‘No, I didn’t,’ Josie said sharply, straightening up and taking hold of Holly’s shoulders. ‘Now stop this nonsense and do as you’re told, because we haven’t got much time.’
Holly jerked free of her and stepped back, suspicion gleaming in her eyes.
‘For God’s sake!’ Josie threw her hands up in exasperation. ‘Stop reading things into everything I say!’
‘Stop lying to me, then,’ Holly cried. ‘I’m not stupid, and if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I swear to God I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again.’
‘No, you won’t, because I won’t let you,’ Josie argued, lumbering after her when she backed out into the hall. ‘You might think you know everything, but you’re just a – Aggh!’
Her foot caught in some of the clothes on the floor and she went flying, knocking the laundry basket over on her way down. The empty vodka bottles rolled out across the floor, and Holly’s eyes widened in shock when she saw how many there were.
‘Don’t look at me like that, you self-righteous little cow,’ Josie hissed, scrabbling to get back on her feet. ‘This is your fault!’
Holly stared down at the woman who suddenly felt like a stranger, and her life flashed before her eyes. All the times she’d been woken in the middle of the night to be told they had to leave whichever dump they were living in . . . Being forced to change schools mid-term so she always felt like an outsider . . . Her mum getting drunk and talking about things in the past that Holly had no recollection of – then insisting, when she was sober, that she’d never said it, that Holly had imagined it . . .
Her entire life had been built on secrets and lies, and if she didn’t get out she would end up as crazy as her mum.
‘Get back here!’ Josie yelled when Holly darted into her bedroom and grabbed her key and her phone before yanking the front door open. ‘I’m warning you, Holly. HOLLLYYYY . . .!’
29
Suzie was sitting at the kitchen table scrolling through Facebook when the doorbell rang, and she frowned when whoever it was immediately started hammering on the small glass pane in the centre of the door. Rob had nipped out to the shops to get cigarettes, but she’d given him a key to get back in so it couldn’t be him. It had to be Holly. And, judging by the panicked knocking, something bad must have happened.
Hoping it wasn’t too serious, Suzie rushed out into the hall and opened the door. Holly stumbled inside, her face wet with tears.
‘She’s been lying to me!’ she cried.
‘Who? Your mum?’ Suzie closed the door. ‘About what?’
‘I don’t know,’ Holly wailed, already beginning to doubt what she’d thought she had figured out. ‘Everything! That – that stuff we saw in the paper . . .’
‘About the couple and the child?’
Holly nodded and wiped her nose on her sleeve.
‘What about them?’ Suzie asked, trying not to grimace as she led her into the kitchen.
Holly slumped down on a chair and dropped her head into her hands. She had been so sure she was onto something back there at the flat, but it now seemed ludicrous.
‘Talk to me, hon.’ Suzie squatted down beside the chair and handed her a piece of kitchen roll.
‘I think Charlotte might have been my cousin, like you said,’ Holly gulped, swiping her eyes before loudly blowing her nose.
‘Did your mum tell you that?’
‘No. I asked her, but she went off her head.’
‘OK, let me make a brew,’ Suzie said softly. ‘Then when you’ve calmed down, you can go home and try to talk to her again. OK?’
Holly nodded her agreement, although she didn’t see what good it would do to try and talk to her mum again, because all she would get was more lies.
Teas made, Suzie sat down and asked Holly to tell her exactly what had happened after she left her the previous night.
Starting from when she’d sneaked the biscuit tin out of her mum’s room after she’d heard her say the name Charlie in her sleep, Holly explained how she’d googled the names of the murdered couple, curious to know if the missing child had ever been found, and how she’d scrutinized the image of the mother and daughter, hoping to see something that would tell her they were related to her and her mum.
‘The mum didn’t look anything like mine, but I thought there was something familiar about the girl, so I thought it might have been the dad who was related to us.’
‘That’s possible, I suppose,’ Suzie said.
‘I don’t think so,’ Holly said glumly. ‘The way my mum reacted when I asked her about Charlotte made me think she probably had known the mum, but I don’t think they were friends, ’cos she called her a whore. But why’s she got to be so secretive about it? Why won’t she just tell me?’
‘The way they were killed was pretty horrendous, so it would have affected your mum if she had known them – even if they hadn’t been particularly close,’ Suzie reasoned. ‘Death has a way of making us forget the bad things people have done, and she might have felt guilty if they’d had a falling out before it happened. That’s probably why she doesn’t want to talk about it. It might be too traumatic for her.’
Holly shook her head slowly. ‘I don’t think she’s traumatized, I think she’s scared the same thing’s going to happen to her – to us. But it happened years ago, so why would she think that?’
‘Did those articles tell you if they ever caught the person who shot them?’ Suzie asked.
‘I don’t think so. Why?’
‘If she did know them, and she knew the killer was still on the loose, I think it would be natural to be scared that they might come after her, as well,’ Suzie said. ‘Hell, if someone I knew got shot and they didn’t catch the guy, I’d probably want to emigrate.’
Holly pursed her lips thoughtfully. If Suzie was
