JEN
Back at her flat Bex makes sure I’m comfortable. She takes out a pile of lovely blankets and cushions and arranges them around me on the sofa. She even rustles up some hot chocolate for us and tops it off with frothy cream. She knows that’s what I like.
‘You’re spoiling me rotten,’ I say when she hands it to me.
‘Well, you’ve had a shock. And I’m still feeling guilty for storming off like I did and leaving you on the Heath.’
I pat the sofa and she comes and sits next to me like an obedient dog.
‘Woof!’ she barks, which makes me laugh.
She says it’s lovely to see me like this – here, once again living with her, and nearly back to my old self, even if I have suffered a minor head injury. ‘So you’re sure the doctor says that you’ll be fine?’ she asks.
‘Apparently so,’ I reply. ‘There’s no concussion, and I just have to take it easy for a while.’ I study her closely. ‘But how are you?’
‘Me? You know me, I’m always fine!’ There’s a certain brittle, artificial quality to her words. She takes a sip of the hot chocolate.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course – it’s you we need to worry about. You need to get some rest. Put everything that’s happened to the back of your mind. Try to forget about that awful thing you saw on the Heath.’
‘But that’s just it,’ I say. ‘I can’t forget about it.’ I shift my position and look directly at her. ‘Don’t you think it’s odd that I’m attacked just as I start to delve deeper into this thing? It can’t be a coincidence, surely? That must mean one thing – I’m getting closer to the truth.’
I’m sure Bex doesn’t mean to snigger, but she says she can’t help it. ‘Sorry, Jen, but you should hear yourself, you sound … I don’t know. Weird.’
‘I know it might sound absurd, but what other reason could there be?’ I say, putting down my hot chocolate. ‘I witness a terrible murder and then a suicide on Parliament Hill Fields on Valentine’s Day. One of the people there, who runs away from the scene, just as it unfolds, turns out to be my ex-boyfriend, Laurence. I start to get a series of creepy messages from an account called @WatchingYouJenHunter. I begin to look into the crime, in order to investigate whether there could be any truth in the idea, suggested to me by this @WatchingYouJenHunter, that Daniel Oliver didn’t kill his girlfriend, Victoria Da Silva. Then, soon after I learn that she was having an affair and that she was pregnant, I get attacked by some man in a mask.’
‘Yes, when you put it like that it does seem odd, but the truth is I’m worried about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Have you had any more of those weird messages?’
‘No, not for a while, so maybe that’s the end of it,’ I tell her.
‘Let’s hope so. You feel safe here though, right?’
‘Yes, of course I do.’
‘You know you can stay as long as you like. I know it’s not as fancy as Penelope’s house – I’m afraid I don’t have a garden as big as a tennis court – but I want it to feel like home.’
‘Thanks, Bex, for everything,’ I say. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ I fall silent for a moment before I continue. ‘Can I ask you about Laurence?’
‘Oh yes, that fucker. What about him?’
‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but I wondered what you said to him?’
‘I told him not to mess with you or he’d have me to answer to.’
‘Seriously, I want you to tell me what you said to him and what he said back. Just in case it was him who attacked me, I need to know everything.’
‘Okay, but what about another hot chocolate?’ she asks as she stands up.
I shake my head.
‘Something stronger?’ she asks.
‘No, I’m fine at the moment. So – what happened?’
‘I went round to Laurence’s house and of course, he denied once again that he was the jogger,’ she tells me as she comes and sits down again. ‘He’s such a lying bastard. But then I played him the video that you sent me, over and over again until he finally admitted that it was him. He had no choice, really. However, he denied the fact that he ever sent you any messages on Twitter or that he had set up any fake account. He did tell me that he would go to the police and give a statement about being on the Heath on Valentine’s Day. He said that he was scared, that’s why he ran away, but that he has nothing to hide.’
‘And do you believe him?’ I ask.
‘To be honest, I’m not sure I believe a word that comes out of his lying mouth,’ she says.
‘But why didn’t he tell the truth to begin with – about the fact that he was on the Heath that day?’
‘He came out with all this stuff about not wanting to get dragged into a police investigation. Said it wouldn’t look good for his reputation and his practice, crap like that.’
‘Did you ask him whether he knew Victoria Da Silva?’
‘No – should I have done?’
I tell her my suspicions: that Laurence might have been having an affair with the dead girl, that I believe there’s a chance that Victoria was pregnant with his baby.
‘Fuck, so let me get this right – you think that Daniel found out about his girlfriend’s affair and her pregnancy? And do you think, that day on the Heath, that he recognised Laurence as her lover?’
‘There’s every chance,’ I say. ‘Perhaps seeing Laurence there on Parliament Hill Fields was the final straw. Daniel might have thought that Laurence was taunting him. And so he took the ultimate revenge – he killed Victoria, along with the child she was carrying. And that would also explain why Laurence didn’t want to acknowledge the fact he was there on the Heath that day.’
‘Obviously there’s the video, but do you have any other proof? That Laurence was Victoria’s lover or that he was the one who got her pregnant?’
‘No, not yet,’ I reply. ‘But I intend to get it.’