by Jane Renshaw
And now the door was opening and Danielle’s brother was beaming at his sister, and behind him Caroline was shaking her head apologetically.
No Beckie.
‘Sorry Flora,’ Caroline grimaced through a nervous smile. ‘She still doesn’t want to come. I told her about the Family Hub and the wee garden and everything, I said it didn’t even seem like a prison, but –’
Flora nodded. ‘It’s fine. It’s maybe better she doesn’t come. I –’
‘Coffee, yeah? And a KitKat?’ A smile still fixed to her face, Caroline hooked her bag over the chair opposite Flora’s.
‘Thanks, that would be great.’
‘I’m really sorry, Flora.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I think it might be better to concentrate on persuading her to agree to Skype. Or even just to write to me.’
‘She just needs a bit more time. She’ll come round. She’s just...’
‘She’s confused and angry and scared.’ Flora breathed. ‘Of course she is.’
Watching Caroline making her selections at the drinks vending machine, glancing first one way and then the other over her shoulder, as if expecting to be jumped at any moment, Flora reflected that it was as if they had swapped places. Flora seemed to have acquired all the assurance Caroline had lost. It was obvious that Caroline hated coming here, that it unnerved and disturbed her. And where Flora had lost weight and toned up thanks to hitting the gym for four hours every day, Caroline’s figure had expanded and softened, the fabric of her jeans sausage-tight across her bum and thighs.
The coffee was as terrible as ever. And she found she didn’t even want the KitKat.
‘Are things any better at school?’
‘Not much. She and Edith have fallen out again.’
‘Oh no.’
‘She’s... I think the word is volatile. She’s really volatile. You don’t know what’s going to set her off. The headmistress and the teachers have been great, but...’ She shrugged. ‘And living a few doors down from her old home... It’s not easy for her. What I’m thinking is it might be better if we moved away. There’s this nice wee house in Bearsden for rent... New house, new environment, new school...’
‘Oh, but Glasgow... That’s where the Johnsons live.’
‘I doubt whether the Johnsons ever frequent Bearsden! Practically a different planet from Meadowlands Crescent.’
‘But I can’t ask that of you. To uproot yourself...’
‘Oft, no problem. I can work from anywhere, eh?’
‘But you must let me give you the money for the rent. I’m going to get a bridging loan on the house. I’ve been advised not to sell until... well, until the murder has faded from the collective memory. But... I’m so sorry, this is so disruptive for you. Caroline, I don’t know how to thank you, for everything, for taking such good care of her. Really.’
‘I love the Beckster, you know that. And we still manage to have fun. She’s really into jigsaws now. On Saturday we went into town and she chose three 2000-piece numbers. Kittens, the Taj Mahal and an underwater scene.’
‘And let me guess – you’re doing the kittens first?’
‘Course we are.’ Caroline took a slug of coffee and made a face, looking for a moment like her old self. ‘That is foul. If you’re not going to eat that KitKat...’
Flora pushed it across the table. ‘The good news is that I’m not being charged with Saskia’s murder. The neighbour who buzzed me into the stair apparently went across the landing to Saskia’s door to tell her she had a visitor, and saw her dead on the floor. It took her a while to come forward because she was plucking up courage – frightened of repercussions from whoever was responsible.’
‘Aw, that’s brilliant, Flora!’
‘The bad news is that Ailish has made a statement about the quarrels she overheard between me and Neil.’
‘Bitch.’
‘And not just Ailish. Pippa too – it seems Neil called her a few times to talk about his worries about my “weird behaviour”. And Dr Swain has also made a statement. About my “disturbed” state of mind, when I went for that Darren boy in the waiting room.’
‘Oh Christ. But you thought he was attacking you.’ Caroline snapped the KitKat in half.
‘But he wasn’t. That’s the point.’ She sighed. ‘And there’s just no evidence that the Johnsons were anywhere near the house on the day Alec... And of course that’s a huge problem. I’m sure they changed the duvet cover – when I found Alec, he was lying on a duvet cover with orange flowers on it, and I’m sure I put a different one on that morning – a white one with white embroidery. My solicitor told the police about it, and they’ve tested all the duvet covers they found in the house, but nothing’s been found on any of them. And apparently there wasn’t an embroidered white one among them. The Johnsons must have taken it away and disposed of it.’
‘Aw well – worth a try, though.’ Caroline grimaced. ‘And what about the drug issue? Any further forward on that?’
Methamphetamine had been found in the blood sample taken on her arrest, and she had no clue how it got there, unless the Johnsons had somehow managed to put it in her food – but how could they? Her solicitor Charles Aitcheson was working on the assumption that there had been a mix-up with the samples. ‘The police are insisting the chain of evidence is intact. But I know I never took methamphetamine. I wouldn’t even know how to go about getting hold of it. Charles says it could work in my favour if I said I’d taken it, it could explain my “paranoia”, but why do I need to explain it? The Johnsons were harassing us. That wasn’t just me being paranoid – you were there, that time on the pavement. They’ve got your statement and everything.’
Caroline was munching KitKat, looking down at the silver foil, rubbing it with her finger.
She flicked a look up at Flora. ‘I’m really sorry, but I think I’ve messed up big time as far as that’s concerned... They had me in to give another statement. They’ve got a witness to what happened on the street that day – I’m thinking it could be Ailish. This witness corroborates what the Johnsons are saying, that it was just Jed going a bit mental, that at no time was Beckie threatened, or either of us... And you know how they are, how they ask you the same thing again and again but in a slightly different way, so you have to give a slightly different answer, till you’re not thinking straight? I think... I think I might have given the impression that it was just Jed, and that the two boys were just trying to get him away from you. Sorry, Flora.’
Damn. ‘It’s okay, Caroline, I know how they twist what you say...’
‘Aye, but that’s not all. That’s not the worst of it.’ Her gaze was back on the KitKat foil. ‘They’ve taken a statement from Beckie.’
Flora couldn’t speak.
‘The day before they had me back in... Apparently they asked her what happened before we left the house, and she said she called out “Bye Dad” to Neil without waiting to hear his reply. She’s beating herself up about that, poor wee soul. And she also told the police that I just called “See you Neil” or something, and he didn’t reply to me either. Which contradicted my previous statement – I’d told them that both Beckie and I had said goodbye and he’d replied. So second time round – in the second statement – after what Beckie had said, I had to admit that I didn’t see or hear Neil that morning.’
‘But – that’s wrong.’ Flora could feel her palms moistening. ‘Maybe Beckie didn’t wait for a reply, but you heard him speak to you as we were leaving – Beckie was still in the kitchen, so she couldn’t know how the exchange went, she must be misremembering... We were both in the hall, and Neil called out “Have a good one” or something and you said “You too.” We were both there. You must remember that? And then you went out and I had a conversation with him about...’ She swallowed. ‘About getting ingredients for a trifle.’
‘Oh God. Sorry, Flora, yes, you’re right. I did hear him say that. Oh God, I’ve really fucked up. They were messing with my head, I wasn’t thinking.
.. I’ll go back and make another statement, set the record straight.’
‘Okay. Thanks.’
But it was too late.
The damage had been done.
The prosecution would have a field day with Caroline’s three different versions of events. So now there was no credible witness to Neil still being alive when Flora had left the house.
‘It probably doesn’t matter anyway,’ Flora said. ‘The main problem is the complete lack of evidence against the Johnsons. First and foremost, there was no sign of a break-in to the house, and no one was picked up on the CCTV that day apart from you, me and Beckie. Charles says it’s going to be tough getting round that. There’s also the problem of me disposing of his body – the fact that I did that...’
‘Look, when I make my new statement I’ll tell them I helped you with that –’
‘What would be the use? That would only make it look worse, that I dragged you into the cover-up.’ She sighed. ‘He thinks I did it. I’m sure Charles thinks I’m guilty.’
‘Sack the bugger.’
‘No, it doesn’t matter what he thinks, he’ll do his best for me. He’s good. Better the devil you know...’
‘True enough. Flora, the thing you’ve got to remember through this is – you didn’t do it. You’re innocent. Yeah?’
Flora nodded. ‘So they can’t have enough evidence to convict me. I know. That’s what I keep telling myself.’
I’m on my mobile, walking up the wee cul de sac to the newbuild, giving Ryan hell.
‘Aye, okay so maybe some sweat came off of you and dropped on the duvet cover when you was dumping him on the bed. You needed to get that changed. But giving it to Travis to light? Wouldnae put it past that fuckwit to go Here, that’s barry so it is, four-hundred-thread Egyptian cotton, I’m having that.’
‘No even Travis would be that daft, eh? He swears he got it lit down the back of the Unit with the boiler suit and that. But dinnae you worry, I’m checking his fucking room soon as I’m back. Dinnae you worry, Maw.’
‘How am I no gonnae worry, eh son, with shite-for-brains weans giving me fucking grief twenty-four-seven?’
Now I’m in the door, and I’ve no even got my coat off and here’s Bekki coming down the stair giving it ‘Did she like the card? Did she read my letter?’
I kick off my boots. Hall carpet in the wee newbuild’s dead gorgeous, a wool blend in barley with a pile that thick you could use it as a fucking trampoline. After three fucking hours in they fucking fashion victim boots, my feet think they’ve died and gone to heaven.
‘Sorry sweetheart.’ I open my bag and take out the bits of ripped up green card. And the letter, still sealed in the envelope.
Bekki takes the bits like they’re wee hurt animals, the poor darlin’.
‘Aw, come here Bekki.’ She lets me coorie her but she’s no leaning in. ‘I’m sorry. She says she doesn’t want to see you and she doesn’t want to have any contact with you. It’s not your fault, sweetheart, okay, it’s nothing you’ve done.’
‘But why...’ It’s a wee whisper.
‘What’s that, sweetheart?’ I’m stroking her hair.
‘Why doesn’t she?’
‘Aw Bekki, I don’t know. She’s under a lot of stress at the moment and probably not thinking straight. But I’m here. I’m always going to be here for you.’
‘I want my mum!’ And she’s pushing me away and running back up the stair.
Connor’s coming down and he catches her and goes, ‘Whoa, Bekki, where’s the fire?’ and she’s going, ‘I want my mummm!’ in his face, and he’s ‘Aye, I know, hen,’ and she’s pushing past him.
‘Dinnae you start,’ I go as I puff past him up the stair.
But I’m no feeling great about it neither. It’s a wee shame for Bekki so it is, and if I’m honest, if I’m a hundred percent fucking honest with myself, I’m feeling bad for fucking Flora. Me and that bitch, in another world maybe, in another fucking universe where bairns dinnae get taken off of folk, maybe me and that bitch coulda been pals.
‘What’s up?’ Carly yells from through the house, and then her fucking wean’s bawling.
God’s sakes.
‘See t’your fff... Please see to Willow, Carly!’ I yell back.
If the social worker could see us now, eh?
Had a wee visit from the bint a week past, checking on Beckie Parry’s welfare. Caroline’s decided to move back to where she’s from, Bearsden, because after everything that’s happened both she and Beckie need to get away from Gardens Terrace. Beckie’s attending the local primary. Caroline’s two children have moved back in with her, and they’re one big happy family.
Checks on Caroline all came back fine, thank God – I dinnae know who the real Caroline Turnbull is and where she’s at now, and I dinnae want to know, but looks like Ryan’s contact Skeeter’s done barry getting us a clean identity there.
‘Can I come in, Bekki?’ I goes, and I push open the door to her room.
She’s lying under the Frozen duvet, greeting her wee eyes out, coorying that fucking lemur. I cannae see Shrek. On the windowsill there’s the tank with the wee trees in it Neil had in his study. When I asked her what all she wanted to take with her, that was top of the fucking list.
I sit down on the bed and touch her back.
After a bit I leave her be, and she’s up in that fucking room all afternoon, but then five o’clock comes round and I’ve fired up the fryer and Connor’s got burgers on the go, and here’s Bekki coming in the kitchen giving it ‘I feel sick.’
‘Aw, course you do sweetheart, but don’t you worry, everything’s going to work out fine.’
She’s looking at Connor. He’s got a face on him like he’s chewing a wasp.
‘Isn’t that right, Connor?’ I goes.
‘Aye Maw. Fine and dandy. You want a chicken burger or a hamburger, Bekki?’
‘I don’t want anything, thank you.’
‘Just some chips?’ I goes. ‘Or how about a milk shake? Got to keep your strength up.’
‘Okay.’
‘Banana or strawberry?’
‘Banana please.’
Aye, it’s all please this and thank you that with wee Bekki, the wee darlin’.
And then suddenly it’s coming out her: ‘Will I have to go and live with the Johnsons now that Mum’s in prison?’
I get out the mixer and a pint of milk. ‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, sweetheart. If you want to stay here with us, then that’s what’s happening.’
‘But the Johnsons might try to get me back again.’
I get the nicest banana out the bowl. ‘You don’t need to worry about that, Bekki. The Johnsons aren’t bad people.’
‘They must be, or I wouldn’t have been taken away from them, would I?’
I sit down at the table. ‘Come here, Bekki.’
Bekki takes a seat next me.
‘That was a mistake. Connor son, get the Mair sh... The press coverage of Saskia Mair’s death.’ While Connor’s in the front room I finish making the shake and pour it in a tall glass.
Bekki takes a big swally.
‘Is that nice?’
‘Yes thank you.’
Connor’s back with the Mair shite. ‘Now Bekki,’ I goes, ‘Saskia Mair was the woman who took you from the Johnsons, but the authorities have found out she was lying. The Johnsons never hurt you. See, it says here Saskia Mair admitted to hurting the children so people would think it was their families that did it...’
Bekki’s reading the article on the laptop. ‘One of those children was me?’
‘Yes. The Johnsons never hurt you.’
‘But they’re still horrible! You were there, when they tried to grab me outside your flat!’
‘But they didn’t try to grab you, did they? They were just trying to talk to you, I think. I know I’ve got ninja skills and everything but if they’d really wanted to grab you, how could Flora and I have stopped those big bbb... those bi
g men?’
Bekki frowns. ‘But... that old man was horrible.’
‘Was he? What did he say to you?’
‘He kept saying “Wee Bekki”.’
‘Well, that’s not too horrible, is it?’
‘But he was horrible!’
‘In what way?’
‘He was... dirty. And I think he was drunk.’
‘Oh. Well, maybe he has problems. You know, like Edith’s mum? Medical problems.’
‘Like depression?’
I nod. ‘Yes, maybe depression.’
‘But even if he’s got depression I don’t want to live with the Johnsons! I want to stay with you, and Connor and Carly and Willow, until Mum gets out of prison!’
‘Aw, and we want you to stay with us, more than anything, sweetheart! We’re made up to have you living with us. And you know Flora and Neil made me your guardian in case anything happened to them, so it’s all legal and everything. So don’t you worry, Bekster, you’re staying right here.’
Bekki pokes the straw in the shake. ‘Burgers and chips aren’t good for you.’
‘All right Missie, you can have a nice salad if you want.’
‘I mean for you.’ She gives me a gorgeous wee smile.
‘Oh, here we go Connor, here’s Miss Calorie Conscious on the case again.’
‘Aw Maw, she’s right enough, you’re getting a right lard arse on you. You need to get back on that exercise bike.’
Bekki snickers.
‘Huh! Less of your cheek, my lad!’
‘It’s less of your cheek we’re needing – less of your bum cheek, eh?’ And he’s chuckling away and Bekki’s choking on her shake, and I’m grinning all over my fucking face.
And when she’s off washing her hands before tea I’m like that: ‘No happy? She’s no happy?’
‘Course she’s no fucking happy! You’re living in a fucking dream world if you think she’s fucking happy about any of this! Okay it’s no so bad with just us, but what’s gonnae happen when we’re in Spain and it’s Here wee Bekki, here’s fucking Psycho Granda, and aye Ryan and Travis are fucking mentalists but hey, they’re no worse than that wee shit Corrigan, your wee shit cousin’s gonnae be in your face twenty-four-seven, aye we’re all living under the same roof, whoopy-doo.’