Of course, she won’t have any evidence that I’m responsible for Zach’s death, but it doesn’t look good that I never came forward. But then neither did she.
This certainly helps explain the real reason for her tracking me down. When she told me she was there that night, of course I wondered if she might have seen me, but I had to bide my time. I had to wait to see what she would do, and always ensure I was one step ahead of her.
She wanted justice for Josie, and I was the one who had to pay. Perhaps she hoped I would confess, but her mental illness really obscured her judgement because she didn’t bargain on me pointing the blame at her.
It’s Dominic I feel sorry for. He knew she was troubled, but had no idea to what extent. It’s just sad that half of everything Alison said was actually true, and the rest she said only to catch me out. That’s why she initially tried to make out that Dominic was abusive, that he had something to do with Josie’s death. Everything she said, and did, was to set a trap for me. I’m still not quite sure what she hoped to achieve by claiming Dominic had something to do with Josie’s death, but it must have been an attempt to throw me off the scent. She didn’t want me to think she suspected me of anything. Not until she was ready to confront me.
What a tangled web we have woven. But at least now I have my closure. No more panic attacks. I am safe.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Josie
* * *
It’s my birthday today but nobody knows that. They don’t even know how old I really am because I’ve added on two extra years, just to make sure nobody can track me down. So now I’m twenty-eight, not twenty-six. But time no longer matters. Every day is the same, every minute identical to the one that’s gone before, and this is the way it will be for me forever. Josie Carpenter is dead, and now I am someone else, someone without the past she had. I’ve made sure of that.
Over five years it’s become easier to remember I’m no longer Josie, easier to say Joanne instead. Or Jo, just in case I start to slip up. I had to pick something similar to Josie – it’s too easy to get caught off guard.
But no matter what I do, I will always be waiting for that knock on the door. The one that will tell me it’s all over. My time is up.
I’m not sure why I chose Cornwall to be my home – perhaps, after being in Brighton for so long, I needed to be near the sea again. There’s something about it that makes me feel free, as if I could just dive into the water and keep on swimming at any moment. The sea can take me anywhere I want to go.
‘Hey, Jo!’ Someone on the other side of the road calls my name. My head flicks up, but it’s only Alfie, the elderly man who lives further down my street. He’s out for his usual morning walk with his dog, just as I am, and he crosses over to greet us, a huge smile on his face. He has no idea how such a small thing can do so much to lift my spirits.
‘How’s she doing today?’ He leans down to give Pepper a stroke.
‘Hot, I think. She’s got too much fur.’
He laughs even though what I’ve said isn’t really funny. But maybe that’s just me – it’s hard to find anything funny any more.
Pepper starts to jump up and begins excitedly sniffing Boxer. I pull her away and apologise, even though it’s the same every time the two of us bump into each other when we’re walking our dogs.
Pepper is good company for me, but I really got her for Kieren. I got him the dog he always wanted. I still live in hope that one day I’ll see my little brother again, even though I know the chances of that are slim.
He’ll be ten now. Ten years old and I have no idea what he looks like. What his favourite colour is, or whether he can ride a bike. I have no idea what Liv is like with him as he grows older, but I pray he at least has the courage to stand up to her, just like he will have seen me doing.
But one day I’ll know all about him. I can’t let Zach’s death be for nothing. Something good has to come out of something so terrible.
‘Are you okay, Jo?’ Alfie says. ‘You’ve gone a bit pale.’
I snap to attention. ‘Oh, yeah, just a bit dehydrated, I think. This heat! It’s too much, isn’t it?’ I have always preferred the icy-cold sharpness of winter.
‘Yep, it sure is. Hey, listen to us – we moan when we don’t get any sun then when we do actually get some we complain about how we can’t take it! No pleasing us, is there?’ He chuckles and I almost want to reach out and hug him. He is a kind man, proof that good, decent people do actually exist in this world. People like Zach.
We say our goodbyes and Alfie crosses back over the road, heading towards his house.
I watch him walk away and it doesn’t feel real. Nothing I see or do these days ever does. But that’s because I’m no longer real.
As I head off in the direction of the beach, with Pepper marching in front of me, I think about Zach, as I do every day, and once again I tell him I’m sorry. There are so many things I have to apologise to him for: being unable to hide my feelings for him, drawing him into my life, leaving him in my flat while I ran away. Not to mention the worst one of all: making it look as though I’d been killed, spilling my blood everywhere so that it was more convincing.
I had to disappear, Zach, I’m sorry.
On the beach I let Pepper off the lead and sit down, pulling my notebook and pen from my bag. I scribble some notes for my next chapter while my only companion hurtles across the sand, chasing after her ball.
Every word I write is for Zach, to prove that he wasn’t wrong about me; that I can make something of myself. I didn’t get to finish university, but one day I will take up my studies again. Finish what I started. And in the meantime, when my book’s finished, I plan to get it published. At least this is what I tell myself. But the reality is that I can never admit to anyone who I really am, or go public with what happened, because I committed an awful crime.
Tears splatter onto my notebook, blurring the words I’ve just written. Perhaps today nothing more will come. No more inspiration. I have days like that. But then I just move on to the next.
I pull out my phone instead and Google my name, just as I do every day, to check whether anything new has been discovered. I tried not to do this at first, five years ago, but it ate me up inside that I didn’t know what was happening in the outside world, what Josie Carpenter’s presumed fate was. So I gave in and checked, and now every day it is my morning ritual, along with this walk to the beach with Pepper.
There’s been nothing new for so long that for a second I think my mind is playing tricks on me when I see the article. Alison Frances has been arrested and held for questioning. I read every word, my body heating up, feeling like I will explode any moment.
Police have arrested Alison in connection with my disappearance. Apparently she was stalking Zach’s wife, and they now think Alison is the one who killed me and hid my body.
I feel sick to my stomach but carry on reading. Apparently Alison has suffered some sort of breakdown, so they haven’t been able to get anything out of her, other than her claims that it was Zach’s wife who killed him – not suicide, as they’d originally suspected.
My pulse races and it’s a struggle to stay calm. What does this mean? Why would Alison think Zach’s wife had anything to do with it? I’ve never believed that Zach committed suicide; I have always thought it was me who did that to him. But is there any chance I’ve been wrong all this time?
I have never been able to come to terms with doing that to him. I was a hardcore drinker in those days, but I never once blacked out to the point where I didn’t remember what I’d done. And surely doing something so dreadful as killing someone would have to come back to you, even in stages? My excitement grows as I consider the possibility that I may have been wrong. That I may be innocent.