Killing Rachel (6 page)

Joshua picked up the map.

‘Look at the marks on this!’

He held it out for Rose to see. She expected to see Xs here and there but there were none.

‘Look, tiny dots, in felt tip. See, green and red?’

Then she did see them. Dots along the coastline near a village called Stiffkey.

‘What does it mean?’

‘I don’t know. Dad left these things behind when he finished working at Chelmsford. Someone else probably packed this stuff together thinking that Dad would pick it up but he never did.’

‘Do you recognise any of the things?’

‘I never saw him with the book. Nor the notebook. But the key ring I do know. I bought it for him. And the CD . . . Dad loved Bruce Springsteen. He had all his CDs. He’d been to see him in concert. He knew the words of all his songs off by heart and he used to turn it up really loud when we were driving along and sing. It was embarrassing.’

‘I don’t remember that!’

‘No, he didn’t do it in front of Kathy. She hated loud rock music and was always telling him to turn it down.’

‘Oh.’

It was a strange thing but the comment unsettled Rose. She didn’t like to think of her mother and Brendan at odds over anything. In her mind they had been perfect for each other. She remembered it like that. She was sure of it. She looked round to see Joshua holding the key ring by the leather fob. He was staring at it.

He was upset, she realised. These things were of some interest to her but for Joshua it was more important. Pieces of his father’s life turning up out of the blue, like sea-wrack washed up on a shore.

She picked up
The Butterfly Project
. She opened it on the first page.

‘I never knew there were so many species of butterflies.’

‘Um.’

Joshua was very still. He had the key ring in the palm of his hand and was looking at it oddly.

‘You all right?’

Was he going to cry? He said he had bought the key ring for his dad. Was he thinking of a happy time when he gave it to him? She knew what that was like. Sorting through her drawers at home she might happen on an old scarf of her mum’s and find herself instantly tearful.

‘Josh, you OK?’

He sat back with the key ring sandwiched between his palms.

‘Something weird is happening to me.’

She put the book down and went close to him. He was hunched and looking distracted. She reached out her hand and laid it lightly on his shoulder. She could feel the tension there.

‘What’s up?’

‘It’s too embarrassing to even talk about.’

‘What? Is it to do with this?’ she said, gesturing towards Joshua’s father’s belongings.

‘If I tell you you’ll laugh.’

‘I won’t.’

‘I bought this for Dad, right?’

She looked at the key ring that he was holding in mid-air.

‘A birthday present. He already had a key ring and he said he would use it for his work keys.’

Rose waited to see what else he had to say.

‘I don’t know if he did or not and that’s not really what I’m trying to tell you . . .’

Joshua looked awkward.

‘I’d better start at the beginning. Come with me. There’s some thing I want to show you.’

He led her into his bedroom. The small room was tidy but the duvet was at an angle, one corner dipping down on to the carpet. Some of Joshua’s clothes were laid across his hanging rail rather than on hangers. He went straight to a small chest of drawers by his bed and pulled open the bottom drawer. He sat back on the bed and pulled out a jumper. He held it up to Rose.

‘This was Dad’s. I packed it with me before we left the house. I’ve had it with me ever since. I don’t wear it. It’s miles too big but I have it near me, wherever I live. Years ago – and this is the bit you’ll laugh at – I slept with it.’

He looked away and she felt her heart soften. She stepped across and sat on the bed beside him. She wanted to give him a hug. She raised her hands for a second but then let them drop. It pained her to see him upset but her mixed-up feelings for him made her tentative and unsure of how to act around him.

Brendan’s jumper lay across Joshua’s lap. She took it from him. It was huge and Rose was reminded of Brendan’s size. A tall man, he seemed to stoop as he went into rooms. He had a rounded stomach and was always standing sideways in front of the mirror in the bedroom and patting it. She saw him standing on and off the scales in the bathroom several times just to check they were right. She remembered something he said regularly to her.
Diet, Monday, Petal
. He winked as he said it, which had embarrassed her at first but she’d got used to it over the three years that they’d lived together.

The jumper was maroon and had a V-neck. It was old and looked as if it had been washed too often, though not perhaps in the last five years. The wool had formed little baubles and there was a pull near the bottom.

‘That’s nothing to be embarrassed about,’ she said.

‘There’s more, though.’

‘What?’

Joshua didn’t speak for a minute. He seemed to be debating something inside his head.

‘If I tell you this you must never tell anyone. God! This is ridiculous. I’m supposed to be a
man of science
. I believe in mathematics, in logic. I think the world is made up of explainable things. I want to build bridges. Instead I’m . . .’

‘What?’

‘This jumper. Sometimes, when I held it close to my face, when I was lying in bed or just taking a nap . . .’

Rose looked at the jumper with puzzlement. She had no idea what Joshua was getting at.

‘Well, I see this place. No, that’s wrong. I didn’t
see
it as such. I kind of smell it, hear it, taste it. Not every time. Just now and then. I become aware of this
place
and I am sure, I am positive it has something to do with Dad.’

‘I don’t understand . . .’

‘I haven’t done it for a long time but when I did I had these sensations. There was a smell, a taste. I heard things. I closed my eyes and I thought I could see Dad there.’

‘Where?’

‘I don’t know. At the place.’

Rose didn’t answer. She didn’t get it. Then she did.

‘You mean like a second sight?’ she said, incredulous.

‘I don’t know. I’ve never told anyone and I wouldn’t have mentioned it to you but when I picked up the key ring I had the same feeling. Just for a few seconds.’

‘I don’t believe in
second sight
.’

‘Neither do I! I’m the last person to believe in something like that. I haven’t touched this jumper for a long time because I’ve been trying to get it out of my head.’

‘It’s probably a memory that’s triggered by a smell or something.’

‘The key ring doesn’t have a smell.’

‘But you bought it for him? Right? So probably there’s some unconscious link between buying the key ring, the jumper and this place, wherever it is.’

‘I shouldn’t have told you. You think I’m ridiculous.’

‘I don’t. I just think there’s got to be a logical explanation.’

They were both quiet. It was the second time today that she’d been faced with some sort of supernatural phenomenon. First the ghost of Juliet Baker in Rachel Bliss’s letter and now this. It was stupid. She just didn’t believe in it. She must have had a dismissive expression on her face because Joshua shook his head and then turned away. It made her feel bad. He’d confided in her and she’d batted it away, made little of it.

‘This place. Where is it? What is it?’ she said.

He kept his back to her.

‘Go on, tell me. Whether it’s this
second sight
or just some deep memory of yours, it might be worth exploring.’

He shrugged but then he started to talk.

‘I had this sense that it was an old cottage, or bungalow. Anyway, it was low and really old, crumbling. And it was always cold and there’s masses of sky. Like the sky is everywhere, huge. And there was this smell of the sea but the sea wasn’t there. It was far away. And I heard seagulls.’

‘There’re seagulls on Camden High Street,’ Rose said.

‘I know but it seems like they’re
meant
to be there. Not just some scavenging birds. It’s like their noise is the main thing. There’s no sound of traffic or sirens or anything. Just seagulls.’

‘And are you there? With your dad?’

‘No, that’s the point. If I was there then it would be a memory of some sort. But it’s a place I’ve never been to. That’s why it seems as though it’s a signal of some sort. A sign?’

‘You can’t know you’ve never been there. I don’t remember a lot of stuff from when I was young.’

‘I know, I know. I just had this
feeling
that it was an important place for Dad. It’s not easy to explain.’

‘I don’t believe in the supernatural.’

‘Neither do I,’ Joshua said miserably.

Rose went into the kitchen and picked up the key ring. It was solid and the letter ‘B’ was big and heavy. The key that hung off it was a dull brass colour. She held it for a moment and felt the cold metal. From behind she heard footsteps.

‘Just forget I ever said anything.’

He walked over to the kitchen table and collected up the items from the file. She knew she’d hurt his feelings. She took a step towards him but he had his back to her. In any case, what could she say?

‘I’d better go,’ she said. ‘I’ll email you later?’

He nodded his head without saying anything. She picked up her coat and left.

Rose headed straight back to her grandmother’s house. The bus came quickly and she hopped off at her stop feeling odd and ruffled. Joshua’s story had unsettled her. The story itself was weird but she was sure that the answer lay in Joshua’s mind rather than some supernatural phenomenon. He’d trusted her with his private thoughts and she should have been less sceptical.

She took her keys out but the front door opened before she could reach the lock.

Her grandmother was standing there. She had a serious expression on her face.

‘Rose,’ she said, standing back and holding the door open.

‘Hi,’ Rose said.

‘Come in.’

‘Is something wrong?’

‘Rose, I did what you asked . . .’

Rose took her coat off, draping it over her arm. Her grandmother shut the front door.

‘I rang Mary Linton College. Well, I tried and then rang again later today. I only just got through to Martha Harewood an hour so ago.’

Rose remembered that she had asked her to speak to the housemistress about Rachel Bliss. It had gone out of her mind. For the first time in days she hadn’t thought about those irritating letters and phone calls.

‘Was she OK about it? She knows what Rachel is like. Rachel’s had problems a number of times . . .’

‘I did speak to her.’

‘What did she say?’

Her grandmother was looking pained. Had Martha been brusque with her? Told her to keep out of it?

‘Rose, I don’t know how to tell you this so I’ll just come out with it. This girl, Rachel Bliss, who used to be your friend, well, there’s been a terrible accident. She was found dead this morning.’

‘What?’

‘They found her in the boating lake. Drowned.’

Rose didn’t say a word. She stared at her grandmother.

‘I’m afraid so. Martha Harewood told me . . .’

‘That can’t be right.’

‘I can see you’re upset.’

‘But she just wrote to me. There must be a mistake.’

‘I’m afraid it is her,’ her grandmother said. ‘There’s no mistake.’

Rose felt weak at the knees. Her grandmother put her hand out to steady her. She could hardly believe it.

Rachel Bliss was dead.

SEVEN

Rose was sitting cross-legged in the studio. Her pad was open in front of her and she was sketching furiously. On the page were three drawings of an eye. One was from the front, another was profiled and the third was closed. It was part of an assignment she was working on,
Windows.
She had pages of sketches of actual windows and cameras and computer screens and keyholes. She was close to pulling together her ideas and submitting her assignment. This was the week to finish it.

She stared at the profiled eye and then made a couple of alterations with her pencil. It was rubbish. She scribbled across it. Then she drew straight hard lines across the others. She tore the page out and screwed it up and tossed it on the floor beside her.

Her back was sore and she wanted to lean against something. The sofa was too far away, though, and it was too much effort to move.