‘Are you kidding? I’m desperate to take a few months off work and see the world. You know that.’ Courtney is self-employed at the salon and her boss has said she can continue there when she gets back. I doubt it’ll be the same for me with Elspeth. But that’s nine or ten months away. Anything can happen before then. I only have to give a month’s notice, anyway.
I lower my voice. ‘Something a bit weird happened earlier.’
‘Oh, yes?’
I tell her about finding the necklace. ‘I think it belonged to the girl before me. Her name was Jemima apparently. But the strange thing is, she looked a lot like me.’
She stirs her hot chocolate thoughtfully. ‘That’s a bit odd. If it was Jemima’s, why would she carry a photograph of herself inside it?’
I hadn’t thought of that. Courtney has always been the more analytical one of the two of us. ‘So you don’t think it belonged to my predecessor?’
She shrugs. ‘Unless she thought a lot of herself.’
‘Then why would Kathryn tell me it was Jemima’s?’ I think back to our conversation. Did Kathryn say it was Jemima’s? Or did I just assume that?
Courtney bends down to retrieve her bag. ‘I need to go. My shift starts in ten minutes. But before I do …’ She takes her phone from her bag and snaps the two of us together.
I roll my eyes.
‘Come on! You’re so photogenic.’
‘Just this once.’ She knows I hardly use Instagram. I have about two photos on my account, both of fluffy dogs.
She winks at me as she does up her coat. It’s nearly ankle-length in the softest powder blue and looks a lot more expensive than it was. Courtney has a way of making anything look stylish.
‘What are your plans for the rest of the day?’ she asks, as I push my chair away.
‘I’m not sure. I’m at a bit of a loose end, really.’ I must look a bit crestfallen at the thought of spending the rest of the day alone because she says, ‘Why don’t you come to the pub tonight? Kris and the guys are playing. I know you don’t want to see Vince, but all the gang will be there. They’re your friends too. And you’ll have to face Vince sometime.’
She’s right. I’ve been very unsociable since Christmas. And it would be fun to go out this evening. Otherwise it will be another night in with Elspeth, which will feel like work even though it’s my day off.
‘Okay,’ I agree. ‘Are they playing at the Pig and Calf?’
She rolls her eyes. ‘Don’t they always?’ It’s in Whiteladies Road, which is probably only a twenty-minute walk from Elspeth’s. Once again it strikes me how lucky I am to live so centrally when I used to have to take a bus from Horfield.
I’ve got hours to kill before tonight, though. We go to the counter to pay and then leave the café. It’s started raining and we huddle in the doorway for a few minutes while Courtney applies lipstick expertly without looking in the mirror. ‘Do I have it on my teeth?’ She flashes them at me and I shake my head. ‘Right. I’ll text you later. Love you.’ She hugs me, engulfing me in her favourite Marc Jacobs scent, then wafting away. I watch her walk down the street, the furry pompom on her bag swinging with each step she takes, her large umbrella nearly poking the eyes out of a passing man. I press my hat firmly on to my head and walk in the opposite direction, wondering how I’m going to fill my day.
It’s boredom that makes me do it. There are only so many clothes shops you can look around when you haven’t got much money to spend. And after finding the locket and hearing Aggie talking about Jemima leaving so suddenly, and the girl before her, Matilde, killed in a hit-and-run, I want to know more. One of my mum’s favourite sayings was ‘Curiosity killed the cat’， which she usually aimed at me because I’m so nosy. So I take a long, slow walk to the central library and pay to use one of their computers. I don’t have a laptop and the Wi-Fi at Elspeth’s isn’t great. Most of my friends are social-media queens, but I’m not a huge fan. Being off social media makes me feel protected somehow, like I’m in my own private world, although lately I have become a bit addicted to Instagram. There’s something so engaging about scrolling through other people’s photographs. It’s perfect for the voyeur in me.
I settle myself at one of the computers and soon have Google up. It takes me a while to find anything because I don’t know Matilde’s surname so instead I just type in Matilde + Elspeth McKenzie + Clifton and soon an article that was published last week in the Bristol and Somerset Herald flashes up on screen.