‘I’m sorry,’ he says again, and with that her indignation drains out. ‘Are you still thinking about it?’
‘It’s not like I have anything else.’
‘There’s always something else.’ He must be able to read her expression, because he continues, ‘Don’t worry, I’m no God-botherer. But I do believe that. Do you really believe that your time here on earth has run its course? There’s nothing unfinished left for you?’
Slowly, she shakes her head. ‘It’s how I was feeling then. Before.’
‘And now?’
‘I’m not sure.’ A voice rises unprompted in her head.I’m begging you. Help me.She swallows hard. ‘I think there might be something.’
OUTSIDE
Some people are incapable of listening.
You should tell that bitch to shut up. It took all my self-control not to punch her in the throat. All her stupid questions, over and over and over.
They’re all so fucking STUPID. We’re not here to talk, we’re here to learn – learn from the master.
My heart was thumping so hard I was sure you’d hear it. I was ready to explode as she kept yapping on. You’re too polite. They all take advantage of you. I want to build a tall, wide wall between you and all those people who keep taking up all your time.
It could be just you and me. You’d get all the work done. I’d protect your time, your assets. No need to share. I won’t take up your precious attention with stupid questions. I’ll research for you, index for you, type for you, anything for you.
And when you’re tired and you’re stressed and you’ve had enough, I know exactly what you need to calm you down, my hands starting on your back, a massage, just the way I bet you like it, down and down and down.
Oh professor, I’m blushing again. You need to stop putting these thoughts into my head.
16
‘Kelly Green?’ Tom says.
‘Kelly Green. I can’t leave it like that.’
‘You should, though. It won’t do you any good, poking round there. You’ve been questioned on suspicion of her murder.’
She looks at him, shakes her head. ‘They let me go. You didn’t see what it looked like. The blood . . .’ she says. ‘I should have helped her. If only I hadn’t taken that pill . . .’
‘Pill?’
She swallows. ‘I took a pill before she was brought into the cell. Something my pad mate gave me – sorry, my cell mate. A tranquilliser. Just to help me sleep.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me that before?’
‘I was worried for a moment that it had made me kill her – people do weird shit when they’re on that sort of medication, don’t they? I was scared the police might think so. Or you.’ As she says it, she sees for the first time the full absurdity of the idea.
‘I told you I believed you,’ he says. ‘I still do. More, if anything, having spent a bit of time with you.’
‘Yeah, I present so well. Filthy, exhausted, trying to sneak off first thing in the morning. Such innocent behaviour.’
‘It’s not that,’ he says, not rising to her sarcasm. ‘It was what happened last night.’
‘What about last night?’
‘The car,’ he says. ‘The car running you down.’
‘It was an accident,’ Anna says. ‘Wasn’t it?’
‘I wasn’t sure what it was I was watching, but I saw it happen,’ he says. ‘I saw the whole thing, just as I walked out of the gate. You were standing next to the bus stop, on the edge of the pavement. I saw the headlights of the car. It seemed to slow down before it turned, very deliberately, and drove straight at you.’
