by Carol Wyer
‘That’s exactly why she left. I didn’t want her to. She believed it was the right time for her to leave, even though she’d have saved money by living here. She spent the first year in halls of residence. I had hoped she’d come back for her second year, but she chose to go into university accommodation – a house on Eastview Avenue.’ She looked wistfully at a photograph of Gemma on a small table beside her. ‘I think what she really meant was it was time for me to let go. Children have to find their own feet in the end, don’t they? Do you have any children?’
Natalie had been dreading her asking the question, but Murray filled the brief silence with a quiet, ‘No.’
‘I fell pregnant with Gemma when I was still at school. I left before I took any exams. I don’t regret it. I never regretted it.’ She paused again, mind flitting through her backlog of memories, her voice wistful. ‘Gemma was bright – really clever – and I was very proud of her. Me, I’m no good at all that academic stuff – writing and languages – not like her.’ Her voice cracked again and she buried her face in the cushion, her shoulders shaking. Natalie couldn’t bear to watch and crossed over to her, sat beside her and draped an arm over her shoulders. The simple gesture of kindness seemed to help. Sasha gradually calmed and all the while Natalie fought the pain in her own heart. She understood what this woman was going through.
She glanced at Murray and asked, ‘Could you get Sasha a glass of water?’ While he was gone she squeezed the woman’s arm in solidarity. When the sobs abated and Sasha had sipped the water, she was able to answer their questions. Although she took her arm off Sasha’s shoulder, Natalie didn’t move from the settee.
Sasha tried again. ‘I’m quite good at sewing, and Gemma persuaded me to start up a small bespoke clothing business. We made a deal: she’d get her degree and I’d take up the challenge to make a collection of outfits. She wanted me to use her bedroom as a sewing room while she wasn’t there.’ She stopped again, searched Natalie’s face for a sign of comfort and received an encouraging nod. ‘I sent her a photo of one of my outfits earlier. She loved it. I… I don’t think I can manage without being able to speak to her ever again.’ Her face shifted as if something broke inside her.
Natalie spoke gently, trying to tease the information from Sasha. She wanted to know who might have thrown the acid but she couldn’t ask that directly. ‘Do you have a boyfriend or partner?’
‘No. There’s been nobody serious for a long time.’
‘Nobody since Gemma left home?’
‘Nobody.’
‘Was Gemma seeing anybody?’
Sasha rubbed at her red nose and shook her head. ‘Her course was very demanding and any free time was taken up with bar work. She went out with Ryan for a while, but she ditched him.’
‘Ryan? Do you know his surname?’
‘No, but he lives in the same house as her. They got together at the beginning of September.’
‘Did she tell you why she ended their relationship?’
The eyes filled again and Sasha stammered, ‘She… told me… everything. There were no secrets between us.’
‘What happened between her and Ryan?’ asked Natalie.
‘Gemma wasn’t looking for anything heavy and he got too serious, too quickly.’
‘In what way was he serious?’
‘He was always texting or ringing her and wanted to make their relationship official and for them to be a proper “couple”, but she didn’t. She liked him a lot but she also enjoyed going out with other friends, and her job. He’d sulk or get argumentative if she took off on her own. After about a month, she dumped him.’
‘Did she mention having any problems with him afterwards?’
‘No. It was sticky for a while but they managed to remain good friends. Gemma had that effect on people.’ She blinked back more tears and her voice wavered. ‘There was no bad blood between them.’
‘How about other housemates? Did she get along well with them?’
‘She definitely got along with Lennox. He’s very sweet. She was good friends with Hattie. Hattie’s older than the others and used to live in a commune before she went back to college and got her qualifications to go to university, so she sorts out the housework rotas and is a bit like a mother figure to them. Gemma liked her a lot.’
‘And the others in the house?’
‘There’s only Fran. Gemma didn’t often mention Fran, but I bumped into her on a few of my visits and she seemed okay. Will I… will I be able to collect her personal belongings?’ The thought clouded her face.
‘The family liaison officer will go through what will happen next. They’ll help and guide you. You won’t be alone,’ said Natalie, as Sasha’s eyelids fluttered and her lips trembled again.
‘Do you happen to know if Gemma was a member of any groups or societies?’ she asked. It was an idea to find out who Gemma was likely to have mixed with and if any of them might have borne her a grudge.
‘No. She wasn’t in any that I know of.’
‘She was studying languages, wasn’t she?’
‘Russian and German. Gemma was always gifted with languages.’
‘Did she mention any of the other students taking the courses with her?’
Sasha ran a hand across her face. ‘Only in passing. I don’t remember their names.’
‘Did she bring home any friends from university to meet you?’
‘No. I met a few girls and boys when she was living in the halls of residence. I don’t remember all their names though. I’d only say hi to them if I saw them on the stairs or in the flats. There were lots of them.’
‘Of course,’ said Natalie with a nod.
‘She didn’t have any very close friends. She joked once, she didn’t need them because she had me.’ She swallowed hard. ‘We had a very special relationship. Nobody could understand how close we were.’ Her lips quivered again and her eyes turned glassy with tears. ‘So special.’
Natalie put a hand on Sasha’s. Faced with a woman who was going through the same hell she had recently experienced was proving tougher than she’d expected.
‘You’re doing really well. Is there somebody who can stay with you tonight?’
‘I can’t think of anyone.’
‘You have no friends or relatives?’
‘I don’t really see eye to eye with my mum and besides, she lives in Bristol. There’s my cousin, Gail, but I haven’t seen her in years. I can’t burden myself on my neighbours because they’ve got young children, and I can’t ask any of my work colleagues. I don’t really have anyone other than Gemma,’ she said, her words petering out softly. There were three large photographs on the wall of her and Gemma, black-and-white images taken by a professional of the pair of them on a beach, laughing, hair blowing in the wind, holding hands as they ran along the sand.
It was evident that Sasha depended on Gemma, and how she’d cope without her daughter didn’t bear considering. Natalie glanced at Murray, who’d been sitting quietly during the remainder of the interview, and he shook his head. He had nothing to add.
‘Has a liaison officer been in touch with you?’
‘Yes, there were two of them. They’re coming back tomorrow.’ She reached for the cards bearing their names.
Natalie read them and knew the officers in question. One of them was quite young and still training. She thought of Tanya Granger, with whom she’d worked on numerous cases. Single mum Tanya would be a better fit for Sasha. ‘I’m going to ask one of my colleagues to come across and keep you company for a while. She’s a very experienced officer who’ll understand exactly what you’re going through.’
‘Thank you. I’d like that.’ Sasha reached for and clutched the cushion even more tightly. Such vulnerability and helplessness ripped at Natalie’s heart.
‘We’ll do everything we can to find the person responsible,’ said Natalie.
‘Thank you, but… it won’t change anything. She’s gone.’ Her words hit home. Natalie could never return
this woman’s daughter to her, any more than she could bring back Leigh and Zoe, yet that was all she could do: find the perpetrator and hope the justice system would handle the rest.
They returned to Murray’s car, where Natalie slumped in her seat, arms folded tightly, thoughts on Sasha. Murray pulled away from the kerb and drove down the road.
Outside, the rain had petered out to a light drizzle. The town was quiet and people were in their homes for the night. Some would be snuggled in bed with their loved ones, others thinking about their long day at work. Their routines and lives took on a normality that only shifted when something unexpected occurred. Her life had been smashed to pieces and so had Sasha’s.
Gemma,
I watched you and your mother today, your heads almost touching as you whispered behind hands, until you both broke away simultaneously and laughed until your eyes watered.
I’d have given anything to have laughed alongside you both and shared that moment.
You’ve never known what it is like to be unloved by the one person who should be by your side no matter what. Your mother watches over you, pride in her eyes. When she laughs with you, it’s a sincere, proud, tinkling laugh, not a cold, disappointed bark. You have no idea what I would give to have a mother like yours.
I tried to talk to you today but you didn’t see me. I edged ever closer to you, hoping you would speak first. When you didn’t, I opened my mouth to talk, but you snubbed me and walked away. It wasn’t wise to give me the brush-off, Gemma.
I can be a truly good friend but I also make the perfect enemy.
An Admirer
Chapter Five
Friday, 16 November – Night
Eastview Avenue, on the opposite side of Samford, consisted of three-storey Victorian houses in various states of disrepair. Numerous bicycles, their front wheels removed for added security, were chained against iron railings that fronted some of the tall buildings; Lucy guessed those were the houses occupied by students.
Ian couldn’t find a parking space for the squad car so they double-parked outside number 53 and rushed towards the arched porch, where they shook off the water droplets stuck to their hair and coats. Rain gushed over a broken gutter and splashed down the side of the building like a small waterfall.
‘Fucking shitty weather,’ said Ian, rubbing his face dry. ‘I hate it when it’s like this. One day, I’m going to give this up and move somewhere hot and sunny like Australia.’
‘Yeah, sure you will. You’d make a great beach bum – all suntanned and rippling muscles,’ Lucy replied.
He smiled at the quip. ‘I’d soon learn how to become one. It’s got to be better than this.’ Ian rang the doorbell and waited. When nobody appeared, he tried again and left his finger on it a little longer.
Lucy took a step back into the rain and looked up at the windows above her. ‘There are lights on. Try again.’
Ian hammered on the door and pressed the bell once more. This time the door was opened by a woman in her mid-twenties, in a onesie, fluffy dressing gown and soft grey slipper-boots with furry tops. Her pale face, framed by deep-auburn hair, was devoid of make-up, and small creases appeared on her forehead at the sight of the officers. Lucy held up her ID card and introduced herself and Ian. ‘Sorry to disturb you but could we come in and chat to you for a moment?’
The woman invited them into a hallway filled with the aroma of spicy food. The sound of laughter came from a room.
‘We were just eating,’ the woman explained.
‘We need to talk to all of you. It’s regarding one of your housemates.’
The woman hesitated before saying, ‘Come through. There’s only three of us here at the moment.’
Lucy and Ian followed her into the kitchen, where a young man with shoulder-length brown hair and a light beard, in jeans and a faded khaki sweater, and a girl with several facial piercings, wearing a baggy jumper, short corduroy skirt and thick striped tights, were sitting on plastic chairs and eating from aluminium foil takeaway trays. Dance music was coming from a black box on the kitchen top, which was cluttered with an array of cereal boxes, plastic bags of bread, jars, sauce bottles, mugs, glasses and dishes. The man placed his fork and tray on a scuffed wooden table.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
Lucy and Ian introduced themselves again. ‘Could you turn off the music, please?’
The girl with the piercings obliged and the room fell silent. ‘I’m afraid we have some bad news regarding one of your housemates, Gemma Barnes.’
The woman who’d shown them in lifted a hand to her mouth and took a sharp breath. ‘What’s happened to her?’
‘She was a victim of an acid attack outside the library earlier this evening.’
‘No! Is she okay? Where is she? Is she in local hospital?’ the young woman said in a rush.
Lucy glanced at the other pair, who seemed equally startled by the news. ‘I’m sorry to tell you that Gemma died at the scene.’
The woman blinked furiously and said softly, ‘No. No.’
‘We understand this is difficult for you but we need to talk to you all urgently. You lived with Gemma and we need to find whoever did this to her as quickly as possible. We’d appreciate your help in finding who did this. I’d like to start by asking your names, please.’
Ian pulled out a notepad and prepared to write down details.
‘I’m Hattie Caldwell.’ The woman in the dressing gown moved silently across to the table, dropped down onto a blue chair and put her head in her hands.
‘How did she die?’ the young man asked.
‘We aren’t sure at the moment but we think it was as a result of the acid attack.’
‘But an acid attack wouldn’t kill her,’ he replied, his heavy brows pulled together.
‘Lennox knows because he studies chemistry and he’s a bit of a boffin,’ said the girl with the piercings. Her accent was broad Liverpudlian and she gave off a defiant air.
The young man scowled at her. ‘Shut up! You’re making me sound weird.’
‘No. You make you sound weird,’ she replied, pointing her fork at him. ‘Fancy coming out with that shit. Gemma’s dead and you talk about the unlikelihood of an acid attack actually killing her. She’s dead, you cretin!’
Lennox drew a breath then started to speak again, but the girl stared insolently at Lucy and said, ‘I’m Fran Ditton.’
‘Thank you, Fran. Lennox, what’s your full name?’
Lennox gave Fran a cool look then said, ‘Lennox Walsh and I’m not weird. I don’t understand how she could have died that way. I know about acid burns and they wouldn’t kill her, not unless she was drenched in acid. Did she swallow any?’
‘When we know for certain we might be able to tell you, but for now, I need to establish where you all were between seven and seven thirty this evening,’ said Lucy.
‘I was at a student council meeting at the students’ union, to discuss entertainment for the coming year,’ said Fran.
‘What time was that?’
‘Six until eight. It dragged on a bit longer than that and then we went to the students’ union bar for a while. I got back about half an hour ago.’
‘Lennox?’
‘I was at the chemistry lab from six-ish until half eight or maybe a bit later.’
‘Any witnesses to confirm that?’
‘I was working alone on an experiment. One of the lab assistants might have spotted me although I don’t remember seeing anyone. I was busy. Somebody will have seen my car. I own an old red Saab. It’s quite recognisable and it was in the science car park all the time I was working there. We have to swipe our passes for access into the labs. You can probably check I was there with the science department staff. It’ll be logged on a system somewhere.’
Ian made a note to check how far away the science department was from the library, to check the pass entry system and to establish if any CCTV cameras had picked up Lennox so they could confirm he was in the lab the whole t
ime.
‘Hattie, where were you?’
The young woman was miles away, her eyes unfocused. She didn’t respond.
‘Hattie, where were you earlier this evening?’
‘Oh, sorry. I was here all evening. Gemma and I had a cup of tea and a chat before she went to the library.’
‘What time was that?’
‘Around quarter to six.’
‘What time did she leave?’
‘I don’t know exactly. She was going to catch the bus into town and I think that goes every half an hour. We were in the kitchen at least fifteen to twenty minutes.’
Fran spoke up. ‘The buses leave from the bus stop at the bottom of the road at ten past and twenty to the hour.’ It meant Gemma would most likely have caught the bus that left at twenty to seven.
Hattie continued, ‘Gemma asked me for a lift because I normally have a lecture at six on Fridays, but I couldn’t take her. I was feeling lousy – I think I’m coming down with flu or something – and I skipped off.’ She looked up with damp eyes. ‘If I’d taken her, this wouldn’t have happened.’
‘I don’t think you can blame yourself at all.’
‘I should have driven her. This is my fault!’ Hattie wrapped her arms around her thin body, hugging herself tightly, tears cascading down her face.
Fran leapt off her chair and crouched down in front of Hattie, putting hands on the woman’s shoulders. ‘Pack it in, Hattie. It isn’t your fault. You didn’t chuck acid at her.’
‘I know, but—’
‘There is no “but”. You did nothing wrong.’
‘But dead… she’s dead.’ Hattie looked away again. Her words were forced, one syllable at a time. ‘I… need… to… leave.’
Lucy said, ‘I understand how hard this is for you but we really do need to get as much information as we can. If you could just—’
Hattie shook her head and Fran jumped up and faced Lucy; her jet-black eyes were like flinty rocks.