Page 21 of The Girls in the Lake
It was Ethan’s turn to laugh. It wasn’t often women weren’t impressed by James.
‘Very funny. I went to talk to her and she didn’t give me a second glance. She walked away.’
‘She’s just found out her friend is dead. The world definitely doesn’t revolve around you, believe it or not. Why don’t you send her some flowers, not something ridiculous and over the top. Something classy and understated. Girls love that kind of thing.’
‘Now you’re the relationship expert? The guy who is so entertaining the woman he was with decided jumping overboard and drowning was the better option.’
Ethan shook his head. ‘You’re an arsehole, James.’
They didn’t speak the rest of the way back to Ethan’s crappy cabin. He got out of the car, thanked him for the ride, but never looked his way. He knew James was only trying to be witty, but still it hurt. He didn’t have much luck with women, he never had. It was hard to get anyone to pay attention to you when your mates were all loaded, better looking and flashing cash around like confetti.
Letting himself in, he wrinkled his nose at the smell. It did stink in here, James had been right about that.
Twenty-Four
Josh stopped the car outside the terraced house that he and Jodie had shared for the last ten years. It looked different all in darkness. Even when he’d worked late into the early hours of the morning there was always a light left on for him, sometimes several. Jodie had never liked the dark. He got out of the car and walked up the path, pushed the key into the lock, turning it and opening the door. Stepping inside, it felt strange to be back home; the faint smell of vanilla lingered in the air. He felt as if he was an intruder. The living room was messy, not dirty but untidy. There were magazines scattered all over the coffee table which had seen better days. A thick layer of dust had settled over the television and the black glass stand it stood on. Occasionally, back when they’d been happy, he’d draw a smiling face with a fingertip to wind Jodie up. She’d purposely leave it there to get him back. He smiled; it hadn’t always been arguments and anger.
He went into the kitchen to check what shopping she might need. The cupboards were almost empty apart from a few tins of tuna and chopped tomatoes. Opening the fridge, he frowned; there was nothing in it except an almost empty bottle of vodka and an open packet of ham with the edges all curled up. He took out the ham and threw it into the bin which smelt almost as bad as the body that had washed up earlier. Removing his coat, he rolled up his shirt sleeves, retrieved the polish, cleaning spray and bleach and set about cleaning the house from top to bottom.
By the time he had finished he’d worked up more of a sweat than the last time he’d been to the gym. Lifting up his armpit, he sniffed, grimacing. He couldn’t go home to Beth smelling like this. He realised how tired he was. Taking out his phone, he dialled the takeaway that he and Jodie had used a couple of times a week. He ordered enough food to feed him for the next few days.
While he was waiting, he went upstairs, stripped off his clothes and had the longest shower he’d ever had in this house. When the small bathroom was so steamy he couldn’t see, he towel dried himself. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he went into the spare room to see if he’d left any of his clothes. He found a pair of clean boxers screwed up at the back of one of the drawers, but nothing else. It didn’t matter, they would have to do. He grabbed his clothes and went into the kitchen and pushed them into the washing machine. Switching it on, he took the vodka from the fridge, the last few remaining chips of ice from the bag in the freezer and poured himself a large shot. He carried it into the living room and sat back on the sofa and closed his eyes. How easy it was to relax here. It had been his home for a long time; in fact, he’d spent more time in this house than any other. It was nothing fancy, a simple two-up, two-down terraced. It wasn’t anything like the modern, light, airy, huge home that belonged to Beth. And he realised that was the problem; he may live at Beth’s but it wasn’t his. None of it belonged to him. He was nothing more than a live-in lover and lodger. The vodka burned his throat as he swallowed; what a mess. He didn’t love Jodie, but they could still be friends and she needed a friend now more than ever. He couldn’t stand the thought of her on her own, too ill to go shopping for food or run the hoover around. The thought of her not being well enough to even take the right medication made him feel crap. His eyes began to close and he felt himself drifting off.
A loud knock on the front door woke him. Stumbling to his feet as if he was drunk, he looked around for something to wear and grabbed a pink fluffy dressing gown off the banister.
‘Long time no see, Mr Walker, how are you?’
He smiled at the man who was way past retirement age holding two large paper bags full of food.
‘It’s been a while, Bill, I’m good. Yourself?’
‘Still delivering Thai food to the good people of Kendal.’
‘There’s worse things, Bill.’
‘I suppose there is. How’s Mrs Walker? My wife said she sees her in the oncology clinic.’
‘Not too good, she’s in hospital. How’s your wife?’
‘As good as she’s going to get. Still nagging, so she’s not that ill.’
Josh smiled. ‘Good, I’m glad to hear that.’ He pulled the twenty pound note from his pocket and passed it to Bill. ‘You buy her a nice bunch of flowers on your way home, Bill.’
He offered the money back. ‘I can’t take that.’
‘Yes, you can. Thank you.’
Josh shut the door before he could hand the money back, and smiled. The food smelt divine. Taking it into the kitchen, he piled a plate high and sat at the table. He was going to eat as much of it as he could then pass out on the bed in the spare room. He knew he should ring or message Beth so she didn’t worry about him, but he had a feeling if he told her where he was she’d worry even more. Hopefully, she’d think he was still working. It was wrong, but it seemed like the easier of the two options.
Twenty-Five
Beth scrubbed her hands and arms under the warm spray of water in the ladies’ changing room, trying to block out the images. They had managed to get the body out of the bag in preparation for the post-mortem first thing tomorrow, and the only thing they could say for definite at this stage was that the victim was female. There had been nothing pertaining to any identification in any of the clothes pockets that Abe had gone through. She was waiting to hear from Josh, to see if there were any reported missing persons who this could be.
Satisfied she was scrubbed clean, she was ready to go home. She glanced at the clock. It was almost eleven. So much for her night off and bottle of wine. She checked her phone and was disappointed to see she had no missed calls from Josh. Hopefully, he’d already be home. She loved going home to see the house lit up and signs of life in it. Living on her own had long since lost all its appeal since he’d moved in. Abe had already left; she’d offered to drop him off and he’d refused. Tired and drained, she wished it wasn’t such a long drive home. As she went out to her car she hoped to God no more bodies washed up.
* * *
As she drove through the electric gates twenty-seven minutes later, she sighed; the house wasn’t in darkness because she’d left some lights on, but Josh’s car wasn’t there. She had needed to see him tonight more than she had ever before. It had been a few weeks since she’d come home this late to an empty house and it unsettled her.
