It’s nice of Tim to try to make me feel better, but it’s not until I’m lying on my bed with Joe curled round me that I begin to calm down. Mum says he can stay over until I fall asleep. That would surprise me if I had the energy, but I’m too tired.
His arms are round me and I feel safe within them, like he can keep the bad dreams away.
He kisses my ear and I lie still and breathe him in.
I don’t let myself think that without him, and Matt of course, Katie and I would be dead.
It’s not a time for that now. It’s a time to let him hold me and keep the bad stuff at bay.
In the days that follow, Tim W-P is torn between trying to persuade us to move, with a distraught Katie who keeps having nightmares, and being patient while the police track our kidnappers’ trail. Although they never could find the man the other hitmen called Zach when they searched for him after Katya was taken, this time he left an important clue – his phone. When the police took it from his body, they found a route map programmed into it from his home location to our village that allowed them to track him back to base. And there they found the final answers they were looking for.
It was my fault he’d found me.
He’d hacked into Tasha’s Facebook account and used it to watch our messages, hoping it’d lead him to me. When I’d sent her the farewell message, it was him who sent me the final response with a little animated cartoon . . . one that carried a tracking cookie that embedded into my laptop and fed back information on my location. He’d traced me to the approximate area and then it was easy – a special school for autistic kids only a mile away . . . yes, wait and follow whoever picked Katie up from school. Very clever.
But what the police found also gave Tim the reassurance he needed that our cover wasn’t blown. Zach or whoever he really was hadn’t told his bosses where I was – he’d sent them an email to say he’d located me and he’d be bringing them back my body in a bag. But he worked independently and it seems they trusted him to do that, or too much information from him would incriminate them . . . no one was quite sure which.
So the only people who knew where we were died in that car. Tim said we could take a chance if we wanted and stay. They’d keep a heightened police watch until after the trial, which was only a couple of weeks away. Like I said to Mum and Dad, if they were going to find us here now then they’d find us anywhere, so why move again. Fortunately they agreed with me. I don’t think any of us could have stood to start over another time.
On the day I give evidence in the trial, they clear the court of members of the public. The prosecution team tell me that’s essential for my safety and I’m entitled to it being an under-eighteen in the witness protection programme. I would have been allowed to use the video link, but I want to give evidence in court. It feels important to actually be there and not hide away. They shield me from view with a screen. The judge is a woman and much younger than I expected her to be. That makes me feel better.
All this time I’ve built the trial up to be some huge spectre of awfulness in my mind, but I guess what happened in July changed that. The worst has happened and Zach Alias-Whatever can’t ever hurt anyone again. Telling my story on a witness stand is nothing compared to that. Besides I keep remembering what Matt said.
The night before we left for the trial he came round with Joe to see me. While Joe played with Katie, he took me aside for a chat.
‘How’re you feeling about testifying?’ he asked.
‘Nervous. I hope I don’t screw up. I don’t want to let anyone down.’
He smiled wryly. ‘That’s exactly what I said before I got deployed for the first time.’
‘I guess it’s not as scary as that.’
‘Not necessarily. If that’s how you feel then –’
‘No, Matt, it really is not as scary as that! I’m not stupid. I see the news. Standing in a courtroom talking is not as bad as going to war. It’s not as if I’ll be in any danger there with police everywhere.’
Katie was making Joe burp her baby doll and Matt struggled to keep his face straight when I pointed to them.
‘I’m going to take the piss out of him so bad later,’ he said, before turning back to me. ‘But it’s OK to be scared, you know.’
‘I know.’
‘Just imagine them all naked on the bog and you’ll be fine.’
Joe turned round in surprise at my shout of laughter. He grinned at me. ‘Did he just tell you the naked on the bog thing? He always says that to me.’
‘Yeah, your brother is gross.’
‘Ah, shut up, it works.’ Matt leaned back in the chair and stretched out his prosthetic legs like he still had flesh and blood there that needed to be stretched. Was that habit? Or was it really more comfortable?
I wondered if he knew that I’d think of him when I was on the stand and then I’d just have to be brave even if I didn’t feel like it. Because some people had to face far worse than me and they could still grin about it.
He looked at me and his eyes narrowed. Had he guessed what I was thinking? ‘Did Joe ever tell you what I was like when I woke up in hospital?’
‘No, what were you like?’
‘I woke up screaming. I thought I was still out there. When I found out I had no legs, I mostly lost it again. The medical team had a hard time with me, and the poor sods paid to sort my head out had a worse one. The way I saw it, I’d never be a real person again without my legs, and definitely never a man again.’
‘I wouldn’t have known any of that when I met you.’
‘Yeah, well, the family don’t want to see you like that so you man up and don’t let it show.’
That’s when I swore to myself that I would not lose it or break down on that witness stand. I would not. I would think of Matt and hang in there.
‘The thing is, you helped with that.’
‘I did? How?’ I couldn’t see how anything I’d done could possibly have helped him.
‘Because coming and dragging yours and Katie’s asses out of that mess was the best thing that could have happened to me. It showed me I was still a man. One with a couple of limbs missing, but still a man. And it showed me I didn’t have to be a defeatist, self-pitying crock of shit. When I had to do something like getting you two out of there, I could still do it. I just have to do it a bit differently to before.’
Katie waved at us and he beamed at her and waved back.
‘So you see, I got to thinking after all that business . . . I shouldn’t be giving up on anything I want to do. If I want to help my old man out with the farm, I will. I just have to do it like I did it back there and think around the problems. And whatever it is, I’ll find a way. I’m already back doing the milking again.’
‘Really? That’s amazing . . . no, totally it is.’
Joe looked over. ‘You’re right, it is totally amazing. Considering how often he used to duck out of it when he had both legs.’
Matt threw a sofa cushion at his head. It hit hard – there was spin on it – and Katie made a face at him as Joe rubbed his head. She stomped over and picked up Matt’s hand and bit it hard.
‘YOWCH! She’s vicious.’
Joe gave him a sickeningly smug smile.
‘You wait till she’s not around, little bro! I’ll get you back. Anyway, Holly, what I was trying to say, before my brother stuck his nose in, was thank you, in a way, because if it hadn’t been for you I don’t know if the penny would have dropped for me yet.’
I think about Matt as I give my evidence and I get to the difficult parts where I start to shake and my eyes sting. His quick, sly grin flashes through my mind and I blink back the tears and hold myself steady. He’s doing the milking today while Joe’s down here with me, and I’m manning up.
I guess we both gave each other a helping hand.
Later, we’re in a Thai restaurant that Mum and Dad promised me we’d go to after the trial – I love good Thai – and Joe whispers in my ear, ‘You were mega brave today.’
/> It’s not bravery, I want to tell him. It’s just getting on with it.
And that’s how I’ll manage day after day. They could still come after me, the friends of all the guys who’ll get sent down as a result of what I did. I guess they could try to trace me and keep trying until one day one of us messes up again. We’ll never be able to come out of witness protection. But I’ll keep on keeping on. I’m not going to spend my life worrying someone will find me one day and put a bullet in my brain. I could just as well get run over by a bus.
I’ve got Mum and Dad and Katie and Joe. And I’ve survived so far. I just have to keep on doing that.
Katie takes us all aback after the trial. She suddenly starts sleeping without any trouble again, no more bad dreams. She must have overheard us talking or something because when I tuck her in one night and say, ‘Sleep well, Pops,’ she answers, ‘I will because the bad men can’t get us now.’ We hadn’t explained to her about the trial because we didn’t think she’d understand, but I guess we never will be able to predict what Katie will or won’t grasp. Then she smiles and makes me lie back on the bed with her while she points out her star constellations on the ceiling above by name.
‘Love you, Boo-Boo,’ she says sleepily just before she drifts off. And I promise her that in the morning we’ll go to Joe’s and play on the swing. She holds my hand as she falls asleep. I lie beside her for a long time, happy I still get to hold her hand and happier still that she’s smiling in her sleep.
I visit Katya after the trial. It’s a special arrangement set up by Tim W-P after I beg and beg him. The nurse leaves me alone with her. I sit by the bed on an orange plastic chair. Katya’s face is as pale as the last time I saw her, her cheekbones even more pronounced. Her beautiful hair is dull.
‘I want you to try to wake up, Katya,’ I say softly to her. ‘Come back to us. I’m so sorry you got hurt and I know you’re trapped inside somewhere, but I think you can hear me. I hope so anyway.’
She breathes, attached to machines controlling that for her.
‘I hope it’s beautiful where you are, I hope that so much, but I came here to tell you something. Your mum and dad thought it might help if I did tell you. The man who did this to you, he can’t get you now, Katya. He’s dead and his bosses are locked up for life. They’re never coming out.’
The machine breathes on.
‘So I want you to know that, even if it is beautiful where you are, it’s beautiful sometimes out here in this world too. Remember those sunsets over Treliske Cove, and the sea in the dawn light? It’s safe for you here now. Those men can’t hurt you any more. Your mum and dad have a new name like me and my family, like you can have if you come back to us. A whole new life, Katya, where you’ll be safe. Your mum and dad miss you so much. They want you back.’
They say it’ll take a miracle now for her to come out of the vegetative state after this length of time, but you have to hope, right? You have to try.
‘I’d like to hang out with you again. I’d like us to do stuff like we would have planned to do if we’d had the time. I’d like us to get to be best friends. Because I think we would have been if you hadn’t got hurt. I’d want you to know what real friends are like. I didn’t know that when we first met, but I do now. Real friends are there for you. They watch your back and save your skin when you need them. I’d like you to meet Joe and Matt – I think you’d like them. Katie would love to see you again too, I know she would. I tried to make it better for you, Katya. I made sure they paid for what they did. Please come back to us. Please.’
There’s no flutter from her eyes. No answering miracle. I sit and watch her for a while.
‘I’m not going to give up on you, do you hear me? I’ve got to go now, but I found something out while you’ve been asleep and it’s that I’m really good at not giving up. So you see, you have to wake up because I won’t give up until you do.’
I stand up and give her hand a last squeeze.
‘One day, you’re going to come back to us, you just remember that. And we’ll go swimming again together.’
It’s the fourth of September and Joe and I are lounging on a couple of easy chairs in the corner of the sixth form common room, filling in our signing-up papers and arguing over subject choices. We’re taking French of course, and English Literature, but Joe’s rubbishing my choice of media.
‘You want to pick a proper subject like maths.’
‘Two things – first, I don’t even like maths, second, practically our whole lives are affected by the media. It’s the subject of the future.’
‘No, it’s a doss.’
‘Well, it could be my future career choice so suck it up.’
All over the room, people are chewing the ends of biros and agonising over making the decision that will influence the rest of their lives. Me, I’m just grateful I still have a life to make decisions over. And one of the people responsible for that is sitting right next to me, sticking out his tongue – complete with new silver stud – and wiggling it in my face before he grabs me and kisses me.
I kiss him back and I don’t care who is watching.
I still choose media though, whatever he says. Maybe I’ll be a TV journalist. That would be cool. Or a film producer. Or work in magazines, like Mum used to.
The thing is, I have so many choices. And every day I am thankful for that. I have a future. I have a past now too, just one that’s shorter than most. But it’s still a past.
Matt and Joe had a fight after the GCSE results came out and Joe got a string of A-stars. Matt told his dad how Joe really wanted to go to sixth form and uni, and Joe got mad at him for putting pressure on his dad when he was needed on the farm. Apparently Matt told him very bluntly that he was not in any way needed now as he was there so to ‘get back to sixth form and stop being a martyr’.
I didn’t take the fight part seriously, or Matt’s words. That’s just how those two are with each other over important things.
But Matt got his own way and Joe’s dad duly backed him up and told Joe to get his backside to sixth form too. Then Matt made us all laugh the day before we went back to school by saying he had a plan too: he’d got hooked on watching the Paralympics. ‘I could do that,’ he said excitedly. ‘Four years’ time, I could be in Brazil!’
‘Doing what?’ Joe asked him.
‘Not exactly sure yet, but I called a few of the lads I met at Headley Court and we’re going to meet up and try a few things out when I’ve got some spare time. Got to be focused though – only four years to get to national standard!’
Joe shook his head and laughed. ‘Crazy fool,’ he said to me. ‘He means it, you know. And I wouldn’t bet against him making it either.’
So here we are in the common room. I’ve got a violin case at my feet. My first lesson in ages is booked for today straight after school and my fingers are already itching to get back to playing for real.
I look round the room again, at the now-familiar faces. Some I like and some I don’t. Some I ignore, like the Crudmilla Cronies. I look at the boy sitting next to me, flicking his tongue stud as he debates whether he really should take further maths. And I smile.
My name is Holly Latham and I’m sixteen years and eight months old. My boyfriend is an Emo freak and he’s awesome. There are two things about me worth knowing: I’m happy now and I’m a survivor.
Firstly thanks to my wonderful agent, Ariella Feiner, who gave me the idea of a story involving someone in the witness protection scheme and was my first reader, and who continues to look after my career with consummate skill. Further thanks go to Jane Willis for representing me so well in the foreign rights market.
A very important thank you to my editor at Egmont UK, Stella Paskins, whose wise advice and skilful editing made By Any Other Name so much better than I could have made it alone. Thank you for knowing where to cut when I didn’t! Additional thanks to all at Egmont UK and Australia.
Thanks to several members of Authonomy:
�
� To Dutch for his technical help with the kidnapping plot, and to T L Tyson for her support, and thanks to both of you for making me laugh on my writing breaks – the balaclavas are there just for you!
• To Michael D Scott, for bouncing ideas around with me until I came up with Katie’s role in the book, and also for the advice on tracking IP addresses
• To Shoshanna Einfeld for all her support and common sense
• To Berni Stevens for her cheerleading and for giving me information on London locations, and for travelling up for my wedding x
Final thanks to Paul, for taking over everything else so I had time to write this book, for teaching me unarmed combat and practising the fight scenes with me, and for solving my plot hole at the eleventh hour by having more common sense about communications devices than I do. Oh and, ‘Reader, I married him.’
Also by Laura Jarratt
Skin Deep
If you liked By Any Other Name , you’ll love . . .
Rewind
The stereo thumps out a drumbeat. Lindsay yells and reaches into the front of the car to turn the volume up – it’s her favourite song. The boys in the front laugh and Rob puts his feet up on the dash. I smile like I’m having a good time, squashed in the middle of the back seat with Lindsay dance-jigging around on my knee and Charlotte and Sarah on either side of me. I wish Steven would slow down because the pitch of the car round the country lanes makes my stomach lurch and I don’t think he should be driving this fast.
Charlotte’s giggling and rubbing Rob’s head over the back of the seat. She likes him, I can tell. He rolls a joint and takes a drag, then passes it to her. She inhales the smoke right down. I shiver inside. Mum and Dad would go crazy if they knew I was in a car with people taking drugs, and if they saw me in Lindsay’s halter-neck top and short skirt. Charlotte passes me the joint and I shake my head. She shrugs, her face scornful, and Lindsay grabs it and takes a few puffs before passing it on.
By Any Other Name Page 22