I Know What I Saw

There was hate or something like it – spite, maybe – in her voice as she said it. This disturbs me most of all. That she would hurt me for no other reason than to inflict pain. But now as I consider her, I can’t quite see her in those colours. Not truly. There was something else in her voice. More than grief. Some other quality. I play through the conversation I now have to have with her. I run it over and over across the roads and the roundabouts, along the wide pavements and congested bridges.

I have to get her to talk.

Seb’s house. The late afternoon light catches it in a way that makes it feel like a memory. I knock on the door. Seb should be at work, I think, but a few seconds later the door opens and he is there. He looks terrible. He is wearing jeans and a blue-checked shirt that looks slept in.

I hold up a hand to stop whatever he might say. ‘I’ve been charged with Grace’s murder,’ I say. ‘They kept me overnight. I’ve just come from court. And I have to stay here. Court bail. I’m sorry. Really sorry, Seb.’

His face runs pale.

‘You’ve been charged? But how?’ he says, plainly shocked.

‘They think I killed her, Seb.’ Without warning, my eyes begin to redden.

‘I’ve been trying to find out what happened to you all night, but those guys, the police, they can be real arseholes,’ he says, and then holds me in a hug.

He leads me inside and to the kitchen. For a second, we look at one another saying nothing. Suddenly I feel exhausted and dirty. I fight the idea of a bath but I need one, my skin is itching hot in place. There’s a part of me that thinks of this dirt on my skin as an amulet. Had it protected me until I had my first bath in years, just upstairs? There’s so much I want to say, but my social skills, always uncertain, feel blown after a night in the cells.

‘Come,’ Seb says. ‘I’ve got coffee brewed.’

‘Look, if it’s okay I’d just as soon go upstairs and—’ I begin but he places a cup in my hand and sits.

‘They charged you with the murder?’ he says again.

I nod, gulping the strong coffee.

‘What did you tell them?’

‘Not much. I went mainly “no comment”.’

‘But you told them you didn’t do it?’ he says, looking into my eyes.

‘I don’t think I did tell them that. Not really,’ I say, running over it in my head.

He visibly recoils as if he’s been hit. ‘What? Why not, Xand? I can’t believe it. This is serious.’

‘Because,’ I say, and then catch myself in a thought. And then it solidifies. I look to catch my fingers trembling. And then my voice:

‘Because I’m not sure I didn’t.’

40 Friday

‘I can’t believe that, Xander,’ Seb says, shaking his head. ‘I don’t think that you could have. I remember how you were about her – you loved her. There’s no way you could have harmed her. Could you?’

‘No. I mean, I don’t believe I could have, Seb. I did love her – I still do. But they think it. And they’re police.’

‘Police can get it wrong, Xander. You’d know if you had. And importantly, we would know.’ He looks at me and sighs. ‘You look exhausted. Let’s get some food inside you.’ He starts to rummage around the cupboards for ingredients.

We would know. We. I think of Nina and how she reacted to me. ‘I need to go and see Nina,’ I say. ‘Where is she living?’

He stops what he is doing and faces me over his granite worktop. ‘Nina? Really?’

‘I have to find out about the dollars. I need an explanation.’

‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, I don’t think you’re going to get much mileage out of her. She was pretty angry after you left. And she wasn’t having any suggestion that she took the money.’

‘But we both know she did – the earring you found.’

‘I know,’ he says, holding his palms out. ‘I’m with you. I just don’t know how much good it’ll do.’

The food comes but all I can see is the sky exchanging light for dusk. I fidget in my seat, on edge. I have to see her.

He finishes a mouthful of salad. ‘I could call her. Press her a bit more maybe? I’m just not sure about aggravating her and making her even more difficult about it.’

I don’t know why Seb can’t see how important this is to me. ‘I don’t care about aggravating her. This is my life.’

‘Okay, okay,’ he says, holding up his hands. ‘I’ll phone. Ask her if we can drop round.’

‘I’d rather just turn up. I don’t want her fobbing us off.’

Seb considers this before nodding, resigned. We drive. Seb’s hands are steady on the wheel and the smell of expensive new leather fills my nostrils. After ten minutes, we turn up a street that must be hers and slow down.

‘I’ll come in with you, Xander. I’m not happy about leaving you with her, especially going by her recent behaviour,’ he says.

‘I’ll be fine, Seb,’ I say, waiting for him to look at me.

He draws smoothly to a halt. ‘Can I wait for you here?’

‘No. Really. I’ll be fine.’

He takes a deep breath. ‘If you’re sure,’ he says. ‘Red door.’