‘I need to speak to you,’ he says, staring straight ahead, like a spy in an old film.
I turn to him. ‘Are you talking to me?’
He meets my gaze. He has intense eyes and a crease between his brows that seems permanent, as though he’s constantly annoyed. I don’t like the look of him. ‘Yes.’
‘Who the fuck are you? And why are you following me?’
He physically reels backwards. I continue across the road and down the street, and hear the thud of his boots as he runs to catch up.
‘I’m sorry,’ he calls after me. ‘I didn’t mean to come across as creepy. I just wanted to get your attention. You see, I couldn’t come to the house and … please …’ he sounds breathless ‘… can you stop a minute?’
I stop so abruptly that a woman with a pram almost crashes into me. She moves around me, tutting loudly. I fold my arms. He stands facing me, his face red and sweaty. He doesn’t look well. ‘Are you okay?’
He shakes his head. ‘I’ve had the flu. Look …’ he stands up straighter and extends a hand ‘… I’m Peter.’
Peter? The name rings a bell and then it clicks. ‘The brother of Matilde?’
‘No. Jemima. She died. She worked for Elspeth too.’
I hold up a hand. ‘I know who she is.’
‘I was in touch with Una and then I heard she died, too, in an accident. So when I got some time off work I knew I had to come down. Because it’s weird, don’t you think? And then I hovered around the McKenzies’ house and saw you coming out. At first I thought you were Una and there’d been some mistake but …’ he points to my face with a sad smile ‘… the nose ring.’
I remember what Courtney had told me about Una arranging to meet Peter on the bridge the night she died.‘Una’s friend said Una thought she was meeting you that night.’
The groove between his eyebrows deepens. ‘The police said something about that. But it wasn’t me. I was working and the police took my phone and analysed it.’
I stare at him sceptically. I wonder if he has an alibi. And he could have used a burner phone. Isn’t that what they’re called on those TV crime dramas?
He hangs his head. ‘I feel awful about it. Una rang me a few times and left messages, but work was crazy and I was on long shifts and never got the chance to call her back.’
I’m conscious of the time ticking by and Elspeth waking to find I’ve not returned with the books. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go. I’m working.’
‘Can you meet me tonight after work?’
I pull an apologetic face. ‘I’m sort of on call twenty-four/seven.’
‘What?’ He looks shocked. ‘I don’t remember Jemima having that arrangement.’
I shrug. ‘She pays amazingly well for what I do. And I need the money. But I get two days off a week. I could meet you on Saturday.’
‘I’m not sure … I’ve driven all this way.’
‘Then contact Courtney. She was Una’s best friend. She knows more about it all than I do.’ I take my mobile out of my bag and reel off Courtney’s number. Peter taps it into his phone. ‘I’d better go. And … I’m really sorry. About Jemima. And Una.’
I leave him standing in the middle of the street and head towards the art gallery.
Kathryn isn’t there when I arrive and I’m greeted by a voluptuous girl with long hair piled on top of her head and bright red lipstick. She introduces herself as Daisy.
‘Do you know when she’ll be in?’
She looks at her watch. ‘Should be here any minute. She’s late this morning. Some family emergency.’
Family emergency? I wonder what that could be. Elspeth was fine when I left her. But what if something’s happened while I’ve been out? It’s taken longer than I anticipated to get here because I ran into Peter.
I explain why I’m here and Daisy’s pretty face falls. ‘I really don’t think I should be giving you that sort of thing without Kathryn’s permission,’ she says, her full lips turning down at the sides.
‘But they’re for Kathryn’s mum, who owns this place.’
