Page 42 of Perfect Strangers

Sophie looked away, feeling embarrassed.

‘You get one cup of tea, then you’re out of here,’ he said, squeezing past her into the kitchen area and taking down a copper milk pan. He filled it with water and lit the gas hob.

‘No kettle?’

‘Electricity’s out. Sorry, princess.’

He looked at her through the low light. The stubble on his chin was longer since they last met, as if he had not shaved since.

‘So start talking.’

‘No small talk?’ asked Sophie.

‘Not my style.’

‘Suits me, I have to be back home for the police in fifty minutes,’ she replied, sitting down at the narrow table.

Slowly, she began to tell her tale, from that first night with Nick, through their dates, to discovering the body, being grilled by the police and finally finding her flat ransacked. When she had finished, Josh came over and placed a mug of tea in front of her.

‘Right,’ he said, sitting opposite her. ‘I’ll assume for the moment you’re telling the truth.’

Sophie began to object, but he held up a hand to stop her.

‘Don’t interrupt,’ he said, his wide mouth fixed in an unsmiling line. ‘My friend is dead and someone killed him. Excuse me if I’m suspicious of strangers.’

Sophie frowned. The anxiety she had first felt at being here in this small enclosed space had turned to annoyance.

‘So Nick’s a friend now,’ she said tartly. ‘I thought you barely knew him.’

Josh paused a beat.

‘Figure of speech.’

‘Really? If I was a policeman, I’d say you were hiding something.’

‘I don’t have anything to hide from you,’ he said wearily. Something in the way he said it made her look at him more closely, reminding her of the way he had reacted to the news of Nick’s death.

‘You knew Nick Cooper wasn’t his real name, didn’t you?’ she said slowly. ‘And I don’t think his death surprised you either, did it?’

‘Well done, Inspector Clouseau,’ he said. ‘But I think you should leave the amateur detective stuff for the TV. This is real life, you could get hurt. Stay out of it.’

She knew Josh was challenging her, but Sophie wasn’t afraid of him. He was cocky, maybe a little shifty; she had felt that at the Chariot party – such arrogant charmers were generally chancers and not to be trusted. But tonight that breezy confidence had been replaced by a guarded sullenness; she was sure he knew more than he was letting on, and she wasn’t going to let him scare her off.

‘I’m already in it, Josh,’ she said flatly. ‘According to my solicitor, I’m the prime suspect for Nick’s murder at the moment. I don’t see how it could get much worse. All I’m asking is for you to tell me what you know about Nick.’

‘Look, Sophie,’ he said, rubbing his eyes, ‘you seem like a nice girl and I really hope the police get off your back, but I don’t want to get involved in this.’

‘Why not? If he was your friend and if you’ve nothing to hide? Or are you afraid the police might start looking at you too closely?’

Josh barked out a laugh.

‘What are you suggesting? That I killed Nick?’ he said incredulously.

‘It had crossed my mind,’ she said quietly, wondering how dangerous it was to be here.

‘Well, as it

happens, I have an alibi for this morning, a young lady with a flat in Camden. You, on the other hand, were right there. So if we’re going to start pointing the finger, take a look at yourself first.’