Just Like the Other Girls - Claire Douglas Page 0,87

furniture and photos of horses or farmland on the tobacco-stained walls are the same.

‘How do you know what he looks like?’ asks Kris, in a loud whisper, as they head for the bar.

‘Um. Maybe because he’ll be the only other young person in here.’

Kris laughs and pulls an oh-yes-silly-me face.

A quick scan of the pub reveals that Peter is yet to arrive so they order their drinks – a glass of house white that tastes like vinegar for Courtney and a beer for Kris – and settle themselves at a table by the door.

Every time the door opens Courtney looks up expectantly, her heart in her mouth. Why does she feel so nervous? She’s not sure if it’s making her feel better or worse having Kris in tow. He’s wittering away about a new song the band are writing, completely oblivious to her discomfort. Eventually when the door opens again, she sees a young guy walk in, wearing a yellow coat. Her first thought is that he’s tall, the second that he’s handsome. And as this crosses her mind her stomach flips. At five foot seven herself she’s always found tall men particularly attractive. Kris is only two inches taller than her. He strides towards them. ‘Hi. Courtney?’ He holds out a hand uncertainly.

She stands up and shakes it. ‘Peter? Hi. This is Kris.’ She leaves out that he’s her boyfriend, indicating vaguely in his direction instead. Kris is slouched over his pint and barely looks up. Courtney offers Peter a drink but he insists on getting his own, and when he returns, he perches on the chair between them, his knees almost to his chest.

‘Thanks for meeting me at such short notice,’ he says, with a ghost of a smile. He glances at Kris, then back to Courtney. ‘And I’m so sorry about your friend. She was kind to me and tried to help me when she didn’t have to.’

‘I’m sorry about your sister,’ Courtney says.

He shuffles in his seat. ‘I don’t know how much Una told you …’

‘Everything,’ Courtney says bluntly.

‘Did she tell you about me turning up?’

Courtney nods. ‘She told me you didn’t believe Jemima would kill herself. And now I understand how you feel because I don’t believe Una’s death was an accident.’

He dips his head solemnly. ‘I’ve talked to the police and they don’t think Jemima and Una’s deaths are related.’

Courtney tuts loudly. ‘I don’t get it. She had a text from someone pretending to be you asking her to meet them on the bridge. Why don’t the police believe that?’

He shrugs, looking apologetic. ‘I know I didn’t send that message but I feel responsible. If I hadn’t got her involved …’

Kris grunts and they turn to look at him.

‘What?’ says Courtney.

He shakes his head. ‘Nothing.’

Courtney narrows her eyes at him. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. She doesn’t understand why he bothered to come. She turns back to Peter. ‘Una told me about Jemima’s necklace. And about how you said she was seeing someone before she died. She tried to find out who but never had the chance …’ A lump forms in Courtney’s throat and she takes a large swig of wine to wash it away, then has to resist the urge to cough.

‘Una left a voicemail on my phone that night. Said she had something to tell me.’

‘It must have been about the bag.’

‘The bag?’

‘Jemima’s holdall. It was in the cellar. Una found it and was convinced Kathryn had put it there. She also said that the cook, Aggie, heard Kathryn and Jemima arguing on the night Jemima left. Una said Aggie had been freaked out by the bag, too, and urged Una to report it to the police. I’ve since reported it but the bag is now missing, so it’s my word against theirs.’

‘The daughter, Kathryn, is hiding something, I’m sure of it,’ says Peter, his eyes flashing. ‘The necklace … Why did she pretend she was going to post it to Jemima when she never had a forwarding address? Why did she have all her stuff in their cellar?’

Courtney opens her mouth to say something and Kris emits a bark of laughter.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says when they both swivel around to glare at him. ‘But this is just one big conspiracy theory. If the police think their deaths are not suspicious why are you two acting like bloody …’ he pauses, and Courtney can almost see his brain ticking overtime, trying to think of someone to compare them