Gina presses her pen against her cheek. ‘Can you tell me what your new book is going to be called and we’ll put in a bit about that too?’
‘Her Last Chapter.’
‘And what’s that about?’
‘It’s about a serial killer who inks his female victims.’ She tells her a little about the plot, without giving away any spoilers. ‘It’s also kind of a revenge thriller.’
‘Sounds creepy.’
Emilia laughs. ‘Well, I hope so.’
Gina studies Emilia, then adds, ‘You really do have a dark mind. Is any of it autobiographical?’
Emilia is thrown for a few seconds. She takes a sip of her latte before answering. ‘Well, not really, no.’ Heat creeps up her neck. ‘My character, Miranda, she’s very different from me. Older, stronger. Says what she thinks.’
She’s relieved when Gina turns away to continue scribbling in her notebook.
As she’s driving home, she gets a call from Jasmine.
‘Mum, I’m stressing out. I can’t find my PE kit. I thought it was in my locker, but I think I left it at Dad’s.’ Jasmine only has PE every other week.
‘Do you need it today?’
‘No, tomorrow. Can you please go and get it?’
‘Your dad will be at work.’
‘Kristin might be in. Please. I’ll get a lunchtime detention if I forget it.’ She can hear the anxiety in her daughter’s voice.
‘Okay. I’ll pop over and see if Kristin’s in.’ The last thing she wants to do is see Kristin, but she doesn’t want Jasmine feeling stressed about this with everything else going on.
‘Thanks, Mum,’ she says, sounding relieved. ‘Got to go. Bye.’
Kristin’s Mini is parked outside the house and Emilia pulls up behind it. She hopes Kristin can locate the PE kit quickly and she can be on her way. The street is quiet as she gets out of the car, a wood pigeon cooing in the distance. She makes her way down the familiar front path and knocks on the door.
Kristin opens it after the second knock. She looks her usual glamorous self, in a pair of jeans so tight they look like a second skin and a plunging pale-pink V-necked T-shirt. Her dark hair is gathered up in a high ponytail. Her blue eyes narrow when she sees it’s Emilia.
‘Sorry to drop in like this,’ says Emilia, before explaining about Jasmine’s PE kit.
‘Come in while I go and find it.’
Emilia follows her through to the hallway and into the kitchen. On the table is a clear plastic box of art supplies, and a Stanley knife lies on top of a huge piece of card. Kristin must notice Emilia looking at it as she goes over to it and starts packing it away. ‘I was just … um, making a card for a friend’s birthday.’
Emilia smiles politely.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘No, that’s fine, thanks, though.’
‘Oh, okay. Give me a sec. Let me just check I didn’t put it in the wash.’ She bends down and rummages through a plastic tub full of clothes. ‘It’s not here. I’ll check her bedroom.’
She leaves the room and Emilia sits at the table. She moves the Stanley knife to the side, wondering if Kristin has read Her Last Chapter yet. She remembers what Louise told her about Kristin questioning her about Jonas at her launch. First Ottilie, and now Louise. What is Kristin playing at? It was really inappropriate of her to quiz Louise when they’d never met before. Does Kristin really suspect that she and Jonas are having an affair?
And then her eyes go to the plastic box and her heart stops.
Pressed against the edge, its fake yellow hair spread out like butter, is the familiar face of a troll doll.
29
Daisy,
2005
Daisy had always been a firm believer in Fate, that people came in and out of your life for a reason. And that Christmas it became apparent why she’d had to end up at the same university as Ash.
It was ironic that after she had stopped looking for the Doodle Man, when she had … not forgotten exactly, that would never happen, but been distracted by infatuation, he appeared before her, like a mirage, like a gift.
‘I’m going to really miss you,’ Ash said, that fateful day, as they hung out in the student union. ‘But you’re still okay to come and visit after Christmas? It isn’t far from here. You could visit me and then my parents could drop you back here with me for the beginning of term?’
‘Absolutely.’ She couldn’t wait to spend more time with Ash. They had so much in common: music, films, art. Daisy was her happiest when it was just the two of them.
‘My parents are going to love you, Daise.’
‘I think my dad will love you too. Hopefully next time you can stay with me and meet him.’
Ash had pulled her closer then, a leather-clad arm slung around her shoulders. ‘I’d love that.’
The sound of a car pulling up outside made Ash go to the window that looked out over the car park. ‘Shit! They’re early! Do you want to meet them now? I know you’ll see them when you come to stay but –’
‘Of course,’ she said, getting up from where they’d been lounging on one of the beaten-up sofas.
She grabbed her coat, and Ash’s large holdall, and headed outside to where a middle-aged man and a younger woman were getting out of a gorgeous old Jaguar, like the type Inspector Morse drove.
The woman was pretty and blonde, with high cheekbones and eyes that sparkled. She looked a lot younger than Ash’s dad, who was fair, broad-shouldered and ruddy-cheeked, as if he enjoyed being outside, preferably with a large Labrador and a hunting rifle. They smiled at her too, introducing themselves as Donald and Stef, shaking her hand and exclaiming how they’d heard all about her from Ash. And all the while a thud of recognition reverberated through her. Where had she seen this man before?
They were still talking and proclaiming and gesturing as Donald lugged Ash’s bag into the boot and Stef stood by the passenger door. It was cold, and Stef had a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck almost up to her nose.
‘Well, lovely to meet you, Daisy,’ said Stef, warmly. She must have been really young when she’d had Ash. ‘Looking forward to you coming to stay.’
‘Yes,’ said Donald, with a wide grin, pumping her hand up and down. ‘Hope you have a lovely Christmas.’
And all the while, an air of surrealism surrounded her as she tried to grasp the memories that were disappearing, like a puff of smoke in fresh air.
Ash gave her a brief, almost nonchalant, hug and climbed into the back seat.
And as Daisy watched Donald walk to the driver’s side, with a slight left-handed lilt, she was hit with such a vivid memory that she felt dazed.
A double crown, a wide neck like a ham. Tall. Fair.
The back of his head was so familiar, she suddenly knew exactly where she’d seen him before.
Her mother’s secret boyfriend.
And her killer.
30
The yellow-haired troll doll. The one that had hung ominously from her tree. The one she’d taken down and thrown away. How has it ended up in Kristin’s kitchen? Emilia can’t tear her eyes away from it. Panic renders her motionless until she hears Kristin’s feet on the stairs. Then she gets up from her chair, a surge of nervous energy pulsing through her.