Here We Lie Read online

  ‘How did you even know we were together?’

  ‘I’ve known that for a while actually.’ Dan smiles. ‘I still see Charlie and he’s still in touch with Ben who hears about you through Eve.’ He rattles off the names of mutual friends from uni I haven’t thought about in years. Eve and I used to be close, but now it’s just the occasional drink. I thought everyone I knew back then had lost touch with Dan when he went to the States years ago. Eve certainly hasn’t mentioned him in ages. Our coffees arrive and Dan takes a slurp then makes a face. ‘I have to say this is not the greatest cup of coffee ever. The one I had earlier was better.’

  ‘I’ve never been in here before,’ I say, feeling stupidly defensive. ‘I’m not in the habit of going out around here.’

  ‘I just meant . . . I’m sorry I suggested this place, it just seemed convenient.’ Dan sets his cup down. He looks at me again, his eyes taking in my hair, my face. I start to blush over my unbrushed hair and paint stain. Then I shake myself. What does it matter how I look? I’m only here because Dan claims to have something to tell me. Nothing else is important.

  ‘You were telling me that you saw an article about Dee Dee,’ I prompt, hoping he can’t see how flustered I’m feeling.

  ‘Yes.’ Dan says. ‘Which must have been just the most terrible thing to go through.’ He pushes his cup away from him. Mine still sits in front of me, untouched. ‘The article I saw mentioned the fact that you’d all been on holiday, that you had a headache and Dee Dee’s brother bought some painkillers from a local store that contained traces of potassium cyanide. Of course it said what happened to poor Dee Dee, then that Jed Kennedy had taken out a civil suit against the manufacturers Benecke Tricorp. I was already aware of a scandal from South Africa a few years back. Another powder-based painkiller. I used to know people who wrote stuff about faked and substandard drugs. They’re more common than I realized.’ Dan rubs the back of his head. It’s a tiny gesture, but a terribly familiar one, transporting me straight back to our first proper date. How he took me to the pub, then dinner, eager to hear about my life, telling me about his job, then rubbing the back of his head in that vulnerable, slightly self-conscious way of his, as he confided his parents were getting divorced after years of growing apart from each other. Later, he drove me home where he followed me out of the car and kissed me on the street corner in a way that made my legs fold and my entire body tremble. It’s pointless to make the comparison but with Jed I felt overpowered from day one, as if I’d been knocked off my feet by a tidal wave. Falling for Dan was more like a poison that coursed through my veins before I’d realized I was even under its influence, taking me over from the inside.

  I pull myself together. ‘So you saw a story about Dee Dee and . . .’

  ‘And at first it looked pretty straightforward: some kind of accident at the factory, or some psycho employee adding potassium cyanide in order to kill people at random.’ Dan pauses. ‘But then I read up on the investigation and it was obvious that there was nothing, not one single shred of evidence that pointed to either of those possibilities. Plus, there have been no other cases of ExAche containing cyanide.’

  ‘Well, that could be because they withdrew the powders from sale.’ I frown. ‘I don’t see what you’re getting at. There isn’t another explanation. I handed Dee Dee the sachet myself and the cyanide was inside the sachet. There’s no way it could have got there except when the powders were manufacturered.’

  ‘Ah,’ Dan says. ‘You see, this is my point. No one found the top of the sachet, did they?’

  ‘No, they think Dee Dee probably flushed it down the loo when she went to get a glass for her water, but it doesn’t make any difference. I gave her the sachet. It was properly sealed. I would have noticed if it hadn’t been.’

  ‘Of course, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell how it had been sealed,’ Dan goes on. He leans forward, his eyes intent. ‘Suppose the potassium cyanide was added after the ExAche sachet left the chemist where Jed’s son bought it but before you gave it to Dee Dee?’

  ‘I don’t understand. What are you saying?’

  ‘I’m saying that it’s possible a tiny amount of potassium cyanide was added deliberately to the sachet then resealed so that no one would know. You just said yourself the top bit of the sachet was never found, so the seal can’t be analysed.’

  ‘That’s crazy,’ I say. ‘Not one single person who has investigated has suggested that could possibly have happened.’

  ‘Only because whoever added the potassium cyanide to the sachet knew what they were doing. They knew how to get hold of it for a start and they had enough expertise to reseal the sachet after adding the poison, so it looked just like all the others in the box. It’s clever, almost a perfect crime.’

  ‘But it doesn’t make sense. That means it was someone on the holiday! Why would anyone in her family want to kill Dee Dee?’ I ask. Anxiety swirls in my stomach. ‘In fact, why would anyone at all want to kill her?’ I stare at him. ‘Why are you even interested in all this?’

  ‘Because you’re going to marry Jed Kennedy and . . .’ Dan lowers his voice ‘. . . and you have a right to know.’

  ‘Know what?’

  The chatter in the café fades as Dan lowers his voice further. ‘It’s Lish Kennedy, Jed’s son. I dug around a bit and I found out that he was cautioned last year, when he was eighteen, for possession.’

  ‘What . . . Lish?’ I shake my head. Jed has never mentioned this. ‘Drugs?’

  ‘It happened a few months before you met Jed, when Lish was in his last term at school. Jed Kennedy is a lawyer with a lot of clever friends and the argument was that Lish was simply in possession of a bit of grass, a line of coke and a few E’s – all for his own consumption. But as far as I can make out from the volumes and the drugs involved, he was actually supplying them to his classmates. Normally for Class A’s it’s a custodial sentence but, like I say, Lish just got a caution.’

  ‘No,’ I say. I can’t believe this. Or that Jed wouldn’t have told me something so serious.

  ‘Okay, so that’s in the past and obviously Lish didn’t have drugs on him when Dee Dee died, or the police would have found them, but it’s a drug connection so I get suspicious and I keep digging, which includes going to where the guy is at uni, and hey presto, when I ask around there I’m told he’s the go-to person for all sorts of illegal stuff: mostly pharmaceutical drugs, like Viagra and Vicodin. Basically, if it’s chemicals you want, Lish Kennedy can get them for you at a knock-down price.’

  ‘You’re saying he’s a drug dealer?’ I stare at him, horrified.

  ‘Exactly – specializing in illicit pharmaceuticals. He’s known for it at his uni.’

  No way. I can’t believe it. Apart from anything else, Lish surely doesn’t have the confidence to peddle drugs – and it would totally go against the way Jed has brought him up.

  ‘It’s a weird coincidence, don’t you think?’ Dan goes on. ‘That some grungy posh boy who deals in pharmaceutical drugs at college is also the person who basically hands his sister a packet of ExAche containing potassium cyanide.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. For a start, I took one sachet on the boat and I was fine, then it was my brother who gave me the second sachet to take away with me.’

  ‘And who gave the second sachet to Martin? I bet it was Jed’s son.’

  I think back to the moment Martin had handed me the powder sachet. He hadn’t taken it direct from the box of six. So who had? I frown, thinking back. It was Lish. I can see him in my mind’s eye, taking the powder from its box and giving it to Martin to give to me. Is it really possible that he could have opened the sachet, added a few potassium cyanide crystals and resealed it while the rest of us were outside? He certainly had the time to do it; like his sister, Lish spent most of the evening after dinner inside the boat while everyone else was on deck.

  ‘Okay but still, it’s . . . it’s totally random . . . I gave Dee Dee the sachet once we were back at the villa.
It was me who had the headache.’

  ‘I know,’ Dan says, his voice heavy with emotion. ‘That’s why I had to find you.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I don’t think Dee Dee was the intended victim. Her dying was a mistake.’

  ‘A mistake?’

  ‘Yes.’ Dan holds my gaze. ‘But it was the only mistake. Everything else went exactly as planned: Lish could have made sure there wouldn’t be any painkillers on your brother’s boat to give him an excuse to buy more, thereby taking the focus away from any drugs that any of you already owned. Plus he could have easily made sure you got a headache so you needed painkillers by giving you something to bring one on. Then, having bought the powders, he was in the perfect position to add the potassium cyanide and reseal the sachet once he was back on the boat. He could have even researched where there would be a pharmacy that stocked ExAche.’

  My mouth is gaping. ‘You’re saying . . . ?’

  Dan nods. ‘It all adds up, Em. From what I can see, I’m pretty certain that Jed’s son meant to kill you.’

  June 2014

  SO I asked Mum about the waxing but she wouldn’t listen. She said that I was being silly, that I hardly had any body hair and that I was too young to be worrying about it anyway, that ‘there’ll be time enough for that sort of carry-on when you’re older, Jesus, you’ll be bringing home a boyfriend next and I really don’t need you acting out on top of everything else’.

  I know what ‘everything else’ means. The divorce is going through. Mum signed the papers last night. Daddy came around again. He was really angry about what happened on my birthday which feels like SO much longer than a week ago. I was upstairs but I could hear Mum getting upset then Daddy put on his really stern voice and said she had to accept him being with Emily now and stop taking it out on me. And then Mum lost it completely and started shouting and she must have been waving papers about because she was saying ‘what’s written here DESTROYS us as a family, Jed, it’s against EVERYTHING we’ve made together, and if I sign then your children will HATE you for what you are doing, your son already DESPISES you . . . you AND your WHORE . . . don’t you understand how much I love you . . .’ and on and on like that.

  After that there was silence for a bit, then she must have signed the divorce papers or whatever because next thing Daddy went – I heard the front door shut – and he hadn’t even called up to me or come to see me even though he must have known I would be there and that made me feel like I used to when I would stay over with friends when I was little and miss being at home, a homesickness-y sort of feeling.

  And on top of all that I have to go to school tomorrow and like literally NO ONE wants to talk to me any more and Mum won’t let me get waxed and I keep thinking about eating cake but my birthday cake is all used up so there are only chocolate chip biscuits which I don’t even really like and they just make me fat but I ate them anyway.

  December 2014

  ‘No.’ I frown at him. ‘No, it’s ridiculous.’ But even as I’m speaking, I’m remembering . . .

  IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU, WHORE.

  Suppose that text was from Lish, not Zoe as I originally thought? Suppose ‘should’ was meant literally?

  No. It’s impossible.

  Dan looks at me – an intense look full of sympathy. For a moment I feel totally connected to him, as if no time at all has passed since we broke up. But it has. Eight long years have gone by. We are both different people. Dan has no idea who I am now.

  ‘Listen.’ I lean forward. The lights flicker in the café as rain drums against the window. ‘The idea that Lish might want to kill me is mad. Lish and I get on fine.’

  ‘Do you?’ Dan leans back and raises his eyebrows. God, I remember that quizzical expression of his only too well – part curiosity and part aloofness. It used to drive me mad.

  ‘Yes,’ I snap. I’m beginning to feel angry now. How dare Dan turn up like this out of the blue, peddling insane accusations, trying to unsettle me. What’s he after anyway?

  ‘Since when?’ Dan asks. ‘I mean, since when have you and Jed’s son got on? Right from the start? Since you began your affair with his dad?’

  God, so he knows about the affair. Of course he does. I feel my cheeks redden and look down at the bowl of sugar cubes on the table between us.

  ‘I’m not judging you, Em.’ Dan sounds uncertain.

  I look up. ‘Actually Lish was angry at first, but with his dad, not me. I mean, he didn’t realize that his parents’ marriage was already basically over before Jed met me, so of course he didn’t particularly want to meet me for a few months, but that’s understandable. He was upset for his mum; I know she leaned on him at the time and he was just starting at uni, only in his second term there when Jed moved out, which was bad timing. But things are different now. He’s older, he’s accepted me.’

  ‘Or maybe he’s just pretending to,’ Dan suggests.

  I take a sip of coffee. As Dan said, it tastes horrible. My hand shakes slightly as I hold the cup, though I don’t know whether that’s because I’m angry with Dan for being so self-assured or shocked to have this bolt from the blue hurled at me, or upset that it could, just possibly, be true.

  ‘All I want is for you to have the information.’ Dan says.

  ‘Okay, then look at what you’re saying.’ I sit up straighter. ‘Leaving aside the fact that Lish is a good kid and if he was mixed up in dealing illegal drugs, his parents would know, which I can promise you they emphatically don’t, why on earth would he be handling potassium cyanide? It doesn’t fit with things like . . . like Viagra and Vicodin that you mentioned earlier.’

  ‘I know,’ Dan concedes. ‘I realize it’s a stretch. I’m just concerned that he might have tried to hurt you.’

  ‘It doesn’t make any sense,’ I persist. ‘I’ve seen the info on Dee Dee and what . . . what happened to her. Potassium cyanide is made for industrial use; it’s one of the most dangerous chemicals in the world – a single teaspoon is enough to kill twelve fully grown men. Surely you’d only want to take it if you were suicidal? And if you’re a student and you want to kill yourself, there have got to be easier ways. Anyway, I can’t believe Lish would knowingly help someone commit suicide.’

  Dan nods. ‘I’m not saying I’ve got all the answers.’ He hesitates. ‘And I’m not trying to upset you either. I thought long and hard before doing any of this.’

  ‘So why did you?’ I look up.

  Dan is silent for a moment. Then he sighs. ‘At first I was just curious. You know, I’d heard you were getting married and . . . I guess I wanted to know who to, that’s why I read the article about Jed. Someone I work with remembered Jed’s son being cautioned. I put two and two together, thought I’d do a little investigating and that’s what I found . . . then I got worried and . . . and maybe I’m worrying over nothing, but I thought you should have all the facts.’ He shrugs. ‘If you’re really sure everything’s okay with Jed’s son then obviously I’m wrong.’

  IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU, WHORE.

  The words from the text circle my head like birds of prey. Dan is wrong. He has to be.

  I push back my chair. The legs scrape noisily against the tiled café floor.

  ‘I need to go.’

  Dan’s mouth tenses. It’s a small gesture but another one I know well: Dan’s ‘tell’ for when things aren’t going to plan, though I can’t imagine what he thought might happen. I must have spent hours . . . days . . . of my younger life absorbing his face to know it so well. What does he want from me now anyway?

  We stand up. Dan slops both our coffees as he knocks against the table.

  ‘You don’t have to run off,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. I’d like to help you find out the truth.’ As he speaks his eyes flicker away from mine . . . as if he can’t make eye contact. Why? Because he’s lying? Mistrust surges through me.

  ‘No thanks,’ I say. ‘Bye.’ I pick up my coat and walk away. Behind me I can hear Da
n shoving money at the waitress. I don’t look around. Outside, the rain is lashing down but I don’t want to stop so I put my coat on as I walk. Dan catches me up on the other side of the road, just before the school entrance. He grabs my arm. ‘Em, I’m so sorry about this, I’m—’

  ‘Sorry for what?’ I pull away. ‘Throwing a grenade into my private life? Or treating me like shit eight years ago?’ Tears spring to my eyes. I blink them back, furious with myself for getting upset.

  Dan looks stricken. He’s holding something out to me. A business card. I don’t want to take it, but he’s pushing it into my hand. The rain is plastering his hair to his head, darkening the shoulders of his overcoat.

  ‘Call me,’ he says. ‘Any time.’

  I don’t look back as I race through the school gates and across the car park to my car. My hands are still shaking as I start the engine and reverse out. I’m only upset because it was a shock to see him. There’s no truth to what he’s said. There can’t be. I’m dreading finding Dan just outside the gates, but he has gone. Thank goodness. I stop to blow my nose. The business card he gave me sits in my lap. I pick it up. It’s just Dan’s name, along with the title freelance journalist, a mobile phone number and an email address. I tear it in two, then shove both bits in my jacket pocket. I drive home, take a hot bath and try to focus on some marking. Dan is wrong. He’s put two and two together and made three hundred.

  Later, I meet Laura, who is delighted now that the early stages of pregnancy have passed and she no longer feels sick all the time. She is in such a giddy mood, flirting with the waiters and full of excited baby talk. I can’t bring myself to tell her about Dan’s ludicrous accusation against Lish – and yet I can’t quite push the thought of it away either. Dan’s words echo in my head, and I’m actually grateful when Laura pleads exhaustion after just two (soft) drinks. I head home. Somebody sent that nasty text. It could easily have been Lish.