Hanging Hill - Mo Hayder [35]
Or treat it as an investigative lead.
She raised her eyes to the window, saw the frondy leaves of a silver birch moving gently against the blue sky. Some time passed. Thirty seconds. A minute. Then she got to her feet and shoved the card into her back jeans pocket. ‘Sorry, Lorne,’ she murmured. ‘But I’m not sure. Not yet.’
16
Downstairs in the conservatory, Pippa was sitting with the liaison officer. She had a diary open on her lap and seemed to be going through her plans for the next month or so. Maybe they were discussing funerals, press conferences. Outside, Mr Wood was still thrashing the life out of the tree. When Pippa heard Zoë come down she stopped talking. She closed the book and came through into the hallway. ‘All finished?’
‘Just one or two questions.’
‘That’s OK. I want to help.’
‘Lorne had a big circle of friends?’
‘A big circle? Oh, God, yes. I couldn’t keep up with it. From the moment she hit fifteen and I gave her a phone and keys to the house I only ever saw her when she brought people back here. They’re a nightmare, teenagers, absolute nightmare. Sometimes you just want to crawl under a …’ She trailed off. As if it had just dawned on her that there’d never be another teenager to make her life a misery. ‘Yes, well …’ She rubbed her arms convulsively and glanced back at the kitchen. ‘Yes. Anyway, did you want some more coffee?’
‘That’s OK,’ Zoë said gently. ‘I’ve had enough to send me to the moon and back. Can I ask you, though, about her friends? Were they mostly from the school?’
‘No.’ Pippa shook her head. ‘No, not really. They were from all over. She was always talking to people. And I think with the way she looked she – she had lots of boys who recognized her. I don’t know where she gets it from – not me, that’s for sure.’
‘But not one special boyfriend?’
‘No.’
‘Can I ask you the million-dollar question?’
‘What? Was she a virgin? Is that it?’
‘Someone’s going to have to ask it eventually. It’s not that she’s in the defence stand here. It’s just that we need to build a better picture.’
‘Yes, I know. I’ve already been told by the—’ She glanced back to where the liaison officer was sitting, studying his laptop. ‘I know it’s an important question. He said it would be, said it could be relevant.’ She put her finger to her forehead and kept it there, as if she was concentrating very hard on something. Like keeping her balance. ‘I don’t know, is the honest truth. If you wanted me to put money on it I’d say no. But please don’t tell other people that. I don’t want it gossiped about.’
‘You don’t remember anyone with the initials “RH”, do you?’
‘No. Doesn’t ring any bells. Why?’
‘Just wondering. What about the name Zeb Juice? Does that mean anything to you?’
Pippa gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. Zebedee Juice. It’s an agency in George Street.’
‘An agency?’
‘Modelling. I told you – Lorne was under the impression she’d be the next Kate Moss, so when the agency agreed to see her I was worried – very worried. As you can imagine.’
‘What sort of modelling do they deal with?’
‘What sort? Well – I don’t know. The usual, of course. Fashiony stuff. Catwalk.’
So not the kind of modelling in the pictures. Zoë felt better to hear that. ‘What happened – when she went to the agency?’
‘They told her she wasn’t tall enough. They weren’t interested, thank God.’
‘You were pleased?’
‘Of course I was pleased.’ Pippa sounded faintly annoyed. ‘What mother wouldn’t be? It was a ridiculous dream.’
Zoë didn’t answer that. Outside the conservatory four magpies had appeared on the lawn and were hopping around, making feints at each other. One for sorrow, two for joy. Three for a girl, four for a boy. She could still see the big brother outside, sitting awkwardly on the bench. The one who’d got it all right in his mother’s eyes.
‘Is that all? Is that all you need?’
‘For the time being.