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Elliott looks upset. He puts his hand on Jennie’s. ‘Yes we were there, and yes we’re guilty of helping cover up what happened. But you have to believe us,’ he says, his voice becoming more insistent, ‘we only did it to protect Rob. You’d have done the same if you were there, Jen. You’d have wanted to protect him. It was an awful accident but it’s what Hannah would have wanted.’
Jennie stares into Elliott’s eyes. She thinks of all the good times they shared in that year of upper sixth: how he’d taught her to develop her own photos, how he listened to her talking tearfully about her dad and how much she missed him, how he never judged her or mocked her but always treated her with kindness.
She yearns for that time again. That feeling of friendship and belonging and hope.
Then she thinks of Hannah, her heart sister, her best friend, reduced to the bones dug up from the muddy trench she’d been dumped in all those years before. Her resolve hardens.
Jennie narrows her gaze. Lets go of Elliott’s hand. ‘What about the acid?’
Chapter 42
Elliott stares at her, frowning. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The forensic report on Hannah’s shirt showed a high saturation of hydrochloric acid,’ replies Jennie. ‘We used that in the darkroom; it was your favourite intensifier. So I had the delivery logs checked. They showed a bottle of hydrochloric acid was part of the supplies you took delivery of on the day Hannah went missing, but also that you ordered another bottle just two days later. Why would you need to replace the bottle so quickly?’
Elliott takes a couple of steps back from her. His pupils dart from side to side. His hands are clasped together. Simon is looking at him, furious. Lottie, wide-eyed and still tearful, seems to be in a state of shock.
‘It took months for us to use a bottle of hydrochloric acid,’ Jennie insists. She looks pointedly at Elliott’s hands. ‘Why do you have acid burns on your palms?’
‘It happened the day after Hannah went missing. I was distracted, clumsy,’ says Elliott, falteringly. ‘The new bottle had a faulty seal. I didn’t check it and paid the price; it spilt over the floor and as I tried to prevent more damage, it splashed over my hands.’
‘Bullshit.’ Jennie stares at Elliott. His anguished expression makes her want to stop this, but she can’t. She’s onto the truth. She knows it. ‘You were always so careful. I remember how insistent you were about correct procedure and safety protocols. You never handled the darkroom equipment without protective gloves.’
Elliott looks away. Lottie avoids eye contact with him, as if distancing herself. Simon gives a small shake of his head.
Jennie looks from one old schoolfriend to another. Her voice is firm. ‘Tell me the truth about what happened that night.’
They all stay silent.
‘Did you argue about Hannah spreading rumours about you?’ says Jennie, stepping closer to Elliott. A muscle pulses in his jaw. She needs to push him harder. ‘Did you throw acid at her in revenge?’
‘I didn’t do anything,’ blurts out Elliott, his expression horrified. ‘I’d never have hurt Hannah. It was Lottie.’
Jennie looks at Lottie. ‘What did you do?’
‘You can’t say that, Elliott,’ protests Lottie. ‘I didn’t do anything. I loved Hannah.’
Jennie turns to Simon, who’s seething with ill-concealed rage. ‘If it wasn’t Elliott and it wasn’t Lottie, was it you, Simon? Did Hannah’s affair with Duncan Edwards make you lose it? Or did she finally dump you like she’d been threatening for months? Did you kill her in a jealous rage? Or—’
‘I never bloody touched her,’ shouts Simon, his face turning a darker shade of puce. ‘Don’t look at me, Elliott’s right, it was all Lottie’s fault.’
Lottie gasps. ‘No, you promised …’ Her voice breaks. Tears stream down her face.
‘Tell me the truth. Please,’ says Jennie, her voice soft and encouraging.
Lottie shakes her head. ‘Simon’s lying. It’s like we said before, it was a tragic accident.’
‘I loved Hannah too,’ says Jennie. ‘I just need to know.’
‘We told you already.’ Lottie’s gaze flicks to Elliott and Simon as if looking for confirmation. ‘If anyone’s responsible, it was Rob.’
Jennie keeps her eyes on Lottie. ‘I don’t believe you.’
Lottie’s eyes widen. ‘But you have to believe me. We’re friends, Jennie. Haven’t we always been friends? I’d never lie to you.’
‘But you’ve already lied,’ says Jennie, calmly. ‘Your alibi was a lie and saying the darkroom crew didn’t meet without me was a lie. It’s obvious your story about Hannah, the drugs and the scarf is a lie. You need to tell me the truth. After all these years don’t you want to tell the truth? Keeping it a secret didn’t do Rob any good, did it?’
Lottie shakes her head. ‘No, no, you’re wrong. It’s not—’
