Walking with Ghosts

cool white Rover. The Montego shuddered to a wheezing halt as Marie switched off the engine.
    As she approached the house the door was opened by a slender vision dressed in a silk purple body with matching jogging pants. A petite, wraith-like face, perfectly made-up, gave her a wide-eyed smile, and said, ‘You must be Marie Dickens. Did you find us OK?’
    Marie put on the best face she had, and shook the woman’s tiny hand. How did they do it? These women? Didn’t they eat? Weren’t they haunted day and night by fantasies in chocolate and cream? Or was the pain of denial sweeter than sugar?
    ‘And you must be Naiomi,’ she said. ‘Naiomi Leaver.’ They were eventually settled in the leaded bay window. Antique Royal Doulton tea service, probably made by the original Sir Henry. One of those tiered cake stands with scones, tiny silver knives and forks, and cherry jam in an earthenware pot. Marie sipped the tea and swore she wouldn’t touch the scones.
    ‘Did you know India a long time?’ Marie asked.
    ‘I knew her for ever,’ Naiomi Leaver told her. ‘We were at school in Cheltenham, we learned to ski together in Switzerland. Our families were connected, I don’t know how, some dealings between my father and India’s. You know how these things are? Wheels within wheels.’ She leaned forward and swung the tiered cake stand towards Marie. ‘Do eat these scones, won’t you?’
    ‘Yeah, thanks.’ Marie took one of them, sliced it in two and reached for the cherry jam. What the fuck.
    ‘And you kept in touch?’ she said.
    ‘Very much so,’ Naiomi Leaver confirmed. ‘I saw her the day before she disappeared. We had lunch together, here.’
    ‘And her husband, Edward? You knew him as well?’
    Naiomi smiled. ‘Knew,’ she said. ‘Past tense? I still do know Edward Blake. I’m sure India has gone on to better things.’
    ‘You don’t approve of him?
    ‘I don’t like him, if that’s what you mean. I didn’t like the way he treated India. His women.’
    ‘You knew about that?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Naiomi. ‘I knew about that. And India knew as well.’
    Marie finished off the scone and looked at another one.
    ‘Please eat them,’ said Naiomi.
    Marie took the one from the middle tier; looked a little fatter than the one at the bottom. ‘You said “women” - plural.’
    ‘Yes. There are currently two. In the past there have been others.’
    ‘And if India knew about these women, I can take it that their marriage was not particularly happy?’
    ‘Surprisingly,’ said Naiomi, ‘it wasn’t a particularly unhappy marriage. Edward likes to keep a couple of scrubbers on the go. He gets off on that kind of thing. Lower-class women, young ones, easy to exploit. I suppose they’ll do anything for a fiver or a pack of cigarettes. India would have minded more if he’d had one woman, a love affair.’
    ‘Are you seriously telling me that India didn’t mind?’
    Naiomi smiled. ‘Yes. She didn’t know that Edward paid the rent for their flats. She would have drawn the line at that. She was keen on counting pennies, was India. Always used to quote that thing about counting the pennies and the pounds looking after themselves. Got it from her father. But as long as she thought it was just sex she didn’t mind. Took the pressure off her.’
    ‘And India,’ said Marie. ‘Did she have any extra-marital affairs?’
    ‘I wondered that during the last few weeks. Before she disappeared. But when I asked her about it, she denied it. I think she’d have told me if she was. We talked about men about sex, about other girlfriends. If something like that had happened, if she’d met someone, she’d have told me.’
    ‘You’re sure about that?’
    Naiomi shook her head. ‘I’m fairly sure.’
    Marie didn’t remember it happening, but when she looked at the cake stand it was bare. The cherry jam was gone, too the pot which had held it was as if it had been licked clean. She dabbed at the crumbs on her plate.
    ‘Have you any idea who killed India Blake?’ she asked her hostess.
    Naiomi shook her head. ‘I honestly don’t know,’ she said. ‘But I can tell you that India was worried about the amount of insurance Edward took out on her. She said, and this was last year, when he took it out, and she was joking, of course, but she said she thought he might be planning to kill her.’
     

13
     
    Sam shifts his head and takes your hand. He is kneeling on the floor, in front of your chair by the