Melissa thought about the way she’d just been with Grace. ‘I wish I had your confidence in me, but thank you.’
Debbie looked down at Grace and smiled. ‘I swear you grow an inch every time I see you! Look at those eyes too. Such a vivid blue. You’re a real beauty, like your mother and your sister.’
Grace smiled shyly at her.
‘How is Patrick?’ Debbie asked quietly, aware of Grace listening.
‘No change as far as I know, which is probably a good thing. He needs rest.’
Debbie nodded, face serious. ‘I was going to say that. No change is good. You know they’ll take care of him here.’
‘Just like they did with Joel,’ Melissa said with a soft smile.
Debbie’s face darkened. ‘I still think about that boy every day . . .’ She shook her head. ‘Listen to me! Obviously everything with Patrick is bringing back memories of Joel. Anything you need, you just shout.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I’d better go. Take care, alright?’ She squeezed Melissa’s hand then dashed off.
‘Did that lady know Joel, Mum?’ Grace asked her.
‘Yes, she was Joel’s main nurse. Don’t worry about all that, though. Come on, let’s hurry up and get to Dad.’ They continued walking along the corridors, the very same corridors Melissa would wheel Joel down all those years ago.
‘Lilly says she senses Joel sometimes,’ Grace said. ‘Maybe he’s here now, keeping an eye on us.’
Melissa’s eyes filled with tears. It was the sort of thing her mother would say. ‘That’s a lovely thought. He can keep an eye on Dad too.’
Grace shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’
Melissa paused, looking down at her daughter. ‘Why not?’
Grace held her mother’s gaze then shrugged. ‘Don’t believe in ghosts, that’s all. I was just being silly. Oh look!’ She pointed towards the gel dispenser outside the ward, her eyes lighting up. Grace was going through a phase of constantly washing her hands, over and over, so the sight of a gel dispenser was heaven to her. They both washed their hands before entering the ward then walked towards Patrick’s bed, seeing Peter Mileham there with his wife, Ellie.
Patrick and Peter had hit it off right away when they’d met at school, both the same age and new residents in a new town. Bill also became good friends with Peter’s father, Tommy, so the families spent a lot of time together. Back then, there was no Forest Grove High so they had to make the twenty-minute bus journey to Ashbridge Comprehensive. Melissa remembered watching Patrick and Peter that first term they arrived, two golden boys so confident and charming with their smart dark hair and handsome faces. The girls flocked around them, especially Patrick. He enjoyed the attention, Melissa overhearing all the chatter about the many girls he hooked up with. Patrick pretty much ignored Melissa at school. That was easy enough. She cut a lonely figure sitting at the back of the class, her scruffy blonde fringe in her eyes. She was often picked on for living in the ramshackle cottage in the woods and hanging around with ‘Beast Boy’, as everyone called Ryan back then. He didn’t go to school, his father was homeschooling him . . . supposedly.
After that first day she and Ryan saw Patrick, they continued to spy on the new family from the forest. Sometimes, Melissa would watch them alone, without Ryan.
Bill had built Patrick a ‘watch tower’ in one of the trees, a square wooden platform with a ladder leading up to it. One day, Patrick was sitting up there in the sun, reading a comic book as his younger sister, Libby, twirled around the garden in a pretty pink dress. Melissa allowed herself to imagine what life would be like if she’d been born a Byatt instead of a Quail. A girl in a pretty pink dress with shiny hair and a pile of dolls. She noticed then that Patrick had disappeared from his watch tower. She’d scoured his large garden for him before feeling a tap on her shoulder and had been shocked to find him standing behind her.
‘No Beast Boy today, then?’ he asked her, with a charming smile.
Her first instinct was to run. So that’s what she did, thrashing through the woods as he took chase until she finally stumbled over a root, smashing her knee against a rock. He’d come rushing to help her, pulling her up with his soft clean hands, apologising and insisting she come back to the house to get cleaned up.
For a moment, she considered it. But then Ryan had come charging through the forest, bare-chested and wielding the Indiana Jones whip he’d found in the woods, which he used to try to whip Patrick away. Patrick stood his ground, explaining in his calm, confident voice that he was only helping. That just wound Ryan up even more, so he punched Patrick and dragged Melissa away, the blood from her knee dripping on the fallen leaves.
She remembered turning to look at Patrick to see that he was watching with a small smile on his face, seemingly oblivious to the blood running from his nose. She realised in that moment he was just as intrigued by the two feral children living in the woods as she was by him.
‘Here, sit down,’ Peter said to Melissa now, standing so she could take his seat. ‘The doctor’s doing his rounds, he said he’d pop by within half an hour.’
‘Good,’ Melissa said, giving Patrick a soft kiss on the cheek. ‘Hello, my darling, I’m back now. Grace is here too.’ She watched his face for any reaction but there was nothing. He was usually so animated, so passionate. It was hard seeing him like this. She blinked away her tears as Ellie gave her a quick hug. She was a tall, elegant woman with short blonde hair and impeccable dress sense. Melissa had always known Peter would marry someone like her. Sometimes, she wondered if Bill and Rosemary wished Patrick had met a girl like Ellie too.
‘Peter’s been reading the newspaper to Patrick,’ Ellie said. ‘You know how he likes his news.’
‘Yes, he does. Just don’t mention the football results,’ Melissa said, trying her best to be jovial, despite the fact that her husband was lying in front of her in a coma, tubes coming out of him.
‘Or the elections,’ Peter whispered. ‘I spoke to the team. I think their only option might be to find another candidate.’
Melissa sighed as she looked at Patrick. He would be so disappointed.
‘Hello, Grace,’ Ellie said. ‘Your dad’s going to be okay, you know.’
Grace stared at her father, eyes blinking.
Melissa went to her, taking her hand.
‘Twins not here?’ Peter asked.
‘Don’t think they’re quite ready yet,’ Melissa said.
Peter frowned. ‘Oh.’
‘Any news on who did this?’ Ellie asked.
‘Nothing,’ Melissa replied.
‘Beggars belief in a town like Forest Grove. What’s the world coming to?’ Peter said, his anger betrayed by his clenched fists. ‘Actually, I know exactly what the world’s coming to.’
Melissa knew what he meant: the local factory workers; specifically, any of them who weren’t English. Whenever Peter and Ellie came around for dinner and Peter had a few drinks, his ‘dinner party racism’ would rear its ugly head, the same as she remembered happening with his father, Tommy. Ellie always looked uncomfortable, Patrick too, but neither of them pulled Peter up on it. Once, Melissa couldn’t take hearing it any more and, in as polite a way as she could, she asked him why he seemed to have such a problem with people who weren’t English. He’d got defensive and, later that evening, Patrick had asked her why she’d made Peter feel uncomfortable.
‘He made me feel uncomfortable with what he was saying,’ she’d said.
‘You know Peter, though, he’s a good man. He’d just had a few too many drinks.’
‘Yes,’ Melissa had replied. ‘A few too many drinks, which lowered his inhibitions, made him say what he really thought. Well, hopefully he’ll know not to now.’
‘No, what will happen now is he’ll be too scared to say what he thinks around us.’
‘That’s totally fine with me!’ And Patrick was right, Peter did tone it down.
But now it looked like the attack on his best friend had made him think his veiled r
acism was acceptable again in front of Melissa.
‘I have to say it,’ he said. ‘This would never have happened before the factory opened. I’m all for multiculturalism, but if it means one of my friends being hurt, I refuse to hold back on my thoughts.’
‘The man was British,’ Grace said.
Melissa looked at her daughter in surprise. ‘What do you mean, darling?’
‘Yes, I thought nobody saw anything?’ Ellie added.
Grace frowned and Melissa put her hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. ‘Grace hasn’t had much sleep. You know what her imagination is like.’
Peter and Ellie exchanged looks. Melissa knew they found Grace a bit strange. Their daughter Zoe was the same age, but she couldn’t be any more different from Grace. In fact, Melissa was pretty sure Peter had been the one to encourage Patrick to get Grace checked out for autism after comparing the two girls.
‘We really must go, Peter,’ Ellie said, getting her coat. ‘Will you be at the search tonight, Melissa?’
Melissa frowned. ‘Search?’
‘Dad arranged one for tonight,’ Peter said proudly.
‘It was just on the Facebook group,’ Ellie said.
‘What are they searching for?’ Melissa asked.
‘The knife,’ Peter replied. ‘Find the knife and you have a chance of finding the DNA of the scum that did this to Patrick,’ he said, looking forlornly down at his friend.
Melissa noticed Grace’s eyes widen and she struggled to control her own expression. He was right, of course. She really needed to find out what the hell had happened to that knife. She thought of the posters she’d found too. What if more appeared . . . what if people saw them when they walked through the forest to get to the meeting that night?
‘I see,’ she said. ‘I had no idea.’
Ellie put her hand on Melissa’s arm. ‘I’m sure someone is planning to tell you, it was only just announced.’
‘Right,’ Melissa said, brow still knitted.
Peter squeezed her arm. ‘Maybe see you there later, then? Stay strong, we’re all here for you.’
‘Thank you.’ She gave them a brief smile and they left the room.
‘Okay, sweetheart?’ Melissa asked Grace when they left.
Grace nodded.
‘Come on, let’s sit with Dad.’ Melissa pulled round the chair on the other side of Patrick so she and Grace could sit with each other. Melissa took Grace’s hand as they sat, watching as her young eyes travelled over her father’s shaved head, taking in the wires too and the blip of the monitor beside him.
‘You can talk to him,’ Melissa said. ‘Take his hand too, if you want.’
But Grace said nothing, did nothing, just continued sitting still, a slight crease in her brow.
It broke Melissa’s heart. How could she not talk to her dad, touch him? What had happened to create such a fracture between the two of them? Between Patrick and all his children, she wondered, as she thought of what she’d overheard Lewis say after talking about happy families.
Happy families. Yeah, right.
As far as Melissa knew, they were all happy. There had been a time when they hadn’t been, after Joel died, but things had finally begun to feel good again.
Melissa placed her hand over Patrick’s. She felt the strong blue veins beneath his skin, veins so familiar to her. But was he really so familiar? Did she really know him? She knew nothing of the true facts, of course, so it felt unfair to imprint the ‘what if’s on the man lying comatose in front of her. And yet if one of the kids felt they had a reason to stab their own father in the stomach, then nothing was familiar for Melissa any more and it made her feel sick to the core.
‘Say hello, Grace,’ Melissa said. ‘Let him hear your voice.’
‘Hello,’ Grace whispered.
As Grace said that, the line in Patrick’s monitor went up, a sign his heartbeat was accelerating.
‘He can hear you, see!’ Melissa said, pointing to the monitor. ‘Speak to him, Grace. He’s your dad.’
Grace shook her head.
‘Go on, darling, please.’
‘I said I don’t want to!’ Grace screamed, jumping up and running from the room. Melissa ran after her through the ward and out into the corridor. She found her sitting on a windowsill, gulping in deep breaths.
‘Oh, darling,’ she said, going to her. ‘It’s fine. You don’t have to do anything, say anything.’ She kissed her daughter’s cheek, smoothing down her blonde hair. Grace buried her face in Melissa’s neck, her whole body trembling.
‘I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this,’ Melissa whispered to her, tears filling her eyes. ‘I just wish you’d tell me what happened. I’m so scared for you all if you don’t just tell me.’
Grace peered up at her with terrified eyes. ‘I’m scared too, Mum. Really scared.’
Melissa’s breath hitched. ‘Oh, darling! Scared of what? Of who?’
High heels clicked across the corridor floors. Melissa looked up to see Andrea Cooper striding towards them with a plant in her hand, locks of her platinum bob lifting with each step. Melissa thought instantly of what she’d overheard about Carter saying something about Melissa at the New Year’s Eve party.
What had he said? And was it related to what had happened to Patrick?
Andrea paused when she saw Melissa and Grace, her face hardening slightly. Then she put on a sympathetic smile and walked over to them.
‘I was so sorry to hear what happened,’ she said. ‘We’re all thinking about you – the whole community. How is Patrick?’
‘No change,’ Melissa said, annoyed that Andrea had intruded on what was clearly a sensitive moment between her and Grace. But then Andrea had never been the sensitive type.
‘Is that a lemon plant?’ Grace asked, pointing to the plant.
‘That’s right,’ Andrea said. ‘You know how your father loves his lemons.’
‘Does he?’ Melissa asked.
Andrea bristled. ‘He does. I thought he could plant this when he wakes and, with each lemon it produces, remember how far he’s come.’
Her voice quivered as she said that. Melissa ought to feel sorry for her, except it was well known that Andrea had a massive crush on Patrick, always had, since they were teenagers together at school. In fact, Melissa was pretty convinced Andrea had lost her virginity to Patrick.
Andrea peered around her. ‘Twins not here?’
‘Not today.’
‘They’ve been to see their father, though, right?’
‘Not yet.’
Andrea looked surprised. ‘Really?’
‘It’s difficult for kids.’
Andrea forced a tight smile. ‘Of course. Any more details about what happened? He has a stab wound, yes? Head injury too? Was he found in the kitchen? Or someone said the living room, so . . .’
‘Not now, Andrea,’ Melissa said firmly.
Andrea’s eyes flickered down to Grace then away again. Melissa could tell she was desperate to hear all the gory details. Clearly Adrian hadn’t told her much. That made Melissa respect him even more.
Melissa stood up and Grace stood with her, hiding her face in her mother’s arm. ‘We’d better go.’ There was no point forcing Grace to sit with her dad if it was going to upset both her and Patrick.
She went to walk away but then Andrea shouted out, ‘Oh, wait a moment!’
Melissa sighed and turned towards her. ‘Yes, Andrea?’
‘I presume you know about the community meeting and search later?’
‘Yes, I just heard about it.’
‘Oh, good. We’ll all see you there, then.’
‘Well, I’m not sure if I’m going yet.’
Andrea raised an eyebrow. ‘Not going? But I naturally presumed you’d be there, Patrick is your husband. The whole village will certainly turn up, everyone loves Patrick.’ Tears appeared in her eyes then and she quickly smiled to cover them. ‘Isn’t it a great idea, though, the search? You can always count on
the Forest Grovians to get the job done!’
‘It’s a stupid idea, actually! And you’re a stupid, nosy woman!’ Grace shouted at her. Her little face was livid with anger, spittle coming from her mouth.
Andrea’s heavily lipsticked mouth dropped open and Melissa looked at Grace in shock.
‘Grace!’ Melissa crouched down to look Grace in the face. ‘Calm down!’
Andrea put her hand to her ample chest, face shocked. ‘Well, I . . .’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Melissa said without looking at her, eyes still on Grace, whose face had now gone blank. ‘We’re all going through a lot.’ She pulled Grace into a hug as Andrea backed away.
‘Of course,’ Andrea said, still flustered. ‘You take care now.’
She darted off down the corridor as Grace pressed her face into Melissa’s neck.
‘What was that all about?’ Melissa asked Grace.
‘I don’t know,’ Grace said, face forlorn. ‘I just got so mad at her.’
Melissa watched Andrea rush down the corridor, peering over her shoulder briefly to regard Melissa and Grace. She could imagine what she was thinking: children not visiting their father, wife not attending the search, young daughter lashing out. Something’s not right about all this. It was a popular phrase in Forest Grove, like the community had this conjoined intuition about certain situations.
Melissa did not want to be the target of that but, more importantly, she didn’t want Grace being the subject of it. Andrea was annoying as hell, but she was powerful too. Melissa realised she needed to keep control of this situation and keep Andrea on her side.
And if that meant going to the community meeting that evening, then so be it.
Chapter Sixteen
Friday 19th April, 2019
4.20 p.m.
Melissa sat at the front of the Forest Centre’s large hall with Bill, her stomach full of knots as she thought about the search that was about to take place. She’d really rather not be there but it was clearly expected of her. Plus, it would be useful to get a sense of what people knew.
The centre was a large wooden building, much the same as the other houses in Forest Grove, with huge windows at the front looking out into the forest. It housed the small reception area where Melissa had once worked and a gift shop. Beyond that was a café, which was often busy during the day with mums walking their kids, and mountain bikers and joggers. Behind the café was an education ‘walkway’, which Patrick and Daphne had worked together to set up with funding from the council many years back. It featured interactive displays delving into the life of the forest and how the community was able to run on it. The walkway led to the big hall Melissa was in now, often hired out for weddings and parties. On the walls were beautiful drawings of trees. Being here reminded Melissa so keenly of Patrick’s vibrancy, all the care and attention he’d put into this centre, the heart and soul of the village, as part of his voluntary work.
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