I Thought I Knew You

by Penny Hancock

  Rowan had a can of beer in one hand, and sat and swore at the people whose food he had eaten and drinks he had drunk, at the people who had come to their barbecues and joined in with them at dances in the school hall, cursing the lot of them for trying to save the life of a rapist. ‘Why are they wasting their time? That boy deserves whatever’s happened to him.’

  ‘Rowan, please,’ Jules said.

  When the news had finished, Rowan said he was going to the pub ‘to calm myself down’.

  It wasn’t much more than thirty minutes after he left that the doorbell rang.

  Two police officers stood at the door, silhouetted against a greenish sunset that lent them an eerie, otherworldly appearance.

  ‘We’d like a word with you about the disappearance of Saul Seymore,’ said the man. ‘This is my colleague Detective Constable Maria Shimwell. I’m Detective Inspector Carlos Venesuela.’

  The same faces Jules had seen on the TV screen only an hour or so earlier come to life in front of her. Venesuela and Shimwell glanced around Jules’s large sitting room, the one with the picture window that gave a view over the fen down towards the river. Everything out there, the wet fields, the pollarded willows just losing their leaves, with their stumpy trunks and flailing young branches, was washed in the same bottle-green light.

  Jules could see that this beautiful room impressed the detective constable. Her pale face coloured as swiftly as litmus paper as she took in the home cinema and the enlarged photos of Saffie as a baby that they’d had printed on to canvas, the cream corner sofa, and the other one in pigeon-grey buttery leather.

  ‘We hear that your daughter made an allegation of rape against the boy who disappeared on Monday morning,’ she said, turning away from the window at last and facing Jules.

  Jules stared at the thin policewoman. They had all worked so hard to keep the allegation quiet, and surely – surely – as she’d just said to Rowan, Holly wouldn’t want to tell the police about something that would cast Saul in a negative light.

  ‘Would you mind if we spoke to her?’ Shimwell went on.

  ‘Saffie didn’t want to report the rape,’ Jules began. ‘She was afraid you wouldn’t believe her. That you’d want to examine her for proof. We decided we’d honour her request. It seemed better not to upset her any further.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be like that.’ The woman smiled reassuringly. ‘We have a special suite for investigations involving children and sex offences. But at the moment we only want to talk. This isn’t a rape investigation. It’s a missing person enquiry. And we’ll be careful with her – please don’t worry. I’m Detective Constable Maria Shimwell – she can call me Maria.’

  ‘Where did you hear about it? The rape, I mean?’

  ‘The boy – the one who’s gone missing – his mother told us an allegation had been made against him. Didn’t want it made public either. We’re doing our best to keep the media off it.’

  Jules stared at the police officers, taking this in. Holly’s words just a few hours earlier rang in her ears: ‘The police think he may have killed himself in despair at the way everyone misjudged him.’ She should have realized Holly had given the police the full picture. It was understandable, she supposed. Her priority was finding Saul and she would have wanted to provide any information that might help. Being accused of rape might well have given Saul motivation to run away to avoid the consequences.

  ‘I’ll go and get her,’ Jules said to Maria, ‘but please be gentle with her. She’s been through a lot.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Jules went into Saffie’s room. She was reading a book and looked up as Jules pushed open the door.

  ‘Saffie, listen. The police are here . . .’

  ‘What?’ Saffie leaped up from her bed and backed away from Jules. ‘No, Mum . . . no. You promised you wouldn’t tell them. You promised.’

  ‘I didn’t tell them anything Saff. They’re not here about the rape. They’re here because Saul hasn’t been home. They’re trying to find him. They just need some background information.’

  ‘What kind of background information? I don’t know where he’s gone. How am I supposed to help them? Oh, Mum. Please don’t make me speak to them.’

  Saffie began to shake visibly, her teeth chattering.

  ‘If you prefer, I can ask the woman – she’s young; she seems really nice – to speak to you up here? I’ll stay with you. She won’t ask you anything embarrassing or awkward, I promise. If she does, I’ll be here to step in, OK?’

  ‘A woman?’

  ‘Yes. Young. Nice.’

  ‘OK,’ Saffie said after a while. ‘I’ll come down. If you promise to stay with me.’

  Saffie followed Jules silently downstairs and sat without speaking on the edge of the corner sofa.

  Maria squatted down in front of her. Jules couldn’t help thinking that Saffie didn’t look much younger than the strawberry-blonde, pale-faced Maria Shimwell. Saffie’s thighs, Jules noticed, bulged in the tight leggings she was wearing, and her T-shirt strained over her burgeoning chest. Were these physical symptoms of what was going on inside her, that only she, Donna Browne, and now Holly, knew about? It made her want to cry. For the child she still was. For not protecting her.

  ‘You mustn’t be frightened, sweetie,’ Maria said. ‘You are not in trouble. We just need to ask a few questions because a boy who goes to your school has gone missing. We’re asking everyone who knows him, not just you. We’re trying to get a picture of everything up to and including the day he didn’t come home. Do you mind if I call my colleague in? He’s a detective. I can ask him to stay out if you’d rather.’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Saffie said. ‘I would rather he stayed out.’

  ‘But your mother can stay here, if you’d like her to?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m going to ask some questions about a boy called Saul. Saul Seymore. Do you know who I’m talking about?’

  ‘I didn’t want to tell anyone what he did to me, in case this happened,’ Saffie burst out. ‘In case you – the police – got called in. But Mum told his mum. And now I’m in trouble for—’

  ‘Right. You are not in any trouble,’ Maria said. She was far more assertive than her appearance implied. ‘You are not. You are not to worry about that. All we want to know is whether you have any idea where the boy might have gone.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How well do you know him?’

  ‘Quite well. Or at least I did when he was younger.’

  ‘You don’t hang out with him at school? Or at weekends?’

  ‘No way. We don’t talk. I only know him because he’s Mum’s godson. Well, not godson, because she and Holly aren’t really religious. They say “odd son”. But he’s three years above me in school. And everyone thinks . . .’

  ‘Everyone thinks what?’

  ‘Everyone thinks he’s a creep. Because of how he acts.’

  ‘Acts?’

  ‘He kind of prowls around on his own, and sometimes he . . . stares.’

  Jules flinched as she heard Saffie trot out this description of Saul. He stares. How could she have got him so wrong?

  Maria wrote copious notes on her iPad. ‘Anything else?’ she asked.

  ‘And ’cos of the way he dresses and his hair. He’s an emo and . . . well, no one really likes emos at school.’

  ‘And by “emo” you mean . . . ?’

  ‘He’s miserable and moody and silent. He goes about on his own.’

  ‘OK, and can you tell me a little more about your relationship with him?’

  ‘I wasn’t in a relationship with him.’ Saffie shuddered at the suggestion.

  ‘Was he friends with any of your friends?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Do you think he might have been under the impression he was having a relationship with you?’

  ‘I don’t see how. We never talk. We don’t hang out together.’

  ‘But he was in your house last . . . two Fridays ago?’r />
  ‘He came round to use our internet,’ Jules interjected. ‘I feel so bad now . . . trusting him alone in the house with Saff. But he’s my oldest friend’s son, and I know him. Thought I knew him. I mean, I regarded him almost as another child of mine when he was younger. To be honest, it didn’t occur to me there was any reason not to trust him.’

  ‘OK,’ said Maria, turning to Saffie again. ‘So, you mentioned earlier you didn’t want to say what he did to you. What did you mean?’

  Saffie glanced at Jules. Jules gave her a smile of encouragement, communicating that it was fine to tell this police officer what she had told her.

  ‘OK. Well, when I was getting ready for bed, I spotted him looking into my room. I told him to go away. But he didn’t. He . . .’

  ‘He what?’ Maria urged gently.

  ‘He came right in and grabbed me. Then . . . I don’t want to say.’

  ‘If you can, it will be very helpful,’ Maria said, glancing up at Jules.

  ‘OK. He made me have sex with him.’

  ‘He forced you to have sex with him?’

  ‘Yes. I told him to stop, to go away, but he . . .’ Her voice was so faint, the police officer had to lean forward to hear her. ‘He said I was asking for it. Because I’d been undressing – ready for bed. And maybe because I’d forgotten to close my door. He pushed me down on the bed. I couldn’t get him off me.’

  ‘Oh, you poor thing,’ Maria said. ‘It must have been very, very frightening.’

  Saffie nodded. She was pulling at the sleeves of her top, that frantic new mannerism she’d developed since the rape.

  ‘OK.’ Maria made more notes. ‘Not many more questions now. I know this is difficult for you. But do you remember what happened afterwards? Did Saul go home? Did he hang around? Did he seem upset about what he had done to you? Any information is going to help us, Saffron.’

  ‘I . . . I don’t remember.’ For the first time, Saffie sounded a little uncertain. She looked up at Jules again. ‘Mum and Holly came in, I think.’

  ‘Where was he when your mother came in?’ Maria glanced at Jules. She didn’t want Jules to answer for her daughter.

  ‘I think he was . . . I don’t know,’ Saffie said. ‘I expect he was downstairs in the sitting room, as if he hadn’t done anything except watch TV all night.’

  ‘And so what did you do? When your mum came in?’

  ‘I didn’t do anything. I didn’t want to tell my mum. He warned me not to tell. And his mum was with her. And I didn’t think they’d believe me.’

  ‘Did you hear them come in?’

  ‘Of course. I couldn’t sleep after what he did to me.’

  ‘Do you remember what time it was?’

  ‘About eleven, I think. I can’t remember.’

  ‘OK. Thank you, Saffie. You’ve been really helpful and I must reiterate you are not to feel guilty in any way about what’s happened.’

  ‘I just wish nobody else had found out about it,’ Saffie said again. ‘I didn’t want them to. Especially my dad. I knew he’d go crazy.’

  Maria looked at Jules. Then back at Saffie. ‘What do you mean by your dad going crazy?’

  ‘I knew he’d go all overprotective. That’s why he wanted to take me to school in the car the day after he found out. I wouldn’t let him. But he still made me go up to the bus stop with him. It was so embarrassing.’

  ‘And did you tell anyone, apart from your mother, what happened? Do any of your friends know?’

  Saffie shook her head.

  ‘If they find out I’ve been with Saul, they’ll think I’m desperate.’

  ‘OK, listen, Saffie. You’ve done all you can to help us with our enquiries. You’ve been super helpful. You are to let your mum look after you. OK? Now, do you mind if I have a word alone with your mother?’

  Saffie got up and went out of the room without looking back.

  ‘Saffie didn’t tell you that night about what had happened to her?’ Maria asked, looking down at her notes.

  ‘She was asleep when I went up to bed.’

  ‘She says she couldn’t sleep.’

  ‘Maybe she couldn’t, until we came in. Then I made some tea. Oh, and I’ve just remembered – Saul had been upstairs. He was coming down when we came in the door after midnight. He said he’d fallen asleep in one of our spare rooms.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘But it was a while before I went up to bed and Saffie was asleep by then. She said nothing until two weeks later. And then only because her period was late. She was afraid she might be pregnant.’

  Maria raised her eyebrows as if she expected Jules to expand. Jules felt panic rise through her. She hadn’t told Rowan about the test, so would it be right to tell this baby-faced police constable?

  ‘The test was positive,’ she said, eventually. ‘That’s how I know Saffie wasn’t lying about the rape. Not that I thought for a minute she was. Why would she? But she doesn’t want anyone to know she’s pregnant. Please don’t tell her I told you. We’re dealing with it as swiftly and as privately and with as little fuss as we can.’

  Maria was gazing at her. ‘How terrible for you all,’ she said. ‘How very hard for a thirteen-year-old to be dealing with such a thing through no fault of her own.’

  ‘Saffie really didn’t want us to press charges. She wanted the whole thing kept quiet.’

  ‘They so often do,’ Maria said. ‘Poor things. They think it’s their fault. Girls. They think they brought it upon themselves. Or they are afraid no one will believe them. Or they blame themselves for being drunk, or for allowing a boy into their room, or for accepting a lift, or for dressing a certain way. They are, even in this day and age, too quick to take the blame. However often we tell them they weren’t the one to force themselves on someone.’

  Jules stared at Maria Shimwell. She was beginning to like her. For a split second, she thought how Holly would like her too.

  ‘But our brief at the moment is finding the boy,’ Maria said. ‘We’re pretty sure the rape has a bearing on his disappearance.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Guilt? Fear of being found out? Not wanting to be exposed? Fear of humiliation? There are all sorts of possibilities. Whether Saffie wishes to take the rape allegation further will come later – if and when we find him.’

  If? Surely there was no ‘if’ about it. They would find him. When Holly had, only this afternoon, said ‘if’, Jules had brushed it aside. It was a question of when. Wasn’t it?

  ‘Look,’ Maria said, fishing a card out of somewhere. ‘These are the details if your daughter does decide to take the rape further at some point. She might think she’s over what this lad did. If it was him. But sometimes an assault comes back to haunt them later.’

  ‘We aren’t questioning who it was. There’s no one else it could be.’

  ‘Whatever. She would be seen by our Sapphire team at a special unit called the Haven. Nothing to be afraid of – they’re very experienced and extremely sensitive. And you can, of course, be there with her too.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Jules. It felt a huge relief that there might be somewhere else to turn to, at last. If only Saffie would agree to it.

  ‘Just one more thing before I go,’ Shimwell said, looking at her iPad. ‘Saffie said something about knowing your husband would go “crazy” when he heard about the rape.’

  ‘Well, yes. Saffie didn’t want me to tell him. He’s very protective of her. As any father would be of such a young girl. You do know she’s only thirteen?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘But I decided he had to know. I felt he would deal with it better than I could. Saul’s mum’s my oldest friend. I was there at the boy’s birth, for goodness’ sake! I couldn’t bring myself to accuse him face to face. It felt too brutal, I suppose, to turn on a boy I almost delivered into the world. I’d already spoken to Holly, Saul’s mum, but she wouldn’t believe that Saul raped my daughter. So neither of us was doing a thing about him. I knew Rowan would kn
ow what to do.’

  ‘And did he? Know what to do?’

  Jules stared at Maria. So young and slight and yet so sharp. She wasn’t going to miss a trick. Jules couldn’t possibly tell her Rowan’s words when he heard. His I’ll beat the living daylights out of him.

  ‘I don’t think he did know what to do, no,’ Jules said. ‘He was upset, naturally.’

  ‘He didn’t suggest reporting the assault to us?’

  ‘Saffie begged him not to. For the reasons I gave. She was afraid of being examined, of word getting out. Her father doesn’t know she’s pregnant, by the way. We both – Saffie and I – thought that would be too much information for him.’

  ‘And Rowan didn’t take action? He didn’t go to anyone, a teacher, for example?’

  ‘Saffie didn’t want any fuss made about the whole thing. She was quite adamant about that. And we – perhaps mistakenly – felt we should honour her wish. Rowan wanted to drive her to school, though. To protect her from the boy. Saffie was mortified – she thought people would ask what had gone on. But she let her dad take her up to the bus stop on Monday morning.’

  ‘Yesterday?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She made a note.

  ‘Does Saul normally use that bus stop?’

  ‘They all do. It’s on the green. Right across from Saul’s house, in fact.’ Jules felt she was walking into a trap here, but she couldn’t turn back.

  ‘And does he, Saul, get the same bus as Saffie too? Usually?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘But he didn’t yesterday morning,’ Shimwell said. ‘He left the house and didn’t come back. Did you see your husband after he dropped Saffie at the bus stop?’

  Jules knew what the young detective constable was getting at. Rowan wasn’t back when she expected him to be. He should only have been gone about fifteen minutes, and when he hadn’t returned after an hour, Jules had given up on waiting for him and gone to work. She’d met Donna on the way, she remembered. She’d sat in the car asking for her advice. There had been no sign of Rowan.

  ‘Jules?’

  ‘No. I didn’t see him. I had to go to work. I’d left by the time my husband got in.’

  ‘Times? What time did he leave? What time did you leave?’