‘This is a fucking mess, Charlie.’
‘I know.’
I finish my wine. When the waiter arrives, asking if I want another, I nod without even thinking.
‘How have you left things with the police?’
Charlie scowls, rubs his knuckles against the side of his head. ‘At first they didn’t seem that bothered when I went in and made that statement,’ he says. ‘But now this new team have taken over, they’re all over me. Taken my phone, searched my flat. It’s because of getting done last year. They’ll pin something on me if they can.’
‘So why has Rory been arrested?’
He shrugs. ‘No idea. If Rory knew Rachel, that’s news to me.’ He pauses. ‘Can we go for a smoke?’
I wince. ‘It’s so cold out there.’
‘Have my jacket.’
So we sit on Kensington High Street, and he smokes, and I cradle my glass of wine in both hands, his jacket around my shoulders. I look over at the blinking Christmas lights, the sparkling window displays. People are flagging cabs, gloved hands outstretched. Shiny black taxis purr up beside them, their wheels quiet in the slush.
‘I know what people think,’ he says. ‘What the police think. You can see it all over their faces. They talk to me like I’m a drug dealer or something.’
He looks so sad.
‘Come on, Charlie. No one thinks you’re a drug dealer.’
‘Not you. But them. Them and my fucking brother. You know after everything, he still expects me to bring him stuff, to his parties. It’s the only reason the two of them want me around. Fucking hypocrites.’
‘What do you mean, the two of them?’
Charlie shakes his head. ‘Forget I said anything.’
‘Charlie, come on. What are you talking about? Does Serena ask you for stuff too?’
He exhales a plume of smoke into the night air. ‘No. Well. Not coke, anyway.’
I stare at him.
‘What then?’
‘It was only once recently she asked me for something. It pissed me off, that’s all. I told her no way. Anyway, she wanted weird stuff – stuff I’d have no fucking idea how to get.’
‘What?’
‘Some kind of benzo, something heavy-duty. Xanax, maybe, or diazepam?’
I’m stunned. ‘Are we talking about the same Serena here?’
He gives a sad smile. ‘I know, I was surprised too.’
‘What the hell did she want that for?’
Charlie shrugs, brings the cigarette to his lips again.
‘Search me.’
HELEN
Last night, Daniel and I watched it on the news together. I pulled the blanket up over my knees, held on to Daniel in horror. They replayed the footage of Rachel’s tearful father, his voice shaking as he appealed for anyone, anyone who knew anything, to come forward. The more his voice cracked, and tears welled in his eyes, the more the cameras snapped and flashed, as if he was setting off a crackle of electricity. Then came the photograph of Rachel – her painted face, her dark red dress. Her crooked, pirate smile. They showed a view of Rory and Daniel’s office with a police officer standing guard outside, a bit of the promo film of the wharf project. Then, startlingly, there was a clip of Daddy at Haverstock in the eighties that I’d never even seen before. I gasped when he appeared on the screen, looking just as he did in our childhood photographs, with all his hair intact, grinning away as he unveiled plans for his famous redevelopment of Tobacco Docks, shaking hands with Margaret Thatcher. Then came the footage, pin-sharp by comparison, of Rory walking into the police station the other day, his face like thunder. He was wearing his smartest suit, one I’ve seen him wear a hundred times, his glamorous female lawyer trotting to keep pace with him. I could see in his eyes that he was scared. Tears had pricked my eyes then. Whatever he’s done, he’s still my big brother.
Daniel left before light this morning. I’ve never seen him so upset, so stressed. His face when the news showed footage of Haverstock. My heart is breaking for him. He has put so much into that company. I can’t help but wonder if it will ever recover. I’m only glad Daddy didn’t live long enough to see it happen.
Rory’s arrest couldn’t have come at a worse time – the client hasn’t signed off on the next phase of the new development yet, and now they are talking about holding off until ‘things are more settled’。 The police have got the offices locked down – Daniel can’t even get in.
He’s been going to work in the library. He’s told me to call the second I need anything, if there’s any sign the baby is coming. He is only round the corner. I just nodded and turned the news back on. The police seem to tell the reporters more than they tell us. Rory still hasn’t been let go. It’s been nearly a whole day. What are they asking him? What is he saying?