Private Lives

‘My closest friends at law college knew,’ said Sid, ‘but I didn’t tell anyone else. I only started showing at six and a half months, and by then everyone was too wrapped up in their final exams to notice I’d got a bit porky.’

‘Didn’t you think people would find out?’

Sid raised an eyebrow.

‘I’d landed the Donovan Pierce job before I got pregnant, and when Charlie was born at thirty-four weeks I realised that I could start work in the September after law school finished as planned. I wanted to qualify as quickly as possible and start earning some decent money so I could make a life for us. On the first day I joined the firm, I went to see Helen Pierce, ready to tell her I had a four-week-old baby, but I just couldn’t. And the longer I left it, the more impossible it became to say anything.’

‘But Sid, you should have. Instead, people think you’re not committed to the job, when you’ve just got other commitments.’

‘Wouldn’t have washed though, would it, Anna? You must know how hard it is. How few women make partner. Are you telling me it’s because men are better at their jobs than women? I don’t think so.’

Anna felt both sad and relieved. Thankful that Sid had not been the source of the leaked Sam Charles story; yet depressed that this smart young woman had been booted from the firm for being twice as strong and resourceful as the other trainees.

Her phone was ringing. Helen Pierce would be back from court, wondering where her associate was. How was she going to explain that she was in the depths of south London?

‘Can I just take this?’ she whispered to Sid, walking into the next room. She was surprised to hear not Helen’s voice but Phil Berry’s.

‘It looks like Ruby Hart was right,’ he said without preamble. ‘Louise Allerton left her job at Class magazine for no apparent reason three days after Amy died. As far as her old boss knew, she didn’t have another job to go to, and actually he was very surprised she resigned because she’d just got a promotion to beauty editor. She seemed to be loving her job.’

‘Any reason why she went?’

‘I tracked down her mother, but she wasn’t exactly forthcoming. Claimed she didn’t have a clue where her daughter was.’

‘So she could be anywhere?’ said Anna disappointedly.

‘Not quite. Turns out Mum was lying through her teeth. She wired money to a bank in Alappuzha, Kerala, a month ago.’

Anna knew better than to ask him how he found this stuff out.

‘Kerala? Is that India?’

‘The southern tip. I phoned round all the hotels, hostels, backpacker places. A place called the Sea View Hotel says she checked in late January.’

‘And is she still at the Sea View?’

‘No,’ said Phil. ‘She stayed a month, then left.’

‘And we’ve got no mobile phone number for her, no Facebook page, even?’

‘No, she’s lying low, this one.’

I wonder why, thought Anna. She was already convinced that this girl knew something about Amy Hart’s death.

‘So what now?’ This couldn’t be the end of the line. It just couldn’t be.

‘To be honest, Anna, it’s difficult to do much more without going to India, but I

don’t know how much your client wants to find this out. How much he’s willing to pay.’

‘The client’s got money,’ said Anna slowly. ‘I just need to find out if he’s prepared to spend it.’

Sam had invited her to see him in Edinburgh. She would feel too much like a groupie if she just turned up, but now there was a reason.

She would go to him. She had to go to him.

44

Sam glanced at his vintage Patek Philippe wristwatch, willing it to run slower. Only two minutes to go until showtime. One fifty-nine. One fifty-eight . . .