The ‘Welcome to Boscombe’ sign loomed large ahead of them as the stop-start traffic moved along the road. It had taken an age to get this far as the British public made the most of the fine weather and headed for the beach. The Audi’s air conditioning was operating at full blast, but was doing little to cure the clamminess of Alice’s hands as she gripped the steering wheel.
She didn’t need to tell Tara why they had come.
As the traffic lights turned red, Alice scanned the roadway ahead, looking for any kind of clue as to which road Kerry had lived on. She knew she’d recognize it from the news reports she’d seen yesterday, but so far nothing looked familiar. Tara was gazing out of the window, deep in thought, probably pissed off that she’d agreed to come on this wild goose chase at all.
‘I really do appreciate you being here,’ Alice said quietly, the words almost sticking in her throat.
Tara looked at her. ‘Just tell me one thing. Why are you so keen to go digging into something that has nothing to do with you? What is it about this girl?’
Alice put the car into gear as the lights turned green. ‘She didn’t have to die. That’s what irritates me the most. She was hired to do a job, did it and should have been on her way home to her child. Instead, some monster snatched that away from her and orphaned her son. That poor lad will never understand how much he was loved or why it happened. I just … I feel compelled to find out the truth for him.’
‘Why, Alice? Why you?’
‘Because he doesn’t have anyone else. I know what it’s like to lose two parents. Both my dad and stepdad were taken from me too soon, and although I’m coming to terms with my grief, I still miss them every day. How are you supposed to explain to a five-year-old boy why his mummy never made it home?’
Tara didn’t respond.
The parade of shops was made up of a pizza delivery store, a local supermarket, a barber’s, and a fish and chip shop. As she turned into the road, and the one after that, she did recognize the street the reporter had been standing on. One of the properties had been cordoned off – Kerry’s house – and a single officer in shirt and tie was melting in the sweltering heat just outside of it.
‘There you go,’ Tara said. ‘That was her house according to what I saw on the news. Has that satisfied your need?’
It hadn’t. Alice had felt compelled to drive to the street, to get an inside knowledge of the journey Kerry was due to make that night before she’d been attacked, but it hadn’t brought her any kind of answer.
That’s when it hit her: the real reason she was so fascinated by this girl.
As she imagined Kerry leaving the Merry Berry and walking into the darkness of the street, she could see a dark figure chasing up behind her. The man in her head was Ben. Even though she knew he couldn’t be guilty, that he was tied to the lamppost, she couldn’t escape the nagging voice that had her wanting to believe he was the one responsible. As she pulled the car into a space across the street from the police cordon, she felt her eyes welling up.
Tara immediately wrapped a protective arm around her friend’s shoulders. ‘Oh, sweetie, what’s the matter?’
‘She … could … have … been … me,’ Alice stuttered between sobs.
Tara looked confused and waited for her to elaborate.
‘At university … I used to pose for men.’ She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes with the back of a hand. ‘I posed nude for local artists.’ A beat. ‘I would see the way some of them would look at me – men old enough to be my father – and I knew what they wanted, the things their sick minds were contemplating. Every time, one of them would offer me a lift home, but I never accepted; I was too scared to be alone with any of them. But I needed the money and posing was easy. All those times I walked home alone … I could have ended up like Kerry. Had she not been out that night, she could have become me. I was that girl.’
Tara pulled her in closer. ‘You never told me you did anything like that at university.’
‘I was too embarrassed! You worked at the student bar a couple of nights a week for cash, but I earned double what you did for just one gig. I thought if I told anyone what I was doing, they – you’d – get the wrong idea and think I was pimping myself out, which I wasn’t. All I had to do was strip and sit still for two hours. Now Kerry’s life has been snuffed out, leaving that terrified boy with a broken heart. I feel … I feel it is my responsibility to help him, but to do that I need to find him.’
Tara frowned empathetically. ‘How can you help him?’
‘I don’t know, Tara, but I have this overriding voice in my head telling me to track him down. Maybe we could set up a trust fund for him, or, I don’t know, adopt him.’
Tara’s eyes widened. ‘You’re getting way ahead of yourself, Alice. Adoption? You’ve never even met this kid, and as sweet as he might be, you don’t know who else is in his life who might be able to look after him. For all you know, Kerry might have had a long-lost brother or sister, or an uncle or aunt, or I don’t know what.’ Tara bit her bottom lip. ‘I wouldn’t say this if we weren’t friends, but you’re starting to sound obsessed.’
Alice was staring at Tara when she spotted an elderly woman pushing a shopping trolley towards the property they were parked in front of. Without a second’s thought, she was out of the car, approaching the woman.
‘You’re Kerry Valentine’s neighbour, aren’t you?’ Alice began. ‘You were the one who was looking after her son on the night when she … well, when she went missing.’
The older woman was panting slightly, deep sorrow filling her eyes. ‘Yes, dear, are you another journalist?’
‘No,’ Alice said, stepping closer so the police officer across the road wouldn’t hear her speaking. ‘I was an old friend of Kerry’s.’
The woman’s brow furrowed for a moment, and then she squinted. ‘What’s your name?’
‘It’s Alice.’
The older woman’s frown deepened. ‘I don’t recall her mentioning you.’
Alice ground her teeth against the shame of misleading this poor woman. ‘To be honest, I hadn’t seen her in years. Can I help you with your shopping?’ Alice suddenly asked, keen to change the subject. ‘From what I hear, you were very good to Kerry before the end, so it’s the least I can do.’
The woman smiled welcomingly and fished in her bag for a set of house keys. She handed them to Alice, who promptly lifted the trolley towards the door and then inside.
‘Would you like to stay for a cup of tea?’ the woman asked as she removed her thin anorak and hung it on a hook by the wall.
Alice glanced back at the car where Tara was mouthing questions with a shocked look on her face.
‘Tea would be lovely,’ Alice said, closing the door. ‘You sit down, and I’ll make it.’