The Seagull (Vera Stanhope #8)

by Ann Cleeves

‘Becca. That was what she called herself. There was something special about her. She was an actor. I could tell that, even while I was doing her interview. She could tell what you wanted from her, and she was willing to give it.’ ‘And what did she want?’ Vera leaned forward, elbows on her knees, not caring that it made her skirt ride up. ‘Danger. Excitement. That was why I wanted to keep an eye on her. She was one of those kids who are on the edge. She could have been a great asset to the business. She was stunning to look at, you know, even dressed for school; and she wasn’t far off eighteen, when we could have employed her in the club, not just the restaurant. But you could tell that it might be a risk to take her on. She had that glitter about her. Needing to be the centre of attention. Desperate for celebrity. And stifled by those parents, who couldn’t understand her at all, so everything was a battle. She was used to a challenge, that was the way she operated.’ Elaine stopped, shrugged. ‘Sorry, that all sounds a bit daft.’ ‘No,’ Vera said. ‘You’re helping me to see her. I’ve known kids like that. Needing extremes. Terrified by boredom.’ The ones who become addicts. Who jump across rail tracks to paint crazy graffiti, and who steal for the fun of it. Or who become decorated soldiers, famous explorers and award-winning entrepreneurs.