One good lie, p.19
One Good Lie, page 19
‘It was early.’
‘You need to be more careful.’
She was beginning to wish she hadn’t told him about the second phone call. This new overprotective stance didn’t suit him at all.
‘So, was Sophie there?’
She glanced behind. A man sat on the bench reading a newspaper. A woman in a suit was checking her mobile – other passengers waiting to board the incoming train. She lowered her voice. ‘Sophie dropped off the kids as normal.’ It was strange, watching her sister from afar. Clandestine. She suppressed a shudder. ‘She looked fine.’
‘Doesn’t sound like she’s your night caller then. And why would she withhold her number anyway, she’d want you to know it was her.’
‘I don’t know. Maybe if she’d used a different phone.’ All night, the suggestion of Sophie, potentially in trouble or in danger, had bounced around her head like a string of stray bullets. She’d contemplated driving over there, although the caller hadn’t given her any reason to suggest they were Sophie, and her sister certainly wouldn’t welcome the intrusion – especially with the distance between them. ‘I felt bloody ridiculous to be honest. Stalking my own sister.’
‘It can’t be a coincidence,’ he said. ‘Two calls, two nights in a row. You don’t think it’s Colin, do you?’
Ruby started. ‘No. Why would he?’
‘He called you yesterday.’
‘Yeah, and he spoke. Whatever Colin is, whatever he’s done, I don’t think he’d try to frighten me.’ She paused. ‘You don’t think it’s Ewan, do you? Trying to intimidate me?’
‘I can’t see what he’s got to gain. He’s already put space between you and Sophie.’
‘Perhaps his sister’s been in touch and told him she’s meeting me.’
‘Hmm. Sounds unlikely from what you’ve told me about her. Anyway, I doubt he’d think a passive-aggressive phone call would stop you.’
‘I can’t think who else it might be.’ The only other person was Bridget. Her aunt had been on her way out when she’d called earlier and didn’t have time to talk. But she sounded okay and gave no indication it was her.
Lewis looked troubled. ‘Why don’t you contact the police? They might be able to trace the owner of the phone. You could tell them about the other stuff too.’
‘I’ll think about it.’ A couple of phone calls sounded like a minor issue, especially when they were dealing with a murder inquiry. The caller hadn’t made any threats. It could even be a mistake. And as for the other stuff, it was all so superficial. A feeling, a shadow. They’d probably think she’d lost it. She was beginning to wonder herself.
A chilling wind whistled along the platform as the train pulled into Market Deeton station. It was 10:20 a.m. The morning rush was well and truly over, the carriages half empty. Memories of her last trip to London, a meeting with one of their regular corporate clients, came to mind. Travelling during rush hour for an early appointment, being squashed against the door for the hour or so’s trip. At least they wouldn’t have to stand today.
They boarded the train and wandered through the carriages, looking for a seat where Lewis could stretch out his long legs. They passed a man in a suit who didn’t look up from his laptop. A couple of middle-aged women engrossed in their chatter. Eventually, they found a quiet table in the corner and Lewis slipped into a seat opposite her.
They were wrestling off their jackets when a sleeping toddler with pink cheeks draped across the lap of a woman diagonally opposite caught Ruby’s eye. The child plucked a heartstring. Daisy was always falling asleep on buses, cars and trains at that tender age. Ruby placed her bag at her feet. Daisy and Alfie would be running around the playground on their morning break now. It had only been a few days since she’d seen them, but the absence of their quirky little faces and funny stories pained her. The world was so different to the young. So uncomplicated.
Lewis pulled a pair of earphones out of his pocket and connected them to his phone as the train pulled out of the station.
Ruby smiled to herself. He’d read her mood, could tell she wasn’t up for chit chat and she couldn’t be more grateful. ‘What’s on the playlist?’ she asked.
‘Green Day, The Killers. Think there’s a bit of vintage INXS on there too.’ He offered her an earphone. ‘Happy to move over there if you want to share.’
‘No, thanks.’
She watched him insert the earpieces, lean back and close his eyes. A tinny musical beat leaked out.
The sleeping child brought another memory to the fore. Of her and Sophie throwing a sheet over their mother’s dining-room table, pretending they were staying in a tent on holiday in Norfolk. Gathering pots and pans from the kitchen to cook. Bringing buckets and spades down from their bedrooms and using the front-room rug as a make-believe beach. Eventually there was so much stuff beneath the table, there was barely any room for them to sit.
She smiled. It was always Norfolk. Money was tight when they were young and every year their mother and Bridget pooled resources and rented a caravan during the first two weeks of the summer holidays. ‘It’s important to get away and give yourself a break,’ Bridget used to say.
Ruby could almost taste the salty sea air, hear the gulls gliding overhead amidst a cloudless sky, the tide withdrawing as they clambered about the beach, furiously digging channels in the sand.
Brakes squeaked as they jolted to a stop at the next station. A man in a plaid shirt slung a rucksack over his back, narrowly missing Ruby, as he alighted. She pulled her phone out of her bag. No new messages. Kat would have gone through her diary at work by now and either taken over or rescheduled her appointments. She was such a good friend; she needed to find a way to thank her. She made a mental note to arrange to take her out for dinner at the weekend.
The train pulled off again. Ruby glanced back at her phone and switched to Google, searching Market Deeton news. She was scrolling through Deeton Mail posts when a familiar face graced the screen. She clicked on the article. His hair was thinner and tiny lines of grey streaked the chestnut sides, but she was in no doubt it was Charlotte Manning’s father. He’d given a live interview. She scrabbled about in her bag for her earphones and plugged them in.
The footage was short, less than thirty seconds. Nigel Manning’s sunken cheeks were pale, as if he hadn’t slept in a week. A layer of grey stubble covered his chin. He talked about his daughter’s alternative lifestyle, mentioned the difficulties they’d faced after losing her mother so young. How much he loved her and had devoted the last year to finding her. A tear rolled down his cheek when he spoke of the moment he was told of her death.
‘Twenty-one stab wounds,’ he said. Twenty-one stab wounds. Somebody must have noticed something – perhaps a loved one had returned with blood stains or had been displaying unusual behaviour. He implored any witnesses to contact the police, for anyone with information or who might have seen anything, however insignificant, to come forward, then swiped the tear from his cheek.
The footage ended.
It was a powerful appeal: emotional and raw. As Ruby played it through again, she felt the sting of his pain, the hollow void in his life. All those years he’d painstakingly spent helping his daughter, trying to get her life back in order, now slipping through his fingers like sand.
Darkness surrounded them as they entered a tunnel. Ruby sat back, staring into space. Sophie had mentioned something about Ewan feeling down after Charlotte’s murder. Why? He claimed he’d never met Charlotte…
‘Penny for them?’ They’d emerged from the tunnel. Lewis had plucked an earphone from his ear and was staring straight at her.
She handed over her phone and Lewis played the footage. His face turned sad as he watched it.
‘Poor bugger,’ he said when it finished. He handed the phone back.
‘I can’t help wondering if there’s some connection, you know,’ she said. ‘Between Charlotte and my mum.’
‘You heard the police. They’re treating the incidents separately.’
‘What if they’re wrong?’
Lewis shrugged.
Ruby pushed the thoughts aside. For the next hour, she looked out of the window and forced herself to watch the world trundling by. Flashbacks of her mum and her sister rushing in and out of her mind. Them both clapping wildly at her graduation ceremony. Of them all at the hospital together for her niece’s birth. Of the surprise party they’d thrown for her mother’s fortieth. Her family. Where had it all gone wrong?
Eventually, open fields gave way to buildings and warehouses. A voice filled the train, announcing St Pancras as their next stop. It was almost eleven thirty. They were early, but no matter. Plenty of time to find the café and prepare herself.
Chapter 46
St Elms tea shop was a quaint affair, sandwiched between a boutique and a chemist, with lace curtains edging the front window and less than a dozen tables inside covered in pink and white gingham tablecloths. A glass counter at the back of the café showed off flamboyantly decorated three-tiered cakes.
The clock on the wall read a few minutes to three. Lewis had helped Ruby find the place and then gone off shopping and, now she was alone, her pulse was accelerating at a rate of knots. Over the last couple of days, she’d placed so much emphasis on speaking with Ewan’s sister that her nerves were starting to crystallise into a hard lump in her chest.
From her table beside the window, she watched the street outside. Burlington Row was a busy street, with a constant stream of traffic and pedestrians passing. She swallowed the last dregs of coffee in her mug. The café had filled over the last half an hour. A man with dreadlocks sat at the counter, reading on his phone. A woman and two small children occupied a table in the centre. A businessman in an open-necked shirt stared at the screen of a laptop at the table beside her.
Another glance at the clock. It was now three. Ruby chewed at the side of her thumbnail. The traffic outside was at a standstill. A taxi driver got out of his cab and moved to talk to the car behind. No sooner did he reach the driver than the line of cars in front moved. Ruby watched him run back to his cab and climb in. Horns blasted down the road. She was concentrating so hard on what was going on in the street, she almost missed the petite young woman with cropped dark hair and spectacles push open the door.
Their eyes met briefly. She was young and pretty and dressed in a navy trouser suit – not at all how Ruby had imagined Ewan’s sister. But she caught Ruby’s gaze and instantly approached her table.
‘Hello, Ruby,’ she said warily.
She’s looked me up online, Ruby thought. Recognised me from one of the many photos on Facebook or Instagram.
Ruby stood and shook her hand. ‘You must be Isla. Thank you for coming.’
They shuffled into chairs facing each other.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Ruby said.
‘Thank you. Flat white, no sugar.’ She spoke with a thick Glaswegian accent, much stronger than Ewan’s, and there was a slight hiss when she used an ‘s’.
Ruby nodded and moved to the counter, ordering herself another latte at the same time. When she returned to the table, the young woman was checking her phone.
Isla was olive-skinned and well-groomed. Large owl-like eyes glanced up from her phone as Ruby sat.
‘You don’t look like your brother,’ Ruby said.
‘He’s only my half-brother. I’m from my mother’s second marriage. There are nine years between us.’
‘I hadn’t realised. You share the same name.’
‘He was given my late father’s surname by judge’s consent when Mum married Dad and they moved to Glasgow.’ That explained the difference in accent.
‘I see. What brings you to London?’ Ruby asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
‘I’ve been on a training course with work. They’re updating their software.’
She didn’t say what her work was, but her attire indicated something corporate. Yet another thing she didn’t have in common with her brother.
‘You said your sister is dating Ewan.’
A slim woman with blue hair tied into teddy bear ears and a nose ring arrived with their coffees. Ruby thanked her and waited until she’d retreated to the counter before she answered. ‘Yes, she’s been seeing him for about a year.’
‘And where’s this?’ Isla asked.
Ruby balked. They might have been estranged, but it hadn’t crossed her mind that Ewan’s sister wouldn’t even know where he was living. ‘Market Deeton, Leicestershire.’
‘Ah.’ She leaned forward, taking her time to stir her coffee, but didn’t expand.
‘He told Sophie, my sister, he came down from Glasgow in search of work.’
‘He would say that, wouldn’t he?’
Ruby wasn’t sure how to answer. She decided to ignore the question. ‘And… well, we know so little of his background. I was wondering if you—’
‘Has something happened?’
‘Not exactly. It’s just—’
‘What?’ The interruption was harsh, direct.
The words clawed at Ruby. She needed to be careful. Ewan’s argument with his sister could be perfectly normal, his intentions to Sophie honourable, if a little controlling. She could have made a mistake. ‘Until I contacted you, I hadn’t realised you weren’t speaking,’ she said.
Isla snorted. ‘I’m not surprised. He usually tells people he has no family. That we are all dead.’
We. The word sent a shiver down Ruby’s spine. ‘We’ implied numbers. Ewan had never mentioned anyone other than her. ‘Why would he say that?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘I’d like to hear it.’
Isla studied her nails. They were short and neat and unpainted. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Please.’ Ruby grappled to find the right words. ‘I’m concerned for my sister. We lost our mother suddenly last year.’ She cleared her throat. Now it was she who didn’t want to share the finer details. ‘She’s fragile.’
Another silence. A muscle flexed in Isla’s jaw. ‘If she’s fragile, then she needs to get away from my brother.’ The accent grew stronger as she became agitated.
Ruby felt the saliva in her mouth evaporate. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean he’s bad news.’
The door of the café flapped open and an Asian woman entered, bringing with her a rush of cool air.
Isla watched her take a seat at the table beside them. She gazed at the untouched coffee, shifted uncomfortably in her chair and glanced back at the door. ‘This is a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.’
‘What?’ Ruby shot forward. ‘No, please don’t go.’
‘I don’t think I’m the right person to help you.’
‘Tell me why you aren’t in contact any more.’
Another shifty look at the door. What was she afraid of?
‘Please! I don’t want to lose my sister too,’ Ruby pressed.
A beat passed. Isla surveyed her a second and Ruby wasn’t sure if it was her pleading or the desperation in her voice, but the woman’s face softened. ‘You need to tell your sister. He’s one of the bad guys. I’m surprised she hasn’t found that out already.’
Frustration was gnawing at Ruby now. ‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s not nice to women. I don’t know where he gets it from, our parents were never like him – God rest their souls. He’s got a nasty streak, that one.’
‘Has he hurt someone?’
‘I shouldn’t be talking about this.’
‘Can you at least tell me why you are estranged?’
Isla’s face slackened. ‘Loads of reasons. I mean, this sounds awful, but I don’t think I ever liked him as such. Yeah, he’s charming, but he’s also got a temper and he can be cruel.’
She recalled the argument with Sophie on Sunday, the way he’d turned the tables on her. She hadn’t stood a chance. The welt on Sophie’s wrist came to mind. ‘Has he hurt anyone?’ Ruby repeated.
‘Not as far as I know. Look, it’s not what you think. He’s dangerous and manipulative. You should really be talking to Heather.’
‘Heather?’
‘Ewan’s wife.’
Wife? Ruby felt blindsided. He’d never said he’d been married.
‘Ay, I see he’s not mentioned her either. I’m not surprised. I can’t believe he left those wee ones though. They’re such lovely kids.’
Wee ones. This was worse than she’d thought. ‘Please. You need to explain to me what you mean.’
‘I don’t want to get involved.’
‘Just tell me, what did you mean by dangerous and manipulative?’
Isla shook her head. ‘I can’t do this.’
‘What about Heather? Maybe she…’
Her face froze. ‘The last thing she needs is him poking his nose back in. She’s worked hard to rebuild her life with those children.’
Ruby was taken aback. She didn’t know what to say.
‘Look, Ewan has a wandering eye. He always had, ever since he was young. He builds a relationship with someone, then delights in breaking them down, peeling away the layers. Removing every friend, every family member, anyone close. He did it with Maggie, then dropped her like a stone when he met Heather. He plays mind games, cuts them away until they have nothing apart from him. Heather even gave up her job in the end. I was at uni for most of the time they were together. I didn’t know Heather until afterwards, but I’m told she was a confident woman, worked at the tax office, had her own car, her own place when they got together. Worshipped the ground he walked on. When he left, she had nothing apart from the kids and the roof over their heads.’
Ruby pictured Sophie, her beautiful vulnerable sister and her heart shrank. For a moment she couldn’t speak. ‘When did you become estranged?’ she asked.
‘We’ve never been close. We stopped speaking after Heather. I couldn’t believe he’d treat someone like that.’
An idea crept into Ruby’s mind. ‘Did he ever mention a Charlotte Manning, at all?’ She knew it was a long shot, especially if they hadn’t spoken for some time. But it had to be worth a try.
