of your life. That’s why I didn’t tell’ – he gestures towards upstairs – ‘the whole story. If you want the police to take you seriously, if you want them to go to 11 Bentley Grove and check there’s no dead woman lying on the carpet, then, however crazy it is, that’s what I want too. I want you to feel better.’
‘I know,’ I say, numb inside. I don’t know what I know any more.
‘Do you have any idea how hard it is, living under a cloud of suspicion when you’ve done nothing wrong? You think I don’t know what you’re thinking? “Kit’s a computer geek. Maybe he can make a body appear and disappear in a matter of seconds. Maybe he killed the body himself.” ’
‘I don’t think that!’ I sob. Because I didn’t let myself go that far. ‘I hate being suspicious of you, I hate it. If 11 Bentley Grove was anywhere but Cambridge . . .’
Sam K is back, standing in the doorway. How much has he overheard? ‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ he says. ‘I’m going to speak to Cambridge police myself. They’re more likely to pay attention if I make the initial contact.’
My heart jolts. ‘Did you . . . ?’ I point upwards, towards our office.
‘I didn’t see a body, no. Or any blood.’
‘But . . .’
‘The strong likelihood is that you were tired and had some kind of . . . transitory hallucination. What did you call it before? A trick of perception. But, at the same time, I don’t want to dismiss what you’ve told me, because . . .’ He sighs. ‘Because you rang Simon Waterhouse, not me. Simon’s the one you wanted. I can’t turn myself into him, but I can do the next best thing, do what I know he’d do: take you seriously.’
‘Thank you,’ I say.
‘Don’t thank me – I’m only the stand-in.’ Sam K smiles. ‘You can thank Simon, the next time you see him.’
It’s only once he’s gone that it occurs to me what those words must mean: he knows I’ve met Simon before.
*
POLICE EXHIBIT REF: CB13345/432/20IG
CAVENDISH LODGE PRIMARY SCHOOL
BULLETIN NO. 586
Date: Monday 30th November 2009
Kittens at Cavendish Lodge!
We had an assembly with a difference on Wednesday in Class 1! Marcus’s cat Bess has had five kittens, and his mum and dad brought them all into school! We had a marvellous time playing with these cute furry visitors, and a very interesting talk afterwards about pets and how to care for them, so huge thanks to Marcus and his family for allowing us to have this super treat! Below are two lovely write-ups from Class 1 children . . .
yesterday afternoon Marcus kittens came into school. They looked so cute they were black with white patches. I got to hold one of them they were lovely and furry but they had very sarp pink claws. One of them runed of beind the piona. I herd one of them purring. They had little blue eyes. It was a lovely afternoon.
by Harry Bradshaw
yesterday Marcus and his mummy brought some kittens to our asembaly we were talking about how to look after pets they were so lovely some were black with wight patches. The mummy cat Bess was not there. I got to hold four of them they felt soft just like fethers.
by Tilly Gilpatrick
Chapter 4
17/07/10
Charlie didn’t know what to do about her surname. It hadn’t occurred to her that it was an issue until Simon had brought it up at the airport. He’d nodded at her passport and said, ‘I suppose you’ll have to get a new one now.’ She hadn’t known what he’d meant, and must have done a dismal job of concealing her shock when he’d explained. Simon had laughed at her. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I assumed you’d be changing your name to mine, but if you don’t want to, I don’t mind.’
‘Really?’ Charlie had asked, immediately anxious about his happiness, which she perceived as fragile and endangered at the best of times. She had assumed the opposite: that she would remain Charlie Zailer; frankly, she was amazed Simon hadn’t also. Annoyed with herself for being unprepared for such an important discussion, she’d decided on the spot that she would do whatever he wanted. There were worse names than Waterhouse.
It seemed, though, that for once Simon’s feelings were uncomplicated. ‘Really,’ he’d assured her. ‘What does it matter what you’re called? It’s only a label, isn’t it?’
‘Exactly,’ she’d replied, straight-faced. ‘I mean, thinking about