“Done something? You’re saying you think he might have been involved in her death?”
She looked at me imploringly. “I can’t say that, of course, but you need to look into him, you need to find out where he was when she died.”
My scalp shrivelled, adrenaline cutting through the alcohol. “What’s this man’s name? Who are you talking about?”
“Robbie Cannon.”
I drew a blank for a moment, but then it came to me. “Cannon? Local guy? The family had car dealerships, a lot of money. That one?”
“Yes. That one. You know him?”
“I don’t know him, but I remember him.”
“You remember . . . ?”
“From school. He was in the year above. Good at sport. Did well with girls. Not very bright.”
Her head bent so that her chin almost touched her chest, Jules said, “I didn’t know you were at school here.”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve always lived here. You wouldn’t remember me, but I remember you. You and your sister, of course.”
“Oh,” she said, and her face closed, like a shutter slamming shut. She put her hand on the door handle, as though making to leave.
“Hang on,” I said. “What makes you think Cannon did something to your sister? Did he say something, do something? Was he violent tow
ards her?”
Jules shook her head and looked away. “I just know that he’s dangerous. He’s not a good person. And I saw him . . . looking at Lena.”
“Looking at her?”
“Yes, looking.” She turned her head and met my eye at last. “I didn’t like the way he looked at her.”
“OK,” I said. “I’ll, uh . . . I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thank you.”
She made to open the car door again, but I put my hand on her arm. “I’ll drive you back,” I said.
Again, a glance at the bottle, but no word. “OK.”
• • •
IT TOOK JUST A COUPLE OF MINUTES to get back to the Mill House and neither of us spoke until Jules had opened the car door. I shouldn’t have said anything, but I wanted to tell her.
“You’re very like her, you know.”
She looked shocked and gave a startled, hiccupping laugh.
“I’m nothing at all like her.” She brushed a tear from her cheek. “I’m the anti-Nel.”
“I don’t think so,” I said, but she was already gone.
I don’t remember driving home.
THE DROWNING POOL
1983