Playing Dead by Vena Cork

Author:Vena Cork [Cork, Vena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lume Books
Published: 2020-05-20T22:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

Jazz has fallen under a train.

The train she was waiting for when I left her.

Last night, when I’d been walking the streets wishing her dead, she already was.

‘The police found her phone on the track. My number was the last one she called so they contacted me to find out who she was…’ Georgie shudders. ‘They didn’t recognise her, you see. It wasn’t possible… ’ Her voice trails away. ‘Where were you? I don’t understand. You were both getting the same train.’

Jazz is dead.

The unreal feeling is creeping up on me again.

‘Where were you, Rosa?’

I drag myself back to the here and now. ‘I left before the train came. She said something. It upset me.’

‘You had a row?’

‘No. Nothing like that.’

‘It must have been pretty dire if you couldn’t even stick with her as far as Gospel Oak.’

Georgie can’t keep her mouth shut. I learnt that last night. So I’m not about to tell her anything. ‘Have the police interviewed you in person, or over the phone?’

‘They’re here now. They want to talk to you, too.’

‘How come?’

‘I told them the three of us spent the evening together.’

Right on cue, there’s a noise in the corridor and Miles Miller comes into my room followed by two men. One is short and bald, the other tall and skinny. Cartoon policemen.

‘Rosa, these officers want a word.’ His eyes are sharp and curious. ‘I’ll leave you to it then, shall I?’ He turns to one of the men. ‘Have you finished with Miss Mason? Only we’re working to a tight schedule today and I need to make a start.’

‘That’s fine, sir.’ Skinny nods at Georgie. ‘Thanks. We’ll be in touch if we need anything more from you.’

I wonder how long it will be before cast and crew know what’s happened. I suspect no longer than it takes these officers to establish my details – Miles is heading towards the set like a sprinter after the starting gun.

Skinny’s the lead detective. He’s restless and twitchy, eyes darting right and left, making a mental inventory of everything in the room. Baldy looks how I feel. I’ve been up all night. I suspect he has too. He subsides on to my sofa and for an instant his eyelids flicker and close.

Skinny, however, is on fire. ‘Ms Mason says that when you left her last night she was under the impression that you and Ms Jones were taking the same train.’

‘Yes.’

‘So how come you weren’t there when the incident occurred?’

Incident. Why is he saying incident? Shouldn’t he be saying accident?

‘I had to leave.’

‘Why was that?’

‘She told me something that I found upsetting.’

He frowns. ‘Are you saying you argued?’

‘No.’

‘Then what?’

‘It was about something she claimed had happened many years ago.’

‘Which was?’

‘You don’t need to know.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that, Ms Thorn.’

‘There’s no way it could be connected with her accident.’

‘I still want you to tell me.’

We lock eyes. Eventually I look away.

He doesn’t.

But I don’t want to tell him. I have this stupid notion that if I keep it in my head maybe sooner or later I’ll forget she said it.

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