by Maria Farrer
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you into trouble. I never said anything bad about you.”
He pulls out a chair and sits down. “I think they were following up on your phone contacts. You had messages on your phone from me. Nothing I couldn’t explain.”
I pull my shoulders right up to my ears and then drop them again. I don’t know what I can say.
“Forget it,” he says. “It wasn’t that much of a big deal and it’s not why I’ve come.”
“Oh.” I rub my hands up and down my legs. I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes.
He leans back and taps the table. “Do you think Cathy would mind if we have a quick talk. It’s important.”
The café is empty apart from one other customer. I go out to the kitchen and Cathy looks surprised when I tell her Simon is here. “Fine,” she says. “We’re hardly busy.” I return to the table, sit down opposite him and wait out an awkward silence.
“So,” he says. “How are you?”
“Yeah – good.” He looks at me unblinking – sceptical. I take a deep breath. “OK, well the last few weeks haven’t exactly been the best of my life.”
“And your gran?”
“Home. Mum’s looking after her.”
Simon widens his eyes in amazement. “She’s home already? That’s incredible. And your mum is looking after her?”
“I know. Sounds unlikely, but Mum’s been pretty good lately. Looking after Gran has given her a sense of purpose. She’s only been on a couple of benders, which isn’t that surprising given what’s been going on.”
Simon shrugs. “So who’s looking after you?”
“Dad’s home a bit.” I leave it at that. Dad’s made it quite clear that it’s a massive inconvenience having to stick around so that he can keep an eye on me. His version of keeping an eye on me seems to involve seeing as little of me as possible. He locks himself away with his phone and the computer and has murmured conversations for hours and hours. He must use up all his talk because he’s got none left for anyone else. As long as I can account for my every move, that’s where his interest starts and stops.
“What about you?” I ask. This stilted conversation with Simon is embarrassing and ridiculous.
“I’ve started working at the gym round the corner from home. I’m mainly on reception at the moment, but they’re giving me training and I get free membership. I’ve been working out a bit.”
“Sounds good.”
“I had to find some way to sort myself out.” He drops his eyes and I know it’s a dig at me but I’m not going to rise to the bait.
“You should try some of my life,” I tell you.
He picks up a fork from the table and turns it over in his hands. “That’s kind of why I’m here. I’ve been worried about you.”
“Thanks.”
“No, I mean it, and I should’ve got in contact before.”
“Simon, you said you needed some time apart from me. I get that. It’s fine. Leave it. I don’t want to cause you any more trouble.” I pretend to be cool about this, but I realize how much I’ve missed Simon; how nice it is to have him sitting here with me.
“No, it’s not fine. I think I could have warned you before all this happened.” He grinds the end of the fork into the table.
“What are you talking about?”
Another awkward silence – as if he’s in two minds whether to carry on or not.
“Maybe it’s nothing.” He’s lowered his voice, leaning forward so our heads are close together. He’s put the fork down and he’s pressing down on the prongs, making the other end bounce up and down on the table. It’s distracting. “The police come round to my place on the day after you were arrested and they ask me a million questions about how I know you, where I was on the day of the burglary, could anyone vouch for me. That kind of thing. It wasn’t hard to answer their questions and they didn’t have a problem with any of it except…”
“Except what?”
“Except they seemed particularly interested in Kelly.”
“Yeah, they asked me a lot about Kelly too.” I shift in my chair, trying to work out where this is leading. “So what did you tell them?”
“Her dad’s in prison, you know.”
I lean back in my chair. “He’s always in prison. It’s hardly a state secret.”
Simon shrugs. “I told them I knew Kelly a little. They asked me about the night of her party – all those messages on your phone. They wanted to know if I knew where you were.”
My heart beats faster. “Did you tell them?”
“Yeah. I said you were with Kelly’s brother.”
“You told them I was with Tyler?”
“Well, you were, weren’t you?”
I close my eyes and try to calm myself. I can’t believe the police haven’t called me back in. If Simon’s given them Tyler’s name then I’m dead. Or he is.
Simon touches my hand. “If Tyler’s got you wrapped up in all this, then you need to tell the police.”
“There’s no need to get carried away.” I try to keep the worry out of my voice, but Simon knows a lot more than I’m comfortable with.
“Kelly’s been telling me one or two things about her brother.”
“Stepbrother – and since when have you been having heart-to-hearts with Kelly?”
Simon doesn’t say anything. I swear to God he’s blushing.
“I … we’ve met up. A couple of times.”
“Oh yeah?”
He shifts himself away from me. “It was you who invited me along to her party.” I recognize the resentment simmering below the surface. “You sent me God knows how many texts. I turn up. You’re nowhere to be found. No answer from your phone. How do you think I felt?” He sighs loudly. “I decided I may as well have a good time. I got pissed – probably worse. Ended up with Kelly – DON’T say anything. Mistake – maybe. But she’s OK. You used to be friends once, remember? She actually cares about you. And yes, we’ve met up a couple of times since.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “So why did you give me all that rubbish about leaving the café because of me? Why didn’t you just tell me you were seeing Kelly?” I try to ignore twinges of jealousy – twinges I’ve got no right to feel.
“Because I’m not seeing Kelly – or not like that. Look, forget about me and Kelly.” He lowers his voice again. “Did you know that it was Tyler who got Kelly to invite you to the party? Which was odd since she said Tyler wasn’t invited himself…”
“Half the people there weren’t invited.”
His eyes search mine. “She told me he kept on and on at her – said it was the right thing to do as you’d be feeling sad and all that. She agreed and then, out of the blue, Tyler turns up and whisks you away. She thinks he set you up on purpose.”
“That’s rubbish. The only reason I bumped into him was because my bag was stolen. I was about to leave.”
Simon picks up the fork again. “Apparently he lives in a caravan somewhere out of town. Kelly says he hangs out with a bunch of weirdos.”
“I wouldn’t know who he hangs out with.”
“She says she knows how these people operate. She says if you get sucked in you’re sunk.”
I fold my arms and try to look relaxed. “Kelly’s full of crap.”
“Is she, though? Why would she make it up?”
“You know how she likes to overdramatize things.”
“No, I don’t.” He stretches his arms and pushes away from the table. “So you’re telling me all this – this burglary and your arrest and everything – has got nothing to do with Tyler?”
I shake my head, my energy slipping away. Lying does that to you. It drains you. But the last thing I want is for Simon to get involved. I don’t want him being dragged into this mess.
“You’ve never been a g
ood liar,” he says. “I know you too well. You need to tell the police. If you don’t, I will.” He throws down the challenge as if it’s some kind of game.
I tip my head back and close my eyes. When I open them again, Simon is watching me. “You don’t know anything,” I say.
“Why are you trying to protect him?”
I look away again, rub the top of my arm with my hand.
“You admit it then – you are trying to protect him. I thought you said nothing was going on between you two?”
It’s not fair, Simon doing this to me. He wouldn’t if he knew.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on between us. He’s the only person who’s ever talked to me about my brother since he died. He made me feel normal, for once, or at least that I’m not the only one struggling to cope. He knows how it feels to be in my situation. He was Liam’s best friend.”
“So you keep saying. But that only makes it easier for him to manipulate you. What do you know about him really? You used to complain that Liam changed when he was around Tyler. You’d come into the café grumbling about it. I got the impression you didn’t like him much. Now, suddenly, he’s your new best friend and you’re the one who’s changed. Seems a bit of a coincidence.”
“Tyler is not a bad guy. You need to leave this alone.”
Simon holds up his hands. “I don’t know what’s going on and if you don’t want to tell me then that’s up to you. All I’m saying is I think it’s possible Tyler is using you. You need to take care.”
I recognize what he’s telling me. It’s not as if I haven’t thought it myself in my blackest moments. But some part of me refuses to believe Tyler is all bad. I cover my face with my hands and try to think. When I lean forward and clasp my hands together on the table, Simon does the same. It’s disconcerting.
“I know you’re trying to help,” I say, “but I need you to promise me you won’t go to the police and start making accusations. If you do, then I could end up in a lot more trouble than I’m in now. If you really care about me then you’ll keep quiet. Just for the time being – for your own sake and mine. Please.”
We hold each other’s gaze, his eyes searching for information that I’m not going to give him.
“OK. But if I promise not to do anything, you have to promise not to go anywhere near Tyler Dawson.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t be seeing him.”
“Promise?”
I nod.
“You can call me,” he says. “If anything happens or you need me – call – OK?”
I smile at him. “No phone,” I say, spreading my hands.
He’s so bloody nice and I have no idea why he bothers with me at all. If anything happened to Simon, I would never forgive myself. So, right now, all I need is for Simon to keep quiet. He knows enough to be dangerous and it’s bad enough the police know I was with Tyler after Kelly’s party. I’ve been kidding myself I can get through this – but now I’m not so sure.
The full impact of everything Simon said seeps slowly into my bones, increasing my fear and messing with my head a little more. I don’t know if the police have done anything with the information that Simon’s given them, but suddenly Declan’s threats seem much closer.
In fact everything seems much closer because the Youth Offending Team is on to my case and I have now been assigned a caseworker. She’s coming to visit me for the first time this morning. Her name is Siân. She’ll be coming to my house at 10.30 and I watch the clock tick away the time. Dad was supposed to be here but he’s been called away on urgent business. He and Mum argued last night, the walls of our house not thick enough for me to hide from the details. How can you leave me to deal with this? Is she more important? I could only suppose this was me. I didn’t want to think about the rest so I shut myself in my room and turned the music up loud. I thought Mum would get boozed after their argument, but she was up at seven this morning, vacuuming the floors. Early morning cleaning used to be a regular event, but the vacuum cleaner has barely made it out of the cupboard since Liam died. This morning the house is spotless.
When I go into the living room, Mum is smoothing already smooth cushions. I move to the window. I want to get a look at Siân before I meet her. I’ve talked to her on the phone and she sounds OK. I picture her middle-aged, boring, sensibly dressed and hard as nails. You’d have to be to do this kind of job.
“Are you all right?” Mum asks.
I wonder what part of today could possibly qualify me for being all right, but I force a smile. I’ve almost forgotten about the mum who cares whether or not I’m all right. She couldn’t even begin to know. Her face, puffy and swollen earlier today, is now carefully made up. I wish I could talk to her, but Dad’s made it clear that she can’t deal with any more stress – which is his way of telling me to shut up when Mum’s around. He’s a fine one to talk.
Mum finds a tiny smear on the empty trophy cabinet and rushes off to get a duster. There’s something sad about her determination to present the perfect home – to prove that she has no part in my criminal tendencies. Don’t worry, the guilt’s all mine, I’d like to say to her. But what’s the point?
I pull the net curtain back a few centimetres to get a clearer view of the road. I have no idea what to expect from Siân or what she’ll expect from me.
A car comes to a stop outside and Mum joins me at the window. For a moment the back of our hands touch and for some reason I apologize. It’s bang on 10.30. The car door opens and I watch every move. This must be Siân, but she’s nothing like I imagined. She’s young and she’s dressed in narrow jeans, canvas shoes, T-shirt and jacket. She’s pretty too, her long, black hair twisted up into a clip at the back.
Mum rubs her hands up and down her skirt and walks towards the door. She has it open before Siân knocks. I hear them by the front door and I’m stunned by Mum’s ability to rise to the occasion, another tiny glimpse of how she used to be.
Their voices move in my direction. It’s only a few steps. And now she’s here, smiling, coming towards me with her hand held out to shake mine. It seems too friendly and I’m instantly on guard. My heart tells me to make myself as small and invisible as possible. My head tells me I must shake her hand.
She introduces herself and tells us both about what she does. She has a soft accent, from Ireland, she says, and a smile that lights up her face. She asks me how I’m getting on. I tell her I’m fine. Mum offers coffee or tea.
“Thank you,” says Siân. “Tea if you’re making it.”
It would be easy to like this person, yet warnings fire off in my brain and I know I can’t relax for a moment. I can’t afford to slip into any traps and say something I shouldn’t. I don’t know what she knows. I don’t know what’s been going on behind the scenes as Dad likes to refer to it.
“Are you happy for us to talk in here?” she asks, indicating the chairs in the sitting room.
I nod.
“Would you like your mum here?”
“I’d prefer not if that’s OK.” If Siân has a view on this, she keeps it to herself.
“Shall we sit down then?” She puts her bag on the floor beside the armchair and perches on the edge of the seat. She indicates the next door chair for me to sit in. I feel like a guest in my own house.
Siân asks me how life has been since I was arrested and I tell her what I think she wants to hear: I’m back at work. Things are OK.
“For some people it can be quite a frightening and confusing time,” she says in a way that sounds more like a question than a statement. It’s an invitation to me to start talking, but I don’t want to talk. She doesn’t push me.
I listen to the sounds of Mum pulling mugs out of the cupboard in the kitchen and sliding the tray off the high shelf. She’s even baked biscuits.
“Have you been seeing friends?” Siân asks.
I give a small shrug. “Some.�
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“And have you talked to them about what happened?”
“No, not really.”
I’m not making this easy for her. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a file. It has a flowery cover. She doesn’t open it, just puts it on the table.
“How’s school been going? I suppose you had exams last term.”
“Yeah. I haven’t had my results yet.”
She turns her mouth down at the corners. “Oh yes – results – I remember results days only too well! I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
I shrug.
“And I hear you’re an excellent runner.”
I wonder where all her information comes from. “My brother was the excellent runner,” I say. “I’m pretty average.”
There’s a pause before Siân says, “I’m sorry about your brother. It must have been a hard year for you.”
So she knows about Liam too.
“Have you had any counselling since he died?” she asks.
“No.”
“Were you offered any?”
“Yep. At school. I didn’t bother, though.”
She nods and smiles again. “It’s not for everyone,” she says.
That makes me feel better.
Mum comes in with the tray of tea. Her hand shakes as she pours and her breath smells of extra-strong mints. It’s a bad sign.
“We were just talking about running,” Siân says to Mum.
Mum’s gaze flickers towards the cabinet then back to me.
“I think Amber overdid the training a bit this year. Hopefully her knee will be mended for next season. Her dad’s very keen. Liam was too.”
“So Amber was saying.”
Mum hardly ever mentions Liam’s name in public and the pain is written on her face.
“Anyway, I’ll leave you to it,” she says, and scurries away.
Siân takes a sip of tea. “I’m sure you’ve had a chance to think a little more about what happened. About your part in the burglary.”
I nod.