she’d got it wrong and he was soon released, but not before the details had leaked to local press and he’d been hounded. I remembered she was almost as traumatised by her mistake as she was by the incident itself.
The temperature around me seemed to drop and I tugged the duvet up over my knees. As our conversation played out, it soon became clear that Lorna didn’t speak much about the rest of her life. The odd reference to her mum – they seemed close – but no mention of boyfriends, nothing about college. I sank lower on the pillows. It wasn’t adding a lot to what I already knew. After my late night last night, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. In the end, I drifted off to sleep with Lorna’s voice still speaking softly in my ears.
Over breakfast the next morning, I listened to the rest of Lorna’s first tape. Then I referred to the notes I’d taken about the suspects in her murder enquiry.
One of the men interviewed was Neville Larch. He was brought in when Lorna’s family drew their attention to a spate of recent incidents designed to taunt her. They’d started after the line-up. And after local papers had done a fine job of smearing Neville Larch’s name.
Her tape revealed that Larch had turned up at her flat once in Parson’s Green, shouting and swearing at her. Other ‘odd’ things had happened at that time too: a padded envelope containing chicken bones had been posted through her letterbox and a tin of red paint poured through onto the carpet. She also mentioned that a voodoo doll complete with pins had been left on her windowsill. She’d even brought it in to show me.
‘Have you been to the police with these things?’ came my voice on the tape.
‘There’s no point really. I threw out the envelope with the bones without thinking and there was no tin with the paint for fingerprints. The doll with the pins, well, it’s just silly. There’s no proof. Mum said we should tell the police, but it’s only my word against his and I’ve put him through enough already. I should never have picked him out in the line-up, but… I was so certain at the time.’
I remember suggesting she had every right to report him, but then I backed off. I was her therapist. There was no actual crime. It wasn’t my job to force her into anything.
Another van driver was charged soon after the collision and the bottom line was that Neville Larch was in the clear right across the board. With an alibi for the day Lorna was killed and no DNA at the crime scene to contradict it, he’d walked free.
37
After our next run that evening, I suggested to Emily that we go for a drink. ‘Unless you think it spoils the hearty workout we’ve just had?’
‘No way. I’d love to,’ she said, flicking back her long raisin-black hair. ‘I’m not a health freak, just love being fit.’
‘Good. I need something to take my mind off the aches and pains.’ I rolled my tight shoulders. ‘I knew my body would make a fuss after a day or two.’
‘You’re not going soft on me, are you?’ she said with a grin, nudging my arm.
‘No way.’
I suggested a small pub off the main high street, only a few minutes from my flat. It was less rowdy than many in my area and the bar staff let you taste their guest beers before buying. Emily had mentioned she had a weakness for real ales, so it seemed ideal.
We stood at the bar when we arrived and tested a selection of brews with names like Malten Lava and Ray of Hop. Surprisingly, we were unanimous in our choices and carried away four half-pint glasses on a sticky black tray.
‘Fancy table football?’ Emily asked as we trawled the place for a seat.
‘I’m not very good.’
‘Neither am I. But it’s fun.’
In fact, Emily should have said, I’m an expert – and I’ll beat you hands down, because as soon as we started, her competitive streak came to the fore. Eleven-nil. I should have seen it coming.
Mercifully, she called it a day before it got too embarrassing and we grabbed a couple of stray stools in the main bar.
‘How are you getting on at the art project?’ I asked. ‘Given any self-defence classes yet?’
‘Just one. It was full, so it’s a great start.’ She glanced down, looking a little self-conscious. ‘It’s a