JEN
The name reverberates through my mind. I remember the moment when I saw the video taken by Alex at the scene of the murder–suicide.
‘It’s not possible,’ I say. I’m conscious of shaking my head as if I’m trying to get rid of what I’ve just heard. I tell myself that Laurence would never do anything to hurt me, not like this. ‘It must be a coincidence.’
‘Perhaps,’ says Bex.
‘No, it’s not him,’ I say. ‘He wouldn’t do this to me.’
‘What if …?’
But she stops herself.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘No, it’s too ridiculous for words,’ she says. ‘But what if Laurence is the one behind all of this?’
‘In what way?’
‘No, just forget I ever said anything,’ she says.
‘For fuck’s sake, Bex, just tell me!’ I shout.
She looks slightly taken aback and so I repeat the question in a more reasonable manner. But instead of saying anything, Bex takes out her phone and tells me that we should phone the police. Her fingers linger over the screen, but as she’s about to dial 999 I take the phone from her.
‘No, not if it’s Laurence,’ I say.
‘What do you mean?’
‘If there’s a chance it is Laurence who’s done this then it will all come out about what I did to him,’ I say.
‘So?’
‘I just can’t bear it,’ I say. ‘I’ve got enough shit going on at the moment without all that being dragged up.’
‘You can’t be serious?’ Bex looks incredulously at me. ‘Somebody nearly brained you, Jen – can’t you see that? And what if it wasn’t Laurence? What if it was Steven? Or someone else entirely? Someone you don’t know.’
I lower my head and say nothing.
‘Jen – what aren’t you telling me?’ asks Bex.
I start to talk, too quickly. ‘Did you see the MailOnline this morning?’
‘No, why would I? I never read that shit.’
‘There was a report that Victoria Da Silva was pregnant,’ I say.
‘Oh my God, the poor girl – but what has that got to do with you?’
‘I went to see the Da Silvas and when I was on the point of leaving, Mrs Da Silva told me that her daughter was pregnant. I told Penelope the news. God, I wish I hadn’t. I had a horrible row with her this morning. I accused her of leaking it. She denied it, of course, but you should have heard her, Bex, she said some truly awful things to me. Really cruel.’
‘Well, I never liked her, you know that,’ she says.
I smile, even though I’m in pain. ‘I’m sorry, Bex, for what I said yesterday. I didn’t know what I was—’
‘Ssh,’ she says, squeezing my hand. ‘It’s all forgotten. The main thing is that we’re friends. Friends for ever.’
‘Thank you,’ I say, my eyes filling with tears. I cough, clear my throat, and try to resume my earlier train of thought. ‘So I’m wondering whether the person who did this to me is neither Steven nor Laurence, but someone who believes it was me who betrayed Mr and Mrs Da Silva. I can’t say I blame them. After all, although they knew I was a journalist, I did promise them not to reveal anything about their daughter’s pregnancy.’
‘Do you think they would go so far as to send someone out to attack you like this? And would they be able to organise something so quickly?’
‘The story has been online for hours, since late last night I think. The Da Silvas seemed like such nice people, but I suppose you never know.’
‘But if you’re suspicious, then you really do need to go to the police,’ orders Bex.
‘I’m not sure,’ I reply.
I can feel the strength of Bex’s harsh gaze on me. ‘I understand you’ve had a horrible shock,’ she says. ‘And even though I think you’re mad, I can understand why you may not want to involve the police. But what if L— this man tries again? What if next time he hits you harder? Jen, listen to me, you need to report this to the police, and you need to do it now. Okay?’
I know she’s right.
‘They might be able to extract some DNA, or whatever it is those CSI people do, from the surface of your scalp,’ she says, a comment that makes me smile. ‘I won’t leave your side, I promise, and after that we’re going to Penelope’s and you’re going to pack a bag.’
I begin to protest, but she shouts me down.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll deal with that bitch if she gives you any trouble,’ says Bex. ‘And then you’re going to move back in with me, until all this has blown over.’
I feel my eyes light up with joy, as if Bex has given me the best present ever.
‘You mean it?’ I ask.
‘I mean it. Now let’s get you to the police station.’
At Kentish Town police station I tell them that I’ve been attacked. I’m taken in a car to the Whittington Hospital. In the back of the car a policewoman asks me a series of questions. I tell her about the man in the mask. Did I know if anyone had a reason to attack me? I shake my head. The police are bound to know about the fact that I was a witness to the murder of Victoria Da Silva, and so I tell her that perhaps it is linked to that. But that was a straightforward murder–suicide. The person who killed Victoria is dead. I inform them that I wrote a brief news story about the incident, but don’t say any more about what I’ve discovered since then. Neither do I tell them about Laurence. And I don’t want to point the detectives in the direction of Steven Walker or the Da Silva family because I need to carry on with the investigation myself. I’m given some advice on personal safety, and they wait for me while I go in to see a doctor.
I grip the edge of the examination table as a young medic gives me something for the pain and patches me up. As the doctor treats me I close my eyes and think back to the attack. I am sitting on the bench. There is a noise behind me. I open my eyes. A man in a mask, wearing a hat. He’s also gone so far as to cover his neck with a scarf and his hands with gloves to make sure no hair or skin is showing. How tall is he? It’s difficult to say, as I only caught a glimpse of him. It could have been anyone, perhaps a thug employed by Mr Da Silva. But Bex mentioned that she had seen both Steven and Laurence.
I know it’s time I let go of Laurence completely. Thinking of him is driving me insane. I tell myself – yet again – that I have to acknowledge that he has no feelings for me. Or rather, that his feelings for me are far from loving ones. If anything it seems as though he might actually hate me. Who was I trying to kid? To think that I believed we had another chance. I’m pathetic, I realise that. I must ask Bex whether she managed to have a word with him about being on the Heath that day. Perhaps she did, and this was his idea of a response. Nice. I think about the video that Alex took that day. I’m certain that Laurence was the mystery jogger. But what would make him want to attack me? Was it some kind of revenge for what I had done to him? Or was it a warning of some kind? A message to leave the case alone? To put me off the scent? But what did he have to do with Victoria Da Silva and Daniel Oliver? I’d never heard him mention either of them. But again, apart from the texts and emails and that brief meeting at his house, I’d had no contact with him since that awful night.
And then it comes to me. I feel faint and nauseous.
‘Do you need some more pain relief?’ asks the doctor.
I don’t answer. I think about what Bex said on the Heath: the possibility that Laurence was behind all of this. I knew Victoria Da Silva had been having an affair.
But what if the man she had been seeing was Laurence?