Cafe. Sitting in front of the car park on the promenade he wondered why they even bothered opening on a day like today. The ice cream shop next door was shuttered for the winter and he couldn’t imagine they did much trade.
They were just shutting up shop for the day but the finding of a body made for good business. They’d served a handful of people all day but now every table was full.
The on-call police doctor squatted down on his haunches and studied the body. He pulled his coat around him as a light rain began to fall and the wind picked up speed. Seagulls wheeled and squawked as the sky darkened.
‘How long do you think he�
�s been in the sea?’ Harris asked, frowning; the sooner they could get the body moved, the better. A small crowd of people had gathered on the promenade and he could see some of them holding mobile phones aloft.
‘Hard to say until I’ve examined him but I’m guessing not long. The fishes haven’t started eating him and the clothes are in fairly good condition so I’d say a couple of days at the most. Any mispers match his description?’
‘Not checked yet, the description’s too broad. Be helpful if he had ID on him.’ PC Harris could have looked before the doctor got here but there was no way he was touching a dead body. He shivered at the thought.
Dr Robertson tugged the zipper down on the leather jacket; the zipper jerked and snagged but once the jacket was open, he reached inside. Feeling around the lining of the jacket he felt for an inside pocket and finding it, pulled out a brown, water-bloated wallet. He stood up and handed it to Harris who took it and held it between his fingers and carefully peeled it open. He pulled out a card and squinted as he read it.
‘Driving licence says Adam Borden, lived in Frogham.’
‘Frogham? That’s what, thirty miles away?’
‘Yeah, about that.’ Harris pulled an evidence bag from his pocket and dropped the wallet and card into it and sealed it. ‘Which is a good thing, we can leave it to the local plod to tell the family. Can’t stand those death visits.’
Dr Robertson directed his level gaze at the constable. ‘Every cloud, eh?’ he said sarcastically.
Harris looked puzzled, not sure if he was being got at.
‘Do you want to see if the screens have arrived, constable? Or do you want me to conduct an examination with an audience watching?’ Dr Robertson indicated the gathering crowd.
‘Yes, sir, of course. I’ll see to it.’ Harris turned and tramped off across the beach cursing his misfortune. Why did the dog walker have to catch him just as he was about to go off shift? He pulled his hat down over his eyes, but it offered little protection against the rain which was getting heavier by the minute.
So Talk to Me Page 19
