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It soon becomes apparent that although she was a regular poster on social media, there’s very little of a personal nature in her posts. She’s shared nothing that helps paint a picture of her, other than that she was huge on fitness and likes cats. It seems Alice had two Siamese cats – one white with piercing blueeyes, and the other mocha-coloured with green eyes. She clearly adored both of them, as her Instagram squares are as much about her pets as they are her personal training.
There’s no hint that Alice was in a relationship with anyone, and nor are there pictures of her with any friends. Not a single one.Strange. Either she was fiercely private, or she wanted to keep the rest of her life hidden.
A knock on the door forces me to close my browser, just in time before the door opens.
It’s a relief when Sarah appears, holding two coffees. ‘I was passing and thought you might need one of these,’ she says, sitting on the only other chair in the room. Never one for following rules, she’s dressed in her scrubs, and her long, light brown hair drapes around her shoulders. ‘Cole made me pay for these in case you’re thinking I’m just here for free coffee.’ She leans forward and lowers her voice. ‘He doesn’t like me, does he? All these years I’ve been popping in here and he can barely manage to make eye contact.’
‘It’s not you,’ I assure her. ‘I think it takes a lot for Cole to trust people. He’s very wary until he gets to know you.’
‘Well, I don’t have time for that,’ she says, rolling her eyes. ‘Got enough to worry about.’
‘Also, let’s just say serving coffee isn’t his favourite thing to do at work.’
‘Not when he’s technically the manager here.’ Sarah laughs. ‘I can’t believe you let him have that title.’
‘He works hard,’ I say. ‘I need him here. He knows this place inside and out. Even better than I do. He was loyal to Mum.’ Something I’ll never forget is that Cole has been here longer than I have, and used to work for my mother.
‘He’s just soweird,’ Sarah says, stretching the word out to give it more emphasis.
‘Are you working today?’ I ask. As much as she’s right about Cole, I will always defend him. Or anyone.Innocent until proven guilty. So why am I not applying that to my own husband?
She checks her phone. ‘Yep. In exactly one hour. And this shift is going to be a long one. Actually, that’s partly why I’ve stopped by. I’ve got a huge favour to ask. I really don’t want to, but I don’t have a choice. Mum was meant to be picking up Ivy after school and having her overnight. But can you believe she’s just messaged me to say she’s got her dates mixed up? Apparently, she’s going out for dinner with friends tonight.’ Sarah rolls her eyes again. ‘I’m sure she only arranged it when she knew I needed help again.’
This does sound like the kind of thing Carol, Sarah’s mum, would do. But innocent until proven guilty. ‘Of course we’ll have her,’ I say, without hesitation. ‘Poppy would love Ivy to come for a sleepover.’ Even as I say this, I wonder how I’m going to confront Max about the key card with the two girls around. But at least Poppy will sleep well in her own bed tonight if Ivy is in her room with her.
Sarah smiles. ‘That’s amazing – thank you, thank you!’ She jumps up and hugs me, sloshing coffee over the rim of my cup. ‘Oops, sorry. Look, are you sure it’s okay?’ She sits down again. ‘Won’t Max mind? It’s a school night and I’m sure the last thing he’ll want when he gets home is to find the girls having a mini disco in your living room.’
‘He’ll be fine,’ I say. But I’m already questioning why I’ve agreed to this when there’s a hotel key that’s linked to a dead woman in my locker.
Sarah studies me for a moment. ‘Are you sure everything’s okay with you and Max? I don’t know what it is but I’m getting the feeling there’s…I don’t know – a bit of tension? Please talk to me, Han.’
I should tell her everything; Sarah would understand. She’s been through enough in her life and she’s always compassionate. I can always be myself with her. Yet my mouth remains firmly shut. How can I tell her what I found in Max’s pocket? I need to know what it means first. ‘We’re okay,’ I say, glancing at the door. ‘It’s just…he’s been really off with me lately. Distant. Snapping all the time. I know it’s work pressure, but it’s hard to get through to him.’
Sarah places her coffee cup on the desk. ‘Have you tried asking him how he’s feeling? You’ve always said you two can talk about anything.’
Normally. But nothing about this is normal. Max’s behaviour. The hotel key card. A dead woman. ‘We’ve talked. He just says it’s work stress. But it’s affecting Poppy too.’
‘Kids are resilient,’ Sarah says. ‘Look at Ivy. She’s a little trooper. Takes everything in her stride. She hears all her friends talking about their dads and never questions me about Dean. She just knows he couldn’t be with us. Plus, she’s always being farmed off to Grandma’s. So much disruption, but she’s as happy as any other child. And as for Max, well, he loves you. It’s as simple as that. Maybe you’re just going through a rough patch. Remember when you were struggling with the baby days? That took its toll, didn’t it? And look now. Those days passed, didn’t they? And whatever this is, it will pass too. You just have to ride this storm and wait for sunnier days.’ She chuckles. ‘Jesus, it sounds like I’ve swallowed a self-help book! But it’s true, though. I know it feels a bit crap right now, but you’ll get through it.’ She checks her phone. ‘I’d better go. Patients need me. I’ll call you later.’ She stands, picking up her coffee cup. ‘I’d better take this back otherwise PC Cole will be arresting me.’ She chuckles.
At the door, Sarah turns back. ‘All you have to remember is that Max is a good man.’ She blows me a kiss before disappearing through the door, closing it behind her.
At twelve thirty, I tell Cole I’m popping out for lunch. ‘I need to get a few things,’ I explain, before he can question me. It’s a rare occurrence for me to leave the shop; my days are short enough with the school pick-up at three, so I rarely take a break. ‘Need me to get you anything?’
He shakes his head. ‘You know I always bring my lunch, Hannah.’ And it’s the same every day – a ham and cheese sandwich on wholemeal bread, cut into two triangles with some grapes, an apple and two digestive biscuits. Cole has never deviated from this menu.
He turns back to organising the shelves, but in the reflection in the doors, I see that Cole’s turned around again to watch me leave.He knows something is wrong.
The November chill seeps through my clothes, piercing my skin as I make my way along the high street, towards Putney Bridge. I’m compelled to keep moving, even though I have no business walking anywhere near the River Walk Hotel.
I am a criminal returning to the scene of my crime – even though I’ve done nothing to this woman, and have never even met her.
I don’t know what I expect to see when I get there, but it’s quieter than I’d imagined it would be. There’s one police car parked by the entrance, and a uniformed officer standing by the door. It’s not the frenzied scene I’ve imagined.
Outside the hotel, by the railing, is a sea of flowers. Passers-by slow down for a moment and stare, and I imagine their relief that this tragedy isn’t happening to them. Without much spectacle, they continue walking, their lives resuming because Alice was a stranger to them, her life nothing to do with theirs.
Somehow, though, it’s got something to do with mine.
I, too, slow down as I get closer, and I can’t tell whether it’s because my whole body feels like a dead weight, or because I need to see what’s going on. To find answers.
