Only We Know by Karen Perry Read Free Book Online Page B

his
     head, he looked at me as if I was someone he didn’t know who had just walked in on
     something private. I stopped, and something about his expression changed, a warning
     sharpening his stare that seemed to say,
Not now, not here, with all these people
     around us
. So I turned away, feeling let down and somehow ashamed, which was
     stupid, I know, given the circumstances – his adored mother was lying dead in the
     hearse, after all. ‘You’ll come to the grave?’ Luke had said, clasping
     my hand in both of his. ‘And back to the house afterwards?’ But after the
     look Nick had given me, I couldn’t. Too cowardly to face him.
    The wind whips at my hair and I feel the
     rain on myface. My legs ache as I trudge
     through the sand and I resolve to walk past the last house, then turn back, but before I
     reach that point I see her.
    A small figure perched on a rock, watching
     me. Grey jeans and flip-flops, the hood of her parka pulled over her head, but I
     recognize her and, for just an instant, I hesitate before approaching her. The wind
     draws a thin line of cigarette smoke from her mouth, her eyes fixed on me as I get
     close.
    ‘The vultures circle,’ she says,
     her voice glacial.
    ‘Julia.’
    ‘Come to pick over the spoils, have
     we?’
    I stop a couple of metres from her and
     choose my words carefully. ‘I came because I was concerned, and because I care
     about Luke.’
    ‘Do you indeed?’ Her voice sharp
     with sarcasm.
    ‘Okay. So we’re not exactly
     close, but there was a time when we were children, our families …’ Something about
     the way she is watching me makes my words dry up.
    Her eyes narrow as she puts her cigarette to
     her lips and inhales. ‘You and those boys.’ Her voice is dead flat but I
     feel the spike of an accusation.
    Her eyes flicker over me, cool and
     assessing, and I can’t help feeling self-conscious. Even now in the grip of her
     anguish, Julia Yates remains the same well-groomed, sophisticated woman she was two
     nights ago in the Morrison. Her feet are partially buried in the pale sand, toenails
     peeking out – a vibrant red to match her fingertips – and strands of ash-blonde hair
     escape from beneath her hood. But there is a tightness about her face now, her mouth
     pinched into a grim line, and her face looks raw.Her glittering charm has taken flight, leaving a cool
     creature with narrowed eyes laden with suspicion.
    ‘When I saw you just now coming up the
     beach, I felt a sudden flash of disappointment,’ she tells me. ‘You see, I
     thought perhaps Luke was with you.’
    Her eyes are unblinking. ‘I saw the
     two of you together. At the Morrison. I saw you on the terrace, Katie Walsh, taking the
     night air, and holding hands with my husband.’
    A beat. My mouth is dry. The statement sits
     heavily between us. She brings the cigarette to her lips again, waits.
    I want to tell her that it wasn’t what
     she thinks it was – but how can I explain it? How can I describe how it feels to be
     bound to another person by something so awful that you have to put distance between you?
     Still, I’m drawn to him because he is the one person who knows …
    ‘Look, Julia. Whatever you saw, there
     was nothing going on between us. It was nostalgia, that’s all. A childhood
     affection …’
    She frowns and shakes her head, dismissing
     what I said. ‘Oh, I don’t care. Really. Right now, I couldn’t give a
     damn. Ridiculous, isn’t it?’ she says, giving a burst of dry laughter.
     ‘I’m at the stage now where I would almost be happy to hear that he was off
     with some other woman, rather than what I’m imagining.’
    ‘What do the guards think?’ I
     ask.
    ‘A couple of them came from Forensics
     to take samples – fingerprints, carpet fibres.’ She enunciates each word clearly
     with almost a trace of bitterness, and beneath her cool veneer I’m surprised to
     glimpse a bubbling fury. ‘As for the detectives, they’re