Just Like the Other Girls - Claire Douglas Page 0,112

cracked. It must be a burner phone. What kind of shit is Arlo involved in?

Why did I rip apart the tape? Now Arlo will know I’ve seen what’s inside. It might not be what I think it is. I slip the phone into the bag and put it back where I found it. A noise on the stairwell makes me jump.

I hear the key in the lock and I slam the airing-cupboard door and rush into the kitchen to make a black coffee.

Arlo is whistling to himself as he walks in, more dishevelled than ever. His hair is long and messy and there is a rip in the arm of his parka. He starts when he notices me. ‘What are you doing here?’ He doesn’t sound pleased to see me. He has a holdall on him, which he chucks onto the sofa. My eyes flick towards it, and I wonder what’s inside. More money? Drugs? Is my brother involved in something illegal?

We had an unconventional childhood, growing up in the commune, and normal rules didn’t seem to apply to us. Arlo, some of the other kids and I were home-schooled. The rest of the time we were able to run wild through the many acres of fields, helping out on the farm at weekends. It was idyllic in lots of ways but Arlo in particular seemed to struggle in his late teens, especially with authority. As a result he never lasts long in a job. Not that I’m one to talk. But Arlo has always said he wants me to make something of myself, have a secure future after our childhood. He’d acknowledge he’s a bit of a fuck-up. ‘But you,’ he’d say, his voice sad, ‘have your head screwed on right.’

‘I left the McKenzie house,’ I say.

He rubs his hand across his chin. He doesn’t look like he’s shaved for days. ‘What? Why?’

‘Because something weird is going on there, that’s why. I don’t want to be their next victim.’

‘For fuck’s sake,’ he mutters, under his breath, as he pushes past me to get to the fridge. When he sees it’s practically empty he closes it again. ‘You had a good thing going there. You’re mental. I’ve told you before you can’t rely on me. I’ve got nothing.’ He was furious when I admitted I’d dropped out of uni and equally annoyed when I told him I was going to India for a few months. I feel like I’ve continuously disappointed him since Mum died.

‘I know it was well paid, but –’

‘And now you’ve fucked it up.’

I feel a rising sense of indignation. ‘No, I didn’t. Two, possibly three of my predecessors were murdered in that job.’

He sighs. His eyes are baggy and bloodshot. ‘We’ve talked about this.’

I tell him about finding Jemima’s passport hidden at Kathryn’s gallery.

He shrugs, unconcerned. ‘There could be many explanations.’ He slumps onto the sofa. He looks exhausted. ‘I’ve got a lot on my plate. I don’t need this.’

I sit beside him. He smells of stale smoke. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll sort something out. But can I stay just for a bit?’

‘You’re twenty years old. I can’t keep babysitting you.’

‘You’re not.’

‘I’ve been working all hours, putting in nights down at the factory. And you can’t even keep a job for five minutes.’

I hang my head in shame. Since Mum died I’ve just floundered. ‘I’ve saved up money at Elspeth’s. I can pay you rent.’

‘The flat is too small.’

‘Just for a few nights. I might go back to Bristol.’

He turns to look at me, his blue eyes intense. ‘I thought you got on with that Elspeth.’

‘I did. I think she liked me.’

His face brightens. ‘Then she’ll forgive you leaving. I think you should go back.’

‘But –’

‘You’re being ridiculous. An old woman can’t harm you. What do you expect her to do? Stab you in the night with her knitting needles?’

‘Well, no, but –’

‘And, okay, the daughter sounds a bit odd, but she doesn’t live there. Just be aware, that’s all. Don’t let her lure you onto the bridge like you reckon she did with the others.’

‘But Courtney thinks –’

‘Who the fuck is Courtney?’

‘She’s Una’s best friend. She was the one who told me I should be careful, that I should –’

He stands up, his face red and more animated than I’ve seen it since I arrived. ‘I don’t believe this. You’ve been listening to conspiracy theories. That’s messed up.’ His expression softens. ‘This was a good job. You had a beautiful place to live and a great