She tips her head to one side. ‘I gather she jumped from a ship, though your mother-in-law seems very confused about the circumstances.’
‘She is confused.’ Jack’s tone is short. ‘Is there something you want to talk to me about?’
DI Blake scrutinises him carefully. ‘She also said you were out earlier. That Evie couldn’t get hold of you. Do you mind telling us where you were?’
‘Working,’ he responds tersely. ‘I went to my premises on the industrial estate to collect some items and then straight to an urgent job, a bathroom installation that needs completing.’
‘Ah, I see.’ The detective nods, as if satisfied. ‘And your clients can confirm you were there, presumably?’
Jack glances away, kneading his forehead in that way he does when he’s tense or frustrated, and sick trepidation grips my stomach. ‘No,’ he says, looking cautiously back at her. ‘They’vegone away while the work’s being done. They let me have a key to the property.’
A frown crosses DI Blake’s face. ‘I see,’ she repeats, looking at him thoughtfully.
That’s when I notice something I hadn’t before, and my emotions collide. He’s changed his shirt. I try to calm myself as my mind goes into overdrive, imagining why he would have done so. He keeps a spare in his office, I remind myself. But he’d been panicked about Evie’s whereabouts when I spoke to him on the phone. I can’t imagine he would have stopped off to change his shirt, no matter how covered in building debris it was.
THIRTY-SIX
Once I’ve shown the police out, DI Blake saying they would be in touch, which had sounded more ominous than reassuring, I go back to the lounge to find Jack at the drinks tray. Seeing the tense set of his shoulders as he stands with his back to me, I resist commenting, though I’m sick with worry: about his sudden propensity for drinking more than the odd beer, the unpredictability I hadn’t previously seen in him. Also about the fact the DI Blake had seemed to be checking whether he had an alibi. Jack clearly knows she was.
‘You’ve changed your shirt,’ I say, my heart thudding as I wonder what his reaction will be.
‘What?’ He glances distractedly back at me.
‘Your shirt.’ I nod towards it. ‘You were wearing the denim one I bought you earlier. I remember thinking how nice it looked on you.’
‘Oh, right.’ He looks down at himself. ‘I pricked my hand on the rose tree when you got snagged. Got blood on it, so I changed it at the office before going on to the job.’
Is that the truth? I eye him suspiciously as he takes a sip from his glass. I’m questioning everything about him, I realise, and Ihate myself for it, but how can I not? ‘You’ll need to soak it,’ I tell him.
‘I will,’ he nods, still distracted, and falls quiet.
‘I’m going up to check on Evie,’ I say, thinking someone should before Lina muscles her way in.
He drags a hand across the back of his neck and turns to face me. ‘I was just about to. You should try to rest,’ he says, running concerned eyes over me. ‘You shouldn’t be having to cope with all of this. You’re probably wondering what the hell you let yourself in for.’
I don’t comment. I don’t feel I can reassure him I’m fine. ‘We need to talk,’ I say, ‘but not now. I think we need to concentrate on Evie. She’ll be…’ I trail off, glancing up to the balustrade as Evie emerges from her room.
Seeing her, Jack gulps the contents of his glass back, then wipes a hand across his mouth and goes to meet her as she descends the stairs.
‘She left her bracelet here,’ Evie says, her gaze on the piece of jewellery she’s holding between her thumb and forefinger. ‘Her mum bought it for her birthday. It has her birthstone on it,’ she adds, tears sliding down her cheeks.
I walk across to her and glance down at the pretty Pandora bracelet and the bright red garnet charm attached to it, and another piece of my heart fractures, for Imogen and her mother both. I know her mother will never get over this, that the pain will never go away. For Evie, too, as I wonder how she will cope with it. Two bereavements in her short life, her mother and now her best friend, is surely too much emotional trauma for her to bear.
Jack moves towards her, wrapping an arm hesitantly around her and drawing her to him. To his obvious relief, Evie leans into him, burying her face in his shoulder. ‘It will be all right, sweetheart, I promise,’ he murmurs.
She pushes away from him. ‘No, itwon’t. You know it won’t.’ She scans his face, her own a turmoil of emotion: shock and disbelief, but most of all fear. ‘She wanted to talk to me. She wanted to stay friends. She asked me to meet her in town, but then we argued again and she stropped off. She said she was going home. I felt bad so I went to her house, but she wasn’t there. Why did she go to some car park on her own?’
‘I don’t know,’ he says, his voice cracking. ‘We might never know, but it’s not your?—’
‘It’s just like Mum all over again.’ Evie swipes tears from her cheeks. ‘Immy was my best friend before all of this shit. She told me she would always be, that she loved me, and then she fucking well tops herself.Why?Is it me?’ She stares at Jack in terrified incomprehension. ‘Didshejump because of me?’
‘No!’ Jack says vehemently. ‘Don’t you dare blame yourself for any of this. It was nothing to do with you.’
‘What’s wrong with me?’ Evie looks desperately from him to me.
‘Nothing.’ He moves towards her again. ‘Nothing,’ he repeats forcefully. ‘You’ve been through a lot. You’re bound to be?—’
‘Messed up!’ She backs away from him. ‘I’m totally messed up, Dad. You know I am.’
