Looking around at her wide-eyed friends, Clara was pummelled with the realisation she should've told them the truth about what had really happened sooner. She had edited her version of events masterfully as she went, omitting the more desperate elements of her story; they were never to hear the ignominious tale of her pre-assignation drinks in the Little Chef toilets, nor her scrupulous inspections of her appearance, hair ruffling and tossing of a friend's expensive jacket across grotty public toilets. Knowing that her £200 Ted Baker blazer was left draped over a toilet cistern was probably enough to turn Lilly homicidal. Then there was the small matter of her having sex with Cleo's stepdad. To Gemma, Lilly and Alice she had told the real truth, doing her very best to remain impassive in spite of their appalled expressions and even going so far as to add a "fuck it, it felt amazing." on the end.
"Clara," Said Alice, "why on earth didn't you tell us this before? Don't you see? Cleo probably went to speak to Austin after you told her that! He might've been the one that murdered her for Christ's sake!"
"Austin King? No! He's a useless pisshead, Alice! There's no way he could cover it up and keep it from Eleanor. If it was him, we'd be hearing about his murder all over the news too by which time Mrs. King would already be in bloody Mexico or something with a fake name and a new husband. And that would mean that it wasn't the Supplier and if they didn't do it why are they sending us these texts? Why did they make me drive my car into a bloody tree? Why did they ruin Lilly's relationship? Why did they-"
"Okay! Then we need to know where she went after she left you because from the pictures, she didn't go back to the party." Alice said under her breath. "We need to look at the security footage from outside the restaurant."
"Well, that would be a fucking fantastic idea if we actually had it, which we don't."
"Then we need to get it."
"And how the hell do you suggest we go about doing that?" Gemma hissed.
"It had better not involve running." Said Lilly seriously.
"Lilly-"
"I only run under 2 conditions." She continued, despite Alice's protests. "When my life depends on it or when some bitch is about to grab the last pair of half price heels. So no, I'm not doing shit if it involves sneaking about in Little Chef and running away from pissed-off old women in hair nets, trying to thwack me with their spatulas. You know I will just end up falling flat on my arse."
"For Christ's sake, I'll get them then! But I don't know how any of you think that we're going to get any closer to finding out who murdered Cleo if all we do is sit around and wait for the psychopath that did it to ruin our lives." Alice retorted, exasperated.
"We'll have to think of a way of getting them that doesn't involve breaking in then." Said Gemma. "Because none of us need another reason for Detective March to bring us in to the station and question us for another 7 hours. You heard what she said outside Cleo's flat the other day. She wants to bring us in for tests. DNA tests, not a game of trivial fucking pursuit. Alice, why don't you ask Tim Robbins to help you get in? I heard he just got some shifts there and he's a complete pushover, if you ask him, there's no way he'll say no."
"I don't know..."
"How else do you think we're going to get security tapes? We don't even know where they are!"
"I'll try and think of something. I'd just rather we didn't bring Tim Robbins into it. He'll tell Sasha and then you know what she's like." Alice said, Gemma sighing loudly.
"Anyway, Alice, your birthday? It's on Sunday. What're we doing? What do you want?" Lilly said quickly before Gemma had a chance to snap back at Alice.
"Oh, honestly, nothing. Please don't get me anything. And I was thinking I'd just stay in, maybe order Chinese or something like that."
"What?" Said Gemma.
"Yeah, what are you talking about? You have to go out! Why don't we go to Chaos or something? It's your 21st, you can't stay in! Oh, we can get you completely trashed!" Clara cried, shaking Alice's shoulder.
"I can't stay out late." Lilly said. "I have my dad's wedding the next morning so I'll need to get up early to get the train to the hotel. It starts at 12 so I seriously cannot afford to oversleep. Jasmine already thinks I hate her, if I show up late to the wedding it'll just confirm that. And I don't hate her, at all. If my dad thinks I do, he'll be devastated."
"And I'm going for brunch in London with my brother and then after that, I've got to come back for rowing training for the race in a couple of weeks. I can't miss it because Vicky's coming back and we desperately need to practice with her if we want to beat Durham. And then if we beat Durham we race Oxford!"
"Wait, Vicky-hit-and-run-Vicky?" Asked Lilly, raising an eyebrow. "I thought she was like, paralysed from the waist down."
"Oh, she is. But she can still row. And her name's Vicky Prescott not hit and run Vicky." Alice replied. Vicky Prescott was a woman in their year who rowed with Alice that had been in a hit and run right outside St.Edmunds almost a year before, leaving her paralysed. Dare she think it, but it all seemed a little convenient for Clara; Alice despised the girl, and despite Alice being the captain of her team, there'd been a perpetual status war between the two as to who had the real control. No post-rowing practice meet up had been complete without Alice returning sour faced over something Vicky had done.
"Right. Vicky Prescott back. And how do you feel about that?" Clara asked, smirking.
"She's a good rower." Alice answered with a non-committal shrug.
"How good will she be without her legs?" Gemma scoffed, Alice shoving her lightly.
"That was in bad taste."
"Oh, come on! You hate her, don't you?"
"It must be horrible for something like that to happen. I'm not about to celebrate it."
"Wow, I wonder who could have done it?" Asked Gemma with a chuckle and a pointed nod in Alice's direction.
"Christ, I'm not a hitman, Gemma. I have no idea. It was an unfortunate accident."
"If you say so." Gemma countered amusedly, to which Alice rolled her eyes. "Oh, and you lot, just so you know, when it's my birthday, I'm happy with pot noodle, petrol money and somebody doing my laundry for a week."
"Your birthday's not until the Summer." Said Clara with a snort.
"Yeah, well everybody was too busy losing their shit over Cleo going missing this year so nobody bothered." Clara stiffened. "Sorry, Clara." Gemma added quickly. "I was just joking. I don't care about presents."
They sat in near-silence after that, aside from the occasional crunch of a crouton. Clara made the first exit, citing the need, much to everyone's surprise, to work on her dissertation. She wasn't lying; that was exactly what she was planning to do. But up until Cleo's name had reentered the conversation, she hadn't even considered what her dissertation would be on. Those four letters for her, were like a lasso. Towing her back to that dark, dark place where the only touch she allowed herself was the shrivelled, mucilaginous hands of the Cleo only she could see.
YOU ARE READING
Trust No Bitch: Part 2
Mystery / ThrillerYou think you know the story: 4 women, a dead friend, and an anonymous texter. But think again. It's about to get a whole lot messier, as 4 British university students are about to find out. Full of sex, drugs, and deceit, you've come to the wrong...
