Chapter 47

‘Killed?' Mr Stanhope says, face pallid.

‘Bella?' Tom's voice has a hint of a warning tone to it.

‘Hang on just a moment. Are you saying Frank Hardy is dead?' Mr Stanhope asks. His manner is dark, suspicious. I don't like it. My mind is buzzing, spinning. Is this a trick question? Why is he saying this? Frank has been confirmed dead. He just said so. Didn't he? He's the Limes Park victim that was on TV just now. My sister is being held in custody for his murder. My eyes dart from Tom to Mr Stanhope, and for a moment they look like giants looming over me as I shrink into myself, wanting to fade, vanish.

‘I…um…' Stanhope and Tom continue to look at me – waiting. ‘I thought…' And then I hear an amplified roar of laughter from the TV in the living room. Someone has opened the door, and then the warmth of another body next to me and the aroma of perfume, strong and exotic.

‘Everything okay?' Daisy asks, taking a bite of an apple. ‘Gosh, what's with the long faces, who's died?' she says through a mouthful of fruit. I look round at her pleadingly, eyes stinging. She stops chewing, swallows, wipes the side of her mouth with her knuckle. ‘Shit, has someone actually died?'

‘Look, I think there's been some kind of…' Tom begins.

‘It appears, Daisy,' Mr Stanhope says firmly, cutting across Tom like an opposition MP in the House of Commons. ‘That Bella thinks Mr Hardy has been murdered.' I didn't say that. Why is he twisting things? Stanhope rubs his thin, dry lips with his finger, regarding me beneath knitted brows.

‘Mr Hardy?' Daisy asks, bewildered. ‘The actor!!!? Oh my God. I love him. He's only young. Shit, what happened? Was it cancer?' Her hand flies to her chest. ‘Don't tell me it was suicide. So many artists can't take the pressure of trolling. I blame social…'

‘Not the actor, Daisy,' Tom interjects, running a hand over his face, ‘Frank.' Daisy frowns and her forehead creases. ‘Zelda's Frank.'

Daisy makes an O shape with her lips, looks at me and blinks. ‘No way? When?' She gasps, apple in hand.

‘The police came round earlier,' Mr Stanhope clarifies, and Daisy shakes her head, said she'd spoken to them too. ‘They were looking for Zelda, said her boyfriend was reported missing.' Missing? Not dead? A cocktail of relief, fear and panic rips through me.

‘They didn't say anything about Frank to me. They just asked if Zelda was in and if I knew where she was,' Daisy says to Mr Stanhope, then looks at me and mouths Sorry. She thinks she's said too much. I tell her it's okay, that Mr Stanhope clearly knows more about the case than we do. ‘They said they had this address for Zelda on their records?' Daisy shrugs.

‘She lived with us for a while. When we first moved in.' Tom sighs loudly through his nostrils. ‘She was in-between flats. Don't tell me she still hasn't updated her records?' Tom says to me, tiredly.

‘It hasn't been that long.' I rub the back of my neck. ‘You know what she's like.'

‘I think we're missing the point here,' Mr Stanhope says, miffed. ‘Bella, why would you think Mr Hardy is deceased?'

I swallow. All eyes are on me. ‘I didn't mean him,' I stammer. I look at Tom for support but his face is blank. ‘I was talking about that poor guy on the news just now.' I wave a hand in the direction of the blaring TV. ‘The one found in Limes Park.' They continue to stare at me. Stanhope flicks a glance at Tom. He doesn't believe me. ‘It really freaked me out. Sorry about the confusion.'

The silence is long and agonising, and then Tom says, ‘Poor sod.' And the mood immediately softens, almost as if a switch has been flicked on. ‘Limes is great during the day but at night…'

‘I gave them her address, by the way,' Mr Stanhope announces, and our eyes rocket towards him. How could he possibly know where Zelda lives? ‘I helped her move, remember?' he says, clearly noting my confusion. Of course, he did. Zelda had a lot of stuff, was low on cash, and Tom was too stingy to hire a man with a van, so asked Stanhope if he'd help transport some of her belongings in his VW estate. Zelda didn't even see him that day. I'm sure of it. She was inside rearranging furniture and unpacking boxes.

‘I reckon Mr Hardy might be on the run,' Mr Stanhope says, ‘they wanted to know if I'd seen him recently, how well I knew your sister, what she was like. I told them I knew her very well indeed.' Liar. ‘That I was close friends with the family.' This man is unbelievable. ‘Oh, they were all ears when I told them I'd been to Zelda's flat,' he chuckles smugly, rubbing his thumb and index finger together. ‘She makes a lovely cup of tea, your sister, and her clementine hot-cross buns are exceptional.' So, not only did Zelda see Stanhope, she invited him in for tea and bloody cake. ‘I explained that she was a baker by trade, ran her own business and that she struck me as an open-minded person.' He cocks his head and bends slightly forward. ‘A free spirit, if you like, but feisty with it.' Very perceptive of him. I couldn't have described her better myself. ‘A bit standoffish, if I'm honest, but pleasant once you get to know her.' I bet she barely spoke to him.

‘Did they mention anyone else?' Such as Linda or me? Please say no.

‘Only if Zelda had mentioned any of Frank's friends. If Diane or Nina rang a bell. I said, no, of course. I wouldn't dream of prying.' I try hard to stop my eyebrow from arching. ‘When I asked them if he was in some sort of trouble, they shut down.'

‘Nina,' Irepeat, then turn to Tom. ‘Isn't that the girlfriend that died?'

Mr Stanhope takes a sharp intake of breath. Tom nods. ‘He told us about her over dinner at Theo and Linda's, remember? Said she was ill.'

‘Actually, no, he didn't say that,' I contradict, ‘he told us she'd died suddenly, not the cause of death.'

‘Bloody hell,' Daisy says, ‘a dead-ex?'

Mr Stanhope is looking at us aghast. ‘They did ask me to call them if I had any new information,' he says to no one in particular, a note of glee in his voice. ‘And, of course, now I'll have to if you say his ex-girlfriend mysteriously died.'

For fuck's sake, why does he have to twist everything I say? ‘No, I…Nina…'

‘He told us Nina had died but that doesn't mean it's true,' Tom suggests, coming to my rescue. ‘Maybe she dumped him and he wanted a bit of sympathy from us.' He waves a hand out. ‘Maybe she's dead to him – metaphorically.'

‘Or she might be actually dead,' Daisy pipes up. ‘He might've killed her.'