‘You should have thought about that before you had sex with her... twice,’ I pointed out sourly.
Lottie is brought back to life, sitting with us. As all of this unfolds, how she played us all, made us look like fools. Her plan has worked; she wanted to hurt Davian and now she has. She continues to haunt us from her grave. I can almost see her with her long brown hair, wearing that innocent expression on her face. Lottie wasn’t as innocent as I thought. She caught us in her web. Me, what was I to her? Friend, companion, a shoulder to cry on, ally, fool? Davian: obsession, lover, tormenter.
‘Emily, Lottie’s mother, told me she saw you outside her house. What were you doing there?’
‘I went to confront Lottie to leave me the fuck alone. She kept telling me I couldn’t use her and throw her away.’
‘In her defence, you did use her and throw her away,’ I said dryly.
He sighs and rubs his temples. ‘I’m aware I made a mistake. Twice... Lottie wanted me-‘
‘She wanted you to leave Melissa to be with her, is that it?’ I said, cutting him off.
‘And when she realized I wasn’t going to do that, she got murdered.’
He sounds like someone who had a motive to have her killed. She wanted him to leave the safety with Melissa to be with her.
‘Davian, I’m going to be very frank here. Are you sorry she’s dead?’ I ask.
The question is crude, but given Davian’s questionable morals, I had to ask.
Davian’s eyes go wide. ‘Of course, I’m sorry she’s dead.’
He stood to leave and I walked him to the door.
‘This is a lot to take in,’ I said.
‘I should have told you from the start; I should have told you as soon as...’
‘Davian, can I ask you a question?’
‘Do you have to ask?’
‘During the time when you were a bit... hard on her... did you give her a photograph with a neon heart?’
He stares at me blankly. ‘Yes, I did.’
I thought he would ask me how I knew but he didn’t. Either he presumed Lottie might have told me, or he had too much on his plate to ask me about it. After Davian left, I took out the photo from my bag and turned it over as if I would find something. There is nothing written there.
***
Lottie’s Recordings. Clip twenty-one
I had to go and find out myself. I saw what I needed to see. Now, I know that it was all a fantasy; I couldn’t believe I left a man who loved me for this! I can’t take it anymore, him jerking me around. I had to see it to believe it. I did the unthinkable. I could have been fired if I were caught. I didn’t tell anyone, not even Lilia. I kept my workload so I could stay behind when everyone left and I made sure Giselle wasn’t there either. I went to her office. Her laptop was password protected, but I didn’t need it. I went to her filing cabinet instead, where she kept her staff records. I had to make sure; I didn’t want it to be true. I found his file and his address was in Westminster, not Chelsea. Then to whom did that apartment belong? What else was he lying to me about? I knew it! God, I can’t believe I had been so foolish and gullible.
The next morning, I borrowed my mum’s car and I found the apartment in Westminster. I waited three hours until Davian came out with her. I got out of the car and stood far enough away so he wouldn’t see me. He was holding her hand, smiling and giggling like a pair of teenagers. The way he looked at her, full of compassion, kissing her forehead; he never did that with me, and never will. He loved her, not me. He isn’t going to leave her and has no intention of doing so. He was giving me false hopes and wasting my time. I left Abdel for him. I have given him my body. He went as far as showing up at my parents’ house when I stayed over the weekend. My mum had seen me with him and was asking too many questions. This is too much. Did Davian actually think that he could treat me this way and get away with it? I will not be defeated by a bad man who will not love me back. He made me shit all over my relationship, now I’ll shit all over his. I drove out there sobbing. I hate her! What does she have that I don’t? I despise her. I want to hurt her. I fucking hate her. But the person I hate the most is Davian. I want to hurt him the most.
***
I can think of endless reasons why Lottie hated Melissa with every fibre of her being, cursing her very existence. Lottie hated Melissa because she had Davian. Lottie hated Melissa because he was hers. Lottie hated Melissa because she was the one he went home to. Melissa did nothing to her. Or did she? Did Melissa find out and kill Lottie? Could it be? No. Lottie sounded here as if she was plotting something. The person I hate the most is Davian. I want to hurt him the most.
My phone goes off, causing me to jump. It’s Lottie’s mother.
‘Wait, calm down, I can’t hear you,’ I say over the hysteria of tears and loud sobs.
‘They are going to exhume her grave.’
My legs give way as I slump down on the chair. The room spins. I’m not sure if I heard her right.
‘What?!’
‘Oh, I don’t know, as if this hasn’t been painful enough.’ She sniffs. ‘The police came to let me know. Why can’t they just let my baby rest in peace?’
Why dig out her grave? Didn’t they have what they wanted from the autopsy? Something is new in the investigation. I wish I knew what.
‘Apparently the police found something. They wouldn’t tell me, of course.’
Her mum sobs again. Why is she telling me this?
‘When are they are going to exhume her?’ I ask.
‘What?’
‘When?’
‘I think its tomorrow, why?’
‘No reason.’
I do have a reason. I’m going to go to the cemetery and see for myself. After I put the phone down, I go to the bathroom. My cheeks are hollow and my eyes are hooded; signs of no sleep are showing now. I open the cabinet and pop two aspirins and wash them down with tap water.
The fridge is empty. I ran out of milk and bread. I sigh and put my hand through my hair. The police are digging out her grave. Lottie was buried just a few weeks ago. Why dig up the grave? What did they find?
Chapter Thirty-Two
Six feet under. Why that expression? Not from the Richmond Cemetery, where Lottie’s coffin is buried under that soil. As if this hadn’t been traumatising enough, now this? What possible reason have the police has to dig up her coffin? The police won’t exhume the grave in broad daylight, so I go there when it starts to get dark.
I make out DC Gallagher in the distance. With my heart thumping in my mouth, I lurch towards a tree, not close enough, but not far enough. I climb up the tree and wait with a hoodie over my head to conceal myself. It’s dark, but I’m not taking any chances.
There is another bloke with DC Gallagher, most probably the pathologist, who looks my age. There are three workers, from the cemetery I presume, and two people in white bodysuits, the forensics. There is a power shovel; in it is a man waiting and this is too upsetting. DC Gallagher says something to the one of the workers and the worker nods at the man inside the power shovel.
The leaves scamper in the wind, but the humming of the engine fades that out. I close my eyes shut, not wanting to see this, but I have to. I have to see Lottie’s coffin rising back from the earth, not letting her rest in peace. If my mother were here to see this, she’d start to cross herself and pray. It seems blasphemous, against God, against nature. A chill runs down my spine. What are they doing? Disrupting the dead, toying with the order of things. This is not how it’s supposed to happen, my friend being killed, buried, and then have her coffin dug up.