I felt beautiful.
After that, I went to see the head. It didn’t take long.
It was all over town in weeks. I heard that Mr Smith got his windows put through, his car got egged.
When he topped himself, I realised I didn’t care. That was how I knew. If he’d been a normal, real person, I would have cared. I would have had some remorse.
But you can’t, you see. Not for them. You mustn’t. Because that’s how they get you – they make you feel sorry for them. That’s why you’ve always got to be careful; you’ve always got to be on the lookout. Vampires don’t come at you with fangs. They come at you with a smile.
I was only twelve. Then we moved to Ergarth, and another shitty classroom that smelled of sweat and floor cleaner and mud and damp, and all the things shitty schools smell of.
‘Fresh start, fresh start’ – that’s all I ever heard from teachers. That’s what they would say when I stood in front of a form group of bored-looking backwater kids who didn’t give one fuck about me. The lads would look at my tits and the girls would curl their lips and suck their teeth and everyone would sit and work out the ways they could torture me or use me.
When I started at Ergarth High, I found out who the queen bee was straight away. There’s always a boy one and a girl one. Sometimes one, sometimes more. I was good at identifying them soon.
—I’m guessing you made a beeline for Elizabeth Barton?
—You know; that’s the funny thing because, yes, she was the one. But it wasn’t her that I immediately was drawn to.
—There was someone else?
—Yes.
Gemma gives me the name and it’s not one I was expecting. Love at first sight, perhaps? Gemma shrugs. She tells me she doesn’t know what it was that drew her to George Meldby, the quiet one; the ‘firebug’.
—I think I saw a lot of me in George; he’d had it hard too, growing up.
—I don’t really know George’s story.
—There you go. No one does. No one was bothered enough to try and get to know George. He was quiet and weird, and not like everyone else, so he wasn’t worth getting to know. I think I saw in George the person I used to be.
I feel like I’ve learned quite a lot about George Meldby while making this series. I feel like I’ve got a grasp of his character and I’m interested in the side of him that Gemma was drawn to.
—So you got to know George – really know him?
—Yeah. He was quiet. Thoughtful. He only really spoke when he needed to and then it was barely a whisper. He was hard work; people couldn’t be bothered to get to know someone like that. People couldn’t be bothered to put the work in and draw him out of his shell. So he was labelled ‘weird’ and that was that. It’s hard to live with a label all your life. It’s hard to be attached to a story.
—What was George’s story?
—I think one day he’ll tell it. I hope he will. Sadly, right now, it doesn’t matter.
George and I, we were friends first. He kept reptiles you know? Snakes and geckos and bearded dragons. He loved those things; his house was full of tanks, which he kept spotlessly clean. There was a load of his mum’s dogs as well. I can see why people thought the Meldbys were odd. What people didn’t know was that all these animals were abandoned: they were all pets that people bought to take photos with and then couldn’t be arsed to look after. George took them all in. He just seemed to prefer these cold-blooded things to people.
Gemma sighs. We’ve reached the shade of an impressive Victorian mausoleum.
—That’s what drew him to her, I suppose. That cold-blooded, inhuman-ness.
—Are we talking about…
—Elizabeth Barton? Yes. Of course. George had been in love with her since they were little kids.
—George Meldby was not the only one fixated on Elizabeth, to be fair.
—Oh, I know. Everyone in the town was obsessed with her. I was always playing second fiddle to Elizabeth when I was with George.
—Were you and George an item?
—We were, I guess. We didn’t feel the need to broadcast it to everyone though. We didn’t need to post pictures of ourselves kissing on Instagram. There was no need. It was between us.
I found out a lot more about Elizabeth Barton through George. I found out the things that didn’t go with the whole ‘Lizzie B’ thing. Things that got conveniently edited out of her story.
—George knew her since they were in primary school, right?
—Yep. He was Elizabeth’s only friend in primary school – until her parents found out and put a stop to it.
—Why did they discourage their friendship?
—Because they were as bad as she was. What makes a vampire?
—Another vampire.
—Exactly. George was too odd, too quiet, his family not rich or impressive enough to be friends with the great Elizabeth Barton. The Meldbys lived on the Prim, for fuck’s sake. Harold and Mildred Barton wanted ‘better’ people to be friends with their little girl.
Harold Barton told me as much during our interview. He described the Meldbys as ‘odd’ but again, there was no real reason why George and Elizabeth shouldn’t have been friends. I never challenged it either. Gemma looks at the elaborate Arcadian grave.
—It’s like this thing. Six feet under; rich or poor, you’re still just bones, but up here it’s all about appearances. With the Bartons it was all about who you’re seen with. That was drilled into Elizabeth when she was young. You know, George was her only real friend when they were little. No one else liked her.
—George had his own issues didn’t he? With fire?
—Oh yes, he certainly did – stables, factories, schools … people.
—There was an incident in primary school wasn’t there? In the girls’ toilets.
—Yeah there was. But guess who actually tried to burn the school down? I don’t need to say it do I? She did it because she wanted to be the one who put it out – be the hero, get all the adulation. And she was, what – nine years old? Poor George got roped into it and something went wrong. Of course, it wasn’t Elizabeth Barton who got the blame, but weird little George Meldby. No one believed him when he tried to explain what actually happened. He only got into more trouble for blaming Elizabeth. That’s where it all started. Once you get given a label like that, it’s very hard to shake. Elizabeth understood that early on. George did too. That’s why he’s in prison.
—Jason Barton told me something about some stables when I spoke to him.
—I can tell you something about that too. Myrmirth stables was somewhere George and I used to like going, in the early days. Bit of a walk out in the fields, away from everyone, you know? Away from that tower. Bring a carrot and feed the horses. It was peaceful. It was nice.
—Jason told me something not particularly pleasant about the stables.
—It was the place where I told George he had to choose between Elizabeth and me; and he picked her.
—So he tried to burn the stables down?
—Hold your horses, eh?
Gemma sighs again and we begin walking. The path is shadier now and we reach a curve which leads down a wooded lane. This is where the woodland burials now take place.
—This is a long story. One that no one cared about then.
—I’m listening.
—OK, then. Everyone in Ergarth knew Elizabeth Barton. Everyone in Ergarth loved Elizabeth Barton. She was untouchable, so I made it my business to get close to her. I could never get there though. No one could. It was like she was ploughing this furrow all on her own, clambering over anyone so she could to get where she wanted to go. She went through the boys like a knife through butter. There was always drama afterwards. She’d cheat on them, and then make shit up about them, and because she was ‘Lizzie B’ everyone believed her. She had that power. She was the biggest fucking vampire I’ve ever seen.
—Vampire? Figuratively … or….
—Every fucking way.
Gemma’s definition of a vampire makes sense. She doesn’t mean in the traditional, undead-spirit sense, but something more modern. Gemma tells me her definition of a vampire is someone who sucks the energy from others, who commands the attention of the room all the time. Gemma’s vampires cannot feel love, they cannot feel empathy. Gemma tells me these sorts of vampires are on the constant hunt for attention and validation. A modern vampire is someone who is only out for themselves and leaves everyone exhausted in their wake.
—She took George away from me because she could. I knew he would choose her in the end.
—Is that why Jason broke George’s nose?
—I mean, that was just the icing on the cake. Catching him trying to burn the stables was a good-enough reason for Jason. I’ve always wondered if she told George to do it? Burn the stables just because I liked the horses. Because it was something that was ours and not hers?
—Why would she do that?
—-It was all about creating a persona. Elizabeth was the queen of that. ‘Lizzie B’ was going to be the next Zoella. Elizabeth helped create the ‘firebug’ – she got George excluded from Ergarth High not long after what happened at the stables. She set a fire in a sink in the art room. George Meldby got the blame. Again. He was gone. Simples.
—That’s awful. But why get him excluded?
—I never understood that at the time. Either she was bored with him or what’s more likely is that George Meldby had something on the Bartons that she didn’t want coming out and ruining her ‘Lizzie B’ persona. Narcissists don’t like it when the person they’ve created collides with reality. Who would believe George Meldby over the mighty Lizzie B?
—Did George have something that Elizabeth didn’t want anyone knowing? It had to be more than an incident at primary school?
—It was more. Much more. I’ll come to that.
—You’re painting a very different picture of Elizabeth Barton to the one everyone knows.
—Elizabeth Barton was validated by drama and attention. Her sole purpose was to take from other people until she was at the top of the pile. If anyone got too close, she would chew them up and spit them out. Move on to the next. Somewhere inside George, he knew this, but he still kept trying to drink from that dry well. He was rebuffed by her, ignored by her over and over, unless she wanted something.
—What kept him coming back?
—Elizabeth Barton knew how to make people do things for her is what I’m saying, yeah? George took the blame for a lot of things in the name of Elizabeth.
—Like burning down the Fellman’s factory?
—Yeah. Surprisingly enough, that had nothing to do with George.
—Really?
—Have you talked to Tommy Fellman about Elizabeth?
—I haven’t.
—Missed a trick there, didn’t you? That’s what Jason meant when he said you were cold. You’re looking in the wrong places. Tommy would have told you what she was really like.
—I know that Tommy Fellman spread lies about Elizabeth online.
—Lies! Tommy Fellman was one of the only people who dared tell the truth. He’d been to the Barton’s house, he knew what they were all like. That whole family.
—Did you know Tommy?
—A bit. He was alright. He certainly didn’t deserve what she put him through.
—What did she do?
—Oh mate, like, it got to the point where he had to record their conversations on his phone because he was so confused. She was either love-bombing him or ignoring him; their relationship seemed to be all about whether they looked good on her fucking Instagram.
Look at these.
Gemma pulls out a phone and shows me some screenshots from Tommy Fellman’s Facebook page:
Tommy Fellman: How do you know if you’re in a relationship with a narcissist?
You’re not given any empathy
She’s arrogant and entitled as are her entire family
Instagram likes are more important than real emotions
She’s totally weird about intimacy
You’re dropped immediately if someone else comes along
You’re dating Elizabeth Barton
345 Likes 55 Comments
Gemma flicks to some of the comments. The majority are abusive toward Tommy, defending Elizabeth.
—He had to delete his account after that. She unleashed all her little fans on him. I think the comment about intimacy wasn’t great though, to be fair. Everyone took it as sex, but I think he meant something else.
—What did he mean, do you think?
—If anyone got close to Elizabeth, she would find some reason to be horrible to them, or else use them to make herself more popular. If they said anything bad about her…
—The flying monkeys would get them, right?
—‘Flying monkeys’ – that’s a good term for them. Look at someone like Amirah Choudhury. I’d say she was the closest to becoming Elizabeth’s little pet, for a while. Poor girl couldn’t believe her luck.
—Snowball fight in Choudhury’s.
—Exactly. Amirah Choudhury is still running scared even though Elizabeth’s dead.
George didn’t burn down Fellman’s. But Elizabeth had helped ‘curate’ his image, hadn’t she? Of course, everyone believed it was him and he never denied it. But I knew it couldn’t have been George. There was no way. He was with me that night.
—Why didn’t he say? Why didn’t you?
—That’s jokes. No one would have believed him. Plus, he didn’t dare.
—Why on earth not?
—Because if Elizabeth found out he was with me she would have destroyed both of us.
—So who actually did it?
—What did George Meldby want more than anything? Elizabeth Barton. What was his only way to reach her? Who was his ‘in’? It had to be someone more like George. It was Jason. Jason burned down Fellman’s. Everyone knew that. Jason Barton, the fucking ‘mental hippy’. He did it because he knew he could make George take the blame and everyone would believe it.
—George took the blame for Fellman’s as a favour to Jason? Why?
—To get closer to his sister, of course. For someone like George, you can’t get what you want through the right means. There’s systems and hierarchies and social constraints, aren’t there? You have to pay a bloke to get in the back door. George didn’t even have to say anything. He just had to keep his mouth shut and not defend himself when people said he’d burned Fellman’s. And he did. For her.
—And did it work?
—George Meldby was with her right up until the end, wasn’t he? His DNA was found all over her body. So Jason did keep up his end of the bargain. Suddenly little George Meldby was hanging out with Elizabeth Barton and her mates – helping her film her videos. If anyone asked, it was because of Elizabeth’s wonderful fucking nature, taking in a little waif like George. He didn’t care why she was doing it, so long as he got to be close to her. That’s what vampires do; that’s what they want – unquestioning adoration.
—Jason Barton has had a hand in this story all along. He was the one who brought me here. To you. Did Jason break George’s nose because of the stables or because he hurt you? What is the nature of your relationship?
—Let me finish. Jason burned down Fellman’s pasty factory, not because he wanted vengeance on Tommy Fellman. Jason was as much a victim of his sister as anyone else. He did it because he was trying to get at Flynn’s Meats. He couldn’t go burning down an abattoir though, could he? What about the animals? Plus the Flynns lived there didn’t they?
—So why Fellman’s?
—Where do you think most of the meat from Flynn’s was going? Jason had his own agenda, he was trying to bankrupt Flynn’s Meats. Good thing too.
—So this brings Martin Flynn into the equation.
—Martin Flynn was always after Jason after that. He knew it was Jason burned Fellman’s down, that Jason had it in for the Flynns. But he wouldn’t do anything to Jason
because he was also obsessed with Elizabeth. And she had him exactly where she wanted him.
—How did she keep him there?
—Sex. The same as George. Martin Flynn wasn’t the brightest button and Elizabeth knew it. She had him always believing that one day she’d let him at her. Imagine doing that to someone for that long?
—That’s something else Jason told me. If it’s true, it’s a dreadful way to treat someone.
Jason Barton had one more shot at Martin Flynn. In 2017 Justice for the Voiceless attempted to shut down Flynn’s Meats once and for all. This time he did it from a distance, from right here in Bristol.
I wonder if his motivation was something other than animal welfare? I think about what Martin did to Jason’s rescued bat, Jason’s level of enmity for Martin Flynn and his family. Again, I can’t help drawing comparisons with Elizabeth and her ‘flying monkeys’ – how, if she wanted someone destroyed, she didn’t do it by halves.
Perhaps Jason was playing a longer game here, trying to make Martin Flynn finally snap. Or was Jason playing for insurance – burying Martin Flynn and his knowledge that Jason burned down Fellman’s?
The similarity here between Jason and Elizabeth is striking; the degree of manipulation and control both display, making sure that their enemies are utterly wiped out. I wonder if Gemma’s seen it too? It makes me wonder whether she’s as autonomous in all this as she thinks.
—You got to know Jason again when you moved down to Bristol? After the party when you were sixteen?
—It was a few years later, yeah. We met here through a local animal rights group. He remembered me straight away. He remembered how Elizabeth had ruined me. I had to re-invent myself after what happened in Ergarth, become a completely new person. Be myself, finally. I’d lost myself, but Jason Barton found me. The real me. He let the real me come out; I didn’t have to be something I wasn’t anymore.
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