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FRIDAY
Nicole
Nicole watches the man sitting on the sunbed opposite hers. His face is lit blue by the pool lights. She sees something in him that makes her feel sad. She no longer feels afraid of him.
He says, ‘It was a man I saw. He was tall and thin, with round glasses.’
‘Olly,’ she says. ‘Oh my God. Did you talk to him?’
‘I didn’t want him to see me. Your husband was the first person to give me the benefit of the doubt in a long time. I know what most people think of me when they meet me. And I thought your husband was safe because he was on the sunbed, and he clearly knew the visitor. I promise I thought it was okay to leave. I haven’t been able to sleep thinking that perhaps I left him with the person who killed him.’
‘What’s your name?’ Nicole asks.
‘I’d rather not say.’
‘I need to tell the police what you’ve said, but how will I make them believe me if I don’t know your name?’
He looks agitated. ‘Just say that I came to see you.’
‘I have no proof you exist. They could accuse me of making it up.’
‘You’re the widow. They’ll believe you.’
‘Being the widow makes me a suspect, too, doesn’t it?’
He stands. He’s going to leave. ‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’
‘Is this true? Or are you making it up to get the money? How long have you been at Lancaut, watching us?’
‘I’m not making it up. You recognised him from my description. I haven’t been watching you and I haven’t asked you for any money.’
‘You might have seen him here before.’
‘I’m not making it up, I promise you. I could have stayed away. I don’t have to be here.’
‘But ten grand makes it very tempting to be here, I imagine.’
He looks at his feet. ‘Obviously, I need money, but I swear I’m telling you the truth. The money isn’t why I came.’
‘But you won’t give me your name or speak to the police yourself?’
‘I can’t. I’m sorry. I really am, but I can’t have contact with the police.’
She sees how nervous he is, eyes darting, hands that are never still. This is more than being afraid that he’ll be falsely accused of Tom’s murder, she thinks.
‘What do the police want you for?’ she asks.
‘I don’t know if they do. But I stalked someone at university. Another student. I didn’t do anything bad to her, I just wrote toher, and once I took some stuff from her room, but nothing valuable. I don’t want to get into trouble. I’m not well when I’m in the world. But I’m mostly okay out here. I keep away from people. It’s why I feel so bad about getting in a row with your husband. I wasn’t myself that day. But I can’t give you my name. I can’t get messed up with the authorities.’
‘What about your family? Do they know you’re living rough? How old are you?’ He looks young, she thinks, beneath the stubble and the dirt. He’s just a kid.
‘Look, I’m sorry he died, your husband. He was trying to be nice to me that day. I could tell he was a good man. I wish I hadn’t made his day worse.’ He steps back into the shadows.
‘He was a good man,’ she says. I believe this person, she thinks. I do. The pool water glimmers darkly in front of her. ‘How did he seem unwell?’ she asks.
‘He said he banged his head. He seemed a bit disoriented.’
Tom, she thinks. I should have been there for you. ‘How did he hurt his head? Did he say anything about that?’
