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right now. We are going to the ladies. You are going to put on some lippy and we are going out.’

She dragged Beth out of the office.

‘Hold on!’ Beth shouted, pulling away. She darted back to her desk, picking up the note, folding it into quarters. She slipped it into her bag and threw the strap over her shoulder before rejoining Margot in the doorway.

As she stepped out of her office, her eyes flicked around the room.

And there she was.

Vicky.

Leaning on her desk and staring at Beth. That same old smile playing on her lips. She didn’t wave this time. She watched as Margot dragged Beth into the lavatories.

‘I’ll have to text Charlie and get him to pick Daisy up from school.’

‘I’m sure he can manage to be a father for one evening.’

‘That’s not fair. He does a lot. His job keeps him very busy.’

‘And yours doesn’t?’

‘Of course it does, but it’s easier for me to slip away. They’re much more accommodating here.’

Margot applied a fresh coat of lip gloss, eyeing Beth in the mirror.

‘All I’m saying is it won’t hurt him to look after his children for a few hours while you come out and get shit-faced with me!’

Beth pulled her phone out of her bag, typing a quick message to Charlie.

Margot sprayed herself in a mist of floral-scented perfume, handing the bottle to Beth. She glanced at her reflection, then in Margot’s direction.

‘Do I look okay? I’m not prepared for a night out.’

Margot spun Beth around so she could assess her. She eyed Beth’s black dress and matching patent stilettos.

‘I’m loving the whole Morticia Addams vibe, darling. Very chic.’ She winked.

Beth exhaled.

‘I’m kidding, sweetie. You look amazing. Black is the new black, haven’t you heard? Nobody would ever guess that you had completely forgotten your boss’s birthday drinks.’

Margot cocked her head to one side. ‘Hold on.’

She reached up, unclipping the comb holding Beth’s hair in place, and it fell down around her shoulders. Margo ruffled Beth’s locks energetically with both hands, then smiled.

‘Beautiful.’

* * *

An hour later they were standing outside a noisy bar on the seafront. Beth stood alone, staring out at the coloured lights of Brighton Pier, as Margot mingled, laughing, working the crowd. She was good at this.

Beth, on the other hand, was hopeless.

She didn’t go out much. She never had. She enjoyed a drink behind closed doors, in the comfort of her home, but in this setting she felt vulnerable.

‘Beth, hey!’

Beth turned to see Vicky heading towards her with a brightly coloured cocktail. She had a good-looking guy in tow. Thirties. Messy short brown hair framed an angular jaw. His thick, bushy eyebrows almost met in the middle. Pale skin that was decorated with a dusting of designer stubble.

Beth imagined that people often warmed to him without him having to try very hard.

He reminded her a little of Charlie. When he was younger.

She tried to pretend she hadn’t seen them, but she was too late. Before she could escape, Vicky was in her face. Her companion stood looking shy in the background a few metres away.

Vicky leaned in and gave her a kiss on each cheek. Beth froze at the close contact with a virtual stranger.

‘This is my friend, Mikey,’ Vicky yelled, motioning behind her with her free hand. She placed her lips around a plastic straw protruding from her glass and slurped the fluorescent-green liquid noisily.

Mikey gave her a wave. Beth didn’t return it.

‘So I realised why I thought I know you.’ The sickly-sweet smell of the drink wafted into Beth’s face on Vicky’s warm breath. Beth took a sip of her wine to dispel the aroma. She breathed in deeply, her nose inside the glass, as the cold liquid ran down her throat.

‘Is that right?’ Beth replied.

‘Yeah. On my media studies course. We looked at loads of famous court cases and stuff, and how the press handled them. How they treated suspects and all that, you know.’

Beth didn’t know. She didn’t care. Why Vicky thought she would be interested was beyond her. She stared into Vicky’s eyes. Waiting.

Mikey stood in the background looking at his phone. It rang, and he walked away onto the promenade as he answered the call.

‘Anyway, you look just like that girl, Kitty Briscoe.’

Beth tried to keep any emotion from her face.

‘Who?’

‘You know… Her and her friend killed that little boy, Billy Noakes. But she was acquitted. That newspaper in Birmingham printed her name and picture. Got fined shitloads of money for it. It basically finished them.’

Beth raised herself up on her toes, looking over Vicky’s shoulder. She saw Margot was facing the wrong direction. No chance of a rescue there.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t remember.’

Vicky frowned, cocking her head. ‘Even I know about it and I wasn’t born. It was like, a totally huge story. Still is. Most people think she should have gone down for it.’

Vicky raised her glass and drained the dregs of her drink.

‘And you’re telling me all this why?’ Beth asked, her tone clipped.

‘You look like her. That’s why I thought I recognised you. You could be her. Like, she disappeared after the media leaked her name and picture, so you could literally be her.’ Vicky laughed.

Beth reached up and grabbed Vicky’s wrist.

‘Ow-ch!’ she cried overdramatically.

Beth leaned in close, so only Vicky could hear her.

‘Let’s get something straight, okay,’ she hissed. ‘We are not friends. We will never be friends. I don’t care about your anecdotes. I don’t care if you think I look like some kid from a case you studied at school. I don’t care about any of that stuff.’

‘Let go of my wrist, you’re hurting me!’

‘Keep away from me. Stop staring at me. Stop talking to me. Don’t come anywhere near me. If you continue with whatever this is that you are doing, I will destroy you. I know what you’ve been doing. Do you understand?’

‘What the hell is wrong with you, you psycho!’

‘Do you understand?’

Vicky nodded frantically. She looked like she might cry.

Beth let go of Vicky’s wrist.

Vicky

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