Читать книгу The Party: The gripping new psychological thriller from the bestseller Lisa Hall - Lisa Hall - Страница 15

7

JANUARY – TWO DAYS AFTER THE PARTY

‘Are you sure you’ll be OK?’ Gareth pauses from where he’s stuffing paperwork into his laptop bag, running his eyes over me. He looks pale, washed-out, with dark circles like bruises under his eyes. I can only imagine how I must look – better than I feel, hopefully.

‘I’ll be fine. I know you’re busy.’ Too busy. The words hang in the thick silence between us. It’s the first proper working day back after the Christmas holidays and I know that Gareth is itching to get back to the office. In a way, I’m happy that he’s going for the day. I can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t quite believe my story about what happened at the party; something about the way he looked at me when he told me Carrie said I had probably destroyed all the evidence. Almost as though he thought I’d done it on purpose. It’s hard enough trying to process it all, without feeling as though I have to convince him to believe me.

‘If you need me I can come home. You know that.’ I nod as he crosses the small gap between us, pulling me close for a quick hug before he lets me go again. ‘Or I can stay – if you want me to, I’ll cancel the meetings.’ He pulls the laptop bag over his shoulder and reaches for his travel mug of coffee, saying the words, but not really meaning them.

I shake my head, playing my part to perfection. ‘It’s fine, honestly. I’m sure Robbie will be home before too long, and I have Carrie’s number.’ Not that I’ll call her. ‘I’ll take the dog out for some fresh air and then maybe I’ll … I don’t know. I’ll find something to do.’ I force out a smile, shooing him towards the door and he scurries off down the drive, giving me a brief wave as he reverses the car out and heads towards West Marsham.

I sit at the kitchen table, hugging my mug of tea for warmth. I don’t seem to have been able to get warm since I woke up in that stifling, stuffy room in Liz’s house, the morning after the party. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back and try my hardest to remember something, anything, about that night. I’m tired of not knowing what happened, tired of the fear that hovers every time I try to fill in the blanks. Music.That’s something that floats into my mind as I try and think – I remember as we walked in there was Christmas music playing, something old, maybe from the 80s, playing loudly, the bass line thudding in my chest. I remember Gareth rolling his eyes, laughing at me, as I started to dance my way into the house, grabbing at his hand to pull him along behind me. I still thought that I could jolly him into having a good time, that once he’d had a beer or two he’d loosen up and start enjoying himself. Did he, though? I can’t remember. Liz said she didn’t think we argued, but who knows? I should maybe start to think about talking to some of the others at the party, maybe they would know?

The shrill ring of the doorbell startles me, and I jump, slopping cold tea down the front of my dressing gown. Shit. I dab at it pathetically as the doorbell rings again, before giving in and getting to my feet.

‘Rachel. Hi. How are you doing?’ I open the front door to find Carrie on the doorstep. True to her word she is here, just as she said she would be. She looks me up and down quickly, as if she’s trying to assess me without me noticing. I notice.

‘I thought you would have called first. I’ve just got up.’ I feel as though I have to justify why it’s nearly ten o’clock in the morning and I’m still in a scruffy dressing gown.

‘I’m sorry, I was passing and I thought I’d pop in now, instead of having to drop back later. Is it OK to come in?’ She already has one foot on the threshold so I pull the door fully open to allow her to come in. She moves aside to let me lead the way and I take her through to the living room, aware that I haven’t tidied the kitchen after last night’s dinner.

‘Here,’ I gesture towards the couch for her to take a seat. ‘Would you like tea?’

‘No, thank you.’ Carrie sits, and digs in her bag for her notebook and pen. ‘I’m going to be your dedicated officer, Rachel. That means that I’ll be the one keeping you informed of everything that takes place during our investigation. I know you gave us a statement yesterday, but do you think I could ask you a couple more questions?’

‘Yes, of course.’ I draw in a shaky breath. ‘Sorry. It’s difficult to keep talking about it, you know?’ Picking at the threads on my dressing gown, my stomach flips with nerves at the thought of having to talk it all through again.

‘I know, I do understand and I’m sorry that I need to ask you more. I just want to check and make sure that you haven’t remembered anything else, anything that might be significant.’ I shake my head, fighting back the wave of frustration that rises up in me at the thought of the black hole in my memory.

‘Just that there was music. There was music playing really loudly when we walked in. That’s it, there’s nothing else. What have you done so far?’ The question blurts out before I think. ‘I mean … how are you investigating this? What are you doing to find out who did this to me?’ The words tumble out and I raise my hand to my mouth to try to stop them. ‘Sorry, I’m sorry … I just …’

Carrie leans forward and lays her hand on mine, squeezing in some gesture of reassurance.

‘Rachel, I promise we’re doing everything we can to get as much information as possible. We’ve spoken to the party host and asked for a complete list of guests. We’ll be talking to every guest individually, asking them questions to see what they can tell us. Sometimes people see things that they don’t even realize are relevant. Any information can be useful.’

‘OK,’ I nod, already feeling a little calmer, now I know that even if Gareth doesn’t necessarily believe me, Carrie does. ‘And you’ll speak to everybody that is on the list?’

‘Of course, we will.’ Carrie makes a point of writing in her notebook, almost as if to prove to me that she’ll do what she says she will. ‘Once we have the results of your medical examination I’ll be able to give you more information, but the truth is …’ Carrie breaks off for a moment and I feel a swell of horror, as I know what she’s going to say. She swallows hard, as if finding it difficult to speak. ‘The fact that you had a bath won’t have helped … it might make it difficult for us to pick up any DNA.’

‘I had to! I had to have a bath … I felt …’ the words stick in my throat,‘I felt filthy. And anyway … I didn’t know, not at first. I thought … I don’t know what I thought; I just didn’t think it was that. Everything was so … confused, blurry. Things like that don’t happen to people like me.’ I break off, the words unable to force their way out past the lump in my throat.