Page 28 of Deep Blue Sea

‘Why do you think he did it?’ said Rachel.

Diana inhaled the scent of her curry, picking out the lemon grass and coconut, and somehow it soothed her like a balm.

‘I don’t know. I genuinely haven’t got a clue,’ she replied more calmly.

‘But were there problems? In Julian’s life, I mean?’

Diana lifted an eyebrow. ‘You mean in our marriage, don’t you? You’d love me to say yes, wouldn’t you?’

‘Not at all. Quite the opposite.’

‘You think our marriage had problems. And yes, your newspaper story exposed the fact that it did. But we worked on it, we mended it. We were happy, I think.’

‘What about work?’

‘Everything seemed fine. No major upheavals in the company, anyway. I’d have heard.’

Rachel nodded, her face serious. Diana knew that look; her sister was thinking, turning over the possibilities – and she was fairly sure that Rachel’s mind was already racing ahead. She was smart like that. Rachel never took anything at face value; she saw conspiracy everywhere, especially after she had begun working in Fleet Street. She always said there were so many stories of corruption and manipulation going on behind the scenes, stories that for legal or political reasons they couldn’t print, that the only logical response was to assume everything was dirty.

‘You knew Julian,’ said Diana. ‘You know he wouldn’t do something like this.’

‘I haven’t known him for a long time.’

‘But even if he was suicidal, wouldn’t he have given a hint?’ said Diana, refusing to give up. ‘He was talking about climbing Everest two hours beforehand. And why not leave a note or something?’

‘Not everyone who commits suicide leaves a note.’

‘Not many. You know that.’ She could feel her voice faltering. If she couldn’t persuade her sister to help her, even after she had layered on the guilt, reminded her how much she owed her, then what hope did she have of finding out the truth? Because Rachel was the only person she trusted to do it. She was the only one she had ever trusted. Rachel had been her rock. When their father had left them, she had been the one who kept the family together – sorted out the bills, the domestic chores, whilst their mother had fallen to pieces. And when Diana had got pregnant with Charlie, after a stupid, drunken holiday one-night stand, Rachel had convinced her that her life was not over. That she could still achieve her dreams and ambitions; she would just have a baby to take along on the journey. Julian and Rachel hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but that was because they were so similar in so many ways. Strong, accomplished. Dependable. More than that – they were the two most brilliant people she knew.

Diana took a deep breath in a final attempt to make her change her mind.

‘Look, you’re convinced David Kelly was murdered. Same with Princess Diana; you never believe the official line on anything.’

‘And look where it got me.’

‘Exactly. And you still believe that Malcolm McIntyre was guilty, don’t you?’

Diana knew it was a low blow, but she was desperate. Malcolm McIntyre was the flamboyant businessman Rachel had been chasing when she was caught on the phone-hacking charge. She had been convinced he was involved in a sex ring and had set out to prove it with methods that had got her arrested.

‘That’s different,’ said Rachel icily. ‘I knew he was dirty before I started. I just got too . . . close when I was looking for evidence to back it up.’

‘But this is my Malcolm McIntyre, Rach. I know Julian’s death is wrong somehow, I know it, it just doesn’t add up. And I need the evidence to back it up. That’s all.’

Diana squeezed her eyes shut, not knowing what else to say, her heart feeling leaden with defeat.

‘You know the flights out of Bangkok are pretty busy this time of year.’

Her sister’s comment made her sit up straight.

‘You might be forced to pay for a first-class ticket,’ added Rachel.

‘I think I can manage that.’ Diana swallowed.

Her sister took a mouthful of curry. Her whole mood had changed. A switch had flipped, and dynamic, unstoppable Rachel was back. Diana almost grinned with relief.

‘All right, tell me exactly what happened at the party,’ Rachel said. ‘Don’t leave anything out. Start with the guest list – no, start with the invitations; whose idea was it, yours or Julian’s?’

Diana let her breath out. Her sister was coming home. She hoped it would be worth it.