by Carol Wyer
‘Would you mind if we stepped inside?’ Lucy insisted.
Vicki didn’t shift from the doorway. Her face elongated and her shoulders sagged. ‘Oh, Lord. No! She’s dead, isn’t she? You’ve come to tell me she’s dead. She can’t be. No! Not Amelia. No!’ Her words turned into incomprehensible shrieks, and she slumped against the door frame and gradually sank to the ground.
Lucy looked to the man behind her, whose mouth was agape. He slung his now empty bottle of beer on the carpet and attempted to lift Vicki to her feet. She flapped her hands angrily at him and screamed, ‘Leave me alone! Leave me alone!’
Banging on the wall next door accompanied her cries along with muffled shouts of, ‘Shut the fuck up!’
Dylan slammed his balled fist against the wall and yelled obscenities back.
‘That’ll do,’ said Lucy, firmly. ‘Let’s all calm down and go inside. Dylan, could you make Vicki a cup of tea, please?’ She squatted on her haunches beside the woman. ‘Vicki, you can’t stay here. Let’s talk about this inside. Come on.’
Vicki snivelled, wiped her eyes and, aided by Lucy, pushed herself upright.
The door led directly into a sitting room, cramped thanks to the furniture in it: a large settee, two armchairs, tables, lamps, shelves filled with DVDs and PlayStation games, oak cupboards cluttered with knick-knacks and photos in plain frames. Natalie studied each one of them while Lucy knelt in front of the distraught woman and talked calmly. The pictures charted Amelia’s development from baby to teenager. The most recent was a school photo of the chestnut-haired girl whose eyes blazed as she looked into the lens. She’d have been about fifteen in it. The same age as Leigh.
Dylan appeared with a steaming mug and mumbled something unintelligible as he pushed aside a pile of magazines and placed the mug on the table in front of the settee. He stood back, eyed Lucy and asked, ‘Shall I go?’
‘Did you know Amelia?’
‘Sort of.’
‘Then I’d like you stay for the moment.’
Vicki was moaning to herself and broke off to ask, ‘What happened to my girl?’
‘I’m truly sorry, Vicki,’ said Lucy.
‘I need to know how she died!’
Natalie’s heartbeat increased as she recognised the same guttural noises that ensued. She’d made similar ones when she’d discovered her own child dead. Vicki looked directly at her, as if sensing her empathy, and she responded. ‘We believe she was strangled although it’s still to be confirmed.’
‘She was attacked?’
‘We’re trying to ascertain exactly what happened, which is why we need to find out what we can about her.’ Natalie took a step back, allowing Lucy to preside again.
Vicki continued, ‘Where exactly was she found?’
‘In a car park in Samford.’
‘Did she live or work close by?’
‘We don’t know any other details yet.’
‘Was she raped?’
‘As I said, we don’t have any other details yet.’
Vicki shook her head. ‘Please tell me. I don’t know where she went after she left us. For eighteen months, I’ve had all sorts of fantasies she was okay and living happily with somebody she cared about, or nightmares of her on the streets, homeless and abandoned. I’ve driven myself crazy worrying about where she might be and what she might be doing, so you see… I need to know. I have to know everything…’ Her voice tailed off.
‘As soon as we find out anything, we’ll tell you.’
Vicki’s eyes filled and she blew her nose. Lucy turned her attention to Dylan to give the woman time to regain her composure.
‘How well did you know Amelia?’
‘Hardly at all. I work at a local off-licence. Amelia and her mate, Tabitha, used to come in and try to blag alcohol and fags from time to time, but I knew they were underage. They’d try and talk me round… I’d send them away after a laugh and a joke. It was a bit of a game… I think they really came in because Tabitha fancied me.’
‘What was Tabitha’s surname?’
‘Rogers.’ Vicki looked at Lucy with glassy eyes. ‘Tabitha Rogers. They were the best of friends. She died in February last year… Sudden Adult Death Syndrome due to some undetected genetic defects in her heart. After her death, Amelia changed.’
‘In what way?’
Vicki’s lips trembled as she spoke. ‘She became really stroppy about everything. The slightest criticism or suggestion would send her off into a tantrum. She’d do things out of character, like when she got a tongue piercing. Ray went mad and made her remove the ring, and soon afterwards she became even more withdrawn, even got involved in fights with other girls at school, and her grades plummeted. She wasn’t exactly what you’d call a top student, but she was doing okay, until Tabitha died.’
‘And Amelia ran away soon after her friend’s death?’ said Lucy.
Vicki nodded. ‘Almost three months to the day Tabitha died, May the tenth…’
Amelia slips off her shoes on the mat outside the front door and tries for the third time to fit the key into the lock. The mixture of wine and vodka she drank has made her woozy, and every time she attempts to slot the key in, it misses. Tabitha would be in stitches if she could see the state of her friend now. The grin that had begun to play around her lips falls away and the familiar feeling of emptiness creeps back into her soul.
She was happier tonight – not full-blown happy, but for the first time since Tabitha’s death she felt okay and laughed and felt… loved or at least wanted. Meeting Tommy has been the best thing to have happened to her recently, and tonight he proved how much he cares about her. She focuses on those delicious memories as she makes another attempt to locate the keyhole. It’s a good thing Mum is on night shift otherwise she’d have been downstairs by now, demanding to know what the hell was going on. The problem is, as much as Amelia wants to spill out exactly how she feels and cry in her mother’s arms, she simply can’t. It’s like she isn’t able to be herself any more. She wants people to understand yet she puts up a barrier and hides behind it, and recently she’s done a load of stupid shit and she doesn’t even know why. Getting a tongue piercing was one of the craziest things but her dad went ballistic at her and made her take it out. She’s going to get more piercings – a belly one for certain. They’ll not even notice she’s had it done.
Mum doesn’t understand, and although she makes all the right noises and tries to help Amelia, she can’t. Nobody can take away the pain Tabitha’s death has caused or understand why Amelia now hates her life. Dad doesn’t even try to grasp what is happening. He goes mental at the drop of a hat. Tabitha had nicknamed him Killjoy Ray – a ray of misery; she had been spot on with that description. This time there is no smile. She misses Tabitha badly.
The door opens suddenly and takes her by surprise. Her father is still dressed in the shirt and trousers he wore to the office. His mouth is a thin slit. There’s no point in explaining anything to him. She clamps her lips shut so he won’t be able to smell the alcohol on her breath as she passes by him. She hadn’t expected him to be awake. Normally, he falls into a dead sleep most nights, exhausted from his work and the two-hour-long journey he makes to reach the office every day. He observes as she shoulders her schoolbag and attempts to weave her way through the sitting room towards the far door which leads to her bedroom without falling into any of the furniture. His icy voice halts her.
‘It’s half past ten.’
‘I know. We finished later than I expected and I missed the earlier bus.’
‘I don’t remember you telling us you’d be out.’
‘I told Mum I was going to a friend’s house after school to do coursework.’
‘Who?’
She tries the first name she can think of, a girl in her class who might back up her story. ‘Kimberley.’ She releases her breath as he nods.
‘Your phone was switched off.’
‘Battery ran out.’ She wants to get to her room now. If he checks
, he’ll find out she is lying.
‘Your headteacher rang me.’
Fuck! She’d hoped the sob story she gave her form teacher had been enough to see her free for the day.
‘You’ve been skipping classes again in spite of all your assurances you’d knuckle down. He’s also concerned about your grades. You failed a major test this week and you swore at the maths teacher. What on earth is going on in your head? This isn’t the way to behave. You have to think about your GCSEs. What sort of future will you have if you fail them?’
It’s his usual line. All he cares about is how well she does in school. He doesn’t give a stuff about what’s going on in her head. She clenches her fists, ready to do battle again with her overbearing father, but the fury drains away as quickly as it appeared. This isn’t going to get them anywhere. She needs him to grasp why she can’t face classes or the other kids or spending day after day looking at an empty desk where Tabitha once sat. She wants him to hug her, say something kind to her. She has to explain how awful it is without her friend, and she opens her mouth to say she’s truly sorry, but he keeps talking, his voice tight as if the words are being strangled in his throat.
‘I’m sick to death of your attitude. I’ve tried to be understanding and we’ve both suffered your childish, rude outbursts and sulky attitude, but I won’t have my daughter lying to me, skiving school and sneaking out until late at night, getting up to… heaven knows what.’
His diatribe sparks off flames of anger that leap and burn in her chest. What the heck is he accusing her of? ‘I haven’t been up to anything!’ she yells.
‘Really? Then why do you stink of alcohol and cigarette smoke?’
‘I haven’t been drinking. Kimberley’s mum smokes.’ The lie comes easily but she knows he can see through it.
His eyelids lower and he studies her reaction, and before she can speak again, he reads something in her face and says menacingly, ‘Where have you been all day and night?’
She can’t tell him the truth, that she’s spent the time with a boy, talking and living, and feeling normal again.
‘Give me your phone.’
‘No!’
‘Give it to me!’ he yells.
She sniffles angrily and fumbles for the mobile.
He takes it, presses the button and watches as the screen lights. ‘There’s nothing wrong with this battery.’
She can’t meet his look. She hopes he will hand it back but he doesn’t; instead he does the unthinkable and reads her WhatsApp messages, pausing at one, nostrils flaring. She knows which one it is. It is the topless selfie she sent Tommy. The silence is worse than her father’s anger. She feels ill, partly due to the alcohol and partly to do with the fear now creeping stealthily through her veins. He lifts a hand and smashes it against her face with a hefty crack.
She cups her stinging cheek, misery drowning out all other emotions. ‘It’s not what you think,’ she mumbles.
He points the screen at her and she sees herself naked in what she’d thought was a sexy pose, but suddenly it all seems crude. ‘Isn’t it?’ He thrusts the phone into his pocket. ‘I’ll deal with you tomorrow. Get to bed.’ His voice drips menace.
She’s really messed up this time. Dad will tell Mum, who’ll support him in whatever he decides, and they’ll ground her for weeks. She’ll be marched to school and return to classrooms where she can’t concentrate on work but will sit and yearn for Tabitha. She can’t bear the thought. She can’t stay here. Tabitha whispers in her ear, ‘Time to move on, babe. I’m here. I’ll stick by you. You’re not alone.’ Her father is still glaring at her. She rubs her sore face and backs away. Her mother won’t be home until the morning. She’ll leave tonight.
Vicki’s face was blotchy and swollen and she snuffled as she spoke. ‘I didn’t know anything about it until the following morning, when I went to wake her for school and found a note in her bedroom. She’d gone.’
‘Do you still have the note?’
‘It’s in a jewellery box in her room.’
Dylan got to his feet. ‘I know where to look. I’ll fetch it for you.’
Silence fell over the room once he left. Vicki snuffled noisily then mumbled, ‘He’s my lodger. I need the money to pay the mortgage… after Ray… died.’
‘It must have been hard for you both, after Amelia ran away,’ said Lucy, and she received a nod.
‘I was angry with Ray for losing his temper with her. I told him time and time again she was only misbehaving because she was hurting over losing Tabitha, but he kept on and on at her about her attitude and behaviour. The night they really fell out, I was working late at the care home and I didn’t know anything about it. Ray had planned on telling me in the morning, but before he had a chance to, I found the note and knew she’d gone for good. He was so remorseful, he made himself ill with worry, and when she didn’t return, he got worse. He knew it was his fault, and eventually, he couldn’t cope with the guilt any longer and… he took his own life.’ She wiped at cheeks stained with tears.
Dylan reappeared, an envelope in his hand. He passed it to Lucy, who took it from him.
‘Did you ever see Amelia after Tabitha died?’
‘She didn’t come into the off-licence again. I spotted her hanging around on the streets on a few occasions. I even went outside to talk to her once. She was leaning against the wall, looking… lost and I felt sorry for her. She admitted she missed Tabitha. I had to go back inside to serve, and when I’d finished, she’d gone.’
‘What changes did you notice in her?’
‘Like I said, I didn’t really know her. I’d only spoken to her a few times. Tabitha was the ballsy, pushy one. Amelia was much quieter. I can’t say I noticed any changes.’
‘And how long have you been living here?’
‘Six months now, isn’t it, Vicki?’
She wiped a hand across her face and sniffed again. Her voice was thick from crying. ‘Dylan split from his partner and needed a place to stay. I needed a lodger. He’s good company.’
Natalie observed the pair for signs there was more to their relationship but noticed nothing untoward. Lucy, meanwhile, had pulled out the note from the envelope and read it, then handed it to Natalie.
Mum and Dad,
Don’t bother reporting me missing or looking for me. I won’t come back, and if the police do find me, I’ll only run away again and again. I’ve taken what I need and I don’t want anything I’ve left behind in my room. You can do whatever you want with it.
I can’t live with you – either of you. Dad is always on my case and you, Mum, you always look like you’re too scared to talk to me. Neither of you understands how I feel or anything about me, and you don’t really care what I think or feel. You don’t even try to understand, so I’m making it easier for you and leaving.
I’ve taken my savings and I’ll be fine.
Bye.
Amelia
A hard lump formed in Natalie’s throat. The girl had sounded lonely and forlorn. If MisPers had located her, would she really have run away again, or was this simply a desperate act by an unhappy teenager? She folded the note with care and returned it to Lucy’s outstretched hand.
Lucy spoke again to Vicki. ‘Is there any reason you can think of as to why Amelia would head to Samford rather than anywhere else?’
Vicki shook her head.
‘Did she mention any friends who lived there?’
‘She didn’t have many friends. Tabitha was her best friend and she lived in Nottingham all her life.’ The tears fell again, this time rendering her unable to speak.
Natalie understood the terrible pain she was enduring. Her own pain over losing Leigh was still raw at times. Dylan glanced at her and gave a small nod in the direction of the far end of the room. Natalie followed him through a door into a small hallway with a staircase. He moved through another door into a narrow kitchen, chewed at a thumbnail and then spoke quietly.
‘I didn’t want to say anything in front
of Vicki, not while she’s upset, but Amelia and Tabitha used to hang out with older lads and try to get them to buy booze for them. After Tabitha died, I saw Amelia with a bloke I’d not seen before. He came into the shop to buy some vodka and ciggies and I asked him for ID to make sure he was over eighteen. He was called Tommy, I’m sure of it. I don’t remember his surname though.’
‘Did you tell the officer in charge of her disappearance about this?’
He nodded. ‘They asked everyone who knew Amelia if they had any idea where she might have gone. I mentioned I’d seen her with this guy.’
‘How old was he?’
‘Twenty-four but definitely looked younger. As I said, I checked his ID.’
‘What did he look like?’
‘My height but really skinny with long, dark, frizzy hair, and he had a large hole in his ear. Can’t remember which one. He was a bit… grubby, like he’d been working on a building site or garden or maybe a garage. He was full of himself. He eyeballed me the entire time, like he wanted me to challenge him, and even after he bought the stuff and left the shop, he turned around and stared at me through the window. I got the impression he wanted to deck me.’
‘Hit you?’
‘Yeah. Some guys give off that air, don’t they? He was one of those spoiling for a fight. Maybe he would have too if another customer hadn’t come in at the time. I noticed Amelia was all over him – overly friendly.’
‘In what way?’
‘She put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.’
‘Did you see him again?’
‘A couple of times, but he wasn’t with Amelia. He came in alone, for cigarettes.’
‘Can you recall seeing him after Amelia ran away?’
‘No. He didn’t come in the off-licence again.’
Natalie looked around the kitchen. A slow cooker switched on at the wall was emitting a delicious aroma of rosemary. ‘How come you moved in with Vicki?’
‘She put an ad in the local post office and I answered it. I needed an affordable room near work. She’s been really good to me.’