The Alibi Girl. C.J. Skuse

wandered in?’

      ‘Don’t know yet. The detective lassie who came yesterday mentioned an ex-boyfriend so I think they’re looking at him for it. They won’t keep us informed cos it’s nowt to do with us.’

      ‘Of course it’s to do with us. It happened in the place we work.’

      ‘Yeah, but we’re not involved.’

      I bite down on my lip. ‘We might be.’

      ‘How?’

      ‘Well, what if it’s a serial killer? What if Tessa Sharpe is only the first?’

      ‘She’s not. I told you, they’re investigating the boyfriend.’

      ‘Might not have been the boyfriend.’

      He stops what he’s doing and looks at me. ‘What are you saying here, Gen? You saying the murderer is still around, waiting to strike again?’

      ‘Could be.’

      ‘Well, who is it then, Miss Marple? Who you got pegged for it? One of the chefs? The guy who comes to clean the fryers? Me?’

      ‘I don’t know. Nobody knows. I don’t feel safe here, I know that. It said in the paper this morning that she was… raped.’

      He points at me with his screwdriver. ‘A young lassie died in terrible circumstances. Everyone here feels awful about it. But you going round saying things like that will only make things worse. You’ll scare people.’

      ‘I don’t mean to scare anyone, Trevor. I’m telling you how I feel.’

      ‘Leave it alone. Let the police deal with it. The family are coming up tomorrow to talk to the police. We don’t want any hysteria.’

      ‘I’m not hysterical. I’m worried.’

      ‘Yeah well, I’m worried ’n’all. I’m worried about keeping me bleeding job.’

      He had nothing else to say. I don’t know why he got so funny with me, I wasn’t accusing him. Vanda and the rest of them had obviously poisoned him against me. They all thought I was weird. I say weird things. I eat my tea break biscuits in an odd manner – Chocolate Digestives chocolate first, then halved, then quartered; Custard Creams scraped out, put back together, bitten into a circle and rolled around my tongue; Jaffa Cakes chocolate first, cake second then suck the orange disc. I’d seen how they all looked at me. It was the way a pack of lionesses look at a deformed cub before they abandon it under a tree. I don’t blame them.

      On my way out through the car park, I see Lola and Kiki standing beside an estate car loaded up with suitcases and inflatables. I wave goodbye but they don’t see me. I’m still wearing the ring they gave me, except it’s on my fourth finger now. If anyone asks, I’m going to say it’s an engagement ring. But nobody’s asked yet.

      I feel better once I’ve got Emily’s warm little body snuggled against me – and we walk the long way home past the gym on Tollgate Road, where I linger outside to see if Kaden’s around. He’s in reception with a new member by the looks, a young woman in a leotard with long blonde hair and very thin triceps. They’re sitting in the bucket seats, going through some form. He’s flirting easily with her. She’s smiling, tucking her hair behind her ear. My chest squeezes painfully as we walk on by.

       If you get scared again, call me. If I’m not home, I’ll be at the gym.

      I’m not scared right now though, am I? I’m sad. Because Trevor at work hates me now, and he was my one friend. And Scants doesn’t want me calling him unless it’s an emergency. And Kaden was flirting with that woman. I want to go home. Back to Carew St Nicholas. Back where I was known and loved.

      But that’s not an option. So I go back to the flat. In the dying light I can see post in my pigeonhole. A leaflet about the new self-storage place that’s opened on the ring road. End of Summer Sale at B&M. Autumn sale at Harvey’s, fifty per cent off blinds. A circular from Vodafone about going contract rather than Pay-As-You-Go. And a catalogue. Addressed to Miss Joanne Haynes. A catalogue I know I haven’t ordered.

      A coffin catalogue.