Greenwich Park by Katherine Faulkner (primary phonics .TXT) 📕

dug out a pound, keyed in the hot chocolate option at the drinks machine. The machine squirted a hot brown stream into a beige cup. I took the drink and slumped back into my chair. When I’d finished it, I massaged my bump, hoping to feel the reassuring shift of movement in response to the sugar, a kick or an elbow. Nothing. I stared at my shoes, tried not to make eye contact with the drunks.

When Charlie and the detective emerged they were laughing like best mates. He was told he could go home. The detective even shook his hand, glanced at me wryly, as if they were all boys together, and I’d caused a whole load of unnecessary fuss.

I called a cab, waited outside the station. Charlie stood with me, but refused to meet my eye.

‘Just tell me, Charlie. Were you together?’

‘Of course not! For fuck’s sake, Helen. Why can you never just leave things alone?’

When the taxi pulled up, Charlie walked off. I haven’t heard from him since. It’s all such a mess.

When I finish telling Serena the story she sits down and picks up her mug again, takes another sip. It covers her face, so I can’t see her expression.

‘I can’t believe he knew her,’ Serena murmurs. ‘Do you think it’s possible that the baby is his?’

So the police haven’t said anything to them about Rachel’s pregnancy.

‘Well, for one thing … it turns out she might not actually have been pregnant.’

A vertical crease forms between the arches of Serena’s eyebrows. ‘What? How?’

I put my tea down, tell her the whole story. Serena always makes mint tea. I have told her before that I like it, but I’m not sure I really do. It is making my stomach swim a little.

When I have finished, Serena exhales, shaking her head.

‘Do you think … Rachel could have been murdered?’ I ask. The question comes out in a whisper. My baby kicks square between the ribs.

Serena grimaces, pulls her spine straight, as if restoring normality. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing like that,’ she says, her voice returning to its usual confidence. ‘The police will find her. Look, Helen, Rachel was … well, she was clearly a troubled person.’

I nod, embarrassed. A troubled person who I introduced into all our lives.

‘I just think she’s probably taken off somewhere,’ Serena adds. ‘Of her own choosing. She’ll turn up.’

‘That’s what I keep saying!’ My voice sounds slightly hysterical. I take a deep breath, try to calm down.

‘You look so tired, Helen,’ Serena says, after a pause. She cocks her head to one side. ‘It sounds like you’ve been through a lot. I feel bad that we weren’t around.’

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘Still, I hope you’re not letting all this Rachel stuff get to you. It’s such an important time. You shouldn’t let it play on your mind too much.’ She gives an almost involuntary flick of one hand, as if this can all be batted away, if we wish it to be so.

‘The thing is, I still don’t properly remember everything from the night she left.’

‘That is strange. You weren’t drinking, were you?’

‘Of course not.’

‘I didn’t think so. But I mean, you remember our conversation, don’t you? In the kitchen?’

As she says it, something stirs in my memory. Lights behind a curtain, flashing. Something caught in my hair. Her thumb, brushing against my forehead. I went outside. Was she in the garden with me? The images swim together in my mind. I can’t make them out.

‘You said you’d been outside – there was a bit of something in your hair,’ Serena says, seeing my confusion. ‘You told me you’d … maybe disturbed someone. At the bottom of the garden? You remember that?’

‘Monty!’ I cry with delight. I thought I’d seen Monty, near the fire. He’d got out somehow. I’d gone to get him, to try and chase him away from the flames, get him to come inside. That’s why I’d been out there. I do remember that part. I do.

‘Yes, the cat, you said you’d been chasing a cat,’ Serena is nodding encouragingly. ‘And then you saw a couple or something – at the end of the garden?’ She hesitates. ‘You did say … that you’d had a bit of a row with Rachel?’

My sense of relief evaporates. ‘That’s the bit I don’t really remember properly. I mean I remember getting angry with her. I know I shouted.’ I ball my fingers into fists. ‘It wouldn’t matter if I could just know for sure she is all right, but –’

‘Hey, don’t get upset.’ Serena comes close, wraps her slender arms around me, like a necklace. I smell her perfume again, deep and sensuous. It makes me think of black flowers. ‘You’re under such a lot of pressure,’ she says. ‘Pregnancy does strange things to you – it’s stressful. Don’t read anything into it. I forget things all the time.’

I shake my head, feeling tears welling in my eyes. ‘This is different. People forget to turn the oven off, or take their keys with them when they go out. You don’t forget whole chunks of time.’ I pause. ‘What if …’ I lower my voice. ‘What if it was because of me? I should never have shouted at her, told her to get out. What if something happened to her, and it’s my fault?’

Serena’s eyes grow wide. ‘Helen, don’t be ridiculous! None of this is your fault.’

I wipe my face, sniffing into my cuff. ‘It’s so strange though. How can she have just disappeared? How can no one have seen her leave?’

Serena shrugs. ‘It was busy. People were drunk. Why would they notice a girl they didn’t know leaving a party?’ She stands up, places two hands on her lower back. Her belly looks so much bigger now. ‘If people aren’t looking for things, they don’t see them.’

I watch her as she gazes out of her window, massaging the bottom of her spine with her fingertips.

‘Serena,’ I say. ‘I need to tell you something. Something about Rachel. I