by Amanda Wills
‘But the 32-year-old’s story was nothing more than a web of lies, prosecutor Daniel Watkins told Croydon Magistrates’ Court on Thursday.
‘Turner admitted fraud and was given a six month suspended prison sentence. Magistrates also ordered her to pay more than £5,000 in compensation. The money will be returned to everyone who donated to her bogus appeal.
‘The deception began almost a year ago when Turner took the girl, who cannot be named for legal reasons, out of school for a month. Turner claimed the six-year-old was in hospital having aggressive chemotherapy and when she returned to school she had lost all her hair.
‘But the court heard that Turner had shaved the girl’s head to give her story credibility and had pocketed all the cash donated by concerned well-wishers.
‘'It was a particularly cynical scam that took advantage of people’s generosity,' Mr Watkins told the court.’
Poppy paused for breath. Hope had slid down the wall and was sitting on the straw in a ball, her hands covering her ears. Poppy felt anger bubbling inside her.
‘Michelle Turner and Shelley Taylor are the same person, aren't they? And you were that girl, weren’t you Hope? How could you do it to us all? Deep down I’ve known something was wrong for weeks. It just took me a while to realise what it was. I still can’t believe anyone could be so deceitful.’
A tear rolled down Hope’s cheek.
‘It was something Charlie said that made me start to realise what was going on. He said you didn’t look very ill to him. But you’d lost your hair because of the chemo so this cancer business must be true. So why have you still got eyebrows?’
Hope reached up involuntarily and felt one eyebrow with her index finger. Her face filled with horror.
‘Then I remembered the shaving cream and razors in your bathroom cabinet. I don’t think you lost your hair through chemotherapy at all, did you Hope? I’ve been checking, you see. According to the cancer websites you’d have lost your eyebrows, too. And someone’s hair almost always grows back when they’ve finished their chemo, and yours has had plenty of time to grow back. I started thinking your mum might have been shaving your head to make it look as though you were having chemotherapy, but she’s so dense she forgot to shave your eyebrows. I was beginning to wonder if you even had cancer at all.’
Hope lifted her head and tried to speak, but Poppy was on a roll. She was pacing up and down like a detective in a daytime television crime drama. ‘Then Scarlett and I saw your mum with George Blackstone at the Waterby Dog Show. You remember, when we were selling all those biscuits we made to raise money for your fund?’
Hope flinched.
‘Shelley and George were as thick as thieves. Which is pretty apt in the circumstances, I think you’ll agree. They definitely looked far too cosy to be landlord and tenant. So that also got me thinking. And then Tory told me that George Blackstone had a niece who’d moved away from Waterby when she was a child and never came back. But what if she had, thirty years later, and she turned out to be as scheming as her uncle?’
‘Poppy-’ Hope began, her voice a strangulated whisper. But Poppy ignored her.
‘I remembered the envelope addressed to Mrs M. Turner that turned up at your house. I’d assumed it must have been for the old lady who used to live there, but I checked. She was Mrs Deakins. I tried Googling Mrs M. Turner but there were thousands of hits. Then I remembered Shelley can be short for Michelle. So I tapped in Michelle Turner and Croydon and bingo. The top hit was the Croydon News report. And then I knew I was one hundred per cent right.’
The walls of the stable felt as though they were closing in and Poppy reached for Cloud’s solid bulk seeking reassurance, but he turned away from her and headed for his hayrack. She had a horrible feeling she’d gone too far. Hope was sobbing uncontrollably now and Poppy felt something inside her shift. The anger dissipated as quickly as it had come and there was a catch in her voice when she finally spoke again. ‘I thought you were my friend.’
Hope wiped her tear-stained cheeks. ‘You don’t understand,’ she stammered. ‘Mum made me do it. I had no choice.’
‘How do I know you’re telling the truth now when everything else you’ve told me has been a pack of lies?’ Poppy demanded.
‘I wanted to tell you, Poppy, I really did. But Mum said if we got caught she’d be sent to prison and I’d end up in care.’
‘What about your dad?’
‘He left when she was arrested last time. He said he couldn’t put up with her anymore. I begged him to take me with him but he couldn’t. He was living in a bedsit and there wasn’t enough room for me. Then he emigrated to Canada. He promised me that once he was settled I could go and live with him but Mum told me he’d changed his mind once he met Kirstin and didn’t want me. I’ve been so happy here, making friends with you and Scarlett, learning to ride and everything. The last thing I wanted to do was pretend I had cancer again.’
Poppy remembered the conversation she’d overheard in the shop. Perhaps Hope hadn’t wanted to go along with Shelley’s plans. But she still wasn’t satisfied.
‘You could have told me. I would have helped, you know.’
‘I didn’t want to do it, Poppy. You have to believe me. We got chucked out of our flat in Croydon because Mum was behind on the rent. She was always talking about her Uncle George and how he was rolling in money. I heard her on the phone to him one night and the next morning she told me we were moving into one of his farm cottages. I was so happy. I’ve always wanted to live in the country. I thought it might be a fresh start for me and Mum. Then when we arrived she said we needed some cash while she tried to find a job and I’d have to pretend I had cancer again. I pleaded with her not to but she refused to listen.’
Poppy had to admit it made sense. ‘OK, maybe I do believe you. But we have to do something. Your mum can’t go on conning people out of money. We need to report her to the police.’
‘We can’t! She’ll go to prison and I’ll end up in care! She promised she would stop as soon as she reached ten thousand pounds. We were going to go to America and when we came back she was going to let my hair grow back and tell everyone the treatment had worked.’
Hope cradled her head in her hands and rocked on her heels. Poppy knelt down in the straw beside her and put an arm around her shoulder. ‘It’s OK, Hope. We’ll do it together. Your mum won’t be able to force you to do anything ever again.’
‘No Poppy, I won’t.’ She lifted her head and sniffed loudly. ‘I can’t.’
Chapter Thirty
Hope looked Poppy straight in the eye. ‘I’m frightened of her, Poppy. I’m frightened of what she might do if she finds out I’ve told someone again. That’s why I’m not allowed to go to school. I told my teacher last time, you see. I let it slip that my mum shaved my head. School told the police and Mum was arrested. She went absolutely ballistic.’
Poppy remembered the conversation they’d almost had on the Riverdale tor.
‘Has she ever hurt you, Hope?’
‘She sometimes yanks my arm when she loses her temper but it’s only when I’ve done something wrong, dropped something or made a mess, you know?’
Poppy shook her head in disbelief. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the tightrope Hope must walk every day.
‘She’s never actually hit me. And it’s my fault she gets cross.’
‘Normal people don’t behave like that, Hope. No mum should take out their anger on their child, or force them to do something they don’t want to do. I’m sorry but people like your mum never change. How can you be sure that one day she won’t lose her temper and lash out at you?’
Hope had no answer.
‘You can’t let her get away with it. We need to tell the police.’ Poppy thought for a moment. How could she convince Hope to do the right thing?
‘What would your dad tell you to do if he was here?’
Hope sniffed. ‘Go to the police,’ she whispered.
‘Then that’s what we must do. We’ll do it to
gether. It’ll all be OK, you’ll see.’
‘Do you promise?’
Poppy gave her a squeeze. ‘Yes. I promise.’
They heard the back door slam and Charlie’s head appeared over the stable door seconds later.
‘What do you want?’ Poppy sighed.
‘Mum sent me to tell you…hold on, why are Hope’s eyes so red?’
‘Hayfever,’ supplied Poppy, hoping the six-year-old wouldn’t remember it was mid-winter.
‘Oh. It looks like she’s been crying, that’s all. Anyway, Mum says she’s going into town in half an hour so you need to come and get ready.’
Once he’d gone Poppy handed Hope a tissue and she blew her nose noisily.
‘We’ll go to the police station while Caroline’s in the supermarket. We’ll ask to see whoever’s in charge and explain everything. They’ll know what to do,’ said Poppy, more confidently than she felt.
Hope sat silently chewing her nails during the drive to Tavistock. Poppy tried valiantly to keep the conversation going. It was at times like these that you really needed Scarlett’s easy chatter, she thought. Caroline glanced at Hope in the rear-view mirror.
‘Everything OK, sweetheart?’ she asked. Hope, who had been staring at the passing countryside, gave a start.
‘Oh, yes. I’m fine thank you,’ she answered quietly. Caroline seemed satisfied. Poppy fidgeted in her seat and wondered if they should have told Caroline first. But what if her stepmum decided to tackle Shelley herself? Poppy was convinced that Shelley would vanish, taking Hope with her, at the merest hint of trouble. And she had given Hope her word that everything would be alright.
‘I’ll be at least an hour. Shall I meet you back at the car at about four?’ asked Caroline, as they turned into the supermarket car park.
‘Yes. We’re going to go and have a look around the Pannier Market, aren’t we Hope?’ said Poppy. She gave Hope a nudge.
‘What? Oh yes, the Pannier Market,’ she said.
‘And don’t forget –’ Caroline began.
‘Yes, I know Mum. Be careful crossing the roads, stick together and text if we’re running late,’ Poppy finished.
Caroline smiled and disappeared in search of a trolley leaving the two girls in the car park, their faces grave.
‘I know it probably doesn’t feel like it but the sooner we get this over with the better. Come on, let’s go,’ said Poppy and she started marching towards the police station, Hope following reluctantly behind.
They hadn’t expected to queue but when they pushed open the heavy door an elderly man in a tweed jacket was leaning against the counter in the small reception area. He was talking loudly to a female police officer. Poppy could see a hearing aid in his right ear.
‘So when did you last see your wallet, Mr Bristow?’ asked the PC, enunciating carefully.
The old man spluttered, ‘If I knew that I wouldn’t be here, would I? It’s lost, that’s the point. Has anyone handed it in?’
The PC glanced up at the newcomers and flashed them a smile. She looked kind and capable. Suddenly Poppy knew it was going to be OK. She and Hope stood patiently while the PC took down the pensioner’s details and Poppy opened the door for him as he left. He gave her a curt nod and was gone.
‘Mr Bristow loses his wallet at least once a month but it always turns up, usually in the most unexpected places. Last time he found it in his potting shed. The time before that it was in his freezer,’ said the PC. She looked at Poppy closely. ‘I know you, don’t I? You’re the girl from Waterby who got lost on the moor. Poppy something. McKendrick, wasn’t it?’
‘McKeever,’ said Poppy. ‘That’s right. I was looking for my brother Charlie.’
The PC looked pleased with herself. ‘I never forget a face. I was with your mum at the hospital while the search and rescue teams were looking for you. She was so relieved when they found you both. I’m PC Claire Bodiam. What can I do for you two?’
Poppy looked at Hope’s pale face and took a deep breath. ‘Is there somewhere we can talk in private? We want to report a crime.’
PC Bodiam led them into an interview room behind the front counter.
‘I want you to take your time and tell me what’s happened,’ she said, sitting down opposite them, her pocket notebook open. She listened silently as Poppy began talking. When Poppy produced the newspaper printout from her pocket she held up her hand.
‘I think my guvnor needs to hear this. He’s in a meeting upstairs. I’ll see if I can interrupt it.’ As she left the room Poppy noticed Hope was on the verge of tears.
‘I don’t think I can do this. Mum’ll never forgive me, I know she won’t.’
‘It’ll be alright,’ soothed Poppy. ‘I trust PC Bodiam. She’ll know what to do for the best.’
When the PC returned she was with an older police officer who introduced himself as Inspector Bill Pearson. His ruddy face was cheerful and his shirt strained over his large stomach. He looked more like a farmer than a police inspector, thought Poppy.
‘Right, what about a cup of tea before we start,’ he said. ‘There’s a new packet of biscuits in the rest room. Bring them down won’t you, Claire?’ He patted his belly. ‘I really shouldn’t but I can’t resist a couple of digestives with my tea. My wife keeps trying to put me on a diet but I think it’s a bit late for all that, don’t you? Now what’s all this about the Hope for Hope Appeal?’
Half an hour later Poppy had explained everything. Inspector Pearson had listened intently and PC Bodiam had taken copious notes.
‘So when is your mum due home?’ the inspector asked Hope.
‘About six o’clock I think. Caroline – that’s Poppy’s stepmum – was going to drop me back after tea at about half past.’
‘Now Hope, I want to assure you that you aren’t in any trouble. You’ve done absolutely the right thing coming here to tell us what’s happened and I don’t want you to be in any doubt about that,’ said Inspector Pearson, helping himself to his third digestive.
‘What will happen to my mum?’
‘You leave that to us. Do you have any other family apart from your mum who could look after you for a short while?’
‘There’s Great Uncle George, but please don’t make me stay there. My dad lives in Canada. I’ve got his mobile number if you want it.’
PC Bodiam nodded. ‘Yes, let me have the number and I’ll contact him now.’
‘Hope can stay with us while everything’s sorted out,’ said Poppy. She looked at the clock over the door. It was five to four. ‘We’re supposed to be meeting my stepmum at the supermarket at four. I’d better text her to let her know where we are.’
Poppy tapped out a quick message. We’re at the police station. Can you meet us there? NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT! Xxx
Caroline arrived less than five minutes later, bursting through the front door, her face anxious. Her expression turned from disbelief to indignation as Inspector Pearson filled her in on Shelley’s exploits.
‘To think I convinced Tory to give £500 to the appeal! I can’t believe I was so naïve,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry, you’re not the only one. Hundreds of others have been taken in. Unfortunately individuals like Ms Taylor rely on people’s generosity for their scams to work. She isn’t the first person to take good, honest people for a ride, and I’m afraid she won’t be the last,’ the inspector told her.
Hope hugged herself tightly, her head bowed, as she listened to the exchange. Caroline lifted her chin gently. ‘You poor love. No-one’s going to blame you. And you can stay with us for as long as you need to.’ She was rewarded with a weak smile.
Inspector Pearson stood up, signalling that the interview was over. ‘There are things I need to be seeing to. PC Bodiam will see you out. And keep Mrs McKeever informed of events, won’t you, Claire?’
‘Yes, boss.’
Chapter Thirty-One
After that things happened quickly. Inspector Pearson briefed a small team of detectives who spoke
to their counterparts in Croydon. They confirmed that Shelley Taylor and Michelle Turner were indeed one and the same. The Hope for Hope Appeal bank account was frozen and an arrest warrant issued. When Shelley arrived at Flint Cottage just before six o’clock, clutching several designer carrier bags, she was greeted by two detectives, who drove her to Plymouth for questioning. PC Bodiam called Riverdale just after eight to say Shelley was being held in custody overnight and was due to appear before magistrates in the morning charged with fraud offences.
‘She’s made a full and frank admission,’ PC Bodiam told Caroline. ‘Maybe she’s seen the error of her ways, maybe she’s hoping the magistrates will be lenient if she pleads guilty at the first opportunity, who knows? She’s a slippery customer. But she’s almost certainly going to get a prison term because of her previous conviction. I’d say she was looking at three years inside, minimum. And can you let Hope know that I’ve spoken to her dad? He’s catching the first available flight out of Toronto and is hoping to be in the country by tomorrow evening.’
‘That’s fantastic news, I’ll let her know. Will Hope have to give evidence in court?’ asked Caroline.
‘I would imagine the court would be happy with a written statement from her, especially as Shelley is pleading guilty. And Hope’s anonymity will be protected because she’s a minor.’
Caroline ended the call and updated Poppy and Hope. Hope had discarded her wig and she looked younger than ever. Her eyes shone when she heard that her dad was on his way.
‘See?’ Poppy said. ‘I told you everything would be OK.’
While Caroline made up the camp bed in Poppy’s room and found Hope some of her old pyjamas, Poppy slipped out of the back door to see Cloud. She had the sense that he’d understood exactly what was going on in the stable that afternoon and hadn’t approved of the way Poppy had tackled Hope. He was lying down in the straw, his legs tucked under him, his eyelids heavy. Chester was rootling around by their buckets hunting for any stray pony nuts. Poppy sat down and draped her arm around Cloud’s neck.