Aftermath

“No. Just that none of the lads around here seemed to satisfy her in any way. She thought they were all stupid and all they had on their minds was football and sex. In that order.”

Jenny had met plenty of lads like that. “What was she after? A rich man? An exciting one? A dangerous one?”

“She wasn’t interested in money particularly. Dangerous? I don’t know. Maybe. She liked to live on the edge. Back then, like. She could be quite over-the-top.”

Jenny made some notes. “How? In what way?”

“It’s nothing, really. I shouldn’t have spoken.”

“Go on. Tell me.”

Pat lowered her voice. “Look, you’re a psychiatrist, right?”

“Psychologist.”

“Whatever. Does that mean if I tell you something it goes no further? It stays between you and me and nobody can make you name your source? I mean, I wouldn’t want Lucy to think I’d been talking out of turn.”

While Jenny might have some valid defenses for not turning over her patients’ files without a court order, in this instance she was working for the police and couldn’t promise privacy. On the other hand, she needed to hear Pat’s story, and Lucy would probably never find out about it. Without resorting to an outright lie, she said, “I’ll do my best. I promise.”

Pat chewed on her lower lip and thought for a moment, then she leaned forward and gripped her teacup in both hands. “Well, once she wanted to go to some of those clubs in Chapeltown.”

“West Indian clubs?”

“Yes. I mean, most nice white girls wouldn’t go near places like that, but Lucy thought it would be exciting.”

“Did she go?”

“Yes, she went with Jasmine, a Jamaican girl from the Boar Lane branch. Of course, nothing happened. I think she might have tried some drugs, though.”

“Why? What did she say?”

“She just hinted and did that, you know, that knowing sort of thing with her eyes, like she’d been there and the rest of us had only seen it on television. She can be quite unnerving like that, can Lucy.”

“Was there anything else?”

“Yes.” Once Pat was in full flow, it seemed there was no stopping her. “She once told me she’d acted as a prostitute.”

“She’d what?”

“It’s true.” Pat looked around to make sure no one was interested and lowered her voice even more. “It was over a couple of years ago, before Terry came on the scene. We’d talked about it in a pub one night when we saw one – you know, a prostitute – wondering what it would be like and all, doing it for money, just as a bit of a laugh, really. Lucy said she’d like to try it and find out and she’d let us know.”

“Did she?”

“Uh-huh. That’s what she told me. About a week later, she said the night before she’d put on some slutty clothes – fishnet tights, high heels, a black leather miniskirt and a low-cut blouse and she sat at the bar of one of those business hotels near the motorway. It didn’t take long, she said, before a man approached her.”

“Did she tell you what happened?”

“Not all the details. She knows when to hold back, does Lucy. For effect, like. But she said they talked, very business-like and polite and all that, and they came to some financial arrangement, then they went up to his room and… and they did it.”

“Did you believe her?”

“Not at first. I mean, it’s outrageous, isn’t it? But…”

“Eventually you did?”

“Well, like I said, Lucy’s always capable of surprising you, and she likes danger, excitement. I suppose it was when she showed me the money that tipped the balance.”

“She showed you?”

“Yes. Two hundred pounds.”

“She could have got it out of the bank.”

“She could, but… Anyway, that’s all I know about it.”

Jenny made some more notes. Pat tilted her head to see what she was writing. “It must be a fascinating job, yours,” she said.

“It has its moments.”

“Just like that woman who used to be on television. Prime Suspect.”

“I’m not a policewoman, Pat. Just a consultant psychologist.”

Pat wrinkled her nose. “Still, it’s an exciting life, isn’t it? Catching criminals and all that.”

Excitement wasn’t the first word that came to Jenny’s mind, but she decided to leave Pat to her illusions. Like most people’s, they wouldn’t do her any real harm. “What about after Lucy met Terry?”

“She changed. But then you do, don’t you? Otherwise what’s the point of getting married? If it doesn’t change you, I mean.”

“I see your point. How did she change?”

“She became a lot more reserved. Stopped home more. Terry’s a bit of a homebody, so there was no more clubbing. He’s the jealous type, too, is Terry, if you know what I mean, so she had to watch herself chatting up the lads. Not that she did that after they were married. It was Terry, Terry, Terry all the way then.”

“Were they in love?”

“I’d say. Dotty about each other. At least that’s what she said, and she seemed happy. Mostly.”

“Let’s back up a bit. Were you there when they met?”

“She says so, but I can’t for the life of me remember them meeting.”

“When was it?”

“Nearly two years ago. July. A warm, muggy night. We were at a girls’ night out at a pub in Seacroft. One of those really big places with lots of rooms and dancing.”

“How do you remember it?”

“I remember Lucy leaving alone. She said she hadn’t enough money for a taxi and she didn’t want to miss her bus. They don’t run late. I’d had a few drinks, but I remember because I said something about her being careful. The Seacroft Rapist was active around then.”

“What did she say?”

“She just gave me that look and left.”

“Did you see Terry there that night? Did you see him chatting her up?”

“I think I saw him there, by himself at the bar, but I don’t remember seeing them talking.”

“What did Lucy say later?”

“That she’d talked to him when she went to the bar for drinks once and quite liked the look of him, then they met again on her way out and went to some other pub together. I can’t remember. I was definitely a bit squiffy. Anyway, whatever happened, that was it. From then on it was a different Lucy. She didn’t have anywhere near enough time for her old friends.”

“Did you ever visit them? Go for dinner?”

“A couple of times, with my fiance, Steve. We got engaged a year ago.” She held up her ring. The diamond caught the light and flashed. “We’re getting married in August. We’ve already booked the honeymoon. We’re going to Rhodes.”

“Did you get along with Terry okay?”

Pat gave a little shudder. “No. I don’t like him. Never did. Steve thought he was all right, but… That’s why we stopped going over, really. There’s just something about him… And Lucy, she was sort of like a zombie when he was around. Either that or she acted like she was on drugs.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just a figure of speech. I mean, I know she wasn’t really on drugs, but just, you know, overexcited, talking too much, mind jumping all over the place.”