Page 78 of The Last One to See Him

The second Kate’s inside Mona’s flat, she gets an instant picture of what Mona’s life must be like now. Far different from how Kate expected Mona would be living when, as school kids, they’d planned their adult lives down to the minutest detail. Mona had wanted a bright, modern place in the heart of London, in the middle of everything. But this flat is dingy and dark, cluttered with things that seem to belong to an elderly resident rather than a thirty-seven-year-old. None of the furniture matches and it all looks as though it’s other people’s cast-offs.

‘Don’t judge me,’ Mona says, watching Kate take in her surroundings. ‘It’s rented. This isn’t how things will always be.’

‘I don’t care how you’re living,’ Kate says.

Mona removes magazines and clothes from the sofa. ‘Sit down, then.’

‘No, I’m fine standing.’ Kate folds her arms. ‘Did you know Faye Held is dead? I know you knew her – she spoke to you for the podcast episode she was doing about Graham White a couple of years ago. Remember?’

There’s a flicker of something on Mona’s face, but she quickly composes herself. ‘How did she…what happened to her?’

‘You don’t seem surprised. Are you lying again, Mona? You’re good at that, aren’t you?’

‘Get to the point, Kate, and then get out of my flat.’

‘Shall I tell you what’s been happening in my life over the last few weeks?’ Kate says. ‘I’ve had a woman stalking me because her husband was targeting me for some reason, my house has been set on fire with me and my son in it, my closest friend has cut me out of her life because I didn’t tell her about my past, and I can’t trust a single person in my life.’

Mona doesn’t respond.

‘And do you know when I think it might have all started? When Faye Held did that podcast episode on Graham White. And you spoke to her, spewing lies about me.’

Again there’s no response.

‘Do you know anything about Jamie Archer?’

‘I’d never heard that name until that woman contacted me and told me all about it.’

‘Do you know what, Mona? Some small part of me can even understand why you spoke to Faye. We can end up telling so many lies that we actually start to believe the narrative we’ve sold ourselves. We rewrite it, and don’t even realise it’s been altered.’

‘Why are you here? What do you want?’

‘It’s time to tell the truth, Mona. For both of us.’

Mona looks as if she’s about to throw up as she sits clutching her stomach. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she says.

‘Yes, you do. This all started because of you. You owe me the truth, and I’m not leaving until I get it.’

There’s a long pause. And when Mona speaks, Kate wishes she’d never asked.

‘I…I loved him,’ Mona begins.

THIRTY-FIVE

2003

It’s the day after her fifteenth birthday when she first meets him. He’s sitting on a bench in the park near school, staring at the lake, and he looks a little bit like Leonardo DiCaprio. She can’t pull her eyes away from him. But there’s a sadness about the way his gaze fixes on the ripples, and something compels her to walk over to him and sit beside him.

He moves up to make room for her, even though there’s plenty of space, but he doesn’t look at her. She could be anyone: an elderly man sitting down to catch his breath, or a mum watching her children play basketball on the court by the lake. She wants him toseeher, although she can’t explain why.

‘Are you okay?’ she asks. ‘You don’t look okay.’ She feels her cheeks flush. What a ridiculous thing to say to a grown man she’s never met. He’ll probably tell her to eff off, and who could blame him? He’s a proper adult, why would he talk to a schoolgirl?

But he doesn’t tell her to eff off. Instead, he turns to her and smiles, which makes him even more attractive. ‘Is it that obvious?’ he says, with a small chuckle. ‘I thought I was doing a decent job of hiding it. Of looking like I’m just out here for the fresh air. To take in the views of that beautiful lake.’

Now it’s her turn to smile. ‘Need to try harder next time.’

‘Well, you’re bold,’ he says, raising his eyebrows, looking her up and down. ‘For someone so young.’

She rolls her eyes. ‘I’m fifteen. Not that young.’

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