The Look of Love (26 page)

As it turned
out, the statements provided by Angela Stevens and Louise Taylor
filled in most of the gaps anyway. And judging from the description
they all gave of Victoria Kenyon’s condition on the night in
question; there wouldn’t have been much she could have added
anyway. What was of interest was that Louise Taylor had been
relatively sober and she was the last of Jo’s friends to see her
alive.

“Can you tell
us anything about the boy she was with?” Shawcroft asked after
Louise had finished her statement.

Louise racked
her brains. What was his name? Jo had said it, she was sure of it.
Oh, what was his name? This was important, but her mind was filled
with worry about Victoria. Mrs Thorne had brought the nurse, and
Angela was with her, but Louise was still sick with worry. Then she
remembered.

“His name was
Mike,” she blurted out.

“What did he
look like?”

“Oh, God!”
Louise moaned. She could hardly remember him at all. It had all
been so dark, and her mind had been on other things. She remembered
Jo and the boy standing together, kissing. “He was about the same
height as Jo,” she said hesitantly. “His hair was fair…and…oh! I
can’t remember!”

Shawcroft saw
that she was losing control. “That’s alright,” he said quickly. “We
have a name, height and hair colour. It’s a start. Now, where did
they go?”

“Jo said they
were going for a curry.”

“Did she say
where?”

“No.” Louise’s
voice rose in panic. “Oh, God! I should have gone with her,
shouldn’t I! It’s my fault, isn’t it? If I had gone with her she
wouldn’t have been killed! Oh, shit! Shit!”

Shawcroft got
up and came around the desk to comfort her. “Take it easy, love. It
wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know what was going to happen, and
you were already looking after the other girl, Victoria. Now calm
down. There have been a lot of accusations thrown around, but
there’s only one person who is ultimately responsible, and I’m
going to do my best to find him.”

Victoria was
beyond help. She kept crying and crying all the time, mumbling that
it was all her fault. Louise didn’t know what to do. Mrs Thorne and
the Nurse told her to take Victoria home. The Nurse had given her a
sedative and they had arranged a taxi, paid for it and everything.
Louise hadn’t argued. She was still in shock.

Angela had
stayed with Victoria along with Mrs Thorne and the Nurse while
Louise had been interviewed, then she had gone home. She had also
been very upset and tearful. She had known Jo since school. Chrissy
had left earlier. Louise hadn’t seen her leave.

All the way
home in the taxi Victoria cried on Louise’s shoulder like a baby.
Louise was also crying. She hadn’t known Jo for that long, but all
she kept seeing in her mind was Jo in that short dress, smiling at
her. “Live a little!” she had said in the club on Friday night.
Louise could still see her dancing.

Oh, shit!

Why hadn’t she
gone with her for a curry? But what could she do? Victoria was
throwing her guts up, and she couldn’t leave her. But she had seen
the boy with Jo. Mike. They had their arms around one another as
they walked away. How could she have possibly imagined what was
going to happen?

She was the
last one of her friends to see Jo alive.

“Oh, shit!
Shit! Shit! It was my fault!”

“No, it’s my
fault…,” Victoria muttered between sobs. “Chrissy was right…I
killed Jo…”

Louise realised
that she had spoken out loud what she had thought she was only
thinking.

“At least you
were drunk!” she said in despair. “You had an excuse. I was sober.
I watched her walk away with that boy, the boy that might have
killed her. I saw him. I saw him! And I didn’t do anything!”

“It wasn’t you,
it was me!” Victoria said with more emotion. “I ruined everything
that night! I split everyone up! It was my fault, just like Chrissy
said!”

“But you were
drunk, Vikki! You didn’t know what you were doing! You didn’t mean
to get into a fight with Chrissy and Scott! And it wasn’t you that
killed her!”

Victoria looked
up at Louise, her face twisted in anger. “
Yes I did
, you
idiot!” she snarled hysterically. “Don’t you see? I wanted to break
Chrissy and Scott up! I did it on purpose! I hated him, like I hate
them all! And I did the same to Jo and Max! I got rid of him! He
was a disgusting selfish git like all the rest! It might have been
another git of a man that did it, but it was still my fault Jo was
killed!”

The taxi had
arrived outside the house, and as soon as it drew to a halt,
Victoria burst out the door and ran inside. Louise got out, slammed
the door, and chased after her.

Victoria had
bounded up the stairs and was rattling on the door to the flat
trying to get inside. By the time Louise caught up with her, she
was banging and kicking on the door in desperation, still crying
and now screaming to be let in. Louise opened the door with the key
and Victoria darted inside. She ran straight to her bedroom and
slammed the door.

Louise was
about to follow when she heard a voice behind her.

“Whatever’s the
matter?” Rosanna said in astonishment. “I heard all the screaming
and banging and came straight away.”

Louise put her
hands to her face and wailed, “Oh, Rosie! One of the girls from Uni
has been murdered! I knew her! She was in my class! And I was with
her on Friday!”

“Oh, God!”

Rosanna ran up
the stairs and grabbed Louise, hugging her tightly. “You poor
thing! You must be in shock! Come inside and sit down.”

Louise broke
away. “No! It’s Vikki! She’s blaming herself because she was drunk
on Friday night and because she split everyone up! She’s
hysterical, and I don’t know what to do!”

Rosanna grabbed
Louise’s hand and pulled her along. They went straight to
Victoria’s bedroom. The door was bolted. Rosanna banged on it.

“Victoria? Open
this door!” she demanded.

“No! Go away!”
Victoria screamed back.

“Open it, or
we’ll break it down!”

“Get lost!”

Rosanna turned
to Louise. “Dave taught me this,” she said with a smile, and
leaning on Louise’s shoulder, she raised her left foot and slammed
her heel against the door. The door burst open with a splintering
of wood. Louise stared in surprise.

Inside the
bedroom, Victoria was also looking up at the door in surprise. She
held her hold-all in one hand; and a half bottle of vodka in the
other.

Rosanna strode
into the bedroom. Victoria backed away and screamed at her.

“Get away from
me, you fat cow! Get out! Get out!”

Rosanna ignored
her and grabbed for the bottle. They began to fight over it, and
Victoria smacked Rosanna on the head with her hold-all. Rosanna
took a step back and punched Victoria on the nose. Victoria let go
of the bottle and fell over, bumping into the wardrobe. She lay on
the floor in a heap, her hold-all next to her and her nose
bleeding.

Rosanna stood
over her, waving the bottle at her. “You won’t find any comfort in
this!” she said sternly. “Now pull yourself together, or I’ll give
you another wallop.”

Victoria burst
into tears again. “I need it!” she wailed, getting to her knees.
“Give it back!” She grabbed for the bottle, but Rosanna held it out
of her reach.

“It’s no good.
It doesn’t help and it’s not the answer!”

“I don’t want
to think about what’s happened! Please give it to me! Please!
Please!” Victoria begged unashamedly.

Rosanna held
the bottle out to Louise. “Go and poor this down the sink,” she
told her.

“No!” Victoria
screamed. She tried to get past Rosanna, but Rosanna pushed her
onto the bed and sat on her.

Louise took the
bottle and ran to the sink, her hands shaking as she unscrewed the
top and poured it away. Behind her, Rosanna was lying on top of
Victoria on the bed. Victoria was screaming and crying.

“It’s not fair!
Why are you all being so rotten to me? I need it! I want to forget
what’s happened!”

“Why? That girl
will still be dead when you sober up!” Rosanna said harshly.

Victoria began
to ball and cry like a child. She kicked her feet and tore at the
bed-clothes with her hands. “It’s my fault! It’s my fault! I killed
Jo! I’m hateful! I’m wicked! I hate me! I hate me!” She began to
tear at her own hair, pulling so hard that her scalp almost left
her head.

Rosanna grabbed
her hands and forced them down, wrapping her arms around her in the
process. She kept Victoria pinned down on the bed as she kicked and
struggled, but instead of telling her off, Rosanna began to talk to
her more soothingly, telling her that it wasn’t her fault, telling
her that there were lots of other horrible, nasty people in this
world, and that it was one of them that had killed her friend. At
first it had no effect, but gradually, either because she was
tiring, or maybe because the sedative was finally working, Victoria
began to struggle less. She slowly stopped kicking, her tears came
less, and she began to breathe more evenly.

Rosanna relaxed
her grip and began to stroke Victoria’s hair, but she never stopped
talking to her. Louise sat on the side of the bed and listened as
Rosanna talked.

“You never know
what’s going to happen in life. You could be smiling with the
person you love one minute, and the next minute they’re gone in an
accident, or murdered alone at night. And it doesn’t matter if you
part in a friendly manner, or after an argument. You might think it
does, but it doesn’t. And do you know why? Because you never have
any control on the decisions other people make. After they leave
you, you don’t know what they do, or where they go, or why. They
make their own choices. And if they are bad ones, it’s not your
fault. You aren’t responsible for what they do, the decisions they
make, or how they live their lives. You can advise them, influence
them, even out and out cheat them. But in the end, it’s their
decision to believe you or ignore you.”

“But I made Jo
split up with her boyfriend,” Victoria muttered in a soft voice.
“It was my fault.”

“Did you tell
her to do that?” Rosanna demanded. “Did you say, ‘Leave him, he’s
no good’?”

“No, but I made
them argue.”

Then Louise
chipped in, “No you didn’t! You and Max argued! He wanted to go
home early but Jo said no. Jo didn’t have to stay with us. She
could have gone home with Max, but she didn’t want to! It wasn’t
your fault, Vikki! You might be a big pain in the arse when you’re
drunk, but Rosie’s right. Jo made her own mind up. She even found
another boyfriend!”

Victoria turned
her head and looked up at Louise. “But even if it was like you
said, I still started it.”

“Then I’m just
as much to blame as you. I saw Jo with that other boy. I wasn’t
drunk. I could have done something, said something. Instead I
watched her walk away with him, and a few hours later she was
dead.” Louise felt the tears welling up again as she spoke. She
couldn’t get that image of Jo smiling at her out of her head.

Rosanna now
spoke to both of them. “Stop it the pair of you. Talking like that
will get you nowhere. You can’t out guess the future. You can’t go
through life analysing all the consequences of what you do, or say.
If you did that you’d never do anything. All you can do is be
honest with yourself, and the people you meet. That way at least
you can have a clear conscience.”

“But my
conscience isn’t clear,” Victoria muttered sadly.

Rosanna looked
down at her. “Then you’ll have to live with it, and learn from it,
won’t you?”

Louise sniffed
the air. “I can smell something burning,” she said.

Rosanna clapped
both her hands to her face and exclaimed, “That bloody toaster!”
She leapt from the bed and hurtled out the door.

Louise and
Victoria stood in the doorway of Rosanna’s smoky kitchen while
Rosanna beat the living daylights out of the toaster. The toast had
been well on fire when they had arrived. Rosanna had pulled the
plug out of the wall and smothered the fire with a hastily dampened
tea-towel. Now she hurled the recalcitrant appliance into the sink
and took her vengeance out on it with a hammer she produced from a
drawer.

“There!” she
said with satisfaction when she had finished. “That’s the last
piece of toast you ruin! Assassin!” She stuffed the hammer back
into the drawer and opened a window. “I’ll clean up later,” she
said. She took her key, locked the door, and they all went back
upstairs again.

Louise put the
kettle on and made three mugs of coffee while Rosanna helped
Victoria with her nose which was still bleeding. They were both sat
at the kitchen table, the first aid kit open in front of them.

“Everyone ‘its
me on the dose,” Victoria said holding a wad of cotton-wool to her
nose. “I’m supised it’s dot been boken.”

Rosanna pressed
a damp cloth to Victoria’s forehead. “Everyone wants to hit a
blonde bimbo on the nose because they’re so damn irritating, and
because they’re always on the telly.”

“That’s dot
fair. I’m dot on the delly.”

“I’m sorry I
hit you.”

“I pobably
deserved dit, I usually do. And I’m sorry I called you a fat cow. I
didn’t mean dit.”

Rosanna smiled.
“It’s alright. I think it’s stopped now.”

Victoria took
the wad of cotton away from her nose. It had stopped bleeding. She
took a deep breath through her mouth and sighed. “I feel very sort
of relaxed and sleepy.”

Louise brought
her and Rosanna a mug of coffee. “That will be the sedative. Trust
it to work when it’s no longer required.” She got her own mug and
sat down next to them.