by Helen Line
Richard looked so small and vulnerable propped up in his hospital bed. For a minute he stared at his mother as if he didn’t know her but then she rushed across to hug him and the tears began to flow.
The police divers were out searching for Chris’ car and I knew that the local news would be covering it so I suggested to Janet that she didn’t watch TV in her hotel room that night. But I watched it in mine. It was incredible to think that this had happened to people I had come to know so well and, as I watched the shots of the beach where it had happened, I couldn’t stop my mind from picturing Richard alone on it and frightened.
The drive home was actually more painful than the drive down had been. Richard obviously wanted to talk about what had happened to him but Janet was having none of it. She seemed to suddenly notice the dog smell in the car, it hadn’t seemed to bother her on our journey there but now she was finding it very offensive. I had to remind myself a couple of times that she must be going through hell; her thoughts had been so occupied with her son and now that she knew he was safe was she thinking about her husband? How would you come to terms with all of this? I was sure that she was going to need a lot of help and support over the coming weeks, maybe months. Looking at Richard’s drawn face in my rear view mirror I recognised that he would too.
Pam and I would be there for them, of course, but I suspected that they would need more expert input that either of us could give.
I couldn’t quite believe my eyes when I pulled up outside of their house to see a camera crew and a reporter waiting at the gate. Telling Janet and Richard to stay in the car with their heads lowered I got out and let rip. All of the tension and frustration and sorrow of the last two weeks went their way as I told them exactly what I thought of their invasion of privacy at this time. I’d like to say that they slunk off with their tails between their legs, truth is they just nodded at me and went away.
Rae
Pam and Tom had come to visit bearing a cake tin. Pam had baked the most amazing apple and sultana cake which we tucked into in silence, out of respect for the sheer deliciousness of it. Then we all sat back with contented smiles and glasses of wine, except Tom, of course, who had opted for “a nice cup of tea.”
Pam was filling me in on things at work but being cautious, I knew, not to mention anything that might make me feel guilty about not being there. She was delighted to tell me that, at last, her junior assistant had been appointed, a youngster by the name of Leanne. Pam felt sure she could soon mould her into shape.
It was inevitable that our conversation would come around to the Banks’ situation.
‘Richard seems OK physically,’ Tom said. ‘Mentally is a different thing. Every time the kid tries to talk about what happened his mother stops him, so we don’t really know how he is feeling.’
‘She can’t bear to even think about what he went through,’ Pam said. ‘Let alone hear the details for real.’
‘I think I can understand that,’ Jen said, and I knew she was thinking about how she felt when she heard me give my statement to the police.
I had a burning question for Tom that I thought might cause some tension between us so I tried not to ask it. But then it just popped out of its own accord.
‘Where were the spirits in all of this? If they are real why didn’t they stop Chris doing these things?’
‘They can’t do that. Spirits are not bodyguards or police. They can, and do, give advice as to what they think a person should be doing but they are not magical people; in films maybe, but not in real life. Chris must have been in great mental torment which, in itself, would make it difficult for spirit to reach his mind and make contact anyway.’
‘And Richard? Where was his Solly in all of this?’
Tom sighed and stretched his long legs out in front of him then spent a moment straightening the legs of his jeans before he answered.
‘We have been working for weeks on teaching Richard to distance himself from Solly, for obvious reasons.’
He didn’t look at me when he spoke but I felt a stab of guilt as surely as if he had pointed one of his long fingers in my direction.
‘He was doing really well,’ Tom still did not look at me, he appeared to be fascinated by the curtains hanging at the French window.
‘But, from what you said earlier Tom, it wouldn’t have helped him anyway, even if he could talk to this Tolly, Solly , whatever his name is?’ Bless Jen, there she went again, trying to protect me and ease my guilt.
‘That’s true enough. But he might not have felt so alone.’
‘He wasn’t alone.’ I surprised myself with the way in which I spat the words out into the room.
Then Tom looked at me for the first time and a big smile broke across his round face.
‘No. He wasn’t was he?’
I felt the flush that filled my face and knew I must be going very red.
‘Don’t play games with me Tom. I have no idea what the fuck happened, OK? I just know that Richard and I were together some times.’
‘The good news is that Bailey Brook are keeping his place open until he is well enough to return.’ Pam tried to change the subject cheerfully.
Tom continued to smile at me as if she hadn’t spoken.
‘Given the right conditions minds can communicate. I think you have proved that to yourself recently, am I right?’
I wanted to deny it, I really wanted to knock that smug look off his face, but I couldn’t. Like a sullen child I nodded grudgingly.
‘I rest my case.’ He made a flourishing bow.
I couldn’t let him have the last word.
‘Yes, but neither of us was dead at the time.’
‘Would anyone like another drink?’ Jen asked quickly, rising to her feet and collecting glasses without waiting for an answer.
I suspected that Tom knew he had hit a sore spot, in fact I suspected he deliberately hit my sore spot and then enjoyed watching me suffer.
My mind had been thrown into total confusion over the last couple of days when I tried to make sense of all that had happened. Before he was found I had not allowed myself to think at all about the actual experience of telepathic communication I had had with Richard, focusing only on the information he had given me in order to get to him. But now I had to consider what on earth had happened?
I had been there, it had felt real. I could see, hear and smell things there and, until things from real life started returning bit by bit, it felt natural, not like a dream or anything. Jen had told me that she had been reading CS Lewis to me so I suppose that must have reached my sub-conscious, making me head to Narnia. Thank God she hadn’t decided to read Jaws to me, or Silence of the Lambs.
I could understand all of that, the bit that freaked me out when I thought about it now was that Richard suddenly entered Narnia and we talked. We even rode together through the forest and bathed our feet in the lake. It couldn’t have been a dream because the police found him right where he told me he was. How could I have known that if Richard hadn’t really told me?
But how could Richard have really told me? How could it be possible?
Two minds escaping reality met in the same sub-conscious world and shared the same experiences. Wow.
Would Richard remember? He had seemed as at ease with it as I had been. But then he would, he was used to talking to people who weren’t really there, wasn’t he?
And if I believed and accepted that, did that mean that my Dad really did try to warn me that I was in danger? Or was that a leap too far?
Richard
Mum has been making lots of my favourite food and letting me watch anything I want to on TV. She doesn’t talk a lot but when she does it’s usually about food or TV programmes.
It’s strange without Dad. I keep thinking he will be coming home soon and then I remember. And then I want to cry, but if I cried Mum would get really upset
. So I don’t.
I cry in my bedroom when the lights are out.
It’s like I’ve had two Dads really. A really nice Dad and a monster Dad. And I miss them both. I miss the nice Dad more though. I don’t think Mum misses Dad at all ‘cos she never talks about him or cries or anything. In fact, she doesn’t do anything except look after me and follow me round, everywhere I go.
She says I can still go to my new school but not until I am better, which is strange really, ‘cos I didn’t know I was ill.
I go to my place a lot still but I can’t find the princess anywhere.
I want to tell her that I am OK now and about Dad and everything. But she isn’t there, and neither is the castle or the ponies. It’s just the lake and the trees, like it used to be before the princess came.
Tom
Janet rang me at just before eight o’clock. They had found Chris’ body.
She was frighteningly calm and detached as she asked me about a Spiritualist funeral and all that it entailed. I offered to come around and discuss it face to face but she quickly said ‘No, there’s no need. I’ll be back in touch when I know more from the police.’ And she was gone. I really hadn’t had the chance to give her any information so I guess the funeral enquiry was just an excuse for her to be able to voice the words “Chris’ body.” She certainly wouldn’t have said them to Richard that’s for sure.
I was beginning to get really concerned for the lad; from what I could gather Janet was hardly letting him out of her sight and still not letting him talk about things. And, Richard being Richard, was falling in with her wishes to keep her happy, just as he had done with his father.
That poor kid might has well have been a puppet on strings.
Pam said she would have a go at persuading Janet to ask the GP for some counselling for Richard when she next visited. For some reason I wasn’t holding my breath.
Rae
The gorgeous PC Sam Morgan called round. His face was a massive smile as Jen let him in through the front door.
‘We got him,’ he said proudly as he came into the living room where I was sitting reading.
For a split second I felt panic rise from my gut. I think I had hoped that it was all over now and would just go away.
Jen screamed with delight.
‘He squealed like a little pig. He has confessed to everything and it matches your statement.’
The way Sam was looking at me reminded me of Barney when he thinks he should be given a treat.
The large lump in my throat stopped me from making a sound, I just nodded at him.
‘What happens now?’ Jen asked.
‘He will be kept in secure custody until the court date. There is no way he will get bail.’
The lump got smaller then and I managed to squeak; ‘Thank you.’
‘You may not even have to appear in court, seeing as how he has confessed. They may just record you reading your statement.’
Now the lump went completely.
‘Would you like a coffee?’ I asked him.
Sam shook his head. ‘Gotta get on.’ He said. ‘I just wanted to let you know that you can relax now.’
And I did. The minute he said it I felt my shoulders dip down from the tense position I hadn’t even realised I had been holding them in.
‘Thank you Sam,’ I said again.
All afternoon Jen and I were as high as kites; giggling over everything and nothing, just like we used to be as kids. But then, when she was washing up after dinner Jen became serious.
‘I don’t want to Rae, but I have to think about going back to London.’
‘I know, I’m so grateful for you being here and your work have been amazing about it all.’
I was putting on a brave face, inside I was screaming and kicking like a five year old. I loved having my big sister here with me and I never wanted her to leave.
‘What about Mark? Have you made any decisions?’ I asked.
She shook her head slowly.
‘Jen, don’t break up on my account. What he did was stupid and thoughtless but he couldn’t have known how it was going to work out.’
‘I just don’t know if I can forgive him for all of it, including the prostitute.’
I could tell she had difficulty even saying the word.
‘Well, I guess time will tell on that one. But you know I am here for you.’
We hugged awkwardly, due to the plaster still on my arm, and both shed a few tears. Jen pulled herself together first. ‘Anyway, soon as that plaster comes off you’ll be back at work yourself,’ she said. ‘You’ll be back in the thick of it, telling me stories about those damned naughty kids over the phone, just like nothing’s happened.’
We laughed then but I think we both knew that recent events would mean big changes to both of our lives.
Tom
Pam tried everything she could think of to try to get Janet to help Richard to be able to talk to someone about what he had been through. Without success. It seems that Janet thinks the boy is fine, he is eating and sleeping and doesn’t seem to be upset so why make him go over stuff he needs to forget about?
If only that were true.
With Jen back in London and Rae’s arm still in plaster I had taken to walking Barney when I took Herman out. As we sat drinking tea when I brought him back I told Rae my fears for Richard.
‘They are living a sheltered little life in that house, she won’t let him out of her sight, which is no good for either of them. And they never mention Chris or what happened. He left a will with a local solicitor a few days before he disappeared and he requested me to do his funeral at our church. She won’t even let me talk about that and it needs to happen very soon.’
‘Can you do it without her?’ Rae asked.
‘I dunno but it isn’t right is it? I mean, oh, I don’t really know what I mean, it just feels wrong. In my opinion that boy needs to talk and Janet needs to scream and shout and swear and let it all go. It worries me that Richard spent years doing something that caused him issues in order to make his Dad happy and now he has slipped into keeping his silence in order to please his Mum.’
‘Can’t Richard talk to you?’
‘Chance would be a fine thing, she never leaves his side.’
‘Does he know that I was the princess?’
I shook my head. ‘He hasn’t been able to tell me that there was a princess, I only know that from you.’
And then she said, ‘What about if you tell Janet that I would like to see them both? Ask them to come visit me?’
I stared at her for a minute or two; this was either a totally mad idea or else it was brilliant.
‘Are you sure you want to do that?’
She smiled then. ‘No, not entirely, but I’ll give it a go if you think it will help.’
‘It just might. Rae, it just might.’
Richard
‘Why?’ Mum asks.
Tom shrugs his shoulders, he’s got massive shoulders and when he shrugs them you think his head might completely disappear in the middle of them.
‘Maybe she just wants to go over things about the school and stuff.’
‘He’s not ready to go yet.’
“I am,” I think. Then I decide it’s a good idea to go and see Rae like she had asked, ‘cos maybe she will tell Mum that it’s OK for me to go to school now.
‘Let’s go Mum, I think we should.’
She looks at me for ages and I keep smiling at her and nodding my head until she nods her head and says, ‘O.K.’
I feel happy then but a bit sad ‘cos I know Mum doesn’t really want to go and see Rae, but I really want to go and get back to school.
We go the next day. Tom takes us ‘cos he knows where Rae lives. On the way he tells us that Rae has been in hospital too and that she is much better but she stil
l has a broken arm in plaster. I have never had a broken anything, I would like to have plaster on and get people to write on it, like Kim Warner in year six did last year. Everybody crowded round her in the playground with felt pens and drew things and signed their names and stuff. In the end the plaster was covered in all colours of the rainbow. It was cool.
I had thought that Rae would live in a big posh house but it is little and not posh at all.
Tom takes us in through the back kitchen door so that Rae doesn’t have to get up and try to open the door with one arm. It’s a nice kitchen and there is lots of red stuff in it. Red is my favourite colour. I keep looking at the red shiny kettle, our kettle is plain old white. Barney is lying in his basket. He jumps up when he sees us and goes over to Tom for some fuss. I like Barney, he is a bit like a big teddy bear and when he has finished with Tom he comes and sniffs at me. I give him a big hug and he lets me.
We go through the kitchen into the hall and then Tom goes into the living room where he says Rae is waiting for us. I go next and it’s just as I am going through the door that she says it.
‘Hello, Sir Justaboy.’
Rae
He froze in the doorway, his pale face set almost expressionless in shock.
‘Come on in my little knight.’
I hoped to goodness that I was doing the right thing, it suddenly struck me that I could maybe cause some serious mental harm here, but I had started so I had to see it through now.
He took two very deliberate steps inside the living room which allowed me to see his mother standing behind him.
Understandably she had a very puzzled look on her aged face.
‘What’s going on?’ Her voice sounded nervous.
Out of the corner of my eye I was aware that Tom was slowly shaking his head at her and pursing his lips to indicate that she should be quiet.