Just Like the Other Girls - Claire Douglas Page 0,78

want to tell you everything.’

‘I thought you’d already told me everything in the salon.’

‘Not quite. Not all the conversations that Una and I had about it and, believe me, there were many. I’ve been thinking about it a lot since I saw you this morning. I need to tell you everything as I remember it.’

So I listen as she recounts her conversations with Una. I picture my predecessor on the bed where I now sleep, chatting to her best friend on the phone, and feel overcome with sadness for Una, for this girl who was quite alone in the world, really, apart from her friends. When she’s finished I’ve learnt more about Kathryn, about a sister of hers called Viola, who hasn’t been seen in thirty years, and an argument Kathryn had with Jemima on the day Jemima walked out and apparently threw herself into the Avon Gorge.

‘So Una had a theory that Elspeth is still hung up on the daughter who ran away and that’s why she chooses young blonde women as companions?’ I ask, thinking it sounds like something from a Gothic novel.

She nods and sips her wine.

I find it fascinating that Elspeth is trying to replace her daughter. ‘Although,’ I wrinkle my nose, ‘wouldn’t Viola be nearly fifty by now?’

‘Yep. But I think Elspeth McKenzie is very fucked up and so is her adoptive daughter.’ Courtney raises her strong eyebrows. They’re actually a work of art. ‘Please be careful, that’s all I’m saying. I think they were involved in Una’s death but I don’t want to put you in danger.’

‘So, you think Kathryn lured Una onto the bridge that night by pretending to be Peter?’

Courtney nods. I notice she blinks back tears.

‘Okay. But would Kathryn have known about Jemima’s brother, this Peter guy?’

Courtney shuffles in her seat. A flash of irritation crosses her face that she doesn’t try to hide. ‘Yes, of course she would. Peter came to the house. Una went for coffee with him, then took him back to see Kathryn. So she knew exactly who he was and that he was in contact with Una. And it’s a bit too much of a coincidence, don’t you think? That Una died just after finding the bag of Jemima’s clothes? It proves that Kathryn was lying and that she knew Jemima hadn’t just done a runner. Una told me she took the bag up to her room to stop Kathryn coming back for it, but nothing has been seen of it since she died. I asked the police. They couldn’t find any bag. I think Kathryn lured her to the bridge, hit her over the head and left her there to die. I think she went back to Una’s room, took the bag and … disposed of it.’

‘But you can’t say any of this to the police because there’s no evidence?’

‘Exactly.’

‘And you want me to see if I can find any?’ I might as well ask her outright. I can’t see the point of skirting the issue. She’s exactly the type of person who appreciates straight talking.

She nods. ‘Would you keep your ear to the ground? Try to listen in on conversations, particularly any that involve Kathryn. Elspeth, too. She’s not as frail as she tries to make out. Una caught her dancing once …’

I knew it. I knew she wasn’t as infirm as she pretended to be.

‘And, please, stay safe. Don’t take any chances. Don’t be lured onto that bridge too.’

I swallow my irritation and nod noncommittally. I want to tell her I wouldn’t be that stupid but I don’t. It wouldn’t be fair, and maybe I would have done the same in Una’s position.

I sit back in my chair. I watch the boys in the band getting ready to play and I catch the eye of the bass player, Vince, and smile. He turns away. ‘Okay,’ I say to Courtney, who’s watching me expectantly. ‘I’ll do it. If Kathryn or Elspeth know anything about Una’s death, I’ll find out. I promise.’

I stay for a while, listen to the band, and have a couple more drinks. Courtney introduces me to her boyfriend, Kris, a cute guy with scruffy shoulder-length hair and an eyebrow piercing, then walk home alone. Maybe that’s foolish after what Courtney told me, but I refuse to let some arsehole scare me into submission. And it’s only ten o’clock – the streets are still fairly busy. People are queuing to get into nightclubs, and Saturday-night revellers are spilling out of pubs. It’s