‘Can we plant it when we get back?’ asks Wilfie, as they walk to the car.
‘Sure, little man,’ she says, but her mind is still mulling over what Frances has told her.
Louise had purposely targeted her.
But why? Just so Emilia could write her story, or was there more to it? Frances had said that Louise knew Trevor. Yet Trevor had left the force years ago, surely before Louise had joined. So how would she have known Trevor?
The house is empty when she arrives home. Wilfie rushes into the garden to show his dad the sunflower, then bursts back through the bifold doors trailing mud into the kitchen, disappointment etched on his still-baby face. The sunflower seems to droop too, as though it can sense his mood. He hands it to her in its little brown pot. ‘Dad’s not in his office.’
‘Are you sure? He didn’t say he was going out.’
He shrugs and kicks off his shoes before turning on the TV. She retreats into the kitchen, still ruminating over what Frances had said. She thinks back to her conversation with Louise on their last night out in the restaurant. Had Louise mentioned Elliot or Trevor then? Yes, yes, she had. Now she comes to think of it, she had always seemed interested in him. Emilia had thought it was because he was ex-police, but what if that wasn’t the only reason?
She fights back a wave of nausea as it dawns on her. Louise had targeted her. Not just so that she could write her story – she’d moved Toby before that, and before she’d found out that the praying-mantis murderer had struck again – but for another reason.
Oh, God. An awful thought strikes her.
She calls to Wilfie that she’ll be in her office and charges up the stairs to her attic room, turning on her computer and opening Her Last Chapter. She scrolls down to the Daisy and Ash sections, looking for clues with fresh eyes. Things she hadn’t even realized before, when she was typing it up. Exeter University. That was where Ash and Daisy had met. Elliot had gone to Exeter Uni.
And a ham-like neck and sandy hair with a double crown. Did that sound like Trevor? She’s not sure – he’s been slowly losing his hair for years and what’s left of it is shorn and grey.
A paragraph jumps out at her from ‘Daisy’ and she reads it with dawning horror.
They talked all night in Daisy’s room, slowly revealing more and more about themselves as the cheap lager flowed. She was surprised when Ash revealed a breakdown as a teenager.
It fitted. It all fitted. Elliot had grown up by the sea. He’d gone to Exeter, and he’d suffered anxiety to such an extent he’d missed out on some of his teenage years.
Emilia’s blood runs cold.
All this time it’s been staring her in the face and she never saw it.
Elliot is Ash.
And so his dad, Trevor, must be … she can barely bring herself to think it … the killer.
51
So many questions sprint through Emilia’s mind. Does Elliot know he’s Ash? He never mentioned that he might have known Louise at university, but she was called Daisy back then. Yet he must have recognized himself from the description in Her Last Chapter. Mustn’t he? But maybe not. She hasn’t told him yet, about it being Louise who wrote that part of the story. Yet his behaviour lately, the snappiness, the questioning about where the idea for the praying-mantis murderer had come from, not being content when she first told him it was a coincidence. Because he knew. He already knew. Maybe he hadn’t grasped that the Daisy in the book, whom he’d known at uni, was her friend Louise. After all, they’d never met.
She thinks back to the day Jasmine went missing when she’d called Louise. She’d kept asking then who Emilia was with. Was that because she was trying to avoid meeting Elliot? If she had met him he would have recognized her. And the night of her launch when she saw Louise hanging around outside: why had she really rushed off? Was it because she realized Elliot was there? Maybe she’d assumed he would stay at home to babysit Wilf.
And what about Trevor? He always reads her novels, sometimes pointing out an inaccuracy that Louise might have missed. He would definitely have recognized the story if it was about him.
She shuts down her computer. Her whole body is shaking and she feels as if she might throw up. Did Trevor kill Louise to shut her up when he realized what was going on? But how would he have known Daisy was Louise? He’d never met Louise … or had he? Oh, God. She grips the edge of the desk and levers herself up, her knees buckling. She needs to get a grip. Wilfie is downstairs and she has to leave to pick up Jasmine in ten minutes.
She practically hugs the wall as she descends the stairs, not trusting her own legs. Wilfie is still where she left him in front of SpongeBob. Every now and again he erupts in laughter. She blinks back tears. This will devastate him. Destroy the family. His grandfather might be a serial killer, he’s –
Emilia jumps when she hears the front door slam, then the clink of keys being dumped in the pot in the hallway. Elliot walks into the kitchen whistling an Oasis song.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ He stops when he sees her. ‘You look terrible. Is everything okay?’
She’s just about to answer when she hears another voice, equally familiar, from behind him. Elliot steps aside to reveal Trevor, standing there with a sheepish expression and his arm in a sling. ‘Dad had an accident at work. I went to pick him up and bring him back here for a few days. That’s okay, isn’t it?’
She can’t answer for a few seconds and just stares at Trevor in shock.
Trevor lifts his sling up and arches a shaggy eyebrow. ‘Stupid of me. I fell over chasing a shoplifter.’ He has a bruise forming on his cheekbone. Is he telling the truth, or was it the result of an attack he’d made? The smile slips off Trevor’s face. ‘Are you okay, Em?’
Elliot is frowning at her too.
With momentous effort she concentrates on pulling herself together. She can’t let him know anything is wrong until she’s spoken to Elliot.
‘Yes, of course. It’s fine for you to stay, Trevor.’ She can hardly say no. ‘I need to pick up Jas. Trevor, you sit down and El can make you a brew.’
He smiles uncertainly and joins Wilfie on the sofa.
Elliot turns towards the kettle, switches it on, and lowers his voice: ‘It’s okay for him to stay, isn’t it? I know it’s not ideal, but they talked about concussion.’
‘I’m going to take Wilf with me to pick up Jas. Give you the chance to … er … help your dad.’
His eyes widen. ‘That’s not necessary.’
‘It’s fine.’
His eyes narrow. ‘What’s this about?’
‘Nothing. Wilf,’ she calls. Her son gets up reluctantly, dragging his feet to the door. Elliot looks puzzled as Emilia leads Wilfie into the hallway to put his shoes on.
‘Okay. Well, see you in a bit then. Drive carefully.’
Jasmine is full of it on the way home, regaling her with tales of the netball match and how she’d scored three goals. She smells of sweat and body spray.
She’s relieved when Jasmine turns up the radio – some dance tune is playing on Radio 1 – and sits beside her with her eyes closed. Wilfie is in the back seat fiddling with a Lego car he’d grabbed on the way out. It takes every ounce of energy Emilia has to act normally.