Holly raised an eyebrow. ‘You know about the arts centre?’
Flustered, and not wanting to mention that I’d even seen Morag, I said, ‘Yeah, of course. Someone here told me about it. I guess I should call it the manor house, because it never actually became an arts centre, did it?’
‘It was going to be Mum’s place,’ Miranda said. Suddenly, her voice was thick with emotion. ‘It’s why everyone hates us, you know? It was supposed to be Mum’s legacy.’
‘The police must have looked there already, surely,’ Holly said.
‘I don’t think they’ve done much at all,’ I said. ‘Susan Williams is completely on her own. I think we should try it. It’s not far from the caves, is it?’
‘No. There’s a footpath that goes up over the hill. It’s about a fifteen-minute walk.’
‘So Jasmine could easily have taken shelter there? Imagine how happy your dad will be if you find her,’ I said to Holly.
‘And how miserable I’ll be if we do,’ said Miranda.
I stared at her. ‘You really can’t mean that? When are you going to admit that Lewis told you he was planning to kill her?’
‘Failed at everything, didn’t he, my brother?’
It was the closest she had come to admitting that I hadn’t invented the conversation.
Holly didn’t seem to have noticed. She was chewing her bottom lip, looking anxious.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘I don’t like going there, that’s all. It brings back bad memories.’
‘I really think it’s worth looking, though. Come on. Please.’ I leaned in and spoke quietly into her ear. ‘Don’t react. But there’s something I urgently need to tell you.’
Her eyes widened, and I took her hand, trying to lead her towards the Jeep, which was parked a little way along the road.
But if I’d thought we could shake off Miranda easily, I was mistaken.
‘I’m looking forward to this,’ Miranda said, following us. ‘I haven’t been to the arts centre since Mum died. And if that bitch is there I’m going to get it out of her. Why she killed my brother.’
33
2006
Miranda
As far as Miranda was concerned, this kid Jimmy and his emo sister Morag sounded like a pair of immature idiots. Worse: druggie idiots with deluded dreams. As if they were actually going to go on to be famous siblings, a writer and a rock star. Lewis had more chance of making it big with his poetry.
Mum had more chance of recovering from her sickness.
‘He’s a really good guitar player,’ Holly had said, gushing about him when she and Lewis came home last night, 30 December. After that they’d gone on about this Jimmy kid for an hour, telling Miranda they were planning to spend New Year’s Eve with him and Morag.
‘Morag said Jimmy has got the best weed in Scotland,’ Lewis said. ‘We’re going to hang out in the caves. Build a fire. Jimmy is going to bring his guitar, play some tunes. You should come with us.’
‘Why would I want to hang out with a group of children, listening to somebusker?’
‘Suit yourself, sis.’ Lewis chuckled.
‘Listen,’ Holly said. ‘We know you think it’s lame aroundhere, but you really ought to come along. You deserve some fun.’
Miranda had rounded on them. ‘Somebody has to stay here and keep Mum company. I think it’s disgusting, actually. That you two are planning to go out and get wasted with your loser friends while our mother is lying in that room, too sick to do anything.’
‘She told me she wants us to go out and have fun,’ Lewis said.
