by Ruth Mancini
I managed to yank the door open, before turning and running down the hallway. I flung the front door open and stumbled outside, and down the narrow garden path, unaware of whether I was being followed and too scared to turn round and look to see.
The pains in my chest abated a little as I reached the street, and safety. I turned and looked back at the front door, which I’d left open behind me. There was no sign of Martin, but a movement in an upstairs window in the house next door caught my eye. I looked up to see a face peering out at me just before the net curtain fell down. I quickly dropped the knife into the garden, and crossed the road to my car.
15
The police were already waiting for me when I reached the hospital. I’d been shaking so much that I could barely drive, but I needed to get away from Cambridge, away from that house and back to my mum, who would be wondering where I was. I parked as near to the entrance as I could and walked down the corridor. As I turned into the ward, two uniformed police officers stood up to greet me. My mum was packed and ready to go, I noticed, and she smiled and waved as I walked in.
“Elizabeth Taylor?” one of the officers asked me.
I nodded.
He pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Elizabeth Taylor, you are under arrest for affray and possession of a bladed article in a public place. You do not have to say anything,” he told me, moving towards me and taking me by the arm, spinning me round and clicking the cuffs over my wrists behind my back. “But it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”
“No!” I pleaded, and looked at my mother, who looked as though she were going to faint.
“But... but you said you just wanted to talk to her,” I heard my mum say in a calm voice. “I thought she was going to help you with your enquiries?”
I could just see, out of the corner of my eye, a nurse leaning forward and comforting my mother as the officers took one arm each and marched me off the ward. I pressed my toes against the floor outside in the corridor and tried to pull my arms out of their grip. “Stop!” I pleaded. “Please, just listen to me for a minute. You’ve got this all wrong.”
It only served to make matters worse. For the second time that day I was manoeuvred to my knees; I felt the cold shiny floor of the hospital corridor smack against them. The officers remained standing, so that the hard metal of the handcuffs tugged painfully at my already bruised wrists. One of the officers pulled my arms back, high into the air, so that I was bent over double, facing my own knees and the shiny floor beneath me. Behind me, I could see the feet of the hospital staff and patients lining the corridor, queuing up to catch a piece of the action, but I was in too much pain to care very much about my public humiliation.
“Please,” I begged. “Let me up. I won’t struggle anymore.”
“We’ve called for backup,” said the male. “There’ll be other officers here shortly.”
“There’s no need,” I sobbed. “Please. Just let my arms back down. You’re hurting me.”
The officer ignored me. I turned my head towards his female colleague’s feet. “Please,” I begged again. “I’m not moving. I’m still. I’m in pain. I think you’re going to dislocate my shoulder.”
The female officer bent down. “Just keep still. If you stay calm there’ll be no need to use leg restraints.”
“I want to keep calm,” I told her, “But he’s hurting me. Please, just tell him to loosen my arms a little.”
The pain in my wrists and shoulders subsided as the second officer lowered my arms and crouched down beside me. I was careful to keep very still. “Thank you,” I said.
“Just stay still.”
I rested my forehead on the ground. “You’ve got this all wrong, you know,” I said to my knees. “I was just about to call you myself. He’s just got in first, and no doubt told you a pack of lies.”
“There’s an independent witness who saw you with a knife,” said the male officer. “You’ve committed a serious offence.”
“Where’s the knife, Lizzie?” asked the female officer. “What have you done with the knife?”
“The...what? I... I threw it back into his garden,” I said.
I heard the officer radioing to a colleague, “Check the front garden. DP says it’s there.”
A minute later there was a commotion and I looked up to see several pairs of shiny shoes coming down the corridor towards me. I was suddenly pulled to my feet and escorted out of the building by seven or eight police officers who lifted me up and shoved me like a sack of potatoes into the back of a big white van.
*
I spent a miserable few hours being interviewed by the detectives who’d taken statements from Martin and the very frightened independent witness, Mrs Bennett from next door. I spent an even longer – and marginally more miserable – few hours and an entire night lying on a smelly thin mattress in a police cell, both before and after the interview, while the police first took their statements and then sought advice from the CPS as to what to do with me next. I insisted on having photographs taken of the bruising to my wrists and knees, but the force used by the police during my arrest had effectively masked any evidence of what Martin had done to me, and all they had been left with was my word against his, the scratches to his face, and the good word of the public-spirited Mrs Bennett, who had been sure to tell the police that she’d be prepared to come to court to give evidence against me, if needed.
I was aware that the police had released my mum’s car keys to Keri at some point during my stay. Both my mum and Keri were waiting in the car outside the police station when I was released the following morning.
Keri wound down the passenger window. “What happened?” she asked.
“Are you alright?” asked my mum, who was sitting in the driver’s seat.
I nodded. My shoulder was very painful still and my wrists and knees were still bruised and sore, but my injuries weren’t life threatening, not like my mother’s. “You shouldn’t be driving, Mum. I could have got a cab.”
“I’m okay,” said my mum. “We’re just worried about you. What happened? Who did this to you?”
“Helena’s father,” I said, as I got into the back seat. “And thanks. Thanks for not assuming I did something wrong.”
Mum shook her head and patted my hand, which was resting on her seat. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes. “You’ve always been a good girl, Lizzie. I knew there had to be some kind of mistake.”
“Except...” Keri turned in her seat and looked at me. “Well, you did pretend to be me.”
“I wasn’t arrested for impersonating you, Keri,” I told her. “I was arrested for affray. For threatening him with a knife.”
“A knife?” My mum gasped. “Where did you get a knife?”
“From his kitchen. I grabbed it to defend myself after he tried to rape me. Again.”
My mum and Keri both stared at me in silence. I told them what had happened, from the start.
“So, who called the police?”
“He did. He knew that, if he didn’t, I would, and so he decided to get in first with his side of the story. With his bullshit.” I put my head in my hands for a moment and took several deep breaths. I looked up. “That’s the irony,” I told them. “I wasn’t going to let him get away with it a second time, I was going to call the police myself just as soon as I’d got to the hospital and made sure you were alright. But he got there before I did, with the support of his neighbour, who saw me at his door, heard me shouting at him and heard him telling me to go away. Oh, and then she saw me outside his garden, with a knife in my hand as I left. She probably went running straight round there. She probably thought I’d stabbed him or something. I wish I had.”
My mum shook her head. “No you don’t. You’d never do anything like that. So, what did the police say? Did you tell them what really happened?”
I nodded. “I told them the truth. I honestly don�
��t know if they believed me or him, but the custody sergeant said in the end that it was one person’s word against the other about what happened inside the house, and that they were going to let me go, with no further action. Oh, except for a harassment warning.”
My mum’s face fell. “A what?”
I smiled, ironically. “They gave me a harassment warning. I’m not allowed in his street or anywhere where I know he’s going to be. If I do, they’ll get a restraining order.”
“That’s not fair,” said Keri. “All you did was knock on his door.”
“He told them they’d been getting menacing phone calls for weeks – him and Lindsay. Apparently I’d been ringing up and putting the phone down without saying anything.”
“Did you?”
“No! Of course not.” I said, then corrected myself, “Well, once, that’s all. Yesterday. I was caught by surprise when Lindsay – his girlfriend – answered. But then I called straight back and spoke to her.”
“And pretended to be me,” said Keri.
I looked at her. “Yes, alright, Keri. I pretended to be you.”
“And lied to get his address,” Keri added.
“I know. I did that. Once, I phoned. That one time, that’s all. I just wanted to know where Helena was spending her time. But the neighbour said that I was harassing him on the doorstep, that he clearly wanted me to go away. He set that whole thing up. That’s what she was meant to think. He’s angry that I kept Helena from him, and now he says he’ll make sure she hates me, that she doesn’t want to know me.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said my mum. “Helena loves you.”
“He can’t do that,” said Keri. “She’s only known him five minutes.”
“Watch him,” I said, as my phone rang from inside the plastic police property bag and Helena’s name flashed up on the screen. I undid the clasp and pulled the phone out.
Helena was livid. “Have you gone crazy, Mum? What have you done?” she accused me.
I took a deep breath. “I suppose that depends on who you’ve been talking to.”
“You know who I’ve been talking to.”
“Of course,” I said. “I might have guessed he’d make sure you got his side of the story first, while I was safely banged up.”
“Actually, you’re wrong,” Helena said. Her voice was cold and unfeeling. “He phoned me to tell me he had Sky’s wallet, that’s all. You know, the wallet you stole from my car? He didn’t want to talk about you. But he was really shaken up, I could tell. I made him tell me what happened. I had to prise it out of him.”
“Of course you did.”
“I did! He actually didn’t want to tell me. He was being really nice about you. He was trying to justify what you did, by saying you were probably just insecure about me and him, but it’s no excuse, Mum. I understand you being upset. I knew you would be, when you found out, but I never thought you’d go this crazy. What were you thinking of? Going round his house and threatening him with a knife! It’s like I don’t know you anymore.”
I rubbed at my temple. “I didn’t...”
“And you wonder why I didn’t tell you that I was seeing him?” she asked, although I hadn’t wondered at all and I hadn’t asked. I knew exactly why she hadn’t told me. She hadn’t told me because he’d asked her not to. He’d asked her not to, because he wanted to mess with my head first. He wanted to make sure that when I did eventually find out, I’d feel so betrayed and left out and anxious – and that I’d be so mad – that I’d do something crazy, like go to his house and attack him with a knife. He wanted to make sure that my daughter would be really upset with me.
“And that’s not all is it?” Helena was saying. “First you go through my stuff, you steal Sky’s wallet...”
“I didn’t steal it.”
“Well, what would you call it? I don’t believe Keri found it, and neither does Sky or my dad. It was you, you took it.”
“I just wanted to...”
“And then,” Helena’s voice was rising steadily. I’d never known her this angry. “And then you go through my phone...”
“I didn’t go through your phone, I... I saw the number flash up and I...”
“Well, what were you doing with my phone in the first place? And I know you read my texts before, Mum. I’m not stupid. I know that’s how you found out about Sky and me being in touch in the first place.”
“How...?”
“Sky told me,” she said. “Something you said to him, that you could only know if you’d been reading my texts. And he’s right, isn’t he?”
I looked up at my mum and Keri, who were both turned round in their seats, looking at me sympathetically. I nodded at my mum. “Go,” I mouthed. “It’s okay.”
My mum switched the engine on and manoeuvred out of the police car park.
“Okay, yes. I did. Once. But only because I was worried about you. You weren’t talking to me and...”
“I can’t believe you, Mum. Going into my personal stuff. I feel invaded. Those conversations were private.”
“They were about me,” I said. “That’s the only bit I read.”
Helena’s voice rose again. “Don’t try and justify it, Mum. Everything you’ve done, in the past few months has been obsessive. Phoning Martin and Lindsay up and putting the phone down without speaking. Who does that? And why did you pretend to be Aunty Keri? Tricking Lindsay into giving you the address and then going to his house and causing a scene, threatening him with a knife! I can’t believe you’d do something like that.”
“That’s because I didn’t,” I said. “It didn’t happen like that. And in fact, the police have let me go, with no further action.”
“Oh.” She paused. “Well, I’m glad about that, but...”
“He was the one who threatened me. He attacked me...”
Helena interrupted me again. “Will you just stop lying, Mum? You were at his house! You lied to find out his address. He didn’t even want you there. He told you to go away. Why would he attack you? It doesn’t even make any sense.”
“Helena, just listen a minute. He grabbed me and pinned me to the ground. He tried to...”
“Yes, I know. He said you went crazy and he had to restrain you. He doesn’t need this. He’s in pieces over all this. All he was doing was getting on with his life. How do you think he felt, finding out he’s got a grown-up daughter that he never even knew about?”
You’re not that grown-up, I thought. It felt as though my heart was breaking. You’re just a kid, after all. And I can’t protect you any longer. I can’t do my job.
Helena continued, “And then he gets all this hassle from you on top.”
“When did he... find out about you?” I asked her. “How long have you been seeing him?”
“Long enough to know that he’s a really nice person,” she said. “And you’ve made him out to be some kind of psycho. Well, I think you’re the one who’s crazy, do you know that?” She started sobbing. “I can’t believe I’ve missed out on knowing him, my whole life, because of your obsession with him. It’s like I don’t even know what’s real and what’s not, now. Everything you’ve told me, I believed without question. And now... now, I’m questioning everything you’ve ever said, about my whole past.”
“I can see that,” I said. I was feeling very weak and tired all of a sudden. “He’s done a good job.”
“Don’t start blaming him again for what you’ve done,” Helena said fiercely. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. She continued, “You should be glad he’s sticking up for you, after all you’ve done to him. You should be glad he’s still willing to explain away your behaviour, even after you’ve made him miss out on having a daughter for all these years. Even after all the trouble you’ve caused.” She paused for a moment but I had no energy left to argue with her. “Oh, and by the way, Lindsay has left him too, thanks to you.”
I sat up. “She’s left him? Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she
asked.
“No,” I said. “Not really.”
“Well, I don’t know the ins and outs, do I?” Helena said, irritably. The fact that I was to blame was clearly more important to her than the facts of what had happened. “All I know is that they had an argument, about you. I don’t think she could deal with it all, with you harassing them. Your violence, and... and the silent phone calls. Most of them were when Martin was out and she was scared.”
I laughed. The silent phone calls were made to Lindsay, when Martin was out. Of course they were.
“What? You think it’s funny?”
“Did she tell you all this?” I asked.
“Of course not,” said Helena, indignantly. “She’s gone. This is what she told Martin. She said she couldn’t live like this, with the threat of your violence and what you were going to do next.”
“Think about it, Helena,” I said. “Don’t you think it sounds a bit odd...?”
“No,” she said. “I don’t. What’s odd about wanting out of a crazy situation? I know how she feels.”
“Helena, listen...”
“No, Mum. You listen. It’s got to stop.”
“I...”
“Stop interrupting me, Mum. It’s impossible trying to talk to you with all these interruptions. I want you to stop all this crazy stuff. Stop phoning Martin. Stop going round there. Stop phoning McLaren House. Stop checking up on me. Look,” she said, more gently. “Why don’t you just go back to France? Be with Christian. Get some support. Go and see the doctor. Get yourself sorted out. Whatever it takes, you need to do it. I love you and I want you to be okay.” She started crying again. “But I need to get on with my life. D’you get that?”
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. I leaned my head back against the soft back seat of the car. “I get that,” I told her. “I get it loud and clear.”