Page 21 of What Have You Done?

‘You all know this one, it’s famous,’ Diana said. ‘There was a girl, a long time ago, called Emily.’ She paused. ‘She was very beautiful.’

‘How do you know that?’ Cameron interjected.

‘Just shut up and listen,’ Diana said. ‘She was very beautiful, and she was in love with a handsome young man. They were supposed to run off and be married. Perhaps their parents didn’t approve of them getting married, I don’t know. Maybe they thought she was too young. This was in Stowe. They arranged to meet one night at the covered bridge and run away together.’

‘I’ve never heard that before, that they were going to meet at the bridge and run away together,’ Riley interjected. ‘You’re making that up. I thought he jilted her and that she just killed herself at that bridge.’

‘Just work with me here,’ Diana said. ‘He didn’t show up. And she thought he’d jilted her, and she killed herself. We don’t even know how she killed herself, but she did. Maybe she jumped.’

‘Have you been to that bridge?’ Cameron said. ‘I have. It’s not very high. I don’t think a jump from that would kill you. It might hurt her bad, though.’

‘Wait a minute,’ I said. ‘It’s a covered bridge. How do you jump off a covered bridge?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Diana said. ‘Maybe she poisoned herself. Maybe she stabbed herself with a dagger or shot herself. The point is, she died at that bridge and she haunts it to this day. People who cross it hear all sorts of unexplained noises – thumping and banging and wailing and so on. And their cars get scratched if they drive over it.’

‘Emily sounds pretty angry,’ Cameron observed. ‘And I’ve been to that bridge,’ he said again, ‘and I didn’t hear anything.’

‘Yeah, me neither,’ Diana conceded. Then she paused, took another drink, and said, ‘But seriously, there’s something I’ve never told you guys before.’ We all looked at her expectantly. ‘A friend of my mother’s – Mrs Whalen – swears she heard screaming there. This was a few years ago. She and her husband were driving across the bridge. There was this horrible sound of a woman screaming and shrieking and sobbing. She said it completely terrified them. When they got through to the other side of the bridge, her husband pulled the car over and got out to look around, thinking someone was there. She did too. It wasn’t quite dark yet, and they couldn’t see anyone. And before you say it was just the wind, my mom already suggested that and Mrs Whalen said it definitely wasn’t, and her husband agreed with her.’

‘They imagined it,’ Cameron said.

‘But you know Mrs Whalen,’ Diana protested. ‘She’s not very imaginative. And her husband said the same thing, and he’s as sober as a judge.’ She paused thoughtfully and added, ‘My mom was really affected by it.’

When she said that, the moon slipped behind a cloud, and I felt the slightest shiver up my spine. She and Riley shared another private, meaningful glance I couldn’t quite decipher, and then Diana looked across at me and grinned.

I have to stop writing for a minute, I’m so sick at heart. We’ll all be going to that church for her funeral. Diana will be buried there, in our graveyard. It makes me feel sick to think of it.

My cell phone pings, and I pick it up to look at it. I’ve got a text from Riley.

Are you there?

Yes.

We should talk.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

AFTER SUPPER AND dishes, Paula Acosta pours herself a glass of wine, another one for her husband, and takes them both into the TV room. Taylor has gone upstairs to her bedroom, seemingly unperturbed. But Paula isn’t so sure. She never knows what her daughter is thinking these days.

‘Thanks,’ her husband, Martin, says as she hands him the glass. He’s relaxing after a tough week. It’s Friday night, and it’s their habit to have some wine and watch something bingeable on television.

She sits down beside him. ‘I’m worried about Taylor,’ she says.

‘You’re always worried,’ he says absently.

‘Someone around here has to do the emotional work,’ she answers a little sharply.

He looks up then, alert. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing. Everything.’ She sighs. It’s hard to put into words, it’s just a feeling, a feeling that everything is slipping away from her, at risk somehow. ‘Taylor is so quiet. She spends all her time in her room these days. She used to see her friends more.’ She pauses, takes a sip of her wine. ‘I don’t think she has any friends any more. I saw her this morning, sitting all by herself in the cafeteria before classes started. And then—’ She thinks of everything else that happened that day. ‘And then the horrible news about Diana. It’s such a tragedy, so awful what happened to her. She was such a bright girl. She had so much going for her.’

‘I hope they figure out who did it,’ her husband says.

‘Me too.’ She sips her wine. She knows she’s not supposed to say anything, but if she tells Martin, he’s not going to tell anyone. It won’t go any further. ‘If I tell you something, you must promise not to breathe a word of it to anyone,’ she says to him.

He looks surprised. ‘Of course. What is it?’

‘There’s something the police don’t know yet.’ He puts his wineglass down on the coffee table and gives her his full attention. She tells him. ‘The gym teacher, Brad Turner. Diana had complained about him.’

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