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His phone rings once more. The receptionist says, ‘It’s Anna Creed again.’
He swears then apologises. ‘Take a message, please,’ he instructs and hangs up. He manages to focus on his phone just long enough to call an Uber to take him home because he can’t drive himself like this, but he needs to sleep off this migraine. There’s no other way through it. As he waits for the car hesquints, attempting to minimise his warped vision. His head aches and he knows that the pain will morph into something much more severe very soon.
He tries calling Jen, to run this by her, but she doesn’t answer. He gets a notification telling him his car is here and makes his way to reception. He signals to the driver to wait. He can just make out enough of his phone screen to message Jen:
Anna Creed is claiming that Olly and Sasha buried Kitty Ellis on the site of an old plague pit. Could you go over there and talk to her and eyeball the site for me before you go home? Might be an opportunity to drop in on Nicole too and make sure she’s not going to do anything else we don’t want her to do.
He hesitates, then adds:
I may have been a bit short with Anna on the phone.
He thinks and edits the message to read:I was too short with Anna on the phone. I was getting a migraine.
Oversharing? No. He wants to be honest with her. If he’s feeling overwhelmed that’s not Jen’s problem, nor is it Nicole Booth’s. They deserve that every lead gets followed. He sends the message to Jen.
His headache notches up another level. Even as he leaves the office, in the distance he can still hear the phones ringing. And tomorrow morning he’ll have to give a press conference, because of Nicole Booth’s offer of a reward.
When he’s in the car he manages to compose a few more words for Jen and sends them:
Thanks, Jen. I know you’ll handle this beautifully. I’ll be at home for a few hours while I sleep this off.
67
FRIDAY
Nicole
Nicole carries a tray with mugs of tea on it out to the officers parked in her driveway.
The one on the passenger side rolls down the window. ‘Thank you.’
She hears a shout from the end of the drive. A man is getting out of his car. He holds a long-lens camera up to his face and starts taking photos.
‘Oh, God,’ Nicole says.
‘Go inside. I’ll talk to him,’ the officer says. She hurries in. She needs to warn Kitty.
‘Kitty!’ she calls. She doesn’t hear an answer and goes to look for her.
She opens the door to her den and finds Kitty sitting there, with a phone. But Kitty doesn’t have a phone of her own and she looks guilty.
‘Is that my phone?’ Nicole says. ‘I mean, it’s fine, you can use it, but please ask.’ Kitty looks distraught. ‘What’s wrong? Are Olly and Sasha making it difficult for you to come here?’
She’s wondered if they might. Having witnessed first-hand what Kitty does for them and how they barely acknowledge her, she’s not sure how much they value her as a person. She’s toying with trying to poach Kitty. She hasn’t been able to imagine having help before, but now that she’s met Kitty, she can see that it could work. It’s too soon to make her an offer yet, but perhaps, if things continue to work well for a few weeks, she will.
‘No,’ Kitty says. ‘That’s not it. Did you know there are journalists in the lane? I saw them on my way back from the Manor.’
‘I was coming to tell you that. Are you okay? Did something happen?’
‘I’m sorry I used your phone without asking,’ Kitty says. She hands it back. Nicole feels worried about her. She looks desperate.
‘You can talk to me,’ Nicole says. ‘Really. Whatever it is.’
Kitty breathes out, as if mustering up courage. ‘Alright,’ she says. ‘It’s Olly and Sasha. But it’s not what you think. My name isn’t Kitty.’
Nicole sits, rapt, listening to the story of how Anna became Kitty, of how she was courted by Olly and Sasha up until the point where her mind was being controlled by them, and was then manipulated so constantly by them that she had no space left in her head to consider what was really happening to her. ‘That’s the only way I can explain it,’ she says. ‘I don’t know whyI let them refer to me as Kitty. It makes me sick to even think of it now. I’m Anna.’
Nicole finds it hard to watch the other woman’s pain as she talks, and she feels appalled and angry on her behalf. It’s an extraordinary story and she can hardly believe it, but she knows this sort of thing happens. She’s read articles and seen it on TV.
