DNA from the jawbone discovered in Epping Forest had been identified as belonging to Vincent Mulligan, a student from the University of Bedfordshire. Previously believed to be a missing person, but now confirmed as dead, funnily enough. Naturally the police had opened a murder enquiry and were conducting a thorough search of the surrounding area.
Miles ate his toasted sandwich and watched a squirrel scaling a tree. It stopped halfway up the trunk, furtively moved its head and then clambered back down to the ground. The rodent sat there sniffing the air, looking up, down and all around. Perhaps it had forgotten something, misplaced an item. Keys, or a mobile phone.
A murder enquiry was rather inconvenient. It meant that Miles was now beholden to someone else’s schedule, an unfavourable position to find himself in. The identification of Vincent Mulligan should not affect him directly as there was nothing linking him to Miles, but the inevitable consequence of a search for the rest of Vincent would be the discovery of various parts belonging to Elliot Sheeny. Of course, the police might not be able to identify the reclusive bachelor for some time, but nevertheless the writing was on the wall – and soon others would be reading it. Miles’s extended vacation in Beckenham was coming to a close and the loose ends had to be tied up before he left for good. He calculated that he had between forty-eight and seventy-two hours before the risk of capture became too great. Top of the agenda was a thorough evaluation of Sinead’s loyalty. Whether or not she was prepared, her final examination would be commencing shortly.
27
Sinead reached down to the electricity socket between the bed and the cabinet, and pushed in the plug. She inserted the other end of the cable into the laptop’s power point and switched it on. Her smartphone battery had run out of juice after she’d wasted hours playing pointless games, and now Sinead felt the urge to go online. She hadn’t checked Facebook or Instagram for several days. The digital detox had been therapeutic; not having to read about the girls’ fun times without her; not seeing their photos and comments and how much they didn’t miss her. Or worse – how much they hated her.
The truth was she just couldn’t face dealing with the situation; if news had spread about her and Joel, she preferred to keep her head in the sand. There had been too much shit to deal with since the accident, and recovering from it had used up all her physical and emotional strength. But now the need to know what was going on with her mates was like the itch she couldn’t scratch underneath the plaster cast. The boredom of being housebound with her oddball landlord was taking its toll, and satisfying her curiosity would at least provide some temporary relief.
The only way to find out was on social media. No chance would she be talking to Heidi about it again. Joel had clearly put all the blame on Sinead and no one had contacted her for her side of the story. Maybe Heidi had defended her after their meeting, but it was more likely she’d said nothing. Imogen was insecure and Joel wouldn’t want her to find out. Also, Heidi wasn’t the type of person to rock the boat. She hoped the whole horrible, embarrassing incident had been forgotten about. But Sinead had a bad feeling.
Once the computer fired up, Sinead opened the browser and logged on to Facebook. There was an unread message. She clicked on it and groaned when she saw who the sender was: her father. The message was brief: Dear Sinead, Did you get the birthday card I sent? Be really good to have a chat. We could use Skype. Let me know. Dad. Sinead sighed. The birthday card must have been sent to her old address, together with all the other post the girls had probably binned. His message would have to be answered another day. She still wasn’t ready to talk to him. Not yet.
Quickly navigating over to her news feed, she started scrolling down the regular boring comments and photos, video clips and surveys. It was so bloody tedious, and it looked like nothing interesting had happened since she’d last been on the site.
Sinead stopped scrolling. A notification from Imogen caught her eye. Sinead held the cursor over the notification for several seconds.
Imogen had changed her relationship status. She was single.
‘Oh. My. God!’ Sinead said, louder than she’d intended. She stared at the screen.
There was a knock at the door. ‘Is everything all right?’ Elliot asked from the other side.
‘No just… yeah… come in.’ Sinead clicked onto another link. The bedroom door opened and Sinead glanced up to see Elliot stood there, in his black-and-red checked dressing gown and brown leather slippers.
‘I’m just running a bath. I heard you call out.’
She looked back at the screen, mouth agape. ‘I didn’t see that coming. Fuck.’
‘Do you want to give me a clue?’
‘The engagement party – it’s been cancelled. Imogen’s changed her status to single.’
‘Well, that is a surprise. Good news, right?’
‘Is it? I don’t think so.’ Sinead didn’t want to discuss it with him; she needed time to process the news.
‘It’s great news. Now Joel’s footloose and fancy-free, you should invite him over.’ Elliot had a peculiar, creepy grin on his face. ‘Have your wicked way with him.’
‘Er… no thanks.’
‘You’ve been waiting a long time for this opportunity. Call him. I can make myself scarce.’ Elliot cleared his throat. ‘Unless, of course, you want me to be around.’
Sinead didn’t know what the hell he meant by that. Creepy – like he wanted to watch them fuck or something. ‘Why would I want you to be around?’
Elliot narrowed his eyes. ‘I don’t know… moral support, perhaps?’
‘Well I’m not calling him. I’ve deleted his number. Good riddance.’
‘You could pay him a visit at work.’ Elliot pointed at her laptop. ‘Or send him a Facebook message.’
‘No! I don’t give a shit about Joel. Okay?’
‘I see. Who are you trying to convince – me or yourself?’
‘Look, no man is going to take advantage of me ever again. Especially not Joel. He’s a fucking piece of shit… ’ She didn’t want to be dredging up all those appalling emotions.
Elliot took two steps into the room and hitched his thumbs into the dressing gown belt. He looked over at the clothes drier with her drying underwear and then turned to face her. ‘I agree. Joel toyed with your affections. He humiliated you and turned those girls against you.’
‘Exactly. I never want to see him again.’ Sinead crossed her arms and scowled at Elliot. ‘Anyway, I told you I’m going on a date with Dylan.’ She looked for some kind of reaction, but he was poker-faced. ‘Don’t you think I deserve someone who treats me right?’
‘What makes you think Dylan will treat you right?’ He inched closer. ‘You’re looking for a diversion. A substitute. Joel was the one you wanted. And Joel needs to be taught a lesson, wouldn’t you say?’
‘If anyone’s been taught a lesson, it’s me,’ she said. ‘I’ve had a lucky escape.’
‘Shall I tell you what I think you’ve been taught?’
Sinead raised her eyebrows. She suddenly realised what this fascination with her love life was all about: Elliot was trying to even the score after she’d asked about his wife.
‘What you’ve been taught, Sinead, is lie down and let them walk all over you. You’re the dogshit on their shoes. They feel free to abuse you because you never retaliate.’