Page 22 of The Girls in the Lake
Going inside, she knew she could take off where she’d started a couple of hours ago, run herself a hot bath and soak away the tensions of today. But after staring at the bloated corpse dredged from the lake it no longer had the same appeal. She poured herself an even larger glass of wine and this time had drunk half of it before she’d even made it up the stairs. Turning around, she looked at the bottle, so chilled there were rivulets of condensation running down the side.You’re an adult, Beth. Tonight has been tough, you’ve earned this drink.The voice of reason inside her mind made perfect sense; who was she to argue with it? She’d had the shittiest of days. Robert was dead and she’d had to deal with two drownings in the same day.
She went upstairs to the bedroom where she’d left the original wine bottle on the bedside table. Topping her glass up, she went into the bathroom for the second time. This time turning on the shower, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she turned her head and stared at the scar on the side of her face. Force of habit sent her fingers reaching up to rub the puckered line of tissue as if trying to erase it. Robert had hurt her, scarred her. Robert, the man who had haunted her dreams for seven years.Fuck you, Robert, I’m glad you’re dead.She raised her glass and took a huge mouthful.It’s finally over.
Wearing soft flannel pyjamas which were covered in a Cath Kidston spray flowers print – a gift from Josh – she finished the wine and fell onto the bed. She wasn’t drunk, but she’d certainly sleep well tonight. No more bad dreams, or at least so she hoped.
She checked her phone hoping to see a missed call, text or messenger alert from Josh, trying to ignore the tiny spark of unease inside her chest when the screen was empty. He was busy working; there was nothing more to it. Knowing him his phone had probably died – he never remembered his charger. Pulling the soft duvet back, she lay down, her head sinking into the pillows, and closed her eyes. Sleep came fast, taking her to a different world. One where she wasn’t staring into rotting corpses that were being consumed by tiny creatures that feasted on flesh.
Twenty-Six
Josh blinked open his eyes, wondering where the hell he was. He was in a single bed. He stared up at the pastel pink, flowery light shade and remembered. Sitting up, his head felt too heavy for his shoulders. He remembered finishing off the rest of the neat vodka and grimaced. Why had he done that? He couldn’t answer; it had felt like the right thing to do under the circumstances.What circumstances?his mind asked. Groaning, he stood up, catching sight of his reflection in the mirror. He asked himself aloud this time. ‘Yeah, Josh, what circumstances?’This whole mess of a situation, that’s what.His phone began to vibrate and for once he wished he’d left it in the car so he didn’t have to answer it. Instead, he picked it up and heard Beth’s voice, a touch of concern making it sound higher pitched than usual.
‘Hi, just checking you’re okay. I missed you last night.’
‘I’m good thanks, well as good as I can be.’ He didn’t tell her he had a hangover.
‘Do you want to be present for the PM of the body from the lake? Just thought I’d check.’
‘I don’t know, do you think I need to be?’
‘There is absolutely no way to say one way or the other. At the moment, the only thing I can say is she’s female. I’m assuming it’s an accident, or maybe a suicide. But seriously it’s a mess; it’s going to be hard to tell you much at all apart from whether she drowned in the lake or died on land.’
She didn’t ask him where he was, but he could feel the weight of the unasked question hanging in the silence. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t tell her that he’d gone to his old home, had cleaned the house from top to bottom while finishing off a bottle of neat vodka. Even though there was nothing in it: he had no feelings towards Jodie except maybe the weight of responsibility and the feelings of guilt that she was ill and alone.
‘I’ll pass then if it’s okay with you. I need to locate the owner ofThe Tequila Sunriseand take a statement from him.’
‘Has he not been to the station? I’d have thought he’d have come to see you and get it over with. How strange.’
‘I’m assuming he’s a very busy man, or that he might not even be aware of what’s happened.’
‘Or he’s simply avoiding talking to the police. Why would he not want to speak to you? Unless he has something to hide.’
‘Like what?’
‘He knows what happened; he pushed her in, although there are no marks or bruising to evidence this.’
‘Or maybe as Ethan put it: the man who found her gave the impression when I took his statement that he’s an arrogant arsehole who is full of his own self-importance.’
Beth laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose there’s always that. I’ll let you know what I find.’ There was a slight pause and then she added, ‘I’ll see you later.’
‘Yes, you will. I missed you too. Bye.’
She hung up the phone and he felt like the world’s biggest arsehole. Why didn’t he just tell her about Jodie? He didn’t know. It felt uncomfortable; maybe he was scared Beth would freak out and tell him he wasn’t to help her. He could understand her feeling that way, but it wasn’t in his nature. He spent his life being there to help people in their greatest hours of need. Jodie wasn’t any different; the fact that they were separated didn’t mean he couldn’t support her. His conscience would no longer let him ignore her than it would a cat stranded up a tree. Sometimes it sucked being a good guy.
He went downstairs to retrieve his clothes from the dryer, pulling out his shirt then trousers. They were creased, but not too bad. They’d have to do. He needed to get to work. He’d do a shop on his way home, stock up the fridge a bit with the stuff he knew Jodie ate. He wondered if she still had an appetite. It didn’t matter, at least there’d be something in to eat if she fancied it. Even though Jodie had told him it was over with Carl, the betrayal had hurt, despite the fact that they’d already drifted apart. Although he couldn’t be sure whether it was his ego or his feelings that had taken the brunt of that one.
He left the house for the short drive to work. It wasn’t the scenic route like when he drove in from Beth’s. It was a lot faster though and he reached the station in record time. Today his mission was to track down the owner of the boat and hope that Beth could get him an ID for the body from last night.
Twenty-Seven
Josh directed Sam to park in the loading bay outside the shops near to the marina.
‘We need to find the guy who owns the boat. Why do you think he hasn’t come to the station?’
‘Busy, feels bad, hates coppers.’
Josh frowned at Sam. ‘Everyone hates coppers, even coppers hate coppers.’
She laughed. ‘That’s true. Not as much as parking wardens though. I think they hate them more than us. Just.’
