The Victim Page 12

  ‘Of course, there’s a confidentially clause but …’

  ‘Thanks.’ Georgie rose, leaving the leaflet on the table. Who knew if doctors told their wives about patients? Of course they weren’t meant to but it must happen. And there was no way she could risk this getting out. Maybe, she told herself as she left the doctor’s, she needed to get back to the bank. Get heavy.

  In the event, there was no need. After getting home and walking Beano along the beach, breathing in the fresh sea air, grateful for the diversion, she returned home to find a message on the landline. It was the security people. They wanted her to ring back.

  Miraculously, she got through almost immediately. ‘Mrs Hamilton?’

  Why was it that ever since this had happened, her name didn’t feel real?

  ‘Before we can speak, I need to run through some security checks.’

  She was used to this now. Before every conversation, tit was the same thing. Date of birth. Sometimes place of birth. Password. Etc etc.

  ‘Thank you.’ This time the security woman spoke English as a first language. Georgie felt a guilty flash of relief. She was the last person in the world to be racist – how she abhorred it – but at times of crisis it was so much easier to speak to someone who didn’t talk fast or used words in an unrecognisable manner.

  ‘We have some news.’

  Georgie held her breath.

  ‘The transaction was made in Edinburgh last Tuesday.’

  Georgie felt a huge flood of relief. ‘So it couldn’t have been me!’

  ‘I’m afraid that’s difficult to prove. The person who withdrew it – from one of our branches – provided the correct password and correct date of birth.’

  ‘But this can’t be possible.’ Georgie felt a mounting sense of panic. ‘That’s fraud. What about your CCTV?’

  There was an embarrassed pause. ‘Unfortunately it wasn’t in operation at the time.’

  ‘But what can I do?’

  ‘Out security team is looking into it. Meanwhile, I suggest you contact the police …’

  The police? Georgie, sat, frozen with the shock by the phone, long after putting it down. Beano pawed at her, sensing something was up. She hadn’t wanted to call the police last time but had had no choice. Sam would have thought it was weird if she hadn’t. What if someone put two and two together? Twenty-two years was a long time but not that long.

  But now it looked as though they were going to be involved again. Some sharp cop somewhere might make the connection. Thanks to the internet, the whole world was connected. Including Thailand and the UK.

  Her mobile rang sharply, making her jump. ‘Hello,’ she whispered.

  ‘Georgie.’

  Georgie froze.

  ‘Who is this?’

  ‘Lyndsey.’

  ‘This isn’t a great time.’ Her voice came out as a cry.

  ‘I’m sorry. But can you come in? I’ve got to have another transfusion later this afternoon and I need to speak to you. Please.’

  Just as well she wasn’t working. When she’d been busy, she’d never have time for hospital visiting or ringing up banks. It was, Georgie conceded wryly, one of the advantages of being the dark sheep of the interior design business in town.

  Jo still wasn’t returning her calls, despite the fact that Georgie had paid her the missing money.

  For the first time in years, Georgie found herself wishing that she had a sister to share this with. Lyndsey hadn’t had sisters either. ‘But we have each other,’ they’d often said. Now, as she walked towards the hospital bed, Georgie began to wonder how she could possibly have managed for all these years without her old friend.

  ‘You came!’ Lyndsey smiled weakly at her. ‘It’s as though we’ve picked up from where we’ve left. It’s so easy to talk, don’t you think?’

  Georgie took the thin hand in hers. ‘Yes. It is.’ She looked down at the bed where Lyndsey’s painfully thin form almost poked out from under the blankets. ‘So you’ve got to have another transfusion?’

  ‘A nuisance, isn’t it, but it will make me feel stronger.’

  She spoke brightly and Georgie found herself wondering if she would be as upbeat in her situation. Money, she told herself, was nothing compared with health.

  ‘You said you needed to talk to me.’

  Lyndsey nodded. ‘I need you to tell me what happened next.’

  She spoke like a child waiting for a story to be completed.

  ‘Don’t you see?’ added Lyndsey, an unexpected bright light in her eyes. ‘For years I always wondered what had happened to you. I was scared you were dead. Your mother thought so.’

  Her mother …

  A fleeting memory of coal tar soap mixed with disapproval wafted back to her. It wasn’t pleasant.

  She felt a flash of pity. So her leaving was all for nothing. ‘I can’t go back. I’ve made myself a new life now.’ She glanced around but there was only one other patient in the small room. An old lady who was sleeping noisily. ‘If my husband or children or anyone else finds out about this, they will never forgive me. You do understand, don’t you? This has got to be our secret.’

  ‘My dad recognised you. Or thought he did.’

  ‘Then you’ll have to tell him he’s wrong.’ Georgie heard her voice rise, not the kind of soothing voice one should use on an invalid. ‘Do you understand?’’

  Lyndsey nodded and immediately Georgie felt bad. This was an ill woman. She needed handling with kindness, not anger.

  ‘I just need to know what happened to you. I’m worried. You can tell me, Georgie. We always told each other everything.’

  It was true. Georgie felt herself slipping away. Back in Thailand. Being watched by the boy with the close-set staring eyes who had seen Joly hug her.

  Jonathan followed her around for the next few days until Georgie’s skin began to crawl. It didn’t help that the others noticed too.

  ‘Johnny’s got the hots for you,’ Georgina said, nudging her meaningfully.

  Joly nodded but his eyes didn’t smile, Georgie noticed.

  ‘I don’t fancy him,’ she announced.

  Did she imagine that or did Joly look relieved?

  ‘By the way,’ added Georgina quietly. ‘There’s something I need to ask you.’

  ‘Not now.’ Joly’s voice cut in.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Georgie turned from one to the other. Wanted to ask her what? Suddenly, she recalled her friend had said something similar when she’d been ill.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Georgina now said, almost sulkily.

  Joly nodded. ‘Exactly. Forget it.’

  Forget what? Was it anything to do with the obsession that Georgina seemed to have about secrets? She couldn’t imagine life now without her new friends. But they weren’t like anyone else she’d ever known. It was both exciting and unnerving, as though she was treading on ground that might open up and hold her safely – or suffocate her.

  The following week, when they were all sitting round the fire, Georgie had to move places twice to get away from Jonathan. Surely he could get the message? She got so frustrated that when someone circulated the joint around as usual, she took a longer drag than normal. Almost immediately, she felt warm. Slightly heady but in a pleasant way. The half bottle of wine helped too.

  Jonathan smiled. ‘Learning to relax, are we? Like the other night?’

  ‘Be quiet,’ she said fiercely. ‘I told you before. It was just a hug. A friendly hug.’

  ‘If you say so.’ He blew the smoke out deliberately. ‘Not sure our friend Georgina would see it that way.’

  Georgie felt like shoving him, the way she’d pushed one of the boys in the playground when he’d bullied Lyndsey. ‘If you don’t shut up, I’ll sort you out,’ she heard herself say.

  Jonathan’s eyebrows raised. ‘I like a girl with spark. Always thought you were a bit different from the rest of us even though you try to ape your idol.’ He glanced at Georgina whose head was in Joly’s lap.

>   Georgie felt a stab of longing. Why did she always get the boys she didn’t want? Standing up, she took another swig from the bottle that was being passed round and moved towards her tent. ‘Want some company?’ called out Jonathan.

  One of the other girls sniggered.

  ‘No. Just some time on my own.’

  For a while, Georgie sat there, trying to think. Maybe it was time to move on. Perhaps Jonathan was right. She was trying to ape her ‘alter ego’. Georgina, who was everything she’d always dreamed of being. Pretty. Charming. Clever. Enough money to do what she wanted. Georgina, who had gone to a smart school instead of her own rough comprehensive.

  At home, she’d always felt she was a changeling. Sometimes, she used to tell Lyndsey, she wondered if her mother really was her mother. Perhaps she was adopted. Where else could she have got her flair for colours from? Certainly not Mum, with her frumpy A-line brown skirts.

  ‘You don’t really think that, do you?’ Lyndsey had said.

  No. But she wished it was true.

  The laughter had died down now by the fire. Georgie put her head out just in time to see Jonathan lead Vanda by the hand into his tent. That was a relief. She’d got rid of her two least favourite people here, in one go. For once she could have a night to herself without any snoring.

  Then she jumped as the tent flap opened.

  ‘Joly?’ she gasped. ‘You frightened me,’

  But before she could say any more, his arms were around her and his lips pressing down on hers. Immediately, her own responded. It felt so right. so good. As though they had been doing this all their lives.

  Eventually, he drew back and Georgie felt a stab of disappointment. He was teasing her. Or else he was stoned. She certainly felt woozy from all the wine and the joint.

  ‘I know exactly what I’m doing,’ he said softly as if knowing what she was thinking.

  ‘Georgina,’ she managed to say; the taste of his mouth still numbing her tongue.

  ‘Asleep,’ he retorted shortly. And then his hands moved downwards …

  ‘You slept with your friend’s boyfriend?’

  Lyndsey’s voice was shocked, jerking Georgie back to the present. She let out a hoarse laugh. ‘If you think that’s bad, I’d better not continue.’

  Her old friend’s face bore the look of someone who was riveted but horrified at the same time. ‘You must go on. It’s distracting me. And besides, as I said, I have to fill in the gaps.’

  She could get up right now and run. It wasn’t too late. But something about Lyndsey’s pale face made her feel she should continue. She owed it to her friend. She owed it herself. But most of all, she owed it to Georgina.

  When Georgie woke in the morning, it was much later than usual. She could tell from the chatter outside and the quality of the light that streamed through the canvas. Where was Vanda? The sleeping bag next to her was empty but … but right next to her, breathing evenly with a face as untroubled as a male angel, was Joly.

  How was she going to get him out of her tent without anyone else finding out?

  Georgie’s heart began to pound. Maybe if she left first she could pretend that Joly had somehow gone back in to call her for breakfast. or maybe …

  ‘Georgie!’ sang a voice outside. ‘Want a cup of tea? By the way, you haven’t seen …’

  The voice faltered at the same time as Georgina’s lovely long blonde hair appeared at the flap. ‘Joly?’ she whispered.

  Georgie had never seen anyone’s face drain of colour before. Appalled, she watched her friend take in the naked man and then her own nudity.

  ‘So this,’ she whispered, ‘was your secret. This is your way of repaying my friendship.’

  No. No. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry …’

  She reached out her hand but Georgina pushed her away, uttering a muffled cry of anguish like an animal in pain. Backing out of the tent, she disappeared from view but there was no mistaking the sound of footsteps running.

  By the time Georgie had scrambled into shorts and a T-shirt and run out, her friend was nowhere to be seen.

  By lunchtime, she still hadn’t appeared. No one else seemed concerned. Vanda and Jonathan were so wrapped up in each other that they failed to notice anyone else. Meanwhile, Joly didn’t wake up until way past midday, despite her shaking him. Even though he’d declared he hadn’t been ‘stoned’, Georgie suspected he had been. Why else would he have done things to her in the night that she had never dreamed of, calling her his ‘beautiful darling’?

  She might look a bit like Georgina but there was no comparison mentally. Not when it came to degrees of confidence.

  ‘Where’s my girl?’ were Joly’s first words when she’d managed to wake him.

  Instantly, Georgie felt crushed. So she’d been right. Last night had merely been a diversion in the Joly world.

  Falteringly, she explained what had happened.

  ‘No one’s seen her?’ he repeated. Then he jumped to his feet, grabbing his shirt as he ran. ‘For God’s sake, everyone. We need to form a search party. Georgina’s missing.’

  ‘Did you find her?’ whispered Lyndsey.

  Georgie was about to speak when there was the clinking of the trolley behind her. ‘Time for your meds!’ called out a nurse cheerily. ‘End of visiting time, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Will you come back tomorrow?’ asked Lyndsey. ‘After the transfusion?’

  Georgie nodded, wishing she’d said no. Why had she allowed her past to return? As she walked briskly down the corridor, she tried pulling the metal gates down just as she’d down over the years whenever she felt the memories banging on the door.

  But this time, the gate wouldn’t move. It was stuck. Wide open. Joly’s face. Frantic with worry. Georgina’s face when she’d seen the two of them together. Shocked. Betrayed. Vanda and Jonathan. Eyes only for each other. Lyndsey and her mother at home. Getting on with ordinary lives. And then …

  No. No, she wouldn’t – couldn’t – think of that. Time to get back to ordinary life. Time to nail this woman on the head. This imposter who had used her card. Somehow, Georgie felt certain she was a woman, although why, she wasn’t sure. Presumably she was responsible for the other thefts and the YouTube video, too.

  Who was she? Was it a random thief or was she specifically targeting Georgie … Stealing her identity just as she’d stolen someone else’s …

  Switching on her mobile, Georgie climbed into the driver’s seat. Almost immediately, the phone started to ring. Putting it on hands-free, she swung out of the hospital drive, straight past another car which looked – at a glance – as if Lyndsey’s husband was at the wheel.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Georgie?’

  It was Sam’s voice. But different.

  ‘Can you come home? Something weird’s happened.’

  She drew a deep breath. ‘Yes, I know. Someone’s been using my card. Someone in Edinburgh. I haven’t been anywhere near there. But – just my luck – the CCTV wasn’t working.’

  ‘Someone’s been using my card too.’ His tone was flat. Yet uneven. ‘But the CCTV was doing just fine.’ There was a silence. ‘Apparently, she looked like you.’

  That was impossible.

  ‘The woman who used the card also knew the pin code.’

  ‘But it couldn’t have been me. Not if she was in Edinburgh.’

  ‘That’s the whole point. It wasn’t Edinburgh. It was in the hospital. Two hours ago.’

  In the hospital …

  Georgie began to shake. Her mouth went bone dry. So she was being watched. Spied on. Someone was trying to take her life away.

  ‘Where are you now?’

  She could hardly speak.

  ‘Georgie. I said where are you now?’

  There was a hoot as Georgie only just managed to avoid hitting another car. The other driver hooted, as well she might. That had been her fault. She hadn’t been paying attention.

  ‘I’ve been visiting Lyndsey,’ she said numbly.


  ‘In the hospital?’ His voice had a pleading quality. Please say no. Please say you were nowhere near there.

  ‘Yes. In the hospital.’

  TWENTY-ONE

  You can’t beat a good disguise. When my dad was little, he did jobs in my Spider-Man mask. Used to tiptoe into my bedroom, he did, and nick it from under my pillow where I’d hid it.

  The funny thing is that I’d nicked it myself from this kid at school whose parents gave me stuff.

  I didn’t know what my dad did with the mask until later. I thought he just wanted to play.

  In a way he was. Cops and robbers.

  My mum told me later that he’d put it on to rob post offices.

  ‘Spider-Man Caught at Last’ said the headline. He got eight years.

  Sometimes I think that if he’d been around more, my life would have been different. I read a lot, now. And all that self-help stuff says the same thing. Boys need their fathers. Makes me laugh, it does.

  There are some fathers who shouldn’t be allowed near their kids.

  I’m living proof of that.

  But let’s not go there.

  TWENTY-TWO

  ‘And you are certain it wasn’t you?’

  The policeman looked at her in such a way that Georgie wondered if there’d been some mistake. Was it possible that she was going completely mad and that yes, it had been her?

  Rubbish.

  ‘I could hardly be in two places at once,’ she remarked tartly. ‘Not unless I was Superman.’

  Beside her, Sam prickled. ‘We’re just trying to get to the bottom of this, Georgie.’

  She rounded on him. ‘Don’t you think I want that as well?’

  Fear was making her angry. She hadn’t wanted to contact the police again. It would increase her chance of being found out. You read about that all the time. Criminals were caught for a past crime when they were arrested for a more recent one. The thought made her shake.

  But the bank security people – who were being very sympathetic, if ineffectual – suggested that both she and Sam went down and reported the crime in person at the local police station. ‘It’s not unusual for more than one person in a family to have their cards misused’ a kindly woman told her. ‘But a disguise – if that’s what it is – is another matter.’