The Heatwave
Page 8
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘On the upside, it does mean I’m my own boss. I spend most of my days smoking weed and playing PlayStation in the back room. No one’s going to come in here today. We could go for a walk and talk more about this, if you want?’
I look over at him for a moment, that sweet underused smile on his face. ‘I’d like that.’
‘Give me five minutes to lock up.’
I feel like I’m cheating on Chris even though all I’ve done is ask a few questions. But Jason is undeniably attractive and he has a way about him, a confidence. I remember it a little from the way he didn’t succumb to any kind of peer pressure back then. If only we were all that wise.
He locks up the shop and comes outside. We walk back down the road towards the centre and Jason lights up a cigarette before offering me one, which I decline.
‘I can’t believe it’s happened again. When I saw on the news that a girl had gone missing I was half expecting to be arrested immediately.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Did you think I did it? Back then I mean.’
‘No. I never thought you did it.’
‘That’s something, I suppose. Took me a long time to get over it. Felt like everyone was looking at me all the time, judging me and stuff. The police questioned me relentlessly for twenty-four hours, it was horrible.’
‘Must have been hard.’
‘Not as hard as whatever happened to Hannah,’ he says, and I hear his voice crack a little. I guess it never occurred to me how hard that year might have been for him, for anyone really. I have always been so wrapped up in my own drama, it’s something I truly hate about myself.
‘Did they ever find her?’ I ask, knowing the answer already, unsure why I am asking.
‘No. They never did.’
Chapter Eighteen
Then
Jasmine ate cereal in the kitchen with the radio on, as Tim worked on redecorating the pantry, a tiny room off the kitchen that was lined with the most offensive wallpaper Jasmine had ever seen. The skit on the radio was some awful schlocky prank call show where the presenter phoned a random local business and tried to get the owner to say a specific word without letting them in on the joke and, if they did, the show would give five hundred quid to charity. Today the word was ‘penetrate’. Jasmine cringed just listening to it. The segment finished and the news came on, with an appeal for a missing girl, last seen at the local bus depot a little after nine. Hannah Torrence.
Jasmine felt her stomach drop. She had been standing next to her just the day before, at the fair.
Tim came out of the pantry and looked around to check Jasmine’s parents weren’t there. ‘Did you tell them about last night yet?’
‘No.’
‘You hear that on the radio? A girl went missing. You have to tell them.’
‘I don’t think he would do anything like that. Maybe she just ran away,’ she said, unconvinced by her own words.
‘He wasn’t well, that man. He was dangerous. What would have happened if I hadn’t been there? That could have been you on the news,’ Tim said.
Tim was right. A strange mixture of relief and guilt washed over her. Had she led Mr Morrell on? Had she turned him into the person who grabbed hold of her? Did he come back down from the clifftop and take his anger out on someone else? On Hannah? She remembered how Tim had come out of nowhere and rescued her. He had been so protective.
‘My parents will never let me out of the house again if I tell them this. I’ll be grounded for ever, lo-jacked probably, and forced into some kind of home-schooling situation in a windowless room. You have no idea how they reacted last time. Everyone will hate me – they hated me last time, said it was my fault that he did what he did. He might not have anything to do with what happened last night and the police won’t look for anyone else if I just drop him in it – and how will Hannah’s family feel if they think he was coming after me instead?’
‘None of that matters. Justice is what matters. You don’t have to tell them anything beyond what actually happened. This might come out eventually and then where will you be? How will people feel about you then? You can’t keep this to yourself, it’s not your secret to keep. What if he took that girl?’ Tim was more invested than Jasmine expected him to be; he seemed genuinely upset at the disappearance of this girl. She had to ask herself why he was so desperate for her to put Mr Morrell in the frame. He was right about one thing though, the truth always came out, and so she really felt like she had no choice.
The stairs creaked, alerting Jasmine that Lisa was coming down. She jumped up and put the kettle on before her mother arrived in the room.
‘OK, I’ll tell her,’ Jasmine whispered over the sound of the kettle.
‘Do you want me to go?’
‘No, stay.’ Jasmine wanted to gauge his reaction as she told her mother.
Jasmine pulled a mug out of the cupboard and started to make her mother a coffee, to give her something to focus on while she was telling Lisa about what had happened at the fair.
‘Morning, Jazz. Ooh, could you make me one?’
‘This one’s for you,’ Jasmine said. She looked over at the pantry to where Tim was leaning against the door with his arms folded, as if he were just part of the scenery.
‘Oh, I thought it might be for Tim.’
‘I’m fine, I just had one,’ he said, before turning his head to Jasmine and nodding ever so slightly.
‘I need to talk to you about something,’ Jasmine said. No point delaying it now.
‘What is it?’ Lisa asked, seeming almost excited at the prospect of a rare heart-to-heart with her daughter, especially one she didn’t have to instigate. Jasmine put the coffee in front of her mother on the dining table, before sliding into the chair opposite her. She wished she had a mug to hold onto; she didn’t know what to do with her hands.
‘I saw Mr Morrell last night.’
‘What? Where?’ Lisa’s eyes widened with alarm,
‘At the fair,’ Jasmine said.
‘He was at the fair? He’s not supposed to be around kids,’ Lisa said, her nostrils flared and lips pursed together in a tight knot, her jaw twitching as she tried to suppress her anger.
‘He wasn’t at the fair. I went to the loo and he came up to me.’
‘He was in the toilets?’ Lisa said, horrified, her voice jumping several octaves.
‘No. Mum, calm down, it was on the way to the loos on the front.’
‘Were you alone?’ she asked, a little calmer, obviously trying not to spook Jasmine into shutting down.
‘Yes, Flick was in the queue for one of the rides – it was huge and so I just said I would go and come back rather than us both losing our spot.’
‘What did he do? Did he hurt you?’
‘No, nothing like that.’
‘Then what?’
‘He just said he wanted to talk, he grabbed my arm and he was crying, it was all really weird.’
‘That fucking snake. Wait ’til I tell your father; he’s going to go ballistic,’ Lisa said through her teeth.
‘It’s fine, I don’t think he will bother me again,’ Jasmine said, mostly to convince herself. He hadn’t got the message and it was clear he had no intention of giving up – she had been able to tell that much from those few terrifying moments with him.
‘And he just let you go? He didn’t do anything … sexual?’
‘Mum!’
‘You know what I mean, Jazz.’
Jasmine looked over towards Tim, still standing quietly with his arms folded. ‘Tim was there, he stopped him. I think he scared the shit out of him. Mr Morrell ran off and Tim brought me home.’
‘Why the hell didn’t you tell us?’ Lisa snapped at Tim angrily.
‘I begged him not to. He told me I should tell you guys. I was just afraid you would lose it completely,’ Jasmine said. Tim didn’t seem particularly bothered by Lisa’s outburst as he maintained his same casual stance in the d
oorway.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs B, I just didn’t want to break Jasmine’s trust like that. She was pretty upset at the time and I didn’t want to make things worse.’
‘So you broke our trust instead?’ Lisa said. It was the first time Jasmine had seen her annoyed with Tim.
‘Don’t be mad at him. If he hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would have happened. I just heard on the news that a girl went missing after the fair. You don’t think it was Mr Morrell, do you?’
‘We’ll have to speak to the police,’ Lisa said, her demeanour suddenly calmer, as if she had somehow accepted the situation was resolved. ‘Is there anything else you haven’t told me?’
‘No, that’s it. I swear.’
‘I had better call your dad to come back for when you speak to the police. You shouldn’t be keeping secrets from us, Jasmine.’
‘I just didn’t want you to freak out like last year,’ Jasmine said, although that was only part of it; the other part was that she didn’t want to be this eternal victim, she just wanted to be normal and like all the other girls in her year without her parents hawking over her every move and making her feel like somehow this was all her fault. Whether or not that had ever been their intention, it was how they made her feel, and she was the one who had to adjust her behaviour after the incident at school. It had all felt like a punishment.
‘I think you should write down what you remember from last night. I’m going to grab a shower and then we will call the police when your father comes home,’ Lisa said, seeming exasperated.
The legal proceedings against Mr Morrell had been very public and exhausting, with some people more than convinced that Jasmine was lying just to ruin a good man’s career, despite the fact that there was video evidence and it wasn’t Jasmine who was pushing the case forward, it was her parents. The thought of going through all that again was less than appealing and Jasmine knew that if it wasn’t for this missing girl and some form of civic duty, her parents would probably want to keep the police out of it. As much good will as they had within the community, it would always be hard to be a talking point in a small town like this.
Her mother left her coffee on the table and disappeared upstairs. Jasmine grabbed a pen and paper from the kitchen drawer.
‘I saw you at the fair,’ she said to Tim. ‘You were arguing with one of the blokes who worked there. I thought I was imagining it, until you found me talking to Mr Morrell.’
‘I was just asking him if he had any paid work going,’ Tim said, shifting uncomfortably, tightening his crossed arms.
‘I won’t tell the police what I saw.’
‘What do you think you saw?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You tell the police what you need to tell them. Tell them you saw me at the fair if you want, or don’t, it makes no odds to me. You don’t have to lie for me,’ Tim said, before disappearing into the pantry again.
Jasmine started to jot down the details of the night as she remembered them. Everything except seeing Tim at the fair before he came to rescue her by the beach. She had asked him not to tell her parents, and he hadn’t, so she would keep his part in her story to a minimum. The police probably wouldn’t care anyway so there was no need to drop him in it. He had respected her wishes and treated her as though she were old enough to make her own decisions and mistakes, and she didn’t get a lot of that in this house. It was nice to finally have someone she could trust. It was nice to finally have an ally.
Chapter Nineteen
Overwhelmed by the events of the last few days, Jasmine had taken to her room to read a book. She needed a little escapism knowing what was coming since she had told her parents about bumping into Mr Morrell again. She had already spoken to the police but it wasn’t over yet, not if last time was anything to go by. A gentle knock at the door disturbed her. She was annoyed before she even knew who it was or what they wanted. She just wanted to be alone.
‘What is it?’ she asked, sensing someone hovering on the other side of the bedroom door. She had no idea why someone would be up this early in the morning, let alone want to talk to her.
‘It’s Mum, would you come downstairs, please?’
‘Have I got time to shower first?’ she asked hopefully. The hair at the base of her scalp was wet, so were the wisps that usually tendrilled around her ears. Today they were sticking to her cheeks.
‘If you must, but be quick,’ her mother said, and Jasmine heard her walk away and down the stairs.
She had spent almost all day yesterday giving her statement to the police, as they questioned her over and over about who and what she’d seen at the fairground. They’d tried to poke holes in her story, as if she had any reason to lie to them. They’d also asked her lots of questions about Jason Evans, about what kind of person he was, and about Hannah Torrence – if she saw Mr Morrell talking to her at any point. The officers weren’t familiar with Jasmine’s case against Mr Morrell but when they discovered what had happened, their focus shifted and they became much more interested in him and why he was hanging around the fair. Maybe after Jasmine had rebuffed him he had gone after Hannah.
The police station had been completely airless and in the heat Jasmine had found it hard to concentrate. When they finally did get home, she had gone upstairs to bed and lain listening to music until she drifted off. This morning she wished she had taken the time to shower before she went to sleep; she felt positively grubby.
Jasmine grabbed a towel and jumped in the shower, momentarily relieved. She twisted the tap, taking short, sharp breaths as the water got cooler, revelling in the feeling as it ran down her body, before she quickly washed her hair and got out again. Shivering, she dried herself, but the feeling only lasted a few seconds before the temperature of the room warmed her again. She pulled on a clean cotton night shirt and headed downstairs.
As she approached the kitchen, she heard her parents talking to someone. It became clear as she entered the room they were talking to a police officer, a different one to the ones she had spoken to yesterday.
‘Jasmine. There you are,’ Frank said, a look of deep concern on his face.
Jasmine flashed an angry look at her mother for not warning her, suddenly self-conscious about the nightshirt she was wearing, which had a cartoon panda on it. She tugged at the hem a little. At least the police officer was female.
‘What’s going on?’ Jasmine asked. Surely they couldn’t have any more questions about what had happened at the fair. Was she going to have to go into counselling again? The look on her parents’ face told her it was about Mr Morrell. They had worn that look for most of last year.
‘Hello, Jasmine, I need to speak to you about your former teacher, Mr Morrell.’
‘What about him?’ she said, glancing outside towards the guest house involuntarily. She felt like she was in a three against one situation.
‘There’s no easy way to say this.’ The police officer, who hadn’t even introduced herself, looked at her with a disturbing amount of concern. Jasmine wanted her to just say what she was there for. The suspense was unbearable. It was way too early for this.
‘No easy way to say what?’
‘Mr Morrell has taken his own life. Because of the restraining order and the notes on his file, I have been instructed to notify you.’
‘What? When?’
Jasmine thought back to the fair. He’d seemed distressed when she’d seen him but it seemed completely out of character, not that Jasmine was sure she ever really knew what his character was. She felt as if he’d had more he needed to say to her.
‘We found his body on the east side of the beach. It appears that after he was questioned yesterday he got drunk and jumped from the top.’
‘He jumped? Is that high enough?’
‘Apparently so.’
‘Does she need to hear all of this?’ her mother asked, trying to protect her from the wrong things as usual.
‘It will be all over town soon enough. He was found b
y one of the parents from the school who was out fishing at the crack of dawn, so there’s no keeping a lid on this. I just wanted to give you a heads-up,’ the officer said.
‘I’m supposed to be meeting my friends at the beach today. Everyone’s going to be talking about me again. I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t want to hide.’ Jasmine could feel her chest tightening, the familiar anxiety she felt for most of last year creeping back. She was sorry about what had happened to Mr Morrell but this wasn’t fair; she couldn’t handle being the centre of everyone’s conversations and dirty looks again.
‘You don’t have to go anywhere today,’ Lisa said quickly.
‘I’ll be fine,’ Jasmine lied. Today was going to be hell for her, but staying locked up inside was no alternative. Last time Jasmine had been vilified when he lost his job because of her, not just by students either. She knew a couple of teachers thought it was all her fault, that she had somehow encouraged him or led him on in some way.
‘I know you gave a statement to the police already. But did Mr Morrell give any indication that he might do something like this?’ the police officer asked.
She didn’t know how to answer. His suicide would now almost definitely be linked to Jasmine for ever. How was she supposed to know if he’d been suicidal?
‘Are you saying she could have done something to help him? Maybe she should have just let him cop another feel and everything would have been fine. For fuck’s sake. Do you not think maybe it was a bit insensitive to come here and suggest that my daughter’s statement caused a man to commit suicide? Do you not think maybe it was his devious behaviour and twisted mind that was the problem?’ Lisa snapped, reaching out for Jasmine’s hand, which she pulled away. The police officer looked apologetic. This wasn’t the kind of thing that happened much around here and so they probably didn’t get much practice at being tactful.
‘I need to get ready for the beach, if that’s all? I told the police everything yesterday. I don’t know anything else,’ Jasmine said, walking away before anyone had a chance to stop her. She really didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She tried to remember if Morrell had given any indication that he was thinking about ending his life, replaying that evening over and over in her mind. Then she remembered something else she hadn’t told the police, something that seemed so inconsequential at the time, something that she had almost forgotten. She remembered the darkness in Tim’s eyes when he’d glanced towards the cliff path; it had been chilling. When she got to her room she looked out of the window towards the guest house. Had Tim done this? Had he done it for her? Something about that idea excited her. She felt bad because she was glad Morrell was dead and she didn’t want to say it out loud.