I shake my head. “No thanks,” I say. I just want to sleep and escape reality for a few hours.
Officer Murphy appears in the doorway. “Sorry, Edie, but we need to make our way back to the station.”
“Thanks for everything,” I say.
“My pleasure. I wish things could’ve worked out differently for you. Here’s my card,” he says. “Don’t hesitate if you need anything.”
“Okay,” I say. He gives me a little half-wave, turns, and is gone.
I’m overwhelmed by the kindness that so many people — virtual strangers — are showing me. I have no idea what my future might hold now. Maybe Aunt Siobhan won’t even want me. After all, as far as I know, she’s single and quite a few years younger than Mom. I’m sure suddenly having to take care of a teenager isn’t number one on her wish list.
“There are pajamas and toiletries in the top drawer of the dresser for you,” Jenny says, interrupting my thoughts. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
“Thanks,” I say.
Jenny smiles warmly. “You’re most welcome. Good night, Edie.” She looks at Bedlam, who is kicking at one of the stuffed animals on the bed. “Be good, Bedlam,” she says, wagging a finger in his direction. “Just toss him out in the hallway if he bothers you,” she adds, closing the door behind as she leaves.
I wake the next morning to the sound of knocking at the bedroom door. Bright sunshine streams into the room through translucent white curtains. I lift my head from the pillow and glance over at the alarm clock on the dresser. It’s already eleven o’clock! I’ve slept for ages.
“Come in,” I mumble. I notice the door is slightly ajar and that Bedlam is nowhere in sight.
Jenny peers cautiously into the room. “Good morning, Edie,” she says brightly. “I suspected you might want a bit of a lie-in so we didn’t wake you, but there is someone here to see you.”
I open my mouth to protest. After all, I’m sitting here, hair a mess, teeth unbrushed, wearing some crazy striped flannel pajama set.
But before I have the chance to say anything, Jenny steps aside and another woman walks cautiously into the room. She gives me a nervous smile.
Aunt Siobhan! Though it’s been years since I’ve seen her, she looks nearly the same, aside from her face being thinner than I remember. Same auburn hair, same lopsided smile. She’s wearing a simple green shift dressed paired with black motorcycle boots.
“Edie,” she says. “Do you remember me? You were so young last time I saw you.” Her voice cracks with emotion.
I remember. It was right before everything happened. Siobhan had come to visit us in Toronto. We’d gone all over the city and the entire time Dad was on his best behaviour. He could be so charming when he needed to be.
“Of course,” I say. My heart aches. I can see Mom in her eyes, in the way she walks.
She rushes over, sits down, and scoops me up in her arms. I crumple against her. “I’m so sorry all of this has happened to you.”
“It’s okay,” I say just before I burst into tears.
She holds me for a couple of minutes while I sob like a baby.
“What’s going to happen?” I ask when I’m finally able to regain composure.
Siobhan lets go of me and takes a deep breath. Her eyes are red and swollen as well. Clearly she’s done her own share of crying recently.
“We’re going to go by the flat and get some of your belongings,” she says. “Edie, the police are there at the moment, so we really need to go as soon as possible.”
“Why are they there? What’s going to happen to Mom’s stuff?”
Siobhan pauses. “The flat is being treated as a crime scene. It seems that some of your neighbours saw Sydney — your mum — struggling with a man a few days ago. The police said they sent people around to try to locate you.”
So that’s why the community officers were at the flat. If only I hadn’t run. Maybe I could’ve helped them find Mom.
“I’ve rented us a hotel room not far from here,” Siobhan continues. “The police are going to need you to give some statements.”
I play with the edge of the bedcover. “Why do they need to talk to me?”
“Your dad came forward to the police today. Apparently the newscast with you and Jermaine compelled him. He’s saying that he and your mom were just going to talk, to put closure to things and that she became irate and tried to attack him and, that in defending himself, there was an accident … and she hit her head.” She stops and bites her bottom lip nervously. “He took her to his hotel room instead of the hospital. She was unconscious and he was scared. Or so he says. The cause of death was internal brain bleeding. She never woke up, Edie.”
The bedcover is fraying. It’s coming apart. I continue picking at the threads with my fingers. The world is white noise and I am suddenly very small.
“I wish Sydney had never met him! I’m sorry for saying that, Edie, because you wouldn’t be here. It’s just she’d still be alive and I would’ve been able to spend so much more time these past few years with her. She always worried this would happen and that you’d be left alone.” Her face twists with pain and sorrow. “She told me everything in her letters. It’s all documented and I kept every last one.” She begins to tremble and tears slip down her cheeks. “And here I’m supposed to be strong for you.”
She hugs me close to her again but I’m numb. All I wanted was the truth but I hadn’t really believed I would lose Mom. He found us and I hadn’t been able to protect her. We’d come all this way for nothing.
CHAPTER 31
The Gilmores are giving us a ride to the hotel. Even though they offered to have Aunt Siobhan and me stay a few more nights, I think they’re secretly happy to see us go. I don’t blame them. Mom’s death is making the news already. I found this out by accident when I turned on the television this morning while getting dressed.
I can tell Jenny and Bill feel really bad for me. They were both really quiet this morning and kept giving me these sympathetic, sad looks. And they made me pack all the toiletries like the toothbrush, the housecoat, and even the pajamas I used last night, even though Siobhan insisted she’d buy me stuff later today.
I stare out the car window as we drive down Greenwich High Street. The houses and shops move past in a blur. We stop at a red light. I watch a group of students in their navy blue blazers and matching skirts gather outside a newsagent’s. They’re laughing and talking and sharing a cigarette. It suddenly hits me that it’s Monday. Everyone will be at school — except me.
But everyone will be talking about me. And what Jermaine did saving that little boy. I wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he thinking about me?
Bill turns left into a side street and pulls into a small parking lot.
“Don’t worry, Edie,” he says. “You’re not staying at the Café Rouge.”
I stare at him. What’s he talking about?
Bill hooks points at the building in front of us. A large red sign looms above it. The gold lettering on the sign reads Café Rouge.
I try to smile at Bill to let him know I get his joke now, but the corners of my mouth don’t move. Like every other part of my body, including my heart, they feel numb.
“I don’t know how to thank you enough,” Sioibhan says. “Both of you have been so good to Edie.”
“Please,” Jenny says, her eyes brimming with tears. “There’s no need to thank us. Ring if you need anything at all. Anything.” She glances at me, her eyes full of concern. “The next while is going to be so difficult …”
We get out and Bill takes my tiny bag and Siobhan’s two suitcases out of the trunk of the car. He sets them on the ground and shakes Siobhan’s hand. Then he comes over to me and gently places his hand on my shoulder.
“You’ll be in our thoughts,” he says, pressing something into my hand. I look down. A crumpled twenty-pound note sits in the palm of my hand.
I wonder what it’s like for Jenny and Bill to not have any children of their ow
n, yet to always be saying goodbye to kids like me that they open their home and their hearts to. They should have kids; they’d be awesome parents and their kids would be so lucky.
I nod at Bill. I feel like I’m acting in a movie, like all of this is make-believe.
Siobhan and I watch as the Gilmores’ red Ford Focus pulls away before turning to head into the hotel.
“Do you want your own room?” Siobhan asks as we approach the desk. “They’re quite tiny here.”
I shake my head. “No,” I say.
“It’s okay, Edie. Money’s not an issue.”
I don’t want my own room. The thought of being alone, of not knowing where Siobhan is or if she’s safe makes my heart begin to hammer in my chest and my palms get damp with sweat. I feel like I might faint.
“Please,” I say. My voice sounds far away. “I don’t want to sleep in a room alone.”
Siobhan lets go of her suitcases and wraps her arms around me. “Oh god! I didn’t even think that you might feel that way,” she says. “I’m so sorry. Of course we can share a room.”
She’s right. The hotel room is closet-like, but I don’t care. Not knowing where Aunt Siobhan is would drive me over the edge right now. What if Dad’s been released by the police and decides to try and find me? What if he hurts Siobhan like he hurt Mom?
Part of me wants to believe that Dad was just trying to talk to Mom. That maybe he was going to apologize, to explain that he’s changed and wanted us back. Except down deep I know that isn’t true; Mom wouldn’t have fought without a reason. She was strong but gentle. If she fought at all, it was in self-defence.
I unpack the few things I have while Siobhan takes a shower then lie down on the bed and flip through some channels on the TV.
I watch a few minutes of Big Brother without really caring what’s happening. When Siobhan comes out, she sits down in her fluffy white hotel bathrobe beside me on the bed. She smells of grapefruit and soap. With her hair twisted up in a white towel, she looks even more like Mom. Like Mom did.
“Edie,” she says. “We need to go to the police station today. You have to make a statement and they’re going to want to ask you about the history of your dad’s abuse and things.”
“Oh,” I reply. This is not something I want to do. “Did they let Dad out on bail?”
Siobhan nods. “Yes. The police told me that someone posted bail for him today and they’re letting him out as soon as the bank transfer clears. He’s not allowed to leave the country, though.”
“So he’s here. In London,” I say. The feeling of panic is starting again. My chest tightens and I feel like there’s not enough air getting into my lungs.
“Edie, your testimony might help get the charges upped to murder. It will be circumstantial, but the history of your father’s abuse and continued harassment strongly infers that he had a motive to hurt Sydney.”
I let everything sink in. My gut reaction is for us to hide out in this tiny space until I know my father is either safely behind bars or back in Canada. But I’m not going to let him keep me running.
“I want to see him.”
Siobhan’s eyes widen. “What? No. Edie, you don’t really mean that.”
“I do. I need to. I want to.” I stand up and run a hand through my hair. “I’ve been running from him since I was like, ten years old. I’m not going to run anymore. And I want him to know that.”
The look on Siobhan’s face tells me she’s not sure about this idea.
“I need to see him,” I say before she can speak. “So I can tell him I’m going to make sure the police know what happened to Mom and me before her death. To let him know he won’t get away with his lie about this being an accident.”
CHAPTER 32
Siobhan insists I try to eat something before we go to the police station. Even though I’m light-headed and dehydrated, I feel like anything I put into my stomach is just going to get puked right back up. But I agree since she’s letting me see Dad.
“Sydney loved this restaurant,” she says wistfully. “They opened the first one near where we were living in Wimbledon. Your mum and I were sharing a flat together. It was a little piece of Paris in London, she’d say.” Siobhan opens her menu and stares at it hard.
We’re silent for a few minutes. I look over my menu as well and decide on a sandwich called a croque monsieur. In Canada, I hated French class so much. Now I wonder if I’ll ever get the chance to learn it again. As far as I know, England has only one official language. Maybe I can convince Siobhan to let me go to France on summer exchanges or something.
“We lived in that flat when Sydney met your father,” Siobhan suddenly says. Her voice is shaky. “I always wonder what would’ve happened if we hadn’t gone to that club the night they met.”
I watch her wipe her tears away with the white cloth napkin. “I’m sorry, Edie. I’m probably just upsetting you even more. I’ll stop.” She takes a deep breath.
“It’s okay,” I say. And it is. I suddenly realize I haven’t shed a tear since initially finding out Mom was dead.
Eating lunch doesn’t go very well for either Siobhan or me. She downs three espressos in about a minute and then eats about four bites of salad before giving up.
I tear at the crust of my sandwich and watch several mothers with young children trying to have lunch at the table beside us. It seems like every few seconds there’s a kid screaming, running away, or attempting to turn his or her food into a projectile. The women all look like they’ve gotten dressed in the dark and forgot to brush their hair. Still, they’ve got their kids, and their kids have them.
The sandwich tastes like sawdust in my mouth. Chewing makes my jaw ache and I only manage a couple of bites. I’m worried if we don’t get to the station soon, Dad will be released.
The drive seems to take forever. Neither of us says much. It’s hard to believe that just yesterday I was here, still hoping Mom was alive and that everything would turn out okay.
Officer Murphy is on duty. He comes right over.
“I’m so sorry about your mum, Edie,” he says. He looks like he’s about to cry. I feel like I should say something to comfort him, which is stupid because I’m the one with the completely screwed-up life.
He clears his throat and turns to Siobhan. “Officer Murphy,” he says, shaking her hand. “You must be her aunt. It’s wonderful that you’ve made it here so quickly. I’ll be the one taking Edie’s statement.”
“I want to see my dad,” I say.
Officer Murphy’s eyes widen with surprise. “I don’t think we can do that.”
“Find out. Please,” I add.
He looks at Siobhan. “We’d need your consent as your acting in the parental role …”
Siobhan pauses for a moment. “I don’t think this is a good idea, but Edie feels this is something she needs to do. Only she knows what will bring her closure and I need to respect that.”
Officer Murphy looks at me. “It’s not as easy as you think, Edie. A team would need to do an assessment for risk, evaluate your emotional well-being, and then determine if such a visit is in your best interest. Given the close proximity to your mother’s death, I highly doubt the visit would be granted.”
“But I’m fifteen,” I protest. “I’m old enough to know if something is going to make me emo or not. I need to see him.”
The doors bursts open and two officers, one female and one male, come in, both of them struggling to contain this guy with grey, ropey hair who looks like he hasn’t bathed in years.
“We need backup!” the woman shouts, her face flushed from the effort of trying to keep the man from escaping.
A horrid stench is filling the air around us. The man lifts his head and roars.
“Get off me, you bleeding bastard pigs!” he shouts.
And that’s when I recognize him. It’s the man from the phone booth. I quickly look away as other officers rush over to help.
“Come with me,” Officer Murphy says, taking me by the e
lbow and leading me away. “You’ve got all of two minutes, tops.” He buzzes us through a side door that takes us into a grey hallway. The metal door closes behind Siobhan with a loud click.
We follow him down the hall. There are several cells on either side. Some are empty and several are occupied by a variety of people, mainly men, who either ignore us, glare at Officer Murphy hatefully, or stare at Siobhan and me with intent.
“Hey, gorgeous,” one of them calls as we walk past. I ignore him and keep my mind focused on facing Dad.
Officer Murphy stops in front of a cell and turns to me.
“I could get the sack for this, Edie,” he says. “Please make it fast.”
I nod and approach the cell, noticing how Siobhan is hanging back, a look of sheer hatred on her face. I think she’d tear Dad apart with her bare hands if she could.
Taking a deep breath, I step in front of the bars. Dad is sitting hunched over on a small bunk, his hands clasped in front of him, his head hanging down. He looks up at me. His eyes glitter with tears. Purple circles frame his eyes.
“Edie,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry. It was an accident.”
And, for a moment, I feel so sad that my father is locked up in here. The place looks awful, and there is graffiti carved into the walls. I want to hug him and feel his strong arms around me just like when I was little, when I still believed he was the one who would protect me from the monsters under the bed and the ones out in the real world. I can still remember the smell of his aftershave.
Only he turned out to be the monster.
He gets up and walks over. “I love you. I loved your mother. It was an accident.… You have to believe me. She was pushing my buttons.”
And that’s when something in me snaps.
“You ruined our lives,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. I make myself look him in the eye. “And you took Mom’s life away. But you’re not going to ruin my life anymore. The police are going to know everything. How you stalked us. How you used to hit Mom all the time and make her bleed. How you fractured her wrist that time and made her tell everyone she fell while jogging.”
Since You've Been Gone Page 14