Chapters (48)
- ANNCLEEVES
- Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Chapter Twenty-nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-one
- Chapter Thirty-two
- Chapter Thirty-three
- Chapter Thirty-four
- Chapter Thirty-five
- Chapter Thirty-six
- Chapter Thirty-seven
- Chapter Thirty-eight
- Chapter Thirty-nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-one
- Chapter Forty-two
- Chapter Forty-three
- Chapter Forty-four
- Chapter Forty-five
- Acknowledgements
‘There’s nothing specific. Just a feeling that the islanders can never break free from their history. That they have no free will. Or that they won’t allow themselves any.’
‘Go home then,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing to stop you. Just leave me your address.’
She’d pulled out a piece of heather and was tearing the tiny dead flowers off the stalk one by one. Perez thought it might take more than a night of clubbing and drinking to make her feel happy again.
‘Did Hattie talk to you before she died?’ he asked.
She turned, startled. ‘Of course she talked to me.’
‘So you got on OK?’
A brief hesitation. ‘Boarding school’s great practice for this sort of work,’ she said. ‘You have to muck in together.’
He wasn’t sure that was a real answer. I went to boarding school, he thought. If you can call the hostel at the Anderson High School a boarding school. I’m not sure it taught me much.
‘Did she talk about Paul Berglund?’ he asked. ‘About what happened when they worked together before?’
‘Paul says it’s all rubbish. She just had a teenage crush.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Was it true then, all that stuff about Paul?’ Sophie looked at him; her eyes seemed huge. ‘You could never tell with Hattie. Sometimes I thought she was mad. She came up with such odd ideas.’
‘Like what?’
Sophie shook her head, unwilling to be specific. ‘I don’t know. She just let her imagination run away with her .’
‘But she did talk to you about Paul?’
‘Yes, she thought he was hitting on me. She was warning me off. I told her I was a big girl and I could look after myself.’
‘I think she was telling the truth about Paul,’ Perez said. ‘But there’s no evidence and he’ll never be charged, if that’s what’s concerning you. I just need to hear what she told you.’
Sophie finished the beer and crushed the can with her fist. She told her story looking out to sea in a flat, unemotional voice. Throughout, there was no eye contact.
‘It was at the end of her first year at university. She’d already had some sort of stress-related illness after A levels. I guess she was that sort of person. An obsessive. Then in the summer vacation she worked as a volunteer on a dig in the south.’
She paused but Perez said nothing. He knew all this, but Sophie had to tell the tale in her own words.
She continued: ‘That was where Hattie met Paul. She fell for him. I mean absolutely head over heels. She admitted that to me. He was married but when’s that ever stopped anyone?’
Now Perez did interject. ‘Did she know he was married?’