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How easily she said his name.
‘He’s a nice man,’ I said. ‘He’s nice to everyone – it’s just what he’s like.’ I knew that my smile reached nowhere near my eyes.
‘Don’t suppose you fancy a coffee?’ Ingrid squinted into the low sun, put her hand up to shield her eyes. The rain thickened.
‘Sorry, love.’ I looked up, wondered if there’d be a rainbow in a bit. Or a storm. ‘I’ve got to get to work.’
‘Another time then.’
‘Sure. Good luck with your interview.’
‘Thanks, Rachel.’ Her smiled faltered. Hers hadn’t reached her eyes either. ‘Are you all right? You look a bit…’
‘I’m fine, love. Just need to crack on, that’s all.’ I turned away. The sight of her all thin and wan and not moving a muscle despite the thickening rain was getting on my nerves. What was she, waterproof?
Two minutes later, cagoule on, I dashed for the car. Ingrid was gone. As was the sun. The sky had committed and the decision was rain, no rainbow today. The clouds were smudged charcoal, like one of Kieron’s sketches. I made a mental note to take some to the framers, sent him a quick text to say I’d be doing that this week before setting off, eyes focused on the road, wipers going nineteen to the dozen. I was breathing funny, my head throbbing. Jo in her too-big coat, her fingertips pinched at her forehead; Jo laughing as she pulled me over the railings; Jo bleeding out on the pavement, mistaken for a heap of rubbish in the night. She was still alive, thank God. But she had been stabbed. There was a sharp knife in my bag. But where was the blood? I pulled into the car park by the canal, a full-on wave of panic rolling into my chest. A buzzing of bees, a terrible static. I switched off the engine, pushed my forehead against the steering wheel. I was shaking, crying, everything cold and in flames. I gripped the steering wheel with both hands, tried to get my breathing under control.
‘Poor sweet girl,’ I whispered. ‘Poor, poor sweet girl.’
I knew I should call the police and tell them what I knew. But I didn’t.
16
Lisa
Transcript of recorded interview with Lisa Baxter (excerpt)
Also present: DI Heather Scott, PC Marilyn Button
HS: Ms Baxter, can you remember where you were on the night of the attack on Joanna Weatherall? The evening of Saturday the twenty-ninth of June?
LB: I’ve looked at my calendar and I haven’t got anything marked down. My life is pretty empty just at the minute. My girls are at uni and my husband left me. I mean, it was almost two years ago now, but I’m not really the dating type. Patrick, my ex, always said I was too gobby. He said I put men off, said they didn’t like women to be funnier than them. Mark was never bothered. He used to laugh at my jokes almost more than Rachel. But then Mark’s a great bloke. They were such a close family. They always had a good time together, do you know what I mean? Always throwing barbecues in their back garden, Sunday roasts, what have you. And they were great with Kieron when he came out, just great. Him and Rachel were always up in Liverpool shopping or seeing films or down the library – book nuts the pair of them. They used to lie top to tail on the couch reading and you couldn’t get a word out of either of them.
HS: Ms Baxter. So you can’t remember where you were that night?
LB: Sorry, no. But I’d remember if I’d tried to stab someone, wouldn’t I? And I’d tell you now if Rachel had turned up at ours with blood all over her. I can’t protect her, can I? She’s turned herself in.
HS: Did you have any contact with Rachel Edwards that Saturday?
LB: I think I saw her a couple of days before. She turned up quite early in the morning with the dog. Actually, it was the Sunday, the previous Sunday. We’ve talked about that, haven’t we?
HS: And how would you describe her state of mind?
LB: She was… she was unsettled, I suppose, but I don’t know if I saw it at the time or whether I’m seeing it now, with hindsight.
HS: Unsettled in what way?
LB: I think she thought something weird was happening to her, but as I say, I just thought we were talking about the change. She used to be a real looker back in the day, so maybe it was harder for her. I was always the mate, do you know what I mean? In her shadow sort of thing. But she’d let herself go this last year, which, I mean, I’m not judging, I’m not criticising at all – it’s completely understandable.
HS: Was she unhappy in her marriage?
LB: (Pause) It was a bad patch. Mark’s not the type to send flowers or whisk a girl off her feet, but he’s a good bloke, do you know what I mean? We used to tease him when he first got together with Rach because all the lads were after her. But she chose him because he wasn’t after her for the same reasons. He saw her, if you know what I mean. Didn’t just see the face and the figure and all that. He saw who she was and that’s what she wanted, to be seen like that. But any sign of emotional turmoil and he’s like most men, rabbit in the headlights. Back when she was ill, it was me that told him she needed to go to hospital. He was a bit hopeless, like.
HS: And would you have said he was equally perturbed in recent months, given her behaviour?
LB: We were both worried. But I didn’t know she was printing off all these knife crimes until he told me. We should have acted sooner. I never thought… never imagined… well, you don’t, do you? How can anyone imagine anything like this?
17
