Sunday 10th December 2023
Georgie
Georgie struggles to find a way up, at first. But then she sees a narrow path to the right of the viaduct, cutting steeply through brown roots and slippery rocks. She trips several times, grazes her hands and eventually ends up on her hands and knees, scrambling like an animal.
When she reaches the top, she can see the figure properly. Her breath catches: it is Leo Dean. He is alive. He is here. But he is dangerously close to the edge of the viaduct, swaying and looking down at the valley.
Her nerves soar as she edges forward. She stops a few feet away from him and tries not to glance at the dizzying drop. The hills either side of the viaduct seem to cradle it, bringing a false sense of protection, but it’s so high that stepping off it would feel like stepping off the end of the Earth. And Ethan’s son, her should’ve-been stepson, is inches away from doing just that.
‘Leo?’ she says softly, then has to repeat it more loudly to be heard over the wind.
He jolts and she gasps in alarm, but he keeps his balance and turns only his head. He frowns at her, unrecognising. His face is covered in bruises and his jumper and jeans are dirty and torn.
‘Oh God, Leo,’ she says again. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Who are you?’
‘Why don’t you step back a little?’
‘Who are you? How do you know my name?’
‘I’m …’ She wonders whether to tell him, or pretend to be a stranger who’s heard about him on the news. Which would encourage him to trust her more? ‘I’m … a friend. Who would love for you to step back so we can talk …’
He turns away. ‘Leave me alone.’
‘I can’t do that.’
‘You really can. If you knew what was good for you, you would.’
‘What do you mean?’
Keep him talking, she thinks, keep him talking. Her eye flickers to the sky stretching out behind him, the stars just beginning to show.
‘I’m not a good guy,’ he says angrily.
‘I’m sure that’s not true.’
‘You don’t know me.’
‘Everyone’s good, deep down.’ She pauses, shaking off a fleeting image of the blood running from Ben’s head. ‘Everyone’s got something to—’
‘I’m wanted by the police.’ He turns again, challenging her to react.
She keeps her face neutral. So am I, she thinks, wondering whether to say it, create some common ground.
‘Well …’ she says, shuffling forward, ‘let me tell you a secret …’
‘I don’t want to know your secrets!’ He waves his hands, seeming to panic. ‘I have enough of my own!’
‘Okay!’ She stops where she is, terrified of unbalancing him. ‘Okay …’ When his shoulders sag and he lowers his hands, she dares to ask: ‘Why don’t you tell me about yours?’
He is silent for a long time, still staring down the bowl of the valley. His upper body starts to shake. ‘It doesn’t matter now,’ he says, through tears. ‘There’s no going back.’
‘There’s always a way back,’ Georgie says, but wonders if she believes it. What is the way back for her? Has she thrown away her last hope of unravelling the truth? Or could this be it; could Leo be her chance to make sure it wasn’t all for nothing?
‘I’m a KILLER.’ He shouts it into the sky like he’s trying to hurl the word over the viaduct’s edge.
Georgie jerks backwards, even though she already knows this. Leo’s whole body is rigid now, his fists clenched at his sides. One foot nudges forward so its toe hangs over the edge. Georgie pulls herself together and inches forward again, her hands hovering without touching him.
‘But you’ve done your time for that,’ she says.
He swings round to stare at her. ‘How do you know?’
‘I … I recognise you—’
‘Have you been sent here to bring me in?’ His eyes turn wild. ‘Are you a cop?’
‘No, no …’
‘I’ll jump!’ he yells, flailing his arms. ‘I can’t go back to prison. I can’t.’
‘I’m not a cop! I promise! I’m a friend, I knew your dad—’
He freezes, one hand stuck out in front. Slowly, almost robotically, he swivels to glare at her again. ‘What?’
‘I …’ Her face burns hot. Was that a mistake? ‘I … I knew Ethan.’ She says his name tenderly and she’s relieved to feel a sweep of untainted love. She won’t tell Leo about the things Ben said. Whatever their family dynamic, Leo must know, as she does, that Ethan was good. And maybe, like her, he has questions about his death. All that time to think in prison; maybe he wondered.
He retracts his hand and rests it against his own chest.
‘Ethan wasn’t my dad.’
Now it’s her turn to stare. ‘What?’
‘He wasn’t my dad. He wasn’t my dad.’ He grows frantic, stamping his feet. ‘But it doesn’t matter now. None of it fucking matters. I killed him for no reason …’ He shakes with fresh sobs, and Georgie’s head starts to roar.
‘Killed … who?’ she shouts back as the wind picks up.
‘Robbie. My friend. My … cousin. Did you know him too?’ He barely pauses for her answer. ‘Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I killed him because I thought … I thought … Fuck …’ The pain in his voice is like cracking glass.
Georgie swallows, trying to stay composed. She doesn’t know which part to focus on. Leo isn’t Ethan’s son? On a delay, she registers the fact that he called Robbie his cousin, and shock rockets through her.
Peter is Leo’s dad?
Chrissy slept with Peter?
Anger surges again, peppering her vision with black spots. Is there anything Chrissy didn’t put Ethan through?
Then it strikes her: it’s further motive, perhaps. Another reason Chrissy might have wanted him out of the way.
‘Because … you thought what?’ she asks, returning to Leo. He is rocking now, shaking his head; she wants to tell him to stop, be still, but maybe breaking his rhythm would be worse.
Then he murmurs, barely audible: ‘I thought he meant something else.’
‘Robbie?’
He stops rocking and glances over his shoulder. His face is white, his eyes bloodshot. ‘Who are you?’
‘It’s okay,’ she says. ‘You can trust me.’
He scrutinises her so intently she wants to look away. But she gazes back at him, nodding encouragement, trying to project kindness.
‘Well, it doesn’t matter now, anyway,’ he says, like a repeated mantra. ‘You may as well know. Then you can tell people, after I’m gone. You can tell them the truth ’cause I’m too much of a coward to do it.’
Georgie’s throat hurts and she feels her pulse in her skull. She inches another step closer. ‘Yes. You can tell me. But then we can sort it out together …’
‘This can’t be sorted out! I’ve killed three people. They’ll send me straight back to jail and I can’t … I can’t …’
Her legs feel like vapour. ‘Three people?’
‘See? I’m a bad guy—’
‘No,’ she says quickly. ‘No, I’m just trying to understand …’
‘Two of them were for a reason. Two of them I can just about …’ He squeezes his eyes shut, bashing his fist between them. ‘But Robbie … that was senseless. That didn’t have to happen, shouldn’t have happened. And when I realised that …’
‘Why was it senseless?’
‘He kept saying things, that day. Kept hinting. I told myself there was no way he knew, but it felt relentless, the little mentions, and I was spooked, I felt sick. Then in the pub … playing darts … he got right up close … he called me Daddy’s boy …’
Her gaze snaps to his face. ‘What?’
‘Robbie did. He said he knew my little secret. That was what sent me into a panic, made me so mad … He called me Daddy’s boy and he looked over at the door to the flat, or at least I thought he did, and I thought he meant … thought he knew …’
‘Knew what?’ Georgie’s pulse is like a current, electrifying her skin.
‘I thought he was talking about Ethan. That he’d figured out what I did.’ More tears stream down his face and he turns back towards the drop, wiping them roughly away. ‘And I snapped. I went for him …’
‘Wait …’ Georgie’s mind is spinning, scrambling the pieces together.
‘But when Marianne came to see me in prison, I realised it wasn’t that at all. He’d figured out Peter was my dad. He was jealous. It was Peter he looked over at, not the door. Not because he knew—’
Georgie can’t stop herself from yelling. ‘What did you do?’ She wants to grab him now. Shake the answers out of him.
‘I killed my dad …’ His confession is thrown to the valley. ‘The man I thought was my dad—’
Georgie feels as if she’s falling. ‘You? It was you?’
‘He wouldn’t stop hurting my mum and—’
‘No!’ She slams her hands over her ears. ‘No, no—’
‘LEO!’ comes a shout from behind, making them both freeze.
They stand there for a moment, locked in place, breathing hard. Footsteps approach. More than one set. Georgie has her back to them, her hands still over her ears, but she sees Leo’s eyes leave hers. Sees them widen, his face crumpling.
‘Mum.’
Georgie drops her arms and turns. Alice, Chrissy and Peter are running towards them. All three, together – of course – charging at her. She looks sideways at Leo. One push. There is time before they get to her. She looks back at the Inseparables and her rage is so strong she can hardly breathe.
‘Get away from him!’ Chrissy shouts.
Georgie plants her feet, lifting her chin. Never trust a Lowe. Or any of their friends. She has nothing left to lose but she still can’t let them win.