Page 89 of The Last One to See Him

Everything feels different at Harper’s house this time. The hostile atmosphere – that last time she was here permeated every room – no longer exists, and it surprises Kate how comfortable she feels, how safe being away from Ellis.

‘I know you won’t rest, but I think you should try,’ Harper says, gesturing to the sofa. ‘You’re probably still in shock after being attacked. Again. Tonight must have brought all of that trauma to the surface.’ She sits beside Kate.

Kate lowers her head and stares at her feet. ‘I’m fine. Ready to do what I have to do. I don’t need to rest.’

For a moment Harper silently appraises her. ‘Okay, you can help me, then. I’m going to send an email to Jennifer Seagrove and see if I can get her to talk to me. And I’ll carry on going through Jamie’s emails.’ She pauses. ‘You just get some rest.’

Upstairs in the spare room, Kate gets into bed. She knows she won’t be able to sleep, but Harper is right – she should at least try to rest. Lula is hiding under the bed, where she’s been since they got there.

Even under the duvet, Kate shivers, and goosebumps coat her arms. She goes to the wardrobe, wondering if there’s an extra blanket in there.

Jamie’s clothing is still hanging from the rail. On the top shelf, she sees a folded fleece blanket on top of a cardboard box. Kate reaches up and as she pulls on it, the box and blanket topple to the floor, papers spreading across the carpet. Glancing at the door, she kneels down to gather them up, studying each one as she places them back in the box.

It becomes clear that they all belong to Jamie, and most of them are credit card statements or loan agreements. His finances were a mess; Kate can almost understand why he resorted to conning those poor women out of money.

She pores over every document, drowning in guilt that she’s invading a dead man’s privacy like this. And then, halfway through the pile, Kate picks up an A4 sheet, folded in half. The letterhead catches her attention and time stands still, the room spinning as she stares at it and reads the words written under the letterhead. She glances at the door again, then folds the paper and puts it in her pocket.

Downstairs, she peers into the living room, where Harper sits with her laptop.

‘I have to go somewhere,’ Kate says.

Harper looks up from her laptop. ‘What? Where? It’s not safe, Kate!’

But Kate doesn’t stay to explain herself.

THIRTY-NINE

TUESDAY 4 FEBRUARY

Kate scans the streets as she makes her way to the Tube station, retracing the steps she took earlier before being attacked. She’s on her guard this time, adrenalin pumping through her veins. When she reaches Wimbledon station, she stops at the entrance, relieved that there are still plenty of people making their way in and out.

She dials Rowan’s number and waits for him to answer.

‘Kate,’ he says, his voice still fused with kindness. ‘This really isn’t?—’

‘Something’s happened,’ she says. ‘Lots of things. Awful things. I’ve found out stuff about Ellis and I really need to talk to you. Please. Just one last time. Then you’ll never hear from me again.’

There’s a long pause, and Kate crosses her fingers, willing him to say yes.

‘I want to help you,’ Rowan says. ‘I really do – but my hands are tied, Kate. This goes against my professional code of conduct.’

She’s expected this. ‘I’m no longer your patient, so there’s no reason you can’t see me as a friend, is there?’

‘That’s still crossing a professional line. Barely a day has passed since I stopped being your therapist.’

‘I was attacked,’ Kate explains. ‘Just now. And it could have been Ellis. I don’t know for sure. I don’t want to believe it but I have to face the possibility that it was him.’

There’s a sharp intake of breath. ‘Are you okay? What happened? How do you know it was Ellis?’

‘Because now I know everything. And you’re the only person I can talk to about it. Please, Rowan.’ Kate hates begging, sounding needy, but she’s doing what is necessary.

‘I’m glad you’re okay, Kate. I hope you’ve called the police?’

‘Yes,’ Kate lies.

‘That’s good. Look, I’m sorry all of this is happening to you but I’m going now.’

‘No, please, Rowan.’

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