Page 72 of The Girlfriend

L AURA WATCHED OUT THE WINDOW AS THE MAN FROM THE REAL ESTATE agency fixed a FOR SALE sign outside the front of the house.

Not Highsmith and Brown, of course, but there were plenty of other reputable agents who were anxious to deal expertly with the disposal of her home.

Neither she nor Howard wanted it after what had happened, and, in fact, Howard hadn’t even been down to the den.

He was happy to let the moving guys pack everything that belonged to him and transport it to his new home.

She’d tried not to watch as his possessions, things that she had lived around for years, were taken to a house in St. John’s Wood, one he now shared with Marianne.

A few weeks afterward, Daniel had moved into his flat, not the one he’d lived in with Cherry, but another, without memories.

Something he found himself in a cheaper part of town, rented, and this time Howard hadn’t argued.

Laura didn’t mind; in fact, she was moving herself to a mews house near enough to Daniel for them to meet up regularly, far enough away for them to have their own lives.

It had taken her a while, but Laura had eventually plucked up the courage to go down there.

As she made her way to the basement in the elevator, she couldn’t help thinking of the paramedics who’d come down all those weeks ago to take Cherry away.

How she’d looked, what they’d had to do.

She’d been dead when they’d gotten to her.

Laura knew this because Daniel had gone to her straight after the accident, to see if he could help .

Now the area had been cleaned, of course, but the image that came to her was not Cherry lying lifeless on the floor but of her the night of the party, when they’d gone down together, just the two of them, alone, and Laura got a sense of unease, half-expecting to hear Cherry’s heels across the floor.

The glass window had been fixed and Laura looked up.

Suddenly feeling trapped, she had hurried out of there and back up to the house.

The police had interviewed her and Daniel and also the neighbor who had heard her screams and looked out the window from two houses down.

Daniel was the key witness as he’d actually seen Cherry fall.

He told the police that Cherry had slipped.

She’d been trying to cause his mother to fall to her death by running at her; then she’d lost her balance as she’d twisted back round to see him and had fallen herself, crashing into Laura as she did so.

Laura had watched him carefully as he’d relayed the course of events in the immediate aftermath and knew that was what he’d seen.

His sorrowful report supported what the neighbor had witnessed some distance away from his window.

It seemed to be enough for the coroner, who recorded a verdict of accidental death.

No one saw. No one. What a risk—it made her tremble—if it had gone wrong.

A moment of madness. Of course, it would almost certainly have been classed as self-defense—Cherry had been trying to kill her, after all.

But still, she didn’t say anything; she was too frightened.

There had been a moment when their eyes had met—a split second—and something primeval had flared up in her.

She could have saved Cherry. Maybe. She’d put her arm out.

Made contact. But not in order to pull her toward safety.

No, to push her toward the dark depths below.

It had all been so quick, it would have been hard to see, unless you were right up close. And no one else was.

She had no recollection of making the decision. That’s what petrified her. That’s what gave her the nightmares. How she’d got to that dark place. Who was that person?

She’d never forget. Maybe, eventually, she’d find a way to live with it.