Two days earlier
Half an hour later, we arrive at Dinosaur Golf, which turns out to be just like normal crazy golf, only instead of hitting the ball through the spinning blades of a windmill, or into the yawning mouth of a demented-looking clown, you knock it along the arched spine of a brontosaurus, or into the open jaws of a roaring T-Rex.
There’s a café with a dinosaur-themed menu, a gift shop stocked with erasers, keyrings, posters and cuddly toys – the sorts of trinkets that little girls like Freya go crazy for – and, throughout the grounds, large fibreglass models of dinosaurs. When we come across our first one, I tell Freya to go and stand next to it so I can take her photo, but she shakes her head.
‘Don’t want to,’ she says, fear overwhelming her curiosity.
‘Do you want me to go with you?’ I ask her, and she nods. I hand my phone to Dad and take her by the hand and a moment later he snaps a picture of us standing next to a rather docile-looking triceratops as big as a car. When he hands back my phone, I send the picture to Martin with the caption: Guess where we are? That should brighten his day.
We work our way around the course, armed with a ball and a putter each. Chloe clearly enjoys helping Freya learn how to hit the ball just hard enough to make it to go where she wants it to, and Freya quickly gets the hang of things. Even Dad joins in, begrudgingly at first, but his competitive edge soon takes over and he’s unable to hide his delight when he gets his first hole-in-one. Seeing everyone having a nice time is not only soothing, it makes this morning’s worries start to feel overblown. If Chloe was determined to turn my life upside down, she wouldn’t be here now, wouldn’t be helping Freya and joking around with Dad. She came back because at least a part of her believes in me, trusts me. Perhaps it’s time to repay that trust.
When the game comes to an end, Dad takes Freya to the gift shop to pick up a souvenir of our trip, and Chloe and I take a seat at a picnic bench on the lawn in front of the Jurassic Café and pretend to browse the menu.
There’s nobody sitting close enough to overhear us and I know Freya will take an age choosing something from the shop, so we have time to talk.
‘There are some things you need to know,’ I tell Chloe. She looks up and nods, ready to listen. But am I really ready to talk? Secrets might be heavy things to carry around, but they can be hard to let go of too. If this goes wrong, I could lose everything. My life will come undone, unravel like a badly knitted sweater.
I take a few deep breaths to mentally prepare myself, then begin.
‘A couple of months before Amy died, Mum and Dad sat me down and told me that Mum had been diagnosed with breast cancer. They said the next few months were going to be really hard for her, for all of us, but the doctors had told them that, with the right treatment, she should make a full recovery.’
She didn’t, in the end, but that’s another story, a long and painful one. The tough months turned into tough years, our lives branching off into an alternate reality of endless hospital trips, of remission and relapse, of hopes raised and hopes dashed, until, eight years later, the cancer finally took her.
I go on. ‘They warned me that Mum would probably get a lot sicker before she got better, and that her hair might fall out because of the treatment. She always had lovely, long hair – not like mine.’ I reach up and scrunch my unruly curls with my fist.
‘I think you have nice hair,’ says Chloe.
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘Anyway, I tried to be strong, to keep it together in front of Mum and Dad, because I thought they had enough to deal with without me freaking out, but once I was on my own, that’s exactly what happened. I fell to pieces. I ran out of the house, and I suppose I could have gone to see Martin, but it was Amy I really wanted. Only when I got to her place, her mum said that she was at Connor’s, so I went to find her, but by the time I arrived she’d already left. When Connor told me I’d just missed her, I burst out crying on his doorstep. He invited me in, said he’d call Amy and get her to come back. But in the end, that didn’t happen.
‘Connor gave me a glass of his nan’s whisky. It tasted horrible, but it helped calm me down, and I told him what was happening. He was very sweet. He told me he was there for me. They all were. He’d lost his mum when he was just a kid, you see. Maybe that was why I trusted him, why I felt like I could talk to him. He gave me a big hug and let me cry on his shoulder for what felt like hours, and then …’ I feel my cheeks flush with shame at the memory of what happened next. ‘And then I kissed him.’
Chloe’s lips part in surprise, then her brow furrows. ‘You were upset, and you’d been drinking,’ she says. ‘He took advantage of you.’
I shake my head. ‘It wasn’t like that. I hadn’t drunk that much. No.’ I pause, try to find a way to explain. ‘Have you ever been so hurt and sad that you just wanted to feel … something else? Anything else? Does that make sense? Connor was there, and he was handsome and strong, and he was being kind to me. He didn’t force himself on me.’
If anything, it was the other way around. I remember looking up at him, getting lost in the blue of his eyes, and wanting him to kiss me. But he didn’t. So, I leaned in, and … It was a good kiss. Warm, wet, hungry. Memorable, in the way only the very best kisses in life are.
‘After a minute, reality came crashing in and we came to our senses. We stopped, and I know we both regretted it immediately. Everything got awkward between us, and I left, ran all the way home. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I’d kissed my best friend’s boyfriend … Such a stupid thing to have done, such a stupid mistake.’
‘It was an accident,’ Chloe says. ‘Like Connor said, on the tape.’
I pause for a moment. Can you kiss somebody by accident?
‘Right, yes,’ I say. ‘An accident. Just like Connor said. So, you see, we didn’t hurt Amy, at least not physically. But he cheated on her, and I betrayed her. We both felt awful. Neither of us wanted to lose her, so we agreed to pretend it had never happened, to keep it a secret. But secrets have a way of coming out.’
‘Amy found out?’
I nod. ‘The thing is, me and Amy were like sisters. We told each other everything. So, even though Connor and I tried to behave normally around her, I think she could tell something had changed. She could tell I had this secret inside me.’
I look over to the gift shop, see Dad and Freya through the glass, standing in front of a rack of cuddly toys. Freya has her head tipped to one side as she struggles to make her selection.
We still have time.
‘Around then, something else happened that put a strain on our friendship. You don’t need to know the details, but we had a bit of a falling out, and I think that’s what pushed her over the edge. She came to the house while I was out, said she wanted to pick up a CD she’d left at mine, and she went through my things and found my diary. At least I think that’s what happened. Maybe she just stumbled across it, and curiosity got the better of her. I hadn’t written down everything that had happened between me and Connor, but I’d written enough for her to know that something had happened.’
‘What did she do?’
‘Nothing, at least not right away. She waited a few days, until we were all together, then she confronted us, and all hell broke loose. Martin was furious with me, of course. He said we were over, and he made me give him back the ring he’d given me for Valentine’s Day. I loved that ring; it was the first thing he ever bought me. It had a little garnet stone in it, and he’d had it inscribed with our initials. Later on, he said he’d lost it, but I think maybe he threw it away, out of anger. He was very upset, and don’t get me wrong, it was horrible to see him so hurt. But it was Amy I was really terrified of losing. I tried telling her I was sorry, that it was just a stupid mistake, but she wouldn’t listen. She was angry with Connor, but she was really angry with me. She stormed off home, and that was the last time I saw her.’
Chloe gasps. ‘That was the night she went missing?’
‘Right. In the morning, Amy’s mum came to the house, and I thought she was there because Amy had told her what I’d done and now she was going to tell my parents and I was going to be in all sorts of trouble.’
‘But that wasn’t the reason.’
‘If only. Instead, she told us that Amy was missing.’
That unforgettable image of a distraught Elaine, standing on our front doorstep, comes back to me now. The look of desperation on her face, and the hope in her voice as she asked me where Amy was, because if anybody would know, I would. We were like sisters, after all.
I go on. ‘Within hours it was chaos. The police came, started asking questions, and I was so upset. I felt responsible. I’d kissed her boyfriend and now she was missing. I tried telling the police it was my fault, that we’d had a fight and she’d stormed off, but they weren’t interested. It turned out that Amy had gone home after the fight – her mum and dad had seen and spoken to her. Then, for some reason, she’d left the house again. Nobody knows why.’
‘You must have been so scared.’
‘We all were. We were desperate to find her. Martin and Connor and I joined the search. We handed out posters all over town. I remember thinking I didn’t care if she never spoke to me again, just as long as she was OK. But she wasn’t.’
A memory surfaces, of Mum holding me for what felt like hours after we got the news. I cried into her shoulder and all I could think was that it was my fault Amy was dead.
‘Then we found out someone else had been at the well, that someone had pushed her in … When they arrested Connor, I thought the police would talk to him, then let him go, because I knew, in my heart, that it couldn’t have been him, because he loved her, and there couldn’t be any evidence for something he hadn’t done. And then … somehow, there was. Amy’s bag, with her inhaler inside, was found hidden at the back of his wardrobe. I didn’t understand how that could have happened. I was so confused. It felt like a bad dream, and after that, it seemed even more important that people not know about me and Connor, because they might think it was something more than it was. More than just a stupid mistake.’ A motive, even.
‘What about Martin?’ says Chloe. ‘He knew, didn’t he? Weren’t you worried he’d say something?’
I shake my head. ‘At first, but then we talked, and he said he’d forgiven me. He accepted it was a mistake, a moment of madness, and nothing more. What with Amy’s murder and Connor’s trial, we had bigger things to worry about. I was … lost without Amy, and my mum was still poorly, and Martin was brilliant. He saved me, kept me sane. He was there for me then, and he’s been there for me every step of the way, even when I told him I was coming back to Westhaven to tell Amy’s story, and to find her real killer.’
Chloe smiles. ‘You must really love him,’ she says.
‘I do,’ I tell her. ‘And I loved Amy, despite the fact that I hurt her.’
‘That’s why you’ve tried so hard to find out who really killed her, isn’t it?’ she says. I nod, and she blows out her cheeks and exhales, long and slow. ‘Wow,’ she says. ‘All that, from a kiss.’
‘I know,’ I say. ‘I still feel terrible about it, and I know Connor does too.’
‘But you didn’t know what was going to happen,’ she says. ‘It was a mistake. An accident.’
‘Right, but if it hadn’t happened, Amy wouldn’t have found out and she wouldn’t have stormed off that night. She wouldn’t have been up in the woods on her own. She’d have been with us. She’d have been safe.’
Chloe lets out a heavy sigh, seems lost for words.
‘Nobody else knows about this,’ I tell her. ‘Apart from me, Connor, Martin, and now you. I know I told you filmmaking was all about getting to the truth, and here I am, with this big secret, but if people see that footage, they’ll think the worst. They’ll jump to conclusions and think that because we lied about this, we lied about other things. It’ll be bad for me, but it could really mess things up for Connor, especially right now. You understand that, don’t you?’
Chloe looks down at the table, runs a thumbnail back and forth along the woodgrain.
‘Don’t do that,’ I tell her. ‘You’ll give yourself a splinter.’ I reach out and still her hand and she looks up at me.
‘I won’t tell anyone,’ she says. ‘It was a mistake. It’s like you said about Evan. The only person responsible for his death, is the person who killed him. It’s the same with Amy, isn’t it. You didn’t push her in the well.’
She takes her phone out of her pocket, makes sure I can see the screen as she brings up her photos app. She selects the video file, then clicks the trashcan icon on the bottom right of the screen. Her phone asks her if she’s sure, and she immediately clicks yes, then she goes to her deleted items folder and wipes the file from there too.
Thank God …
I lean over and offer her a hug, which she accepts. ‘Thank you,’ I say into her ear, and I hold her for a while longer, feeling grateful for this young girl who has come out of nowhere and now knows my oldest secret. I’m not sure I feel any better for having shared it, but maybe I will, in time.
Five minutes later, Freya comes barrelling out of the gift shop with Dad in tow. ‘Look what I’ve got!’ she shouts, waving a large, blue cuddly dinosaur at us.
‘Wow!’ I say. ‘I hope you’ve said thank you.’
‘Thank you, Grandpa!’ she hollers and Dad smiles.
Chloe acts suitably impressed as Freya shows off her new friend, and they discuss whether the dinosaur is a girl or a boy and what name it should be given. I look across the table at Chloe, and she grins back at me. Thank God. The little time bomb in a hoodie has been defused.
I clap my hands. ‘Right, who’s for a Brontoburger?’
Chloe nods and Freya cheers and jumps up and down. Dad looks somewhat less enthused at the idea. I wave the menu at him. ‘It’s either that, or Plesiosaur nuggets.’
He rolls his eyes. ‘I suppose it’ll have to be the burger then,’ he says, as if he’s disappointed at ruining his strict diet of sandwiches and red wine.
I get up and head over to the café, my phone ringing as I push open the door. I take it out, see Flora Starling’s name on the caller ID, and stop in front of the counter.
Why on earth is Connor’s grandmother calling me?
‘Jessie? Jessie … that you?’ she says, when I answer.
‘Flora? Is everything OK?’
‘They’ve taken …’ I can’t hear her. The signal is too weak inside the café.
‘Hang on,’ I tell her. ‘You’re breaking up.’ I head back outside, stand out in front of the café. On the lawn ahead of me, Chloe is walking Freya’s cuddly blue dinosaur across the table and making it talk. Freya is laughing like a drain.
‘Flora, are you still there? What’s happened?’
‘They’ve taken him, Jessie,’ she says. ‘They’ve taken Connor. You’ve got to do something.’
Oh God. It’s finally happened. The protestors have tipped over the edge, broken into Connor’s and dragged him out into the street to beat him up, or worse. I know Connor wouldn’t go down without a fight, that he’d do everything he could to stop the mob from taking him, but if there were enough of them, even he wouldn’t stand a chance.
‘Flo, you have to call the police,’ I say. ‘Call them, right away.’
‘What do you mean?’ she says. ‘It’s the police who have taken him, Jessie. He’s been arrested.’