‘Quite literally,’ she said. ‘If it works, Gav’ll be next on my hit list.’

‘Oh dear.’ The kettle was beginning to screech, so I took it off the stove and starting making the tea. ‘Still with Celeste, is he?’

‘She sent me a photo of them, out for a romantic stroll this morning on the Embankment.’

I didn’t reply. My thoughts had gone immediately to the night I’d been there, Nathaniel standing behind me, looking out over the river.

‘Of course, it helps that neither of them actually work,’ she continued. ‘Some of us had our noses to the grindstone at the time, being trampled over by Mad Max.’

‘Oh, Liv.’ I brought the tea over to the table. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘How many rounds of corrections does he get you to do, exactly?’ She took a moody sip of her tea. ‘I counted seven at least.’

‘He is a stickler for perfection,’ I said, sitting down.

‘That’s just because he’s perfect. We lesser mortals can only dream.’ She flashed me a sudden grin. ‘God, I adore him but he’s such a twat.’

I laughed. ‘He is.’

‘I see your Filth Monger’s out, by the way.’

‘Yes.’ I drank a mouthful of tea. ‘I heard.’

‘Has he been in touch?’

I shook my head. I’d walked round to the shops when I’d got in and bought the evening paper. He’d been released that morning, but I’d heard nothing from him. I didn’t know what to make of it.

‘Typical man.’ Liv delivered her verdict with venom. ‘You’d think he’d at least call you to explain.’

Since this was exactly what I’d been thinking ever since I’d heard he’d been released, I could hardly argue. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I obviously don’t matter to him.’

‘Well, sweetie.’ She stood up. ‘You matter to me. Come on – leave those onions. Let’s go out for dinner.’

Thirteen

Him

By the time they’d stabilised Felicity enough to transport her, Stephens had arrived. I’d rung him straight after making the call to Giles. That’d been, without doubt, the hardest call I’d ever had to make, and for so many reasons.

He’d given his usual tight-lipped response. He hated talking on the phone. He was an MP, so he probably had good reason. I’d at least been able to report that the paramedics had detected a faint heartbeat. I didn’t mention they’d commended me on my use of CPR.

‘I’ll be there directly,’ was his only response. He hadn’t asked if I knew why she’d done it, or even what I was doing there, but I knew it was coming.

He’d rung off, leaving me standing on the pavement looking at my phone. I was probably in shock. I know I couldn’t stop shivering, and the events since my arrival kept playing over in my mind.

‘You’re quite the hero,’ one of the paramedics had said as they carried her out of the flat. ‘Without you, she’d most likely have succumbed.’

Never had words stung me so hard. A hero? If it hadn’t been for me, she’d never have been in this scenario. If it wasn’t for my crusade, Giles would never have contacted me – and if he hadn’t, I’d never have allowed the tape to be lifted from under my very nose. I was just a giant bag of fuck-ups, and everything that’d gone wrong was my fault. I had no doubt that, somewhere along the line, it’d been my fault Charlotte had gone and got herself killed. I’d already killed Aimee, but my penance for that act of betrayal had just led to more of the same.

I had to answer more police questions before Stephens drove me to the hospital, but this time I did it numbly, with little regard for what I was saying. I was just too devastated. I didn’t care if they found out about the tape. I didn’t care if they traced it all back to me. It was what I deserved. I got into the car behind Stephens, my heart feeling like it been wrung out and left to dry.

I spent what felt like hours waiting in the corridor for news. When it came, it was better than expected. Her heart rate was up, and she’d been treated, as far as was possible, for the overdose. The cuts to her wrists were only superficial, but she was in a coma and they couldn’t predict the outcome.

I was finally allowed in to see her, which was more than I’d expected. Giles wasn’t in there – only an orderly, making up the bed next to the one in which Felicity lay, still and silent against the surgical whiteness all around her. She had a drip going into her hand and a pale green blanket draped over her. As I stood looking at her, I could see it moving up and down almost imperceptibly with each shallow breath.

Her notes were in the holder at the foot of the bed, and I picked them up, scanning them idly in an attempt to take my mind of the circumstances I found myself in. It wasn’t until I turned the page that I hit upon something that made me exclaim aloud.

‘For fuck’s sake, Giles,’ I said, louder than I’d intended to.

The orderly looked over at me with a frown, and I slipped the notes back into their holder and sat down in the chair next to the bed, my head tipped back over the top as I stared at the ceiling, wondering why people couldn’t just be honest.

When he came in, his expression was unreadable. ‘I’ve been talking to the police,’ he said. ‘And they seem to think this has something to do with you.’

‘It’s why I was there, Giles,’ I stood up, and turned to look at Felicity.

‘I might have known,’ he said. ‘I should never have come to you, in the first place.’

‘You’re damned right,’ I said, angry now. ‘You shouldn’t have. Because there were certain things you omitted to tell me, weren’t there, Giles?’

He looked faintly surprised. I knew by this I’d hit a major nerve – Giles didn’t usually betray emotion. ‘Such as?’ He gave a slight shrug. ‘I gave you the pertinent details.’

‘Oh, did you really?’ I hissed, coming up close to him. ‘And you didn’t think the fact she was bipolar had any relevance? Or that she’d tried to kill herself twice before?’

It all made sense now. The faraway, absent look in her eyes in the group shots from Uni, the bubbling over-confidence from the night in the car park. I’d noticed at the time that she seemed unusually effervescent, but I’d put it down to girlish enthusiasm, coupled with excitement at accomplishing her fantasy. The fact that she’d jumped into the situation wholesale, without even a shred of nerves should’ve rung alarm bells, but the location of the whole incident – in a public car park, rather than the assured safety of the Castle – had meant I had other things on my mind.

‘I was trying to save her from herself,’ he began. ‘I…’

At that moment, someone entered the room. I turned to look, and gave a deep sigh. It was DI Brown – my proverbial bad penny. I wasn’t even surprised by now, just deeply weary.

‘Greetings, Mr Fforbes.’ She sauntered towards me, a quizzical expression on her face. ‘Fancy meeting you here. When I was notified that you’d called this in, I couldn’t help but stop by and say hello.’

I didn’t answer, which seemed to please her, and she came up close to me, for the second time that day.

‘So tell me,’ she murmured, casting a look around the ward as she did so. ‘Why is it that, whenever there’s a dead or dying girl in any part of London, up pops your cheeky little face? I’m getting heartily sick of it.’

‘Not as much as I am,’ I said, with feeling. ‘And, if you’d let me make a phone call earlier, this might never have happened.’

‘You do, indeed, hold yourself in high regard, Mr Filth Monger,’ she said, frostily. ‘If only us mere mortals could be so sure of ourselves.’

I turned from her, and looked again at Felicity. ‘That…’ I gestured to her. ‘…is what you should be worrying about. That’s the end result of Rick Palmer stealing from me.’

‘This was his doing?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He was blackmailing her.’

‘More blackmail?’ She gave a sharp laugh. ‘You’re just a walking conspiracy theory, aren’t you Mr Fforbes?’