‘I don’t think you’ve been entirely truthful with me,’ I said. ‘Have you?’
She started to cry. A couple sitting two tables away glanced over, but then resumed sharing their ice cream.
‘Please stop crying, Amy,’ I said. ‘I think I know what really happened. It will be easier if you just tell me in your own words.’
She just kept sobbing.
‘Amy?’ I pushed gently.
‘OK!’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I admit it. I didn’t walk her to the top of the laneway. I fought with Andrew outside the supermarket, and Kayla said she had to get back to the party. I let her start walking by herself. Then Andrew and I made up, and I said we had to go and catch up with her. He wanted us to go to his house instead, and that was in the other direction. I was determined to stay on his good side, but I also wanted to walk Kayla home – I didn’t want people to think I’d left her alone on her birthday. I remember exactly what Andrew whispered to me. He said, “Just say you walked her home – it’s not like she’s going to remember.” I was so relieved we’d made up, I decided to go with him.
‘So I texted Kayla and said I had a headache and was going home. I never heard back from her; I just assumed she was mad at me. The next morning, when Hazel called, I said I’d walked her to the top of the road. It just automatically came out. I was scared to change my story, scared to go back. Andrew has a criminal record – he beat up a guy in a nightclub once – so I didn’t want to draw any attention to him. I just felt like I couldn’t backtrack. It was too late; we’d already lied. I didn’t see what difference a few minutes’ walk would make; I thought she’d just gone off somewhere and would turn up…’
I was confused. This wasn’t the confession I was expecting from Amy. What about the part where Andrew had taken her? Had Amy not even seen that happen? Had he gone back after Kayla at some point?
‘Amy, tell me the whole story. Do you think Andrew might have hurt her? Is that why you didn’t want to draw attention to him?’
‘No! God, no! I was with him the whole time – he never left my side that night. You know what people are like if you’ve got a criminal record. I didn’t want to go to the guards and tell them I’d lied. Andrew was so temperamental at that stage. I didn’t see what a mistake the relationship was – I just felt like I needed him to survive. And I’d told the story so many times – how I’d walked her to the top of the road, how I’d hugged her goodbye, that I started to believe it myself.’
‘But what did Andrew do to her? What do you know that you’re not telling me? You don’t have to cover for him any more. Or was it you? Did you hurt her?’
‘Jacki, I didn’t hurt her! I can’t help thinking if I’d walked her that extra bit more that she’d have got home OK. But Andrew said she could just as easily have been taken from her own road. God, you can’t think I would hurt her. I’d never do that.’
‘But you paid Lauren to get rid of me.’
‘What? Lauren O’Keefe? I haven’t talked to Lauren properly in years. What do you mean I
I was floored by this – if Amy was lying, she was doing a very good job of it. I didn’t know whether to believe her now or not.
‘What did you fight about?’ I asked. ‘You and Andrew?’
‘Well, you see, Kayla was looking at this magazine in the shop –
I thought back to last week, when I’d gone into Kayla’s room. I remembered the doll’s house and the camera equipment and the Polaroids, but most importantly I remembered the bookshelf, with the photography books and the poetry collections, and the stack of
‘Did Andrew give her the magazine?’ I asked.
‘Yeah, he bought it for her.’
‘No, did he give it to her, did she have it with her before heading back to the party?’
‘Yeah, yeah, she did.’
If she had gone back to the party, maybe something had happened to her right inside the house. I’d felt really dizzy walking up the spiral stairs to her bedroom; maybe something had happened up there. I wasn’t absolutely certain that I’d seen the magazine in her room though. I had to check.
‘Thanks, Amy,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry to make you go over this, but I may have to talk to you again.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said. I felt her eyes watching me sadly as I left.
I went to George’s Street Arcade to retrieve Kayla’s necklace from Lauren. I made sure she swore it was safe before I took it. I wanted to go to Kayla’s house, but I didn’t want to turn up without a reason. I’d already seen her room once; I wasn’t sure if I’d be allowed to see it again, especially if her parents were back.
As I walked up Sycamore Road, I examined the necklace. The tips of the star pendant were discoloured from where it had scalded Lauren’s hands. I really hoped nobody would notice. I’d promised to take good care of it, and now I was returning it in this state. You had to look at it really closely to notice the damage though, and there was nothing I could do about it now.
A woman with a blonde bob opened the door. She looked a lot like Kayla, so I assumed it was her mum.
‘Anna?’ I asked. ‘I’m Jacki, I’m helping Detective Sergeant Lawlor.’
‘Oh yes, of course. Come in,’ she said.
I stepped into the hallway.
‘I wanted to return Kayla’s necklace,’ I said.
‘Was it of any help?’ she asked.
‘I’m not sure… I’m afraid I’ve nothing conclusive yet. But I’d also like to see her room once more,’ I said. ‘If that’s possible?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said. ‘Come with me.’ She was a lot more accommodating than I’d expected her to be. Much like Libby, I suppose.
I followed her up the stairs and along the corridor, then up the spiral staircase. I pretended to look around the room, not wanting to dart directly to the bookshelf. Even though I was desperate to examine it, I didn’t want to seem suspicious. I wanted it to look like I was trying to connect with Kayla, not that I was searching for something in particular. I moved slowly towards the shelf. Sure enough, there it was. On top of the pile of magazines was the issue with Bruce Springsteen on the cover. Kayla had come back here after all. My heart started to race.
‘Every time I look at these Polaroids I spot something new,’ said Anna.
I turned round. ‘They’re beautiful.’
‘Like that one,’ said Anna, pointing to the photo of the white butterfly landing on the purple thistle.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I noticed that one the last time I was here.’
‘Ah, but did you notice everything about it?’ she asked.
‘Sorry?’
‘Take a closer look.’
I walked towards the photograph. I stared at it, but didn’t immediately notice anything new. However, after a few more moments, I saw it. A small brown snail, blending in with the darkest part of the thistle.
‘That photograph won a competition,’ said Anna. ‘So few people notice the snail at first. They’re so fixated on the butterfly that they don’t even think to look for anything else.’