Page 90 of You Belong With Me

Elliot smiled broadly. ‘Yes, absolutely. Only a reckless dickhead, a dickhead who hadn’t taken them in the first place of course, would forget to delete the evidence. With that firmly in mind, Iggy, can we have a quick look at your camera roll from that night? Put our minds at rest, clear your name.’

‘No, you can’t! It’s my private data! I’m not letting The Bottom Inspectors here browse my Tinder photos. I’ve got spice for the ladies on it. And in return.’

‘You don’t put sensitive stuff in your Hidden album?’ Elliot said. ‘You risk your mum getting an eyeful of pubes when she’s looking at your new kitchen?’

Iggy shrugged. ‘I mean sometimes, not always. I’m not sure enough to let you into it.’

‘Hmm. All right, how about I check your contacts against the bylines on the stories about me?’

‘Again, who’s going to be stupid enough to put journalists in under their own names?’ Fraser said.

‘Who indeed?’ Elliot said, extending his hand. ‘Quick look, please? Surely you’re not going to say your phone book is violently private?’

Iggy’s eyes moved from side to side, hand resting protectively over his mobile.

Edie hadn’t fully trusted her own intuition until now. Iggy’s furtive manner said maybe she should have.

‘Is that a no, you won’t show us?’ Elliot said.

‘I don’t get it, if there’s nothing on your phone then let Elliot check …?’ Fraser started.

‘He’ll get into it for one thing and start looking at all sorts!’ Iggy said.

‘I won’t let him,’ Fraser said. ‘Only your phone book. I’m on your side, Ig. There’s no way you talk to journa—’

‘I’M SORRY!’ Iggy wailed, shocking them all into stillness. ‘I’m so fucked – they’re going to take the flat! I hate myself! I’m sorry, Elliot.’

He put his head down on the table.

It was like a police drama when the suspect finally breaks under interrogation and admits they were the killer, detectives holding their breath while the tape spools forward to record the confession.

47

‘Hey guys, I don’t want to interrupt, but are y’all good for drinks?’ said a waitress, blissfully unaware of what she’d stumbled into, twirling a round tray like a cheerleader with a baton.

‘Can we have another bottle of this?’ Elliot raised the red wine. ‘And five fresh glasses, please?’

Fraser and Edie both looked at him with total surprise.

They sat in a taut, loaded silence as the waitress returned and poured the wine out for each of them.

Fraser sniffed his glass, after she’d left. ‘Big “Last Supper” bouquet. But we already know who’s betraying us.’

Iggy looked genuinely haunted, and as if he might burst into tears. His wine sat untouched.

‘Should I go?’

‘No,’ Elliot said, ‘Definitely not. You can stay and explain yourself. Do you have even a small percentage grasp of how it’s felt to be on the receiving end of this? I know empathy and …ethics in generalaren’t your strong suits, but this is lurid even for you?’

‘I’m garbage!’ Iggy said. ‘A garbage person. I was so scared, I needed money fast …’

‘At what price – selling Elliot out? Someone I shared a school playground with,’ Elliot said. ‘I thought this must be the work of some implacable enemy I’d unwittingly created. Someone who hated me with a burning ferocity.’

‘I don’t hate you! I’m not your enemy!’ Iggy cried.

‘I know! You’re a dickhead without a difference!’ Elliot snapped back, at the same pitch.

Iggy wiped tears from his face. Elliot heavy sighed. Fraser looked at Iggy in disbelief.

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