Forget Me Never

go into details. I knew Effie was only asking so she could turn her nose up. She’d never liked me. According to her, I had ‘problems’ and ‘a bad background’. I’d heard her and Colin talking about it one night when I was about twelve – they hadn’t known Reece and I were in the next room.
    Effie switched the conversation to my studies and I filled her in on my A-level choices. We were searching for something else to say when Neve interrupted by waving her masterpiece in my face. The sugar paper showed a stick woman wearing a massive pair of shorts, with dark hair that fell to the ground and some sort of mask on her face.
    ‘That’s great, Neve! Am I a superhero or a burglar?’ I asked.
    ‘Burglar.’
    ‘Ah right, what did I steal?’
    ‘Cakes,’ Neve said. ‘Cream ones.’
    Reece appeared in T-shirt and jeans, rubbing his hair with a towel.
    ‘Right, let’s go up,’ he said, grabbing a bottle of Lucozade from the fridge and dumping the towel on the counter. ‘See you later, Mum.’
    ‘Wait a minute,’ Effie said. ‘I’m off in an hour. Are you going to stay in for Neve?’
    Reece sighed and huffed, which Effie seemed to take as acceptance. ‘If you and Sophie want dinner later, I’ll leave some cash out. There are takeaway menus in the drawer.’
    I followed Reece up to his room. Like the rest of the house, it was neat and tidy, though this was probably down to the cleaner. Books, mainly textbooks and sports autobiographies, were neatly lined up on the shelves. The top one was reserved for the collection of old Beano and Dandy annuals that had belonged to Reece’s dad.
    Reece flipped on the flash new computer that sat on the desk. It had been his birthday a few weeks ago – I guessed the computer had been a present. He pulled up a stool next to his swivel chair.
    ‘Let’s have a look at this USB then. Better do it pronto, before Mum offs and leaves me babysitting the poddling.’
    ‘Look, Reece . . . you don’t have to be so businesslike about all this. I know you’re pissed off with me, but this passive-aggressive stuff is a pain.’ As soon as the words came out I regretted them.
    Reece scowled. ‘Why shouldn’t I be passive-aggressive and businesslike? You’re the one who ditched me for no reason.’
    ‘Not for no reason. You let me down.’
    ‘How? I made time for you when I moved schools. I was there!’
    ‘Not the night of Paloma’s party, you weren’t. You were out with your new friends, having a whale of a time, judging by the Facebook photos.’
    ‘What’s the big deal? Did something happen at the party? You told me at the play that you weren’t even going.’
    ‘Look, I didn’t come to talk about that! Stop going on.’
    Reece muttered something, then to my surprise shut up. I handed him the USB. A little gruffly I said, ‘Look in the party folder, ninth photo.’
    He opened it up. I watched him frown at the screen. He paused, then flicked through a few more pictures. Impatient, I said, ‘Come on, you must know. Is it him, d’you reckon?’
    ‘Oh, he’s the dude from town all right. But . . .’ Reece hesitated. ‘I’m pretty certain – ninety per cent sure – that this is the same bloke that came by the flat too. The one who rang the bell for Danielle when we were getting ready to leave.’
    ‘What? How can you tell?’
    ‘Got a look at him out of the window, didn’t I? OK, so we were four floors up and it was a few months ago, but I’d swear to it. Didn’t connect them at the time. So what’s the deal with this, Soph? D’you think he had something to do with – you know . . . ?’
    I hesitated. It was a good question – and I was almost afraid of answering it.
    Slowly I said, ‘Maybe . . . I mean, think about it. There was the scene in town, when she was upset to see him. Then the next day she went off with him when he called at the flat. A couple of hours later she jumps off that balcony. That’s no coincidence, right? And it’s not the only thing that bugs me. Remember what the eyewitness said in the inquest report? That old lady? She saw Dani fall – back first. Why backwards?’ I paused. ‘And . . . aside from that, I’ve been thinking. I’m not convinced that Dani was depressed enough to take her own life. I accepted it to begin with, but don’t you remember what she was like that weekend? She was talking about the things she wanted to buy when she got paid, about the future. Would someone suicidal do that? I’m not