Page 21 of The Bodies

NINETEEN

When the doorbell goes, Monday morning, Teri Platini is in the orangery, FaceTiming with Brittany Moore. Teri has turned off her camera, but at least she can see her friend.

‘You think that’s him, babe?’ Brittany asks.

‘I don’t know. It could be the brother again.’

‘This is messed up. Don’t you dare open that door.’

‘It’s not my house.’

‘Of course it’s your house. You’ve been living there long enough.’

‘Cohabiting,’ Teri says. She climbs off the sofa, wincing, and limps from the orangery to the hall.

‘Cohabiting?’ Brittany asks, screwing up her face. ‘What the hell is that shit?’

‘It means it’s Angus’s house, not mine. Legally, I have no right to stay.’

From the entrance hall, Teri steps into Thornecroft’s formal dining room and peeks through the mullioned windows. On the driveway, parked next to Angus’s tarp-covered Morgan, she sees a police car. ‘It’s not him,’ she whispers. ‘I’ve got to go.’

‘So who the f—’

Teri cuts the call dead. Then she steps out of the dining room and into the downstairs cloakroom. In front of the mirror she examines her face. Her make-up conceals some of the damage, but there’s no escaping the swollen eye or split lip.

The doorbell rings a second time. Quickly, Teri zips her hoodie, hiding the bruising around her throat. From her pocket she removes sunglasses and slips them on. Then she goes to the front door and opens it.

Two police officers, male and female, are standing on the driveway below the covered porch.

‘Morning,’ the female officer says. Her eyes sweep over Teri, then past her into the house. ‘PC Hopkins – and this is PC Kenner. Hope we didn’t disturb you. Looking for Angus Roth. Is he home?’

‘Not at the moment,’ Teri says, standing a little straighter. ‘Sorry, can I help? I’m his girl … his partner.’

‘Mr Roth owns a blue Lexus RC F?’

She nods.

The woman checks her notebook and reads out the registration.

‘That’s the one.’

‘We had a call. You know Jack-O’-Lantern Woods, west of Crompton? Car’s partially blocking one of the Forestry Commission access roads.’

‘Sorry,’ Teri says.

‘They didn’t report it Friday, thinking the owner would move it over the weekend. But now it’s Monday, and they need it shifted. If Mr Roth isn’t home, can I take a contact number for him?’

‘I can move the car, no problem,’ Teri says. ‘I’m so sorry it’s in the way.’

The police officer’s eyes travel over her once again. ‘You know where it’s parked?’

‘Uh-huh,’ Teri says. ‘Angus likes to run. Often, he’ll leave it there and run all the way home.’

She lies partly because she’s frightened of what Angus might do to her if she doesn’t – and partly because she’s afraid of the police officer.

The woman seems to have her shit together in a uniquely frightening way.

Teri feels like she’s being inspected and assessed.

She bites her lip, forgetting it’s swollen – and flinches.

‘OK, good,’ the officer says. ‘I’ll just take Mr Roth’s number for the record, since we’re here.’

Blushing, Teri recites it.

‘And what’s your name?’

‘Teri. Teri Platini.’

‘You live here, Teri?’

‘Yes.’

‘Your mouth looks a bit sore,’ the woman says. ‘And that’s a nasty scratch on your neck.’

Teri’s hand flies up. Earlier, doing her make-up, she hadn’t noticed a scratch, but now she feels it beneath her fingers, and the tiny bobbles of crusted blood along its length. ‘Sorry,’ she says, and winces. It must be the millionth time she’s apologized. ‘Basketball injury.’

‘Ouch. Where do you play?’

‘I don’t, really. Just practice.’

The officer nods. ‘Is everything OK at home, Teri, if you don’t mind me asking? Anything you want to talk to us about?’

‘Everything’s fine.’

PC Hopkins glances at her colleague. Then she digs a card from a pocket and hands it over. ‘My details. You can get in touch any time. About anything you like. In the meantime, I’d be grateful if you could move that car as a priority, so we can stop getting calls about it.’

Teri takes the card, feeling her cheeks grow hot again. She thanks the officers and quickly closes the door.