Leanne became fascinated by the droplets of condensation that shimmered like pearls on the inside of her windscreen. Once they reached critical mass, they etched a seemingly random path down the film of moisture clinging to the glass. Or were they random paths? Like her thoughts, the droplets zigzagged this way and that, absorbing whatever they touched, growing in weight, moving faster, and then plop. Game over.
In terms of her investigation, Leanne was very much at the zigzagging stage and no closer to knowing what the final outcome would be. When she had spoken to Carole Brody earlier in the week, she had been expecting some form of answer, only to be given another question. And a subsequent call from Joe had thrown something new into the mix. He had done some digging of his own and had uncovered another anomaly; a discrepancy between a younger Claudia and her public persona.
Using the sleeve of her jacket to wipe the window, Leanne could see Claudia’s Mercedes through the security gates. She had been staking out the apartment for two hours, and had positioned herself in the passenger seat of her Fiesta so she could get some work done on her laptop. It would be pointless ringing the intercom, just as it had been pointless waiting for her calls to be answered. Claudia no longer trusted Leanne, and with good reason. Whatever the outcome and whatever the protests from Mal, Leanne would not be writing any more positive pieces about Mrs Rothwell. She didn’t deserve it.
As time crawled, Leanne’s laptop went into sleep mode; her sleeve became sodden from wiping the window, and her hopes of a confrontation dwindled. She had lost sleep rehearsing how this would go, and it could all be for nothing.
Leanne checked her watch for what she decided would be the last time, when she heard the clatter of metal as the gates hummed into life. She could see only the bonnet of Claudia’s Mercedes, but the car was moving. She snapped shut her laptop and slid it into the footwell before grabbing an envelope.
As Leanne took up position in front of the partly opened gates, vapour issued forth from her nostrils as if she were a fire-breathing dragon. She was ready for this, unlike Claudia, who had been driving slowly towards the gates when she spotted Leanne. The car juddered to a halt and Claudia’s mouth fell open, only to snap shut again as the reporter approached.
Leanne stepped into the path of the Mercedes. If Claudia chose to stay behind the wheel, Leanne’s questions would be shouted at her, or she could preserve some dignity and get out of the car. Wisely, she chose the latter.
‘What do you want?’ Claudia demanded. Her dark hair had been tied back into a tight ponytail that sharpened her features. She was in her gym gear and pulled her hoodie tight across her chest.
‘A little chat, that’s all.’
‘I’m rather busy. Can we do this another time?’
Leanne considered the request. ‘Erm, no.’
Claudia took a deep breath and attempted a smile that cut a sharp line across her face. ‘So how can I help you, Leanne?’
‘I’ve been continuing my investigations.’
‘If you’re after something newsworthy, you could always write about the hardship fund,’ Claudia suggested. ‘We’ve been inundated with applications and should be making our first payments soon. I’ll send you the press release when it’s ready, but until then, I have nothing to add.’
The dismissal had no effect. Leanne held her position. If Claudia wanted to pretend that Leanne hadn’t called her out about being Amelia’s hero, she could play that game too. ‘Amelia’s quite upset that you haven’t returned her calls.’
With her arms remaining across her body, Claudia squeezed her shoulders together. She was shivering, which would have made her appear vulnerable in someone else’s eyes. ‘I haven’t received any calls from Amelia, or her mum.’
‘Could there be a fault on your line?’ asked Leanne mischievously. ‘You haven’t answered my calls either.’
‘I’m sorry, that was deliberate,’ Claudia said. ‘The last few months have been overwhelming and I’ve needed to take a step back.’
‘That’s all right. I thought it might have been something I said.’
‘Look, Leanne. I can assure you I haven’t been avoiding calls from Amelia. I can only presume her mother wrote down the wrong number. We were all a bit emotional at the time.’
‘I can double-check with Kathryn.’ It wasn’t meant to sound like a threat. Or maybe it was.
‘Please, I never intended to upset anyone,’ Claudia tried. Met with only a blank stare, she crept closer and lowered her voice. ‘Off the record, I’ve had some health issues since losing the baby. I’m trying to get back on my feet again, but it isn’t easy.’
The confession made Leanne feel awkward, but she had no sympathy for the woman who was standing next to her Mercedes in top of the range gym gear, begging Leanne to see her as a victim. Her loss didn’t cancel out the lies she had told, or the glory she had stolen from someone less fortunate. Did that make Leanne a heartless bully? Or was that simply how Claudia wanted her to feel?
Leanne opened the envelope she had taken from the car and took out a sheet of paper. ‘Amelia asked me to give you this.’
‘That’s so sweet, thank you,’ said Claudia, reaching to take the drawing. Leanne held on to it.
‘I think she’s remembered a few more details. She keeps drawing you with a necklace.’
Claudia’s smile was fixed as she looked more closely at the sketch. ‘So I see.’
‘What was the pendant like?’
With a firm tug, Claudia took the sheet of paper. ‘It was over a year ago. I’m sorry, I don’t have a clue. What did Amelia say?’
‘She was almost as vague as you.’
Leanne wanted to take Claudia’s evasion as further confirmation that she was no hero, but could anyone be expected to recall what jewellery they had been wearing on the night of the fire? Actually, Leanne could. It was the eternity symbol she wore now. Lois’s gift.
‘Well, thank you for delivering this.’ Claudia stepped away.
‘Did Phillipa tell you I interviewed her?’
Claudia spun around. ‘An interview? When?’
‘Last week. I must say I was surprised when she agreed to see me.’ Leanne laughed as if the next thought tickled her. ‘She seemed to think you and I were best friends.’
‘Why on earth would she think that?’ Claudia asked. Realising she had made the suggestion sound like an insult, she quickly backtracked. ‘Not that I’m saying we haven’t developed a bond of sorts. You were the one who persuaded me to admit I saved Amelia, after all. I would never have come forward if it weren’t for you.’
Leanne didn’t flinch. ‘Oh, I don’t think I should be taking any credit for that particular story.’
Claudia waited for Leanne to explain why she had spoken to Phillipa, and when she didn’t, she was forced to ask, ‘What did you and Phillipa discuss?’
‘She mentioned you may have been talking to another survivor – Karin Gallagher. Have you?’
‘None of your business,’ said Claudia. Her hand reached for the car door. ‘What I mean is, I speak to many survivors who have contacted the charity, but it’s in the strictest of confidence. I can’t confirm or deny who we’ve been supporting.’
‘Did you know Karin tracked Phillipa down after the findings were published? She accused her of having an affair with her brother and implied the information had come from you. Phillipa presumed I was the original source.’
‘And what did you tell her?’
‘The truth,’ Leanne answered, wondering if Claudia recognised the word. ‘That you told me.’
‘This is ridiculous. I don’t know why I’m getting the blame,’ Claudia said, a little too petulantly. She had visibly paled. ‘I might have indulged in a bit of gossip, but can you blame me? You made me realise how Phillipa deserves to take some responsibility for the fire. Why should I care about protecting her reputation? She killed my baby.’
‘So you made up a story to get back at her?’
‘I didn’t make it up. Who’s to say it’s not true? Everyone knew how secretive Declan could be, and he did have quite a track record. He slept with his wife’s own sister for goodness’ sake.’
Leanne wasn’t listening. ‘But as we know, you are good at making up stories.’
Claudia wiped the sheen of sweat from her upper lip.
‘How did your mum die, Claudia? Because your old school friends don’t remember it quite like you do.’ Thanks to Joe, one of Claudia’s lies had been discovered and verified. It wasn’t the dramatic reveal Leanne longed for, but it was a start.
‘Have you been harassing them too? If you’re not careful, Leanne, someone is going to put in a complaint about you.’
Rather than respond to the threat, Leanne waited it out.
‘Why are you doing this?’ Claudia demanded. Her grip on the door handle tightened. ‘You really want to know what happened with my mum? Fine! She didn’t die, she left us. I was five years old. Dad promised she’d come back, but she never did. He was stringing me along, doing everything he could to avoid accepting sole responsibility for his daughter. He’s the liar!’
‘Is that why you don’t see him any more? Or is it because you’re afraid Justin will find out you’ve been lying to him? Wouldn’t it have been less painful to simply tell the truth?’
‘Is it a crime to want people to think better of you?’
‘I expect that depends on the lie.’
Claudia shook her head in despair. ‘I thought you were better than this, Leanne. This isn’t news. Why are we even having this conversation?’
‘I don’t know, Claudia. Why do you think we’re having this conversation?’
Claudia didn’t answer. There was no smile now, forced or otherwise.
‘Don’t you want to know what else I’m working on?’
With one hand on the car, the other resting on her hip, Claudia had miraculously become impervious to the cold that had been making her shiver. She held Leanne’s gaze and refused to be baited.
‘I’ve acquired a seating plan of who was sitting where in the theatre.’ Leanne didn’t say how she had acquired the information because Phillipa had asked her not to, but Claudia’s eyes widened. She knew. ‘For instance, I have it on very good authority that your tickets were in Row I, which was three rows behind Amelia. You would have been in either seat 8 or 9. Do you remember which?’
‘No.’
Leanne’s nostrils flared. ‘Funny thing is, I know the lady who was sitting in seat 10, which was the aisle seat.’ She didn’t offer any more information on Mrs Brody either, given their pithy telephone conversation.
‘Is there a point to this?’
‘The lady in question is adamant that you weren’t one of the two women sitting next to her. Two tickets. Two seats. And you were in neither. So I suppose my point is, where were you?’
Claudia raised her gaze to the skies. Thinking time presumably. ‘If you must know, there was a mix-up at the box office and someone was already in my seat when I got there. I didn’t want to cause a fuss so I sat somewhere else.’
‘Where? Was it in the same row?’ Leanne knew it couldn’t be. Every other seat in that row had been occupied, she had checked.
‘I don’t recall. It was in that general location,’ Claudia said, her voice clipped.
‘Could you be a little more specific?’
Claudia’s eyes shone. ‘Are you suggesting I wasn’t there?’ she asked, her words scratching against a constricting throat. ‘Because if that’s the case, maybe you should go back and speak to the witnesses who were ever so keen to tell you that they’d seen me. I don’t know what your problem is with me all of a sudden, but this is getting silly. Whatever your game is, please stop.’
‘You’re right, let’s stop playing games, Claudia. I don’t dispute that you were at the theatre at some stage, but I don’t believe that you went into a burning building to save Amelia. So tell me, what were you doing?’
Claudia’s eyes were no longer shining, they were shimmering with tears. ‘I’m getting back in my car and I’m driving through the gates, whether you’re standing in front of them or not.’
‘That’s OK. I think we’re done,’ said Leanne. ‘Thank you for your time.’
Walking back to her car, Leanne didn’t look over her shoulder to watch Claudia drive away. The car’s loud revs told her all she needed to know. She had rattled Claudia, and that felt good. She was still mulling over their conversation when she heard her phone ring.
‘Where the hell is your update on the McVey case?’ Mal demanded. ‘You were supposed to have it over to me first thing this morning.’
‘I’m working on it,’ Leanne lied as she slipped behind the wheel. She closed the door gently so her editor wouldn’t work out that she was in her car.
‘Finish it,’ he hissed. ‘And then get into the office. We need to talk.’