Rosa answered the intercom, sounding slightly out of breath. There was a buzz to let me in and I pushed the door open, as if it was normal to turn up unannounced on a Monday afternoon.
The apartment was on the second floor, down a corridor that smelled of vanilla, filled with natural light from a floor-length window at the end. It was a lot more attractive than the block of flats I’d lived in with Emma in London, where the bare lightbulb on the staircase always fizzled out before we reached our door, leaving us squealing and fumbling with the lock, certain someone was lurking in the shadows.
‘This is a surprise.’ Rosa greeted me with a querying smile as she opened the door, wearing a silky bathrobe with a flower motif, her hair wrapped in a towel. I’d obviously disturbed her having a bath or shower.
‘I’m sorry to turn up like this.’ I looked past her at the open-plan living space, guiltily hoping Jamie wasn’t around.
‘He’s out on a job,’ she said, as though reading my mind, gesturing for me to come in. I caught a drift of coconut-scented shampoo as I stepped past her. Tendrils of hair had escaped her towel and were clinging to her neck, which was pink, as if she’d been soaking in hot water. ‘I’m on duty later, so was making the most of having the place to myself.’ Her smile as she closed the door grew unexpectedly mischievous. ‘Jamie tends to make his presence felt.’ She indicated the sound system in the corner, surrounded by vinyls of his favourite bands, and a guitar that Matt had taught him to play propped against a speaker. He’d liked Matt, almost against his better judgement, but it had made family gatherings easier as he was less likely to prod at me when Matt was there.
‘Jamie’s always loved his music,’ I said, edging further inside, trying to shed my nervousness. I’d never been there on my own with Rosa and I knew Jamie wouldn’t like it. He’d worry I might say something to put her off, though I never would. ‘Doesn’t it disturb your neighbours? When I shared a flat, years ago, we could hear the man upstairs taking a pee.’
‘Was that with your ex?’ she asked, padding barefoot to the island that separated the kitchen from the living room.
‘No, a girlfriend,’ I said. ‘We were at art college together; it was all we could afford. Not like this.’ I looked at the painting I’d given them when Jamie moved in, hanging above the big sofa, the sulphur yellow sky in the picture complementing the touches of colour in the cushions and curtains. ‘It’s lovely,’ I said, eyes drifting over the beechwood coffee table and stripy rug, across to the dining table by the window. ‘I’ve never seen it in daylight.’
Rosa’s laugh was surprisingly mellow as she ran cold water into a tumbler. ‘You’re always welcome to call round,’ she said, filling another glass and bringing them over. ‘You don’t have to wait for an invitation to dinner.’
My cheeks tingled with colour as I took a glass and gulped a mouthful of water. I wanted to tell her I did have to wait. Because that’s how it was with Jamie. Our relationship precluded spontaneous get-togethers; they had to be carefully orchestrated, by him. But I guessed she already knew that and was being polite. ‘Same to you,’ I said. ‘I mean, you’re always welcome at ours.’
‘Thank you.’ She looked at me over the rim of her glass, as though checking I was being serious, and I wondered what she really made of us all; imagined her telling her family that the Abbots were a strange bunch.
There was a cheerful cluster of photos of her family on a desk tucked into an alcove: a smiling older couple who were clearly proud of their daughter judging by their expressions, and an older brother, who looked a lot like Rosa. He and his wife lived in Scotland with their baby twins, and I remembered Rosa telling Mum that her parents had moved up there last year to help out.
Above the desk was a framed commendation certificate for her courage and integrity when responding to a woman threatening to jump off a roof. Not for the first time, I felt a bit shallow for thinking what I did made much of an impact compared to her line of work.
‘I’m assuming this has something to do with yesterday,’ she said, after taking a small sip of her drink. She crossed to the sofa and sat down, signalling for me to do the same. She was more assured on her own territory, and I had an image of how she must be at work.
‘I haven’t had any more messages, but someone has been in my studio at Mum and Dad’s.’ I felt a lurch of embarrassment, knowing she must have seen what was, in effect, a converted shed in their garden. ‘I took a picture.’ I dipped my hand into my bag, but as I opened the photo gallery, I had a horrible sense of déjà vu and wondered whether the picture would still be there.
It was.
‘It’s not very clear,’ I said, showing her the screen. ‘I thought you might be able to find out more about it, the size, what brand, that kind of thing.’ As she reached over and took the phone, I had the impression that I was being a bit pathetic and she was privately reframing the scene to replay to Jamie later, but her brow crinkled as she enlarged the image with her fingers and studied it closely. ‘There was a robbery next door last week, so it could be the same person.’ My mouth felt dry. I picked up my glass and took a couple of sips. ‘Mum said you told her off for leaving the keys by the back door.’
She looked up and smiled. ‘I wouldn’t say told off. But it’s surprising how complacent people are about home security.’
‘There was no sign of a forced entry.’ I winced at the formal wording. ‘Someone must have seen the key and swiped it, which wouldn’t have been hard considering the back door is always open at this time of year.’
‘It’s what we call opportunistic crime.’ Rosa sounded more official by the second. ‘People make themselves easy targets.’
‘It doesn’t mean they deserve to be robbed.’
Surprise flickered over her face. ‘Of course it doesn’t.’ She touched my phone screen a couple of times. ‘I’ve sent myself a copy of the picture. I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Oh, right. Thanks.’ I felt chastised as I took my phone back. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean—’
‘Beth, it’s fine.’ Her eyes were gentle. ‘I can see this isn’t easy for you.’
I was suddenly close to tears. ‘There was a … a package too this morning, left on my doorstep. A Lilo.’
‘Lilo?’
‘An inflatable, like the one I … the one I …’ My breathing came faster.
‘The one you had on the sea that day?’
I nodded.
‘And you don’t know who left it there?’
‘No.’
‘Do any of your neighbours have CCTV?’
I thought for a second. ‘Maybe Lewis and Jude across the road, but it’s just for home security. I don’t think it covers our side of the road.’
‘Are you asking me to launch an official investigation, Beth?’
My breath caught. ‘Maybe not official, no, at least not yet.’ I pressed my lips together, knowing there was no going back. ‘What I told you yesterday, about the man who drowned …’ I stopped, cleared my throat.
Rosa shifted slightly, her robe falling open to reveal her long, sculpted legs, pale as skimmed milk. She clearly wasn’t a sun-worshipper. ‘Go on.’
‘I’ve tried to find out about him, on and off over the years,’ I said, reducing the frantic hours I’d spent scouring newspaper archives online to a single sentence. ‘Never had any luck.’
‘Jamie said you wanted to hire a private investigator to trace his family.’
Shit. I couldn’t believe he’d told her that. ‘It was a long time ago, when I was going through a bad patch.’ I shifted out of the glare of sunlight falling across the sofa. ‘I thought if I could find them and … I don’t know, apologise, or something. Tell them how grateful I was, that his sacrifice hadn’t been wasted …’ My words petered out.
‘But you didn’t?’ she prompted softly.
‘I was told that even if I did discover who he was, it might make things worse.’ I remembered the feeling of powerlessness. ‘It could give his family a focus for any anger they might feel.’
‘And you think this is what’s happening now?’
I looked at her, grateful she understood. ‘Maybe.’
‘And you’d like me to find out?’
‘You probably have resources you can use.’
Rosa nodded briefly. ‘A national database. His death will have been recorded somewhere and of course there’ll be a coroner’s report.’
A shiver fluttered across my chest, hearing her say it so baldly.
‘I know death records are available to the public, but without a name to go on I had no chance.’ I hesitated, feeling as if I was standing on a precipice. ‘And you think you could find his relatives?’
She regarded me for a moment then placed her glass of water on the floorboards. ‘What are you planning to do with the information, if I do find something?’
For a moment, I could only hear the blood swooshing in my ears. ‘Just talk.’ My voice sounded small. ‘Say sorry, I don’t know. Ask, why? Why are they doing this now?’ I held up my phone. ‘Ask what they’re hoping to achieve, tell them they can’t punish me any more than I’ve punished myself—’
‘Except, they can.’ Rosa’s voice cut me off.
‘Sorry?’
‘If, as you claim, your life’s been threatened, that shows intent to do harm.’
My mind reared away. ‘Or to scare me.’ I dropped my phone in my bag. ‘They want me to think they mean harm, but really it’s a reminder that …’ I looked around unseeingly, ‘… that life is precious and can be taken away at any minute, but I know that already, Rosa, I don’t need reminding. I’m reminded at work every day, hearing people’s stories, the terrible things they’ve been through. I know how precious life is, I have a daughter for God’s sake.’ I stood up, too agitated to sit still. ‘What would happen to Hayley, if something happens to me?’ I stared at Rosa, not giving her time to reply. ‘She needs me – I’m her mum. I can’t stand by and let something happen to me. I want to be in her life, even if someone thinks I don’t deserve it.’ I covered my face with my hands, my shoulders shaking, jumping when gentle fingers landed on my arm.
‘It’s going to be OK, Beth.’
I lowered my hands and looked at Rosa in front of me, solid and sure in spite of her towel and robe. ‘Murder’s rare in real life, if that’s what’s worrying you,’ she said. ‘It’s incredibly hard to kill someone in cold blood. It’s usually a crime of passion, committed in the heat of the moment, often fuelled by alcohol or drugs, or by someone who’s mentally ill, or a psychopath.’ She gave my arm a comforting rub. ‘Believe me, Beth, those are rarer than you think, despite what you see on TV. Cases like that make the news precisely because that’s what they are. Big news – not stuff that happens every day.’
Her words were comforting. For a moment, I wanted to lean in and hug her, but her hand fell away and she took a step back, as if remembering we didn’t know each other very well.
I wiped tears from under my eyes. ‘I can see why Jamie wants to hang on to you,’ I said with a watery smile. ‘He’s a lucky man.’ A look crossed her face, like the sun going in. ‘Is everything OK?’ I said, carefully. ‘Between you and Jamie, I mean?’
‘Fine.’ Her expression grew guarded as she turned, touching the towel around her head as if she’d forgotten it was there. ‘I should take this off and dry my hair,’ she said, a smile darting over her lips. ‘It’ll look terrible, otherwise.’
‘I don’t want to pry, but—’
‘Your brother.’ She paused, fixing her gaze on the window. The sun had shifted, illuminating her face. She looked older suddenly, her eyes radiating sadness.
‘Rosa, what is it?’
‘Oh, nothing, really.’ Her fingers smoothed the edge of her robe. ‘He thinks I spend too much time at work, that’s all, and he’s probably right.’
Oh, Jamie. ‘But he knows how much you love your job. He’s proud of you.’
‘I know.’ She looked down, addressing her words to the floor. ‘About what we’ve just discussed,’ she said, ‘I’d rather he didn’t know, if you don’t mind.’
‘Rosa, I’m so sorry.’ Shame washed through me. I hadn’t thought what an awkward position I was putting her in. ‘The last thing I want is to get between you and Jamie. He’s so sensitive about the past.’
When her eyebrows popped up in mock surprise, I nearly laughed with relief that she could see the understatement. ‘Exactly!’ I smiled. ‘So, forget I said anything. I’ll figure it out myself.’
‘No, no. I want to help,’ she said firmly. ‘If it gives you answers, or peace of mind, or stops something awful happening, it’ll be good for everyone, including Jamie.’
So, they were having problems. ‘I won’t say anything, I promise.’
We looked at each other solemnly, then I checked the time. Matt would be on his way to pick Hayley up from her dance class. ‘I have to go,’ I said. ‘Could I quickly use your bathroom?’
‘Of course.’ Her professional persona back in place, she inclined her head towards the door. ‘You know where it is.’
I used the toilet, absently admiring the small, minimalist room – as tidy as the rest of the apartment – then stared at myself in the mirrored cabinet over the sink as I washed my hands. At least there was no outward sign of my inner turmoil. I didn’t want Hayley or Matt picking up that anything was wrong.
I smoothed my hair behind my ears, then straightened the towel on the rail, feeling a pang of remorse when I noticed Rosa’s clothes in a heap by the laundry basket and remembered she’d been trying to relax before going to work.
There wasn’t much sign of Jamie, apart from a bottle of shampoo on the side of the bath that I recognised as his favourite brand. He was fussy about personal grooming, and spent a fortune on toiletries.
On my way to say goodbye to Rosa, I paused and glanced inside the main bedroom, where Rosa’s police uniform was hanging neatly on the wardrobe door, the pillows on the bed plump and inviting. Next door was the room Jamie used as a study, slightly ajar. I pushed it wider and went in, knocking over a pair of his work boots just inside, blinking through the gloom.
The room was at the back of the house, and the curtains were pulled across the window, but there was no mistaking the mess. Jamie’s surfboard was propped against one wall, next to a blown-up image of him riding a wave that I could hardly bear to look at. If my way of coping with what had happened in the past was to stay away from the sea, my brother’s had been to embrace it, learning to surf and sail on holidays in Cornwall with friends, as if trying to prove a point, though I’d never quite worked out what it was.
On the desk that housed his laptop and printer, sheets of A4 paper spilled onto the floor. He did his own accounts, despite being able to afford to pay someone to do them for him, but I knew it was his way of staying in control.
About to close the door, I noticed a balled-up sheet of copier paper on the floor beside the shredder, as if Jamie had thrown it there. It was covered in printed words – or rather, one word. Moving closer, I saw the word LIFE typed over and over in different fonts and sizes, covering the entire page.
A LIFE FOR A LIFE.
‘Beth?’
Heart racing, I backed out of the room, bashing my elbow on the doorframe.
‘You forgot your bag,’ said Rosa, dangling it from her fingers. ‘You’re brave going in there.’ She gave a small grimace. ‘I’m not allowed.’
‘Not allowed?’
‘Let’s just say, I don’t mind.’ Her tone was wry. ‘He’s very untidy.’
‘He always was – you should have seen the state of his bedroom when he was a teenager.’ I felt disloyal, talking about him like that, but couldn’t stop spouting words. ‘It looks like he’s been doing a lot of printing.’
Rosa nodded. ‘He’s designing some flyers to post through doors,’ she said. ‘He’s keen to find more business.’
I nodded, trying to smile as I took my bag. ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘And I’m sorry again for dropping in like this.’
‘No problem.’ She followed me to the door, leaning past to help with the latch. ‘I’ll keep you posted.’
I hurried downstairs and out onto the pavement, blinking in the brightness as I dashed to my car. As I fumbled with my seatbelt and started the engine, all I could think was, what if the threat to my life had nothing to do with the man who’d drowned at all?
What if it was closer to home?