Free How to Fall by Jane Casey Page B

about Freya?’
    There was no point in lying. ‘I still want to know what really happened last summer.’
    He didn’t answer me straight away and I wished he wasn’t silhouetted against the light. I couldn’t see the expression on his face clearly enough to know what he was thinking.
    ‘And what have you found?’
    I shrugged. ‘Different people remember different things. I haven’t put it all together yet.’
    ‘But you’re sure you will.’
    There was a hint of mockery in his voice and I was instantly nettled. ‘Like your dad didn’t?’
    ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
    ‘I gather he’s the top cop around here. It should have been his job to find out what happened to Freya.’
    ‘He looked into it. He didn’t find any evidence of foul play.’ Will’s voice was completely neutral.
    ‘Did you agree with that?’
    ‘There was no evidence.’
    ‘That’s not an answer. Did you agree with him?’
    ‘My opinion doesn’t matter a lot to him.’
    ‘Really? I’d like to know what you thought about it.’ It was my turn to fold my arms. I hoped I looked self-possessed. Determined. Not how I felt, anyway. ‘I’d like to know why you warned me to mind my own business when I asked you about Freya. Why would you bother with that if her death was an accident?’
    ‘I didn’t say it was.’
    ‘So you think it wasn’t? Where’s your money – suicide or murder?’ I was meanly pleased to see him flinch, glad that I could get a reaction from him. ‘I don’t know why she’d have wanted to kill herself, but you might have a better idea.’
    It was almost reluctant, the way he moved away from the door. His stride was slow and measured as he came towards me. The look in his eyes was anything but friendly. ‘What makes you say that?’
    ‘A shot in the dark?’ I could have left it there. I probably should have left it there. ‘Look, I don’t know you but you seem awfully tense about what happened to Freya. And you keep turning up. You really want to find out what I know, don’t you? That just sounds like guilt to me.’
    He seemed to consider it for a moment. ‘Why would I be guilty?’
    ‘You tell me.’
    He was still coming towards me and I took a step back, wanting to put some distance between us. The house was a long way from the studio. Too far to expect anyone to notice that I was no longer alone.
    Too far for anyone to rescue me.
    What had I got myself into now?
    Panic was just starting to flutter beneath my ribs when Will stopped a metre away from me and squatted down to flip through the canvases. He paused on a swirling painting in apricot and yellow tones. I turned my head sideways to look at it. The painting was an abstract but I couldn’t help trying to make it into something real, literal-minded as I was. It could have been a sunrise, or a sunset. Or leftover mustard on a plate.
    ‘Not my favourites, these, but she was pleased with them,’ Will remarked. Art criticism. I was grateful enough for a neutral topic of conversation to join in.
    ‘Darcy said Freya was trying new things out.’
    ‘Darcy? When did you meet her?’
    ‘Yesterday. She was really helpful.’
In a way that you aren’t
.
    He frowned. ‘Look, I’m not saying you should stay away from her, but don’t trust her.’
    ‘What does that mean?’
    ‘Just what I said.’
    ‘You can’t say something like that and not explain it.’
    He shook his head decisively. ‘I’m not saying anything else about her. But don’t believe everything she says.’
    ‘About Freya?’
    ‘About anything.’
    ‘You’re not her biggest fan, are you?’
    ‘It’s completely mutual.’ He turned back to the paintings and something about the set of his jaw told me I’d heard as much as I was going to about Darcy. I would ask her what she thought of him, I decided. Darcy was unlikely to be discreet.
    While Will concentrated on the paintings I was free to stare at him, and stare I did. Up close, I could see that spots of water