That was how Jennifer met Kate Nesbit, Annie remembered, through the center. “Can you remember her name?”
“I’m trying. Give me a moment. She spoke it very quickly, so I can’t be absolutely sure, but it was a rather odd name.” Melanie paused and gazed out of the bay window. A white delivery truck passed by, blocking the sun for a moment. “Carmen, I think.”
“That was her first name?”
“Yes. Carmen. I remember thinking at the time that it sounded like an actress’s name, but that’s Cameron, isn’t it? Cameron Diaz. Hers was Carmen, like the opera. Her last name was Petri, or something like that. I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right.” Annie made a note of the name and put a question mark by “late girl.” “Did Jennifer she say what she was worried about?”
“No. I’m sorry. Just that it was something this Carmen said.”
“Was Carmen at the center to arrange for an abortion?”
“I assumed so,” said Melanie, “but Jenn didn’t say. I mean, that’s why people go there; or for advice, you know, if they’re undecided, they don’t know what to do.”
“Did Jennifer have any particular stand on abortion?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think she’d advise clients against it, suggest they keep the child and put it up for adoption instead?”
“Oh, I see. No, not really. Jenn believed it was a woman’s choice. It’s just that some of the women were… you know… scared, especially if they were young. Some of them just didn’t know what to do. But Jenn wasn’t an adviser or counselor. There are other people to take care of that.”
“But she did have contact with the girls?”
“Sometimes. Yes.”
“But you’ve no idea why Jennifer was concerned about this Carmen?”
“Jenn just had a habit of getting involved in other people’s problems, that’s all. It can be a bit of a drawback in her line of work. Most of the time she doesn’t have any contact with the clients, but sometimes… like I said. She’s got too sympathetic a nature, and she can’t always be objective about things. Or people. Mind you, it’s one of the qualities that makes her so special. Sorry. Made. My God.”
“Did Jenn ever receive any threats because of her work?”
“You mean because she dealt with abortions?”
“Yes. There are a number of groups actively against it, some of them violent.”
“She never mentioned it to me. I mean, I think there was a small demonstration once, but nothing came of it. Certainly no violence, anyway. Groups like that would tend to ignore the center itself because abortions aren’t actually performed there, and many of the clients go on to have their babies and give them up for adoption, so I don’t think that’s a very real possibility.”
Annie realized that Jenn’s workmates at the center would probably be better informed on this topic. She moved on. “It might be a good idea if you gave me a bit of background. I understand you knew Jennifer a long time?”
“Ever since primary school. We only lived two streets away from one another. And we have the same birthday. Her poor mum and dad…” Melanie picked up a packet of cigarettes from the arm of her chair and lit one. “Sorry, you don’t mind, do you?” she asked, blowing out the smoke.
“It’s your house,” said Annie. And your lungs, she thought to herself. “What about later? University?”
“We both did our postgraduate degrees at Birmingham. I took international business, and Jenn studied management.”
“What about your undergraduate degrees?”
“Jenn studied economics at Kent and I went to Essex. Modern languages.”
“You kept in touch?”
“Of course. We were practically inseparable in the hols.”
“I understand that just last summer the two of you went on holiday together to Sicily?”
“Yes.” Melanie frowned. “Look, may I ask just what you’re getting at? Are you suggesting there was anything… unusual… about our friendship, because if you are-”
Annie waved her hand. “No, nothing like that. None of my business, anyway.” Unless it contributed to Jennifer’s murder. “No, it’s just that her flatmate Kate didn’t seem to know an awful lot about Jennifer’s life, didn’t really seem to know much about her at all.”
“That’s hardly surprising,” said Melanie. “Jenn’s a very private person in a lot of ways. She shared the flat because she had to – London’s so expensive – but it didn’t mean she had to share her life. Besides…”
“What?”
“Well, I got the impression from Jenn that this Kate was a bit of a Nosy Parker, always asking questions, a busybody, wanting to know where she’d been and who she was with. Jenn said sometimes it was worse than being at home with her parents.”
Annie had had a flatmate like that once in Exeter, a girl called Caroline, who had even gone so far as to question her on what sort of birth control she used, and on what exactly went on those nights Annie didn’t return to the flat. And some of Caroline’s forays into Annie’s sex life smacked of digging for vicarious thrills; she never seemed to have a boyfriend of her own, and Annie guessed that was how she got her jollies. Not that Annie gave much away, or had even been up to anything, most of the time.
“Why didn’t she share with you?”
“Hounslow’s too far out for her, and I need to be here because of my work. I’d hate to have to drive to Heathrow and back every day from the city.”
“They didn’t get along, Kate and Jennifer?”
“I don’t mean that. You can get along with someone who’s not the same as you, can’t you, in general, even if some of their habits annoy you, as long as you keep a bit of distance?”
“True,” said Annie. “Sometimes it’s better that way.”
“That’s what they were like. They got along well enough. Kate kept the place clean and tidy, didn’t leave food to go rotten in the fridge, remembered to lock the door when she went out, didn’t make a lot of noise. That sort of thing. The things that are important when two people are sharing a common living space. They never had rows or anything. It’s just that Kate’s a bit bossy as well as nosy. Likes things just so. And she’s got a bee in her bonnet about smoking. I won’t even go to the house. It’s her prerogative, of course, but even so, you’d think people could be a bit accommodating once in a while, wouldn’t you?”
“I suppose so,” said Annie. “What about boyfriends?”
“What about them?”
“Any problems there?”
Melanie pushed her hair back. “I think Kate got sort of put off men. She had a scare a while back. Thought she was pregnant, so Jenn told me. Anyway, I know nothing about her love life, or lack of it.”
“And Jennifer?” Annie remembered what Kate Nesbit had told her about Jennifer’s ex-boyfriend Victor, and she wanted to find out what Melanie knew about him.
Kate paused, seemed to come to a decision, then went on. “Jenn’s the serious type when it comes to love,” she said. “Last year, just before we went on holiday, she split up with someone she’d been seeing for three years and it devastated her. I could have told her it would happen, but you can’t do that, can you? I mean, Jenn was pushing him toward commitment, living together, maybe marriage, babies, and it was obvious in the end that she’d scare him off.”
“Is that what happened?”
“Yes.” Melanie laughed. “The holiday was supposed to be a cure. Get him out of her system. Get rat-arsed and shag lots of good-looking blokes.”
“Is that how it worked out?”
“No. Does it ever? Jenn read a lot of books, and I practiced my Italian on the waiters, who were all over fifty. There wasn’t one decent-looking bloke in the whole place. Most evenings we spent commiserating with one another over a couple of bottles of cheap Sicilian wine and most mornings we woke up with splitting headaches. Oh, and Jenn got sunburn on the second day. All in all, I’d say it was a bit of a farce.”