Una
‘Wait! So you’re saying she threatened you?’
Courtney sounds incredulous on the phone and I lower my voice even though it’s just me and Elspeth in the house and Elspeth went to bed over an hour ago. After the awkward experience in the café we went home and fell back into our usual routine, as though nothing had happened. I made sure not to ask any more questions, just listened when Elspeth wanted to talk, my heart lifting when she suggested we begin our crocheting. As we worked she opened up to me, about her husband Huw and how adrift she’d felt after he died, although she didn’t mention Viola. ‘You know, you spend so long with someone that you’re not even sure if you love them in the end or if it’s just companionship,’ she’d said cryptically. ‘It was the done thing back then. Marry and have children. If I had my time again, my choices might have been different.’ She didn’t elaborate and I felt I couldn’t ask. And then she changed the subject, telling me she had theatre tickets for a play at the Hippodrome that evening. It was a bit stuffy, but Elspeth enjoyed it and it was good to have an opportunity to dress up. I tried to look as conservative as possible in black trousers and a satin shirt. She ordered a taxi to drop us off at the entrance and I was surprised when we were shown to our seats in one of the boxes, with a great view of the stage.
‘I don’t know,’ I reply, moving a pile of clothes I’d discarded earlier to the end of the bed. ‘It did sound a bit threatening but she’s been lovely to me since.’ I tell her about the crocheting and the play. I lie back against the headboard. The curtains are closed, the only light coming from my bedside lamp. ‘Why would you deny your daughter’s existence?’
‘I don’t like the sound of that woman. Maybe you should move back in here. Get your old job back.’
I sigh. ‘I need the money. And you have Kris living with you now. Anyway, she’s harmless enough. I mean, she’s old. She’s not exactly a threat, is she? I’m not saying she murdered Jemima or anything. When she wants to be, she can be really kind.’ Although she still hasn’t given me my T-shirt back. When Carole – a short, dark-haired woman in her forties – came in to clean yesterday I asked her if she’d washed it and she didn’t seem to know what I was talking about.
‘Still, you have to admit it’s odd that both of the girls who worked there before you are now dead. The McKenzies could be like some Mafia family and the girls had found things out about them.’ She puts on a rubbish Marlon Brando voice: ‘Don’t go asking questions.’
I laugh. ‘Maybe they’ve got dodgy business dealings or are doing some money laundering. Whatever it is, I couldn’t care less. I was just being nosy about her daughter.’
‘You couldn’t care less if they’re involved in something criminal? Christ, Una.’
I cross, then uncross my ankles, noticing a hole in the knee of my pyjamas. ‘I’m only joking. Of course they aren’t criminals.’
‘Maybe they’re psychopaths, luring girls into their lair and killing them. You have heard of the Craigslist murders, right?’
I sit up. ‘What? No.’
‘This psychopath guy put an advert on Craigslist, advertising for lonely single men to come and work on his ranch. When they arrived he hunted them. Actually shot them like they were deer.’
‘Where was this?’
‘In America somewhere.’
‘So what are you saying? Elspeth is putting adverts in a newspaper for a companion only so she can kill her?’ I laugh. ‘Do you know how ludicrous that sounds? Matilde was here for two years before the accident. And, okay, Jemima was only here for a few months but …’ I shake my freshly washed hair and a wet tendril hits me in the eye. ‘No. It’s crazy.’
‘The Craigslist murders are true. These things happen. There are some right weirdos out there. You’d be surprised. I see many of them in the hair salon.’ She chuckles at her own joke but then she sobers up again. ‘Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying.’
‘Kathryn and Elspeth aren’t secret psychos. I think Elspeth has trust issues and she’s obviously got a chip on her shoulder about her elder daughter for some reason. She’s just very private. And I shouldn’t have been asking questions anyway.’
‘Jeez, you’re entitled to ask questions. Who told you about Viola?’
‘The cook, Aggie.’
‘Hmm … Kris, get off me, I’m on the phone …’ There’s a rustling sound and then Courtney says, ‘Sorry about that. Kris is being a twat. He’s gone out now. Band practice.’
‘How is living together working out?’
She groans. ‘Okay. I suppose. Are you coming out tomorrow night? The usual place. Vince will be there but that’s okay, isn’t it? He said you two are friends now. He’s really sorry for the way he acted, you know.’
‘Courtney …’
‘I know you can never go back there. He fucked you over. I know.’
I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat, wishing I could go back. To before Mum got ill, to before Vince ‘fucked me over’, as Courtney so eloquently put it. I blink back tears. But, of course, I can’t. This is my life now and I have to get on with it.
We hang up, promising to see each other tomorrow night, and I lie on the bed for a few minutes. I get up and, to be on the safe side, I lock my bedroom door.