Afraid

by Mandasue Heller

  When Val pulled onto the drive of a large detached house, a middle-aged couple came out onto the step. Skye cast a hooded glance at them from beneath her lashes and hated them on sight. Some lads she knew from school had spent time in care, and they had all said the same thing: that foster-parents were evil bastards who acted nice in front of social workers but turned nasty as soon as they were gone.

  The woman of the couple came over to the car and opened the back door for Skye as Val climbed out from behind the wheel.

  ‘Hello, love, I’m Marie. You must be Skye?’

  ‘She’s exhausted,’ Val explained when Skye climbed out sulkily without answering. ‘Shall we go inside?’

  ‘Of course.’ Marie waved for Val to go ahead, and then placed a hand on Skye’s back to guide her in.

  Skye recoiled from her touch and stumbled over the step, desperate to get away from her. Marie had a soft voice and smelled of washing powder and perfume – like Hayley’s mum. The reminder of home had brought a lump to Skye’s throat, and she swallowed hard to clear it.

  The house had looked like a mansion to Skye from the outside, but it was surprisingly cosy on the inside. The carpets felt thick and plush underfoot, and the couches in the spacious living room were big and comfortable-looking. The walls were lined with pictures of smiling children, and she guessed they must be foster-kids who had stayed here, because there were far too many for them to be the couple’s own.

  ‘Sit down while I have a quick word with Marie and Dennis,’ Val said, gesturing towards the couches. ‘We won’t be long.’

  Skye did as she’d been told and watched, resentfully, as the adults moved to the other end of the room and sat around a dining table. Unable to hear what they were saying, she angrily ground her teeth together. They didn’t even know her, so how dare they talk about her as if they knew what was best for her.

  After briefing the couple, Val came back to Skye. ‘Right, I’m going to leave you to settle in,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a few meetings in the morning, but I should be free by lunchtime, so I’ll come back as soon as I’m done. Anything you’d like to ask before I go?’

  When Skye carried on glaring down at the floor, Val sighed and glanced at her watch. This call-out had dragged on for far longer than she’d anticipated, and she desperately wanted to go home to her own children.

  As his wife went to show the social worker out, Dennis Vaughn strolled over to Skye and smiled down at her. ‘Val says you haven’t eaten yet, so how about I whip up some of my world-famous cheese on toast?’

  Skye folded her arms over her stomach when it growled. She was starving and would have loved some cheese on toast, but there was no way she was taking anything from this stranger.

  ‘You’re probably too tired to eat,’ Dennis said understandingly. ‘Come on; I’ll show you to your room.’

  He walked towards the door and paused there, waiting for Skye to follow. When she didn’t, he said, ‘I know this must be tough, and you’re probably dying to go home, but everything will look brighter in the morning – I promise. And anything you want while you’re here, you only have to ask. Okay?’

  Marie came back just then. When she saw how miserable Skye looked, she touched Dennis’s arm and whispered, ‘Go on up; I’ll see to her.’

  When he’d gone, she went over to Skye and held out her hand. ‘Come on, love, you can’t sit here all night. Let’s get you up to bed.’

  Her voice was so soft and kind that Skye had to bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from bursting into tears. The events of the day were really starting to take their toll on her and, as much as she didn’t want to be here, she was too tired to resist the lure of bed.

  But she wasn’t about to let them think they had won. So, maintaining the frosty expression, she ignored Marie’s hand and stood up on her own.

  Jeff Benson was struggling. The anaesthetic from his operation was wearing off fast, and he had a banging headache, while his body felt as if it had been trampled by a herd of elephants. The doctor who’d been to check on him a short time ago had told him he was lucky the knife hadn’t gone in a couple of millimetres deeper or he’d have been buggered. As it was, he had a nasty wound that would take a while to fully heal, and he’d be on antibiotics for some time to come in order to ward off infection. Yet, for the life of him, he still couldn’t remember what had happened.

  Snapped from his muddled thoughts by the muffled sound of his mobile phone ringing, Jeff looked around and located it as coming from the pocket of his jacket draped over the back of the visitors’ chair. Conscious of the other patients who were sleeping around the dimly lit ward, he gingerly rolled over and tugged the chair closer to the bed. Queasy at the sight of the dried blood and the jagged tear where the knife had entered, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and pushed the jacket aside.

  ‘Where are you?’ The voice shot down his ear when he answered. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours.’

  ‘I’m in hospital,’ Jeff said quietly, pressing the palm of his hand against his throbbing forehead.

  ‘Oh, God, are you okay? I’ve been hearing all sorts, but I didn’t know what to believe. Is it true you were stabbed?’

  ‘Yeah, but I can’t really talk right now,’ Jeff muttered, desperate to get off the phone before his head exploded. ‘Let me call you in the morning.’

  ‘Okay. But are you all right? Is there anything you need?’

  ‘No, I’m fine, but I’ve got to go. Speak tomorrow, yeah?’

  Jeff cut the call and switched the phone off in case it rang again. His memory was starting to come back, and he closed his eyes as he recalled the argument he’d had with Andrea last night. It had been a nasty one, and he’d come really close to retaliating when she’d started throwing stuff at him. But he’d kept his cool and walked out, sure that she would have calmed down by the time he got home from work this afternoon. Unfortunately, she hadn’t, and here he was.

  A soft touch on his shoulder made him jump, and he squinted up at the nurse who was standing over him.

  ‘Just checking you’re awake,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Yeah, but I wish I wasn’t,’ he moaned. ‘The doc said he was going to give me something for the pain, but he must have forgot. Don’t suppose you could chase it up for me, could you?’

  ‘I’ll check his notes and see what I can do,’ she promised. Then: ‘The police have been waiting to talk to you. Are you up to it, or shall I ask them to come back tomorrow?’

  Jeff swallowed deeply and shook his head. ‘No, you can send them in. But don’t forget the tablets, will you?’

  ‘I’ll try not to.’ The nurse smiled.

  Jeff groaned when two police officers walked up to his bed a couple of minutes later. He’d never met the first one before, but the second, PC Andy Jones, had attended several domestics at his place in the past, and he was one of the cuff-happiest coppers Jeff had ever come across.

  ‘Well, this is a turn-up.’ Jones peered down at him with a hint of a smirk on his lips. ‘I always knew one of you would end up in hospital, but I never guessed it’d be her putting you here.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Jeff stared coldly back at him.

  ‘Oh, here we go,’ Jones drawled. ‘Jackanory time.’

  ‘I’m PC Dean,’ the second officer introduced himself as he pulled a chair up to the bed. ‘We’d like to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay?’

  ‘Whatever,’ Jeff muttered.

  ‘Can you start by telling us what happened this afternoon?’

  ‘And don’t bother telling us it wasn’t her,’ Jones chipped in. ‘She’s already confessed.’

  Dean shot a hooded look at his colleague, and said, ‘We just need to hear your account of what happened, sir – in your own words.’

  Jeff’s mind whirred. It was a shock to hear that Andrea had confessed, but if Jones thought that Jeff was about to grass her up then the bastard was in for a long wait.

  ‘My wife’s il
l,’ he said.

  ‘Are you saying that’s why she did it?’ Dean asked.

  ‘No, I’m saying that’ll be why she’s confessed. That’s if he’s telling the truth and she has.’ Jeff cast a scathing glance at Jones. ‘Wouldn’t put it past him to have beaten it out of her, knowing him. If he thinks you’re guilty, he’ll do anything to make it stick so he can up his arrest rate, him. Hasn’t worked out too well so far, though, has it?’ He directed this at Jones. ‘Still only a plod, after all this time.’

  Unfazed, Jones’s smirk widened. ‘I’m fine where I am, mate; gives me a chance to keep the druggies and dealers in line. And the wife-beaters,’ he added pointedly.

  ‘Okay, let’s just get back to this, shall we?’ Dean cut in. ‘Are you saying that your wife didn’t stab you, Mr Benson?’

  ‘Course she didn’t,’ Jeff lied. ‘She wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

  ‘Whatever!’ Jones scoffed.

  ‘Then can you explain why she would say that she did?’ Dean persisted.

  ‘The only reason I can think of is if he was the one who questioned her,’ said Jeff. ‘’Cos if he did, he’ll have put the fear of God into her.’

  ‘And why would I do that?’ Jones drawled.

  ‘Because you get off on it,’ Jeff shot back. ‘I’ve been on the receiving end, don’t forget; I know how you operate.’

  No longer in the mood for playing games, Jones dropped the smirk and looked Jeff square in the eye. ‘Look, Benson, we haven’t got time for this, so quit the bullshit and let’s get real, eh? We know she did it. She’s admitted it, and she still had the knife in her hand when we got there.’

  ‘So why are you bothering to question me?’ Jeff challenged him. ‘Why haven’t you charged her already if you’re so sure she did it?’

  ‘It doesn’t work like that,’ Dean interjected. ‘There has to be proof; preferably a witness statement. Your daughter was the one who found you and called us, but she arrived home after the incident, so that’s why we need your account.’

  ‘Okay, fine,’ said Jeff, thinking on his feet. ‘I got jumped in the alley on my way home from work. I heard them running up behind me, but they got me before I could turn round, so I didn’t see who it was. I just know it was a bloke. Maybe more than one, I’m not sure.’ He shrugged.

  ‘What a crock!’ Jones sneered.

  ‘It’s the truth,’ Jeff said evenly. ‘And I don’t give a toss if you believe it; that’s what happened.’

  ‘So, let’s get this right,’ said Jones. ‘You were coming home from work, and someone jumped you and stabbed you. But they didn’t take your wallet, or your phone?’ His gaze flicked to the mobile that Jeff had placed on the bedside cabinet. ‘They just stabbed you for the hell of it, then legged it. And you somehow managed to drag yourself into the house, without losing a single drop of blood along the way?’

  ‘I guess so.’ Jeff held his gaze.

  ‘So how come there’s a shitload of blood on the carpet in your place?’ Jones demanded. ‘And how come your missus was covered in it, and she was still holding the knife?’

  ‘She must have pulled it out of my back when I went in, then freaked out when she saw the blood,’ Jeff lied. ‘Like I just told your mate, she’s ill, and something like that would tip her over the edge.’ He turned back to Dean now, and said, ‘I hope she’s getting help and you haven’t just chucked her in a cell, ’cos that’d kill her. She needs her tablets.’

  ‘She was being assessed by the on-call doctor when we left the station,’ Dean assured him. Then, rising to his feet, he put his notepad back in his pocket. ‘I think we’ll leave it at that for tonight, sir. We’ll need to speak to you again at some point, but if there’s anything you want to tell us in the meantime, just give us a call.’

  Jeff nodded. ‘Thanks, lad; will do.’

  Jones stood up and peered down at Jeff with unconcealed disgust. ‘You’re an idiot,’ he said bluntly. ‘She nearly killed you, and if you let her get away with it, what’s to stop her from finishing the job next time you have a scrap?’

  ‘I’ve already told you it wasn’t her,’ Jeff replied coolly.

  ‘And we both know you’re lying,’ spat Jones. ‘What about that kid of yours?’ he said then. ‘How do you think she must have felt finding you like that? The poor girl’s so traumatised she hasn’t spoken to anyone since we picked her up. And what if it’s her who cops for it next time? You thought about that?’

  Teeth tightly gritted, Jeff said, ‘Andrea would never hurt Skye. Just like she didn’t do this to me.’

  Furious, Jones brought his face down close to Jeff’s and hissed, ‘You and your missus can carry on kicking the shit out of each other until one of you ends up in the morgue, for all I care. But if anything happens to that girl because you’ve let her mam get away with this, I’ll be blaming you. Are we clear on that?’

  ‘He’s threatening me,’ Jeff said loudly to Dean.

  ‘Andy, leave it,’ Dean ordered, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. ‘Let’s go.’

  Jones backed away from the bed, but he flashed Jeff one last look of disgust before following Dean off the ward.

  Jeff flopped back against the pillow when they had gone and closed his eyes. Jones was a cunt, and Jeff hated him with a passion, but he couldn’t deny what the man had said. Andrea had almost done for him this time, and there was no telling what might happen if they got into that same situation again and Skye happened to get in the way. His wife was manageable when she took her medication, but she couldn’t be trusted to take it as regularly as she was supposed to – and Jeff didn’t always see the warning signs before she flipped. And she must have flipped big time to have stuck that knife in his back.

  He still couldn’t let her go down for it, though. She needed help, not punishment. And he was as guilty as she was, in some respects, because he should never have argued with her when he knew she was on the edge. It was just so damn hard not to retaliate when she got in his face. She had a way of getting under his skin like nobody else ever had, and he wasn’t saint enough to back down when she provoked him.

  Still, the police couldn’t charge Andrea if he stuck to his story about being jumped in the alley. Jones didn’t believe him, but that was his problem. And Skye couldn’t drop them in it, because she hadn’t seen anything, so Andrea was in the clear.

  But this was the last time Jeff was bailing her out. When she came home, she was going to stay on her tablets no matter what. And the first time she missed one, he was out of there – for good, this time.

  4

  Skye had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. When she woke the next morning, she momentarily forgot what had happened and stretched her arms above her head. But, when she heard the chimes of a doorbell in the hallway below, her eyes popped open and she sat bolt upright and gazed around the unfamiliar room in confusion. A tap at the door a few seconds later, followed by the sight of Marie Vaughn’s smiling face, brought everything back in an unwelcome flash.

  ‘Morning, love,’ Marie said cheerily. ‘Val had a cancellation, so she managed to get here a bit earlier than planned. I washed your things after you fell asleep.’ She nodded towards a wicker chair in the corner of the room, upon which, Skye saw from the corner of her eye, her clothes were neatly folded. ‘Why don’t you go and have a wash, then get dressed and join us in the kitchen? The bathroom is two doors down. I’ve left a new toothbrush on the sink, and a fresh towel on the rail. Okay?’

  Skye didn’t answer, so Marie took the hint and retreated from the room. As soon as the door was closed, she jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed.

  Val and Marie were talking quietly over a cup of tea at the kitchen table when Skye went downstairs. Dennis was nowhere in sight, but she could hear him moving around in the room above and guessed that he must have decided to leave the women to it.

  ‘Morning.’ Val smiled and gestured for her to take a seat. ‘How are you feeling today?’

  ‘All
right,’ Skye muttered, breaking her pledge not to speak to any of them in her desperation to know if there was any news about her dad. ‘Have you heard from the hospital yet?’

  ‘Yes, and you’ll be pleased to know that your father’s operation went very well.’

  ‘Does that mean I can go home now?’

  ‘Not just yet.’

  Skye’s heart had leapt at the news that her dad was okay, but it plummeted now and tears of despair sprang into her eyes. ‘Why not? I don’t want to stay here again.’

  ‘You won’t have to,’ Val told her. ‘This was an emergency placement, so I’ve made arrangements for you to go to a nice children’s home until we can find somewhere more permanent.’

  ‘No.’ Skye shook her head. ‘I want to go home.’

  ‘I’m afraid that’s not an option,’ said Val. ‘We’ve no idea how long your dad will be in hospital, and your mum’s clearly not well enough to look after you.’

  ‘She’ll be okay if she gets back on her tablets,’ Skye insisted. ‘She always gets better really fast when they kick in. Anyway, I’m nearly fifteen; I can look after myself.’

  ‘No, you can’t,’ Val said firmly. Then, sighing softly, she said, ‘Look, I know this isn’t what you hoped to hear, but this isn’t the first time concerns have been raised about your welfare, and we have a duty to protect you.’

  ‘I don’t need protecting.’

  ‘You may not think so, but we do.’

  ‘You don’t even know me.’ Skye glowered.

  ‘We’ve known of you for a while,’ Val said. ‘And we’ve spoken with your parents several times in the past. Unfortunately,’ she went on, trying not to make it sound as if she were criticising the Bensons when, in truth, the couple had done everything in their power to prevent Social Services from gaining entry to their home, ‘we weren’t able to establish a true picture of the situation on those occasions, so we couldn’t make an accurate assessment of your needs. But after what happened last night, it’s clear that you’re at risk, and we’re—’