Becca’s voice was bright; it always was. Pip might even describe it as close to happy. She found it strange, the idea that Becca might be happier in there than she would be out. Because she had chosen to be there in a way; she’d pleaded guilty even though her defence team had been confident that if they went to trial, they could have got her no jail time. It always struck Pip as odd, that someone would choose to be there, as Becca had. Maybe it wasn’t a cage, not to her.
‘So,’ Becca continued, ‘how is everyone? How’s Nat?’
‘Yes, good,’ Pip said. ‘I saw her a week and a bit ago. Her and Jamie Reynolds. They seem to be doing really well, actually. Happy.’
‘That’s good,’ Becca said, and Pip could hear the smile accompanying her words. ‘I’m glad she’s happy. And have you made any decision about the libel lawsuit yet?’
Truthfully, she’d almost forgotten it. DT taking up too much of her brain, winding round and round it like tape. Christopher Epps’ card was still sitting, ignored, in that same jacket pocket.
‘Well,’ Pip said, ‘I haven’t spoken to my lawyer since, or Max’s. I’ve been a bit distracted. But I already told them my answer. I’m not recanting and I’m not apologizing to him. If Max wants to go to a full trial, that’s on him. But he won’t get away with it twice; I won’t let him.’
‘I’ll testify,’ Becca said, ‘if it happens. I know I already told you that. People need to know what he is, even if it’s not a criminal trial, not real justice.’
Justice. The word that always tripped Pip up, brought the blood out on her hands. That word was her prison, her cage. One glance down and yes, there Stanley was, bleeding out across her hands. She could talk to Becca about him if she wanted to, someone else who knew him as more than Child Brunswick. Becca and Stanley had even gone out twice before deciding to just be friends. Becca could listen, even if she couldn’t understand. But, no, Pip didn’t have time for that, not now.
‘Becca, um, I’m…’ she began, unsteadily. ‘I actually needed to ask you something. Quite urgent. I mean, it’s not going to sound urgent. But it is. It’s important but I can’t really explain why to you, not on the phone.’
‘OK,’ Becca said, some of the shine gone from her voice. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes, fine,’ Pip replied. ‘It’s just, well, I need to know what Andie called her first hamster.’
Becca snorted, taken aback. ‘What?’
‘It’s… it’s a security question. Do you remember what she called her first hamster?’
‘A security question for what?’ Becca asked.
‘I think Andie had an email account. A secret one. One the police never found.’
‘AndieBell94,’ Becca said the words in one quick stream. ‘That was her email address. The police definitely asked about it at the time.’
‘This is another account she used. And I can’t get on it unless I answer the security question.’
‘Another account?’ Becca hesitated. ‘Why are you looking into Andie again? Wha—Why? What’s going on?’
‘I don’t think I can say,’ Pip said, holding down her knee to stop her leg rattling. ‘This call is being recorded. But it might be something… important to me.’ She paused, listening to the light swell of Becca’s breathing. ‘Life or death,’ she added.
‘Roadie.’
‘What?’ Pip said.
‘Roadie, that was Andie’s first hamster,’ Becca sniffed. ‘I don’t know where she got that name from. She got him for her sixth birthday, I think. Maybe seventh. I got one a year later and called him Toadie. Then we got our cat, Monty, who ate Toadie. But her hamster, he was Roadie.’
Pip’s fingers thrummed, ready.
‘R-O-A-D-Y?’ she asked.
‘No. I-E,’ Becca said. ‘Is this… Is everything OK? Really?’
‘It will be,’ Pip said. ‘I hope. D-did Andie ever mention someone called Harriet Hunter to you? A friend?’
Silence down the line, the background hum of nearby voices. ‘No,’ Becca said eventually. ‘I don’t think she did. I never met anyone called Harriet. Not that Andie ever really had people over at the house. Why? Who is she?’
‘Becca, listen,’ Pip said, her fingers fidgeting against the phone. ‘I’m going to have to go, I’m sorry. There’s something … and I might not have much time. But I will explain everything to you when it’s over, I promise.’