Just Like the Other Girls - Claire Douglas Page 0,74
me like she’s seen a ghost.
27
Courtney
Courtney stares at this woman, this imposter, in shock. She’s wholly aware she’s being unprofessional but she can’t seem to find her voice. She can’t stop looking at her. She should have seen it straight away. She looks like Una: same hair and bone structure. She doesn’t dress like Una, or sound like her, but she certainly resembles her physically. What was it Una had told her before? That the other companions had looked like her too. Bile rises in her throat when she remembers the conversations with her best friend and she has to swallow it. It burns in her chest.
‘Are you okay?’ the girl, Willow, asks, touching her newly coloured hair self-consciously. ‘Is there something wrong with my hair?’
Courtney swallows the golf-ball-sized lump in her throat. ‘No, sorry, it’s all … It looks good. W-where did you say you worked again?’ She had been half listening when Willow first sat down and started talking about her job. But now … now that she’s been transformed in front of her very eyes, she remembers snatches of the conversation. Elderly lady. Uptight daughter. Companion. She can’t be … can she?
Willow frowns and stands up, her black gown billowing around her like a cape. Courtney knows she should take it from her but instead she places her hands on Willow’s shoulders and forces her back into the seat. She leans forwards so that Tamsin, on her right, can’t hear her. ‘Is your employer Elspeth McKenzie by any chance?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’ She looks annoyed, unsurprisingly, thinks Courtney, considering she’s just manhandled her client and is keeping her prisoner in the chair.
Courtney’s heart is racing. She hadn’t noticed it when the girl first came in. But now … the resemblance to Una is breathtaking.
‘Have you ever heard of a Una Richardson?’
She can tell Willow is swallowing her impatience. ‘No. No, I haven’t. Should I have?’
‘She worked for Elspeth before you. She was …’ She gulps. ‘She was my best friend.’
Now she’s got Willow’s attention. She sits up straighter in the chair, her eyes locking with Courtney’s in the mirror. ‘Was?’
‘She died.’ It still feels wrong to say it. She’ll never get used to it.
‘Died?’
She takes a deep breath, aware she’s going to sound crazy. But Willow deserves to know what she’s letting herself in for. ‘She died last month while she was still employed by the McKenzies.’
Willow fidgets in her chair. ‘But … nobody’s mentioned this at all.’
‘And she’s not the first. The first companion was a girl called Matilde. She lasted two years. She died in an apparent hit-and-run last summer. The second girl, Jemima, arrived in October. By Christmas she was dead. Suicide. And now Una …’ Her best friend’s name catches in Courtney’s throat on the end of a sob. She composes herself. She can’t cry. She needs to take action. ‘She texted me, just before it happened, to tell me she was meeting Peter – Jemima’s brother – on the bridge. Peter, apparently, didn’t believe his sister would have taken her own life. It wasn’t until the next morning that Una was found. The police think she’d bashed her head on the ground after falling because it was foggy … It was foggy that night, you see. And cold. She died of hypothermia while unconscious.’
And she can’t prove it, but Courtney knows. She knows with all her heart that Una hadn’t just fallen on the bridge in the fog and banged her head. She’d gone out to meet someone – to meet Peter. Courtney had told the police all this. She’d ranted at them about Kathryn and Elspeth, and about Jemima and the bag, when she’d got to the hospital that day, but the police had looked at her as though she’d gone insane. And, of course, Kathryn denied the existence of a bag and this Peter Freeman denied the existence of any text messages to Una. And now Una was dead. Her best friend, the girl she’d grown up with, gone to school with, laughed with, lived with, was dead, her life, the essence of her, snuffed out in an instant. The girl who was kind, funny, who hated social media, who was private, who loved spreading butter on Rich Tea biscuits, who was a bit ditzy, who had never learnt to ride a bike, who wanted to see the world – gone. And everyone expected life to go back to normal when she, Courtney, knew her death was no accident.