SHE

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Haringborne is a picturesque river city with a population of some 90,000. The metropolis is built around an old town that originally housed well-known potteries and textile warehouses. Cobbled walkways are skirted by a bustling High Street and ring road, beyond which Victorian terraces and semis give way to modern suburbs and shopping centres.

The Monday after Toby Havers' accident at the Westbury Centre, the deputy editor of The Haringborne Gazette, Josie Armitage, locked her Range Rover in the local Pay & Display car park. She left her season ticket visible on the dashboard and tucked her Burberry scarf inside the neckline of her coat before hurrying along her regular ten-minute route to work.

She was usually at her desk by nine, but this was no ordinary morning and Josie planned to arrive early. She strode purposefully over the zebra crossing and up the High Street, considering the different tacks she might take at the staff meeting. In light of Saturday's terrible events it would be her duty to hold the fort for poor Will.

He was bound to be off work for at least a week, and it was down to her to ensure the next edition of the paper was ready to go to print on Friday. Josie relished the opportunity to demonstrate her leadership skills. Here was her chance to show the owner of the Gazette how older staff like her offered the breadth of experience that youngsters with highfalutin degrees lacked.

After catching an unfavourable glimpse of herself in the window of the building society Josie turned into Market Way, a quaint cobbled walkway dotted with workers and the odd shortcutting cyclist. She picked up her pace past the deli and antique bookstore and gave her usual wave to the woman behind the counter of The Market Café opposite. Halfway down the lane she fumbled in her handbag for her keys and hovered beneath the offices of The Haringborne Gazette, an impressive three-story Victorian warehouse conversion.

'Morning Stan.' Josie greeted the silver-haired caretaker as she let herself into the foyer. Stan steered his wheelchair out of his little side office and glided his rigid body into the hallway. 'Never known you this early,' he said. His hand hovered over the controller on his chair arm. 'Not in all the years you've been ere.'

Josie stood by the lift. 'You haven't heard, have you? I've called a meeting at nine.' The lift doors parted, and she stepped inside. 'Will won't be in for a while and you need to know why, so come up and join us.'

The first floor was a large open-plan space with soaring ceilings and exposed brickwork. Josie dumped her bag on the desk in Will's partitioned office and surveyed the room. She thought it far more suitable than the conjoined workstations she usually shared with the others. On her way out she glanced at the photo on Will's desk, a pink-cheeked little boy in ski-gear, laughing at the camera.

Josie's sensible brogues clonked along the floorboards as she pottered around the kitchen area, watering the plant and filling the coffee machine like she did every morning. Nothing could take her mind off her visit from Lisa on Saturday night, and how distraught the young girl had been. After Lisa left Josie had phoned Click and Adam with the terrible news. Everyone was shocked but she felt particularly bad for Lisa; someone so young shouldn't have to witness such horror.

When the lift bell rung Josie checked her neat grey bob in the mirror above the sink, then sat with her coffee and notebook at the head of the long refectory table. Adam appeared first and hung his padded jacket over the back of the chair beside her. He fingered his dark hair off his forehead and slowly shook his head.

'I'm still not believing this.'

'Go easy on Lisa,' Josie muttered. She didn't want the others to hear her. 'She's not handling it well.'

Stan arrived and parked his wheelchair at the far end of the table before Lisa slipped onto the chair next to Adam. Click made straight for the coffee machine. 'Need it strong this morning,' he announced, tightening his ponytail en route. 'Make it four,' Josie called after him. When Click brought the coffees to the table Josie was delivering the bad news to the only staff member who hadn't already heard it. The little colour Stan usually had had drained from his face, now as ashen as his hair.

Considering Adam was Will's best friend, Josie thought he was bound to have the lowdown on how Will was fairing.

'Have you seen him yet?'

'Sunday.' Adam nodded. 'I knew he wouldn't be upstairs in the flat, so I went round his mum's place.'

Josie's voice softened. 'How did he seem?'

'Good as can be expected, I suppose. Wanted to talk about it, which was pretty bloody painful for him. And me, don't forget I...' Adam shifted uncomfortably and swallowed hard. 'I was Toby's godfather, and I loved that little fella.'

Click rested his hand on Adam's shoulder, giving him a second wind.

'Blames himself,' Adam continued. 'And Eve's not helping much in the guilt department.'

'Well they've only been separated a few weeks,' said Josie.

Everyone gazed at her, not sure what point she was making. Adam broke the silence.

'Must have been tough on you, Lisa, being there.'

Lisa swept blonde hair from her eyes and gave a little cough before she found her voice.

'I couldn't take it in, to be honest. Still can't.'

'The mind does that,' said Click. His dark eyes intensified. 'Sort of dishes stuff up in small portions, so it doesn't freak itself out.'

Everyone stared off, trying to make sense of Click's theory. Stan was more concerned with practical details.

'Did he say how long he'd be at Moira's place? I need to keep a handle on who's coming and going up here, you know, security and whatnot.'

'We'll keep you posted,' Josie told him. She turned back to Adam. 'Do we have a date for the funeral?'

'Wednesday, morning I think.'

'Okay, well we all need to be there, so let's work doubly hard to get on top of the next issue.'

The others nodded their agreement. Josie was about to suggest they got down to work when a nagging question got the better of her.

'Lisa, I wanted to ask you,' she said, in the most casual voice she could muster. 'Of course, it's none of our business, but how come you were at the café when it happened?'

All eyes were suddenly on Lisa, who felt her face flush.

'I often go to the Westbury on a Saturday.' Her voice was defensive. 'I'd planned to look round the shops with a friend. She texted me to meet her up in JoJo's, and when I got there I bumped into Will.'

Josie stood to signal the meeting was over. 'Unfortunate timing, then,' she said.

Later, when the others were back at their desks, Josie lounged in the editor's office, revelling in her newfound status. She'd make sure the staff didn't slack while Will was away, particularly Lisa. There was something about the girl's Saturday story that didn't add up; it was all too much of a coincidence. And like that American judge on the telly often said, 'If something doesn't make sense, it probably isn't true.'