“I don’t think there’s any reason to involve Lydia in this.”
“Really?” Some color came back into Paul’s expression. He looked more hopeful. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“Did Alicia ever tell you she suspected she was being watched?”
Paul lowered his glass and gave me a puzzled look. I could see she hadn’t. “Watched? What do you mean?”
I told him the story I had read in the diary—about Alicia’s suspicions she was being watched by a stranger, and finally her fears that she was under attack in her own home.
Paul shook his head. “She wasn’t right in the head.”
“You think she imagined it?”
“Well, it stands to reason, doesn’t it?” Paul shrugged. “You don’t think someone was stalking her? I mean, I suppose it’s possible—”
“Yes, it is possible. So I presume she said nothing to you about it?”
“Not a word. But Alicia and I never talked much, you know. She was always pretty silent. We all were, as a family. I remember Alicia saying how weird it was—she’d go to friends’ houses and see other families laugh and joke and have conversations about things, and our house was so silent. We never talked. Apart from my mum, giving orders.”
“And what about Alicia’s father? Vernon? What was he like?”
“Vernon didn’t really talk much. He wasn’t right in the head—not after Eva died. He was never the same after that. Neither was Alicia, come to that.”
“That reminds me. There was something I wanted to ask you—something Tanya mentioned to me.”
“Tanya Berenson? You spoke to her?”
“Only briefly. She suggested I talk to you.”
“Tanya did?” Paul’s cheeks colored. “I—I don’t know her well, but she’s always been very kind to me. She’s a good, very good person. She visited me and Mum a couple of times.” A smile appeared on Paul’s lips and he looked far away for a moment.
He has a crush on her, I thought. I wondered how Max felt about that.
“What did Tanya say?” he asked.
“She suggested I ask you about something—that happened the night after the car accident. She didn’t go into detail.”
“Yes, I know what she means—I told her during the trial. I asked her not tell to anyone.”
“She didn’t tell me. It’s up to you to tell me. If you wish to. Of course, if you don’t want to…”
Paul drained his pint and shrugged. “It’s probably nothing, but—it might help you understand Alicia. She…” He hesitated and fell silent.
“Go on.”
“Alicia … the first thing Alicia did, when she got home from the hospital—they kept her in for a night after the crash—was she climbed up onto the roof of the house. I did too. We sat up there all night, pretty much. We used to go there all the time, Alicia and me. It was our secret place.”
“On the roof?”
Paul hesitated. He looked at me for a second, deliberating. He made a decision.
“Come on.” He stood up. “I’ll show you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE HOUSE WAS IN DARKNESS as we approached.
“Here it is,” Paul said. “Follow me.”
An iron ladder was attached to the side of the house. We made our way over to it. The mud was frozen beneath our feet, sculpted into hard ripples and ridges. Without waiting for me, Paul started climbing up.
It was getting colder by the minute. I was wondering if this was such a good idea. I followed him and gripped the first rung—icy and slippery. It was overgrown with some kind of climbing plant; ivy, perhaps.
I made my way up, rung by rung. By the time I reached the top, my fingers were numb and the wind was slashing my face. I climbed over, onto the roof. Paul was waiting for me, grinning in an excited, adolescent way. The razor-thin moon hung above us; the rest was darkness.
Suddenly Paul rushed at me, a strange expression on his face. I felt a flicker of panic as his arm reached out toward me—I swerved to avoid it, but he grabbed hold of me. For a terrifying second I thought he was going to throw me off the roof.
Instead he pulled me toward him. “You’re too close to the edge. Stay in the middle here. It’s safer.”
I nodded, catching my breath. This was a bad idea. I didn’t feel remotely safe around Paul. I was about to suggest climbing down again—then he pulled out his cigarettes and offered me one. I hesitated, then I accepted. My fingers were shaking as I took out my lighter and lit the cigarettes.
We stood there and smoked in silence for a moment.