‘Mrs Stevens and Olive Pearce,’ he said, ‘where was it you saw them? What were they doing?’
‘Just sitting in the burger bar – with Justin in his buggy. I suppose Mrs Stevens wanted to see the baby only I should think if Walter found out he’d go raving mad.’
‘If he found out what?’
‘I told you, Russell, you weren’t listening.’
‘Sorry.’
They were passing the new flats, the ones that overlooked the water, the ones where Simon had once said he would like to live.
‘That time you followed Joanne,’ said Russell, ‘when she was seeing round the flat, fixing it up or whatever . . .’
‘What about it?’
‘You said you thought someone was following you.’
‘Not just that time. Oh, I don’t know, you said yourself I was starting to imagine things.’
When they reached the new bridge he let go of her hand. ‘This way. There’s a house over there.’ He pointed beyond the single storey building, where the kids who belonged to the sailing club met up before practising in their canoes and dinghies. ‘Come on, not much further.’
The bridge bounced under their feet. It was still called the new bridge although it had been built when Karen was at primary school. Before that anyone who wanted to cross the river had been forced to go round, adding more than half a mile to their journey. Half way across Russell stopped and they both stared down at the fast flowing current.
‘I enjoy being with you, Karen,’ he said. ‘I expect you know that.’
‘Good.’ She felt a little embarrassed. What was she supposed to say. I enjoy being with you too? But what about Simon? He and Russell were so different. Simon was so easy-going – at least he had been until recently. With Russell it was as if his life up to now had been really hard. He’d had to fight every inch of the way.
‘Russell?’ Suddenly she wanted to know more about him. His family, friends, where he had worked before he started at the Sports Centre. ‘When you left school were you out of work for ages?’
‘What?’ He spun round. ‘Why d’you want to know?’
‘I suppose it’s because you’ve told me so little about yourself. Apart from your father being ill and your mother . . .’
‘She’s dead.’
‘Yes, I know. It must’ve been awful.’
He stared at her and for a moment she thought he was going to cry. Then he smiled. ‘I didn’t know you knew Holly Fisher?’
‘Holly Fisher? How did you . . .?’
‘Saw you talking to her. Took some time off to buy a card for my father. It’s his birthday tomorrow. You were outside the vet’s. I’d have called out but you two looked as if you were discussing something serious.’
‘Not really. I was asking her about Glen. Tessie – she’s the one with the pale blue swimming costume.’
‘Yes, I know who Tessie is.’ He was leaning over the bridge, looking at a clump of reeds. ‘Sorry, thought I saw a shoe but it’s only part of a supermarket trolley. Why would someone go to all the trouble of dragging a trolley down here and chucking it in the river?’
Karen shivered. ‘Who knows? I suppose they must be so bored they can’t think of anything . . .’
He put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. ‘Someone told me Holly Fisher was a friend of Natalie’s. What did she say?’
‘About Glen, d’you mean?’
He shrugged. ‘That and other things.’
It was starting to rain, a fine drizzle that showed up against the lamp at the end of the bridge. Suddenly Russell started walking so quickly it was difficult to keep up with him.
‘Where are we going?’ she called, out of breath and wondering why he was so interested in her conversation with Holly Fisher. ‘It was all a misunderstanding – about Holly and Glen. Tessie was upset – her brother saw the two of them together – so I thought I’d find out if there was any truth in it.’
‘And?’
‘It was nothing. Now, what was it you wanted to show me?’
‘In a minute. Did you see that scum in the river? The factory further up tips waste into the river.’
‘What factory?’
‘The one that pays people peanuts. Leather goods. Smells like one of those places where they turn cows into rump steak. I worked there once – when I was desperate for a job. Only for half a day. Couldn’t stand it any longer.’
‘I don’t blame you.’
‘No?’ His voice was flat, cold. ‘She told you, didn’t she? Holly Fisher.’
‘Told me what?’
‘About me and Natalie.’
She froze. She could feel the cold, prickly skin on the back of her neck. She wanted to run – but where to? It was dark and there was no-one in sight. In the distance a man on a bike appeared from out of the gloom, then took the turning a hundred yards ahead of them and pedalled away, down the path by the canal.
‘She loved me,’ said Russell, and his voice was quieter, softer. ‘She was going to leave Liam and move in with me. And the baby of course. Holly told you. I knew she would.’
‘No.’ She struggled to keep her voice steady, to conceal the terror that was seeping through her body. ‘We talked about Joanne, and Walter Stevens, but she never mentioned you.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘No. No, I’m not. I’d no idea
