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‘Was Jenna aware of a problem in your relationship?’
I clench my hands. ‘I don’t know.’
‘How would you describe their relationship?’
‘He’s been her father since she was three.’ I’m about to say, If anything, they get on better than we do, but as I realise it’s true, it sticks in my throat. How many truths must I face up to today? ‘But Georgia Smith,’ I say, squeezing my fists tighter.
Bevan flattens her palms on the desk. ‘Interviews first. Then the search. Then Georgia. I promise.’
‘We’re wasting time,’ I say again.
Bevan cocks her head slightly. ‘Why does this woman hate you so much?’
I close my eyes. ‘She blames us for the death of her mother.’
38
NOW
Mina dusts her hands by the hearth as I come back into the kitchen. Fire crackles in the grate.
‘Ash,’ says Croft, standing by the door, beckoning him.
My father coughs and raises his eyebrows at Tristan. His meaning is clear. He couldn’t allow precious Ash to talk to the police alone.
Tristan follows Ash down the hall.
We don’t normally light the fire in the summer, but the temperature is dropping and the cold has got inside me. I try to catch Mina’s eye to say thank you for laying it, but she sits on the armchair, crosses her legs and doesn’t look up. I perch on a footstool and stare into the flames.
I told Bevan about the attack on Tristan; Georgia’s mother’s death. I begged her to send someone to speak to Georgia, and she said, ‘They don’t tell you this before you join up, but police work is really all about resource management.’
I remember toasting marshmallows in here with Jenna, her friends one winter afternoon, playing the dictionary game and marvelling at their cleverness. Sylvie had burnt her tongue and sat with it pressed to an ice cube.
Jenna’s life isn’t like that any more. She isn’t surrounded by friends. When did it change?
Ash comes out scowling with Tristan behind him. It’s Ava’s turn. Mina follows her to the office.
My mother and father, Tristan and Theo are waiting for the lawyer.
I don’t have the energy to think about all the possible reasons why they aren’t cooperating. It doesn’t matter, really. I know the only one who matters is Georgia.
When I go to the sink for water, Tristan comes over. ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmurs. ‘I promise I have nothing useful to say.’
I hold my breath. ‘The main thing is you’ve got Ash and Ava to talk to them.’ I suppose if he has nothing helpful to add, there’s no point in him incurring the wrath of my father. I pat his arm before going to sit in the armchair.
What would Georgia want with my baby? She couldn’t kill someone, could she? Buried deep inside is my best friend.
But her mother died. And then I’d heard she’d tried to end her own life. And at school she’d spat in my face. ‘You killed my mother,’ she’d hissed. And my father had gone round urging her to leave –explaining, if she didn’t, how the press would get hold of the story and how her mother would be remembered.
I get out my phone and look at the message from Yummummy25 again: She hurt my little girl.
Ava comes in again. Mina must’ve stayed behind to be interviewed. She’s not waiting for a lawyer. I could kiss her.
How could Georgia still blame us for what happened, though? Surely now she understands it was all her mother’s fault, that there was something very wrong with her mother.
I realise I’ve been pressing on my thigh. Then I feel the pain of it, sharp and high. A dark spot of blood is blooming on my dress. The fabric is deep green so hopefully no one will notice. I place a cushion in my lap.
Mina comes back in and sits beside me on the arm of the chair, her mouth a grim line. She reaches around me and rests her hand on my shoulder. Tristan comes to sit on the other side. DI Bevan and PC Croft murmur in the hallway.
