‘What was Evie doing at Imogen’s house?’ he asks, clearly as confused as I am. ‘Why would she have just taken off like that?’
Because Lina had put suggestions into her head about him and Imogen? I wonder, but I think better of voicing my thoughts. ‘You’ll need to talk to her,’ I say. ‘But please be careful,’ I add quickly. ‘However badly they’d fallen out, she and Imogen were close. She will be devastated, grieving and stuffed full of guilt after their argument. The last thing she needs right now is for you to bombard her with questions.’
‘I know,’ he concedes shakily. ‘Thanks for being there for her.’ He glances at me. ‘I probably wouldn’t have handled it well.’
I give him a brief smile. ‘Where else would I be?’
A minute later, I slow as I turn into Imogen’s road, my mind hurtling back to the night I’d delivered her here after Evie’s violent attack on her. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined I would never see her again. How did this happen?
Jack is out of the car, heading for the front door. I’m right behind him as the door swings open and Evie emerges. My eyes pivot to the lounge window as if drawn to it. Imogen’s mother stands there. She’s staring in our direction. Does she see us? I wonder. See anything other than snapshots of her child’s life playing excruciatingly through her mind. Her grief will be all-consuming, indescribable unless you’ve experienced it. I want to go to her, reach out to her, but right now, I imagine I will be the last person she wants to see. The woman whose daughter – albeit Evie is not my flesh and blood – is still alive.
My gaze goes back to Evie, who’s stopped on the drive as if frozen. She stares at Jack for a moment. Then, ‘Dad,’ she cries, and races towards him.
Jack catches her as she launches herself at him, wrapping his arms tightly around her and squeezing her close. ‘Shh,’ he murmurs, stroking her hair softly as she sobs into his shoulder. ‘It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.’
‘It’s not!’ Evie pulls away. ‘It’snot,’ she repeats, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘Immy’sdead. She’s nothereany more, she neverwillbe. How did that happen?’ she asks him, her face a kaleidoscope of emotion, from confusion through to accusation.
My heart falters as I watch Jack draw her back to him. ‘I don’t know, Evie,’ he says gutturally.
But why is she asking him? Trepidation twists tightly inside me. Surely she couldn’t still be thinking that Jack and Imogen… No, it’s incomprehensible.
THIRTY-FIVE
Evie hasn’t spoken a word on the drive home. Once we arrive, she hurries through the front door and goes straight to her room. I debate for a second and then follow her up. Hearing her quietly crying as I pause outside her door, I guess her grief for her mother will have surfaced too, and decide to give her some space.
Going down to the lounge to talk to Jack, I find him pouring a large drink, whisky this time, and my heart sinks. Why did I agree to have spirits in the house? Jack had brought them from his flat. He didn’t drink spirits often, he’d said. They were supposed to be for social occasions not daily consumption. ‘You need to get a grip,’ I tell him. ‘Evie’s going to need you to be there for her. Drinking that stuff isn’t going to help anything.’
With the glass halfway to his mouth, Jack hesitates. After staring pensively into the contents for a moment, he sucks in a breath then plants the glass back on the tray. ‘I know,’ he says.
There’s such anguish in his eyes as he turns to face me, my heart bleeds for him. He’s struggling, of course he would be, but I can’t do this for him. ‘Your daughter needs you, Jack,’ I repeat forcefully. ‘However hard she might be appearing to push you away, youhaveto be all that she needs you to be, there for her,dependable and strong. You can’t be that if you’re anaesthetising yourself with alcohol.’
Nodding, he takes another breath, then, ‘She doesn’t want to talk to me,’ he says, shrugging hopelessly.
Seeing his confusion and obvious hurt, I’m about to go to him when there’s a knock on the front door. Quickly I exchange wary glances with Jack and then hurry to answer it, questions whirling around in my head as I do. WhyhadEvie dashed off to see Imogen without a word? Cold foreboding settles in the pit of my stomach as I recall Lina’s awful comment about it not being much of a friend who’s ready to leap into bed with her friend’s father. It turns to icy dread as I open the door to see DI Blake, who’d spoken to us briefly outside Imogen’s house, and a uniformed officer outside on the drive talking to Lina.
‘Can I help you?’ I call, stepping quickly out.
The detective glances in my direction and then walks towards me. ‘Mrs Conley,’ she says, extending her hand.
‘It’s Keenan,’ I remind her, attempting to glean from her expression why she’s here.
‘They’re not married,’ Lina interjects. Even now I can hear disparagement in her tone, and I wonder how I ever felt pity for her.
I note DI Blake’s eyes slide back to her, and I suspect she’s making a mental note that there’s some antipathy between us. ‘Sorry for turning up unannounced,’ she says with a polite smile. ‘We just have one or two things we’d like to clarify.’
The uniformed officer nods and introduces himself as PC Dev Patel.
‘With Imogen’s mother being so devastated, I thought it better to have a conversation away from the house, particularly with Evie being so shook up,’ DI Blake goes on, her cool blue eyes quietly appraising me.
‘They were best friends.’ I swallow back a lump of emotion. ‘I gather you think she might have jumped?’ I ask, eyeing her questioningly.
‘With the investigation ongoing, we can’t comment on specifics, I’m afraid,’ she informs me, ‘but there was a note found, which drew us to conclude that she might have. We will release further information as we’re able to. Do you mind if we come in?’ She nods past me to the door.
‘Please do.’ I smile, but nerves tighten my stomach as I lead the way. ‘Would you like some tea or coffee?’ I offer, once I’ve shown them to the lounge.
‘Thanks, but we’re on a tight schedule.’ DI Blake checks her watch, then looks at Jack, who appears to be as apprehensive as I am. ‘We were just chatting to your mother-in-law, Mr Conley. She mentioned that your wife had died. Please accept my condolences.’
Jack answers with a stiff nod.
