Page 14 of The Girl in Room 12

This is what I think of as my shoes clack along the polished wood floor and I make my way upstairs to the second storey.

Nadia’s door is directly opposite Cole’s, reminding me of the flat Max and I shared in Brixton when we first got together.

‘Well, I’ve been waiting for this,’ Nadia says, ushering me inside. I’ve only ever seen her in the shop before, so it’s strange seeing her in her own home. It’s too personal, and I immediately feel guilty. Her curly black hair is tied in a low pony tail and she has reading glasses perched on her head. She must be a similar age to my mum, and just like my mum, it’s clear that Nadia makes an effort with her hair and make-up. ‘My ladies will be pleased. Finally. We’re all a bit sick of being crammed in here every Friday night.’ She lifts her arms up. ‘See for yourself. Not enough space to swing a cat,’ she says. ‘And someone always ends up sitting on the floor.’ She tuts. ‘Would you like something to drink?’

I don’t really want anything, but I need this visit to last as long as possible. ‘Tea would be great, thanks.’

I follow her into the small galley kitchen, which, other than the pale green colour scheme, looks identical to Cole’s.

‘Cole said you’ve lived in Putney your whole life,’ I say, studying the family photos she’s arranged on her fridge. I quickly work out she must have at least three children.

‘Yes, I have. Hmm. That makes me sound boring, doesn’t it? But why leave somewhere you find perfect? And I’ve travelled a lot. I’m not one of these people who doesn’t even have a passport.’ Nadia pulls out a bag of cat food and pours kibbles into a bowl on the floor. ‘You don’t mind cats, do you? Not allergic or anything? Sorry, too late, even if you are. Pixie’s fur gets everywhere.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘But I love that creature to pieces. I keep telling Cole he should get a pet. Treat you far better than any human.’ She smiles, but I sense that sadness lurks behind it. ‘I think a dog would suit him, don’t you?’

I nod, wondering which of her many questions I’m even answering.

‘You’re married, aren’t you?’ she asks, as she sets about making tea. ‘Shame. I worry about Cole, you know.’

‘Why? He’s happy. He doesn’t need anyone to make him feel whole.’

‘Oh, I know all that. I miss my Mo. He died when the kids were quite young. My youngest was still in secondary school.’ She pauses. ‘We all need a bit of company, don’t we?’ She bends down to stroke Pixie, a ginger tabby cat, who has appeared from nowhere and starts munching kibbles by Nadia’s feet. ‘Even if it’s company from a pet.’ She studies me. ‘And the way Cole talks about you?—’

‘What?’

‘Oh, nothing. I just mean it’s all a shame. Anyway, you didn’t come here to talk about Cole. How about my book club then? Is that a yes to Fridays?’ She hands me my tea.

‘Um, actually, we can’t do Fridays, but I’d like to offer you Tuesdays. Would that be okay?’

Nadia sighs. ‘Hmm. It’s not ideal. But it’s better than doing it here. Okay. I’ll take it. Thank you.’ She smiles. ‘Good job you’ve agreed as I’ve already told everyone. Oh, don’t worry. I said it wasn’t definite, but I did mention you were coming here todiscuss it.’ She wanders past me into the living room, gesturing for me to follow.

‘Anyway, it makes a change from what we’ve been talking about the last couple of days. Poor Alice Hughes.’

‘Yes, Cole said you knew her,’ I say, sitting on her sofa. It’s too soft and sags in the middle, forcing me to lean forward.

Nadia sighs. ‘Yes. She was best friends with my daughter in secondary school. They drifted a bit after leaving – that happens, doesn’t it? – but I know they kept in touch. Eloise is devastated. She lives in Canada now. Met her husband when she was working over there and decided not to come back. She visits, of course, but her life is there now.’ She shakes her head. ‘I don’t like her being so far away. Especially when senseless things like this happen.’ She bats away a tiny fruit fly that hovers around her. ‘And have you seen all that stuff they’re saying about poor Alice online? It’s vile.’

It’s clear that Nadia is a talker – something I can use to my advantage. ‘I know. And I’m so sorry. It must be so hard for your daughter.’

She nods. ‘And for me. I bumped into Alice a few weeks ago one morning at the train station and I noticed she was a bit off. She looked so thin. Frail. I know health and fitness is her life, but she didn’t look well. She looked as if she hadn’t eaten properly for months. And I tried talking to her while we waited for the train, but she just stared at me with this vacant expression, as if she wasn’t registering anything I said.’ She leans forward. ‘As soon as I got home from work that evening, I called Eloise and told her to check in on Alice. She messaged her but got no reply. Which is strange, because Alice always replied to Eloise’s messages. Maybe not straight away – but eventually.’

‘That is strange,’ I agree. ‘Have you told the police all of this? It might be relevant.’

‘Yes, I went down there straight away when I heard. I don’t know what good it will do, but I had to let them know.’

‘What do you think was going on with Alice?’ I venture, hoping I don’t sound too desperate for answers.

Nadia’s eyes narrow and her lips straighten into a thin line. I’m overstepping and I need to be careful.

‘I couldn’t comment on that,’ she says, suddenly guarded. ‘I’m not one for gossip.’

Taking a risk, I push on. ‘I read somewhere that she had a boyfriend,’ I lie. ‘Perhaps they were having problems?’

Lines appear on Nadia’s forehead. ‘Eloise mentioned there was an ex in the picture, but I think that ended a long time ago, so I don’t think it was anything to do with that.’

If there was an ex, then Alice kept him out of her public sphere, which is unusual for someone her age. Even if she didn’t want photos of him plastered all over the internet, none of her words even hinted that she had someone in her life.

Because he was married?

‘Anyway,’ Nadia says. ‘About my book club night – when can I start?’

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