Lullaby

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Lullaby Page 29

by Claire Seeber


  ‘But you just listened to the message, didn’t you?’ I asked, disconcerted by the interruption, and he nodded his head.

  ‘Yes, but I’m trying to work out if Maxine’s with him.’

  I shrugged. ‘I guess she must be.’

  ‘We had Gorek in for questioning this morning—’

  ‘Brilliant!’

  ‘It wasn’t brilliant, Jess. We had to release him because frankly–’ He overtook a rusty old Nissan straddling two lanes. ‘That’s not bloody fit for the road,’ he muttered, ever the copper.

  ‘Frankly what?’ I was impatient.

  ‘Frankly, there’s still nothing to link Gorek to the crime, nothing apart from Maxine.’

  ‘There must be, surely.’

  ‘There isn’t.’

  ‘Well, if Gorek’s not bloody involved, who is?’

  An ominous silence settled throughout the car. My head was really aching still.

  ‘You don’t think—you’re not imagining that Robbie—’ I couldn’t quite say it out loud.

  ‘Jess, you’re going to have to accept your brother’s involved.’

  ‘I’m not. He isn’t.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. How can he not be? He’s just rung you and absolutely incriminated himself.’

  ‘He rang to help,’ I objected desperately.

  ‘That’s as maybe, but it doesn’t change the facts. I mean, who else knew about the location—your holiday home? It’s too much of a coincidence.’ He turned his sidelights on, glancing down at me. I stared stubbornly away from him.

  ‘Look, I’m sure—I know it’s really painful, but it’s also unavoidable,’ he said.

  I was literally lost for words. Deb chimed in softly from the back, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. ‘Jessica, it’s going to be okay. Let’s just try to keep calm, shall we?’ I should keep calm, she meant. ‘We’ll see Robbie soon, and you’ll get a chance to talk to him.’

  But I felt a constriction in my throat, and though I swallowed painfully several times and gritted my teeth quite hard, a hot tear trickled from my eye, swiftly followed by another. Trading Robbie in for Louis, that’s what it amounted to, apparently. Silver didn’t speak, but he must have seen the tears that plopped plump onto my jeans. He rested his hand briefly over mine, but I couldn’t even savour the warmth. I sat there numbly until Deb shifted slightly in the back, and he took his hand away again.

  The car crunched across the gravel and pulled up at the exact spot Silver and I had eaten fish and chips only a few days ago. I was suddenly bowled over by horror at how near I must have been to Louis. And I hadn’t even felt it. So much for maternal instinct. The guilt that whacked me now was quite immense.

  The car park was much emptier than it had been the time before; evening was drawing in, and the temperature had dropped dramatically in the past few days. The holidays were coming to an end.

  Squad cars were parked at random around the garden wall of the cottages, and uniformed coppers milled about looking serious, intent. Police-tape was already flapping in the brisk sea breeze, and a small crowd of locals had gathered, vulture-like, to pick over unfolding events. As I got out of the car, Silver’s phone rang and he hung back to take the call. I wanted to ask him why they hadn’t looked here before, but Deb was already shepherding me through the crowd.

  Glasses stood in the scrubby front garden, slightly apart from a clique of uniforms, smoking a cheroot. He clocked Silver first and raised a hand, then saw me in the crowd. I couldn’t read the look that passed over his rather lugubrious face; quickly he ground out the fag and barked an order to a nearby female officer. She walked briskly into the cottage, and my heart leapt. Was she going to fetch my son? I rushed forwards, but as I reached the tape an officious young copper held me back. I was about to barge past anyway when Silver caught up with me, flashed his badge and propelled me into the garden.

  And then the policewoman came back out, empty-handed, and muttered something in Glasses’ ear, and he stepped forward to greet us, shook Silver’s hand. I could hardly curb my impatience, but my heart was in my mouth because something was not right, that was obvious, and I tried to speak but my voice wouldn’t come out at first, and when it did it was cracked and hoarse.

  ‘Louis?’ I begged. ‘Is Louis here?’ and I saw Glasses hesitate, and fear engulfed me absolutely; I became a human time-bomb of angst. I was shaking and my knees might not hold me up much longer, they were going to tell me something bad, I could see, and I whispered, ‘What is it?’ and Silver was staring hard at Glasses, and Deb had her arms round me now.

  Then Silver spoke and said, ‘It’s not Louis, Jess. Louis is not here,’ and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, because at least they hadn’t said what I expected, that Louis was dead, his little body stiff inside that small damp house, his arms flung up to save himself. He must still be safe somewhere—but Silver was still speaking, he’d moved in front of me, and he was holding both my hands now, and taking me apart from the group, and Glasses turned like it was all slow motion, and his shoulders slumped, and Silver said,

  ‘It’s Robbie, Jess. I’m so sorry. Robbie’s dead.’

  I started laughing then, because he must be joking, and I said, ‘Don’t be stupid. Of course he’s not dead. He just rang me, didn’t he?’ and Deb’s arm clutched tighter, but I pushed her off and I looked at Silver and said ‘Don’t lie’, but then I saw he wasn’t, and I doubled over as if he’d punched me in the stomach, I couldn’t breathe, my breath had gone all strained, and then I thought I would be sick. I was panting with the effort not to, and I didn’t care who saw. I gripped onto my knees, and took a minute or two to right myself, but eventually I did.

  I started to move like I was in a dream; it surely was a dream. I stepped towards the cottage, and I said, ‘Where is he? I want to see him,’ and Silver said, from somewhere behind me, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?’ but I shouted at him, ‘Just let me see my brother. I want to see my brother, please,’ and I stumbled towards the cottage, and so they followed me.

  There was noise and voices from inside, and I even heard some laughter—before they saw me in the doorway. How wrong was that—the dead weren’t even cold, and people here were laughing?

  And there on the floor, on the old floorboards that could have done with a proper good scrub, lay Robbie, and he looked like he was asleep. My little brother sleeping on the floor like he had done when we were kids, just used to curl up anywhere, my Robbie did, and snooze awhile. I stood in the doorway and just looked down at him, through the haze of police photographers and men in those ill-fitting jumpsuits, dusting things; they looked at me and one by one melted away, until it was just him left in the musty room. His legs were bent up towards his chest with one arm flung out, and he looked like he was five.

  And I walked towards him slowly, and knelt by him, and I took his head in my hands, and laid it on my knee. I couldn’t bear to think that he had died alone, because he’d never liked the dark, my big strong little brother, and I leant down and kissed him on the lips, only they were truly freezing now. I cradled his dark head in my arms, and I whispered, ‘Wake up, Rob, it’s me.’ Only he didn’t wake, he didn’t stir, he didn’t move at all. He was just cold and still.

  ‘Wake up, Robbie, wake up, please,’ I said again, more urgently, although I knew he wouldn’t now, and dry-eyed I stroked his tousled curls, staring down at him. And it was only then that I saw there was a syringe beside him, and his arm was tied with a tourniquet and was black and bruised, but he sort of looked at peace, I thought, and I laid my head down next to his and eventually the tears came. I cried for my childhood mate who’d gone and left me now; I cried for the baby I used to feed a bottle to, so proud I was, pushing him in the park, though the pushchair was twice my own size. My baby brother who sobbed beneath his bunk-bed when my parents fought, he thought we didn’t know; who had run shrieking with me in fun so very near these walls. My little brother with whom I’d shared Mr Whippies for our tea
, because our mum was too spaced-out to cook; who’d hidden behind the saggy sofa with me when Tom Baker fought the Cybermen on Sunday afternoons, holding sweaty secret hands, until Leigh caught us and laughed out loud. I held on to him now like I’d never let him go, and I felt a sadness that cracked my very heart, a mourning for all his dreams that came to nothing, for the waste that was my Robbie’s life.

  Eventually, Silver knelt beside me, and very softly said, ‘Come on, Jess, we should let them get on, shouldn’t we?’ but I didn’t want to leave my brother here, where it was so cold and lonely, where the wind was whipping up outside.

  ‘Please,’ I whispered, ‘I can’t bear to leave him,’ and Silver said, ‘I know. But they need to do their work, and then they’ll move him somewhere better, I promise you.’

  ‘Will they take him somewhere light?’ I said, utterly forlorn. We both knew that the light was gone forever now for Robbie, but still he nodded and said, ‘I expect so.’ And so I took my jumper off, and laid Robbie’s head back down, laid it on my jumper as gently as I could.

  Then I kissed him once again, kissed him for the last time, and let Silver lead me from that dark room, back over to the car. Deb brought me hot sweet tea and wrapped a blanket round my shaking shoulders, and hugged me to keep me warm while I mumbled rubbish.

  ‘I should ring Leigh,’ I was just starting to say, when Silver came back again.

  ‘It’s gonna be okay, kiddo,’ he said, and then the policewoman who’d been with Glasses arrived with a plastic bag. As she gave it to him, I saw her shoot me a look so full of pity it was almost obscene.

  ‘Why didn’t you find him before? When we were looking at the lighthouse? I told you about the cottage the other day,’ I asked numbly.

  ‘They weren’t in this cottage at the time, Jess, I swear. It was searched from top to bottom; they all were. We think they were in another rental property over the road.’ Silver pointed at a cluster of buildings behind us. ‘We’re tracing the owner now. I know you’re in shock, Jessica,’ he went on, ‘but I need you to be strong, all right? Can you cope with helping me some more?’ and I nodded dumbly because Louis was still gone, and I still had to get him back, and then Silver pulled something from the clear bag he held. A long, blonde wig. Then something else: a tiny knitted cardigan that had been in Louis’s changing bag when he’d disappeared.

  ‘That’s Louis’s top,’ I mumbled through dry lips, and Silver nodded and said, ‘We thought as much,’ but when I held out my hand for it, he held it back and said, ‘I’m sorry, kiddo, we need it for Forensics,’ and suddenly I couldn’t breathe.

  I tried, oh God I tried, I fought for breath but my chest felt like someone had knelt on it, and I spilt my tea all down myself. I scrabbled for my spray but it wouldn’t work this time, and I was wheezing like a steam train, and Deb was trying to help me, but I still couldn’t breathe, someone was smothering me, squeezing all the air out, and then just for a second it all went black.

  For the second time that day I couldn’t think where the hell I was, and when I tried to sit upright the oxygen mask across my face held me back. A paramedic with a kind, bovine face leant over me and smiled at me and said, ‘Don’t panic, love. You’re in the ambulance with me.’ He removed the mask and said, ‘Good to see you back, girlie. How’re you feeling now?’ and Deb was suddenly there, taking my hand. And then I remembered that Robbie was dead, like a huge cosh round my head again.

  The paramedic checked me over, and said he thought I’d be okay, and Deb could take me home again. But I didn’t want to go to my empty house, not while Louis was still gone, not while he might be so near. Not with—I balked at the thought. Not with Robbie lying alone in some dingy mortuary down here. So Deb went off, and came back to say they’d take me to the hotel where I’d stayed the other night. She said Leigh had been informed about Robbie’s death; a colleague had been round to see her and then Deb had spoken to Leigh on the phone, and she was going to let my poor mum know. My mum. I couldn’t even bear to imagine her pain.

  At the hotel, Deb ran me a hot bath. I tried to sneak a beer out of the rattling old minibar while she ordered us some sandwiches but Deb wouldn’t let me drink it; she thought it’d make me ill on top of the painkillers I’d been given. So I lay in the bath, a bath so hot it scalded me, as if it would purge me somehow, strip me of my sorrow; and all I thought about was Robbie. My eyes were gritty and unseeing now above the steam; and what I felt was guilt. The most terrible, gut-wrenching remorse and guilt.

  When I finally clambered out of the water, so red I looked like I’d been flayed alive, I felt sick to my stomach with grief—and I was far too scared to go to bed. How could I ever sleep again; I’d just keep seeing Robbie lying in the dark, or Louis hidden in some cupboard. So Deb stayed with me, and we sat together on the double bed and drank more tea, and watched some rubbish TV for a while. And finally I rang Leigh. I’d put it off because I couldn’t bear to say the words, to hear them out loud. She was sleepless too, chain-smoking, frigid with shock at first, just like I’d known she would be. She’d spoken to my mum.

  ‘She’s coming back with George. She’s—well, it’s not worth you trying to talk to her now, Jess, anyway. You’ve got enough on your plate. She’s in bits. At least—’ Leigh’s voice faltered and I knew she was trying to hold back her tears.

  ‘At least what?’

  ‘At least’, her lighter clicked again, ‘he might be at peace now.’ She took a deep and steadying draw in. ‘Christ, Jess. I can’t believe how much he fucked it up.’

  ‘Leave it, Leigh, for now—can you?’

  ‘But—’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘I feel so bloody guilty, Jess,’ she whispered, and I heard her voice break.

  ‘I know what you mean,’ I said. And then there was a pause, until she cleared her throat. ‘And Louis?’

  I took a sip of my tea; I steadied myself. ‘I dunno. Silver’s out there still, they’re all out there looking for him. Did Deb tell you, they found his cardigan?’

  ‘Yes, thank God. So they know he’s near at least.’

  ‘Or—’ My throat constricted.

  ‘What, Jess?’

  ‘Or at least, he was near. Maxine’s completely vanished.’

  ‘Bloody bitch.’ Then, in a small voice, she said, ‘I wanted to tell you something. I did try the other day. It was—I took Maxine down there, you know.’

  I didn’t understand. ‘What? Down where?’

  ‘Down to Birling Gap. A few weeks ago, you remember, when you went to have your hair done. When I took the kids and Maxine to the seaside for the day.’

  I thought of all the sand rattling round the baby bag at the Tate. ‘Oh, I see. Oh God, Leigh. Do you think she was planning it then?’

  ‘I don’t know, babe. Christ, something else for me to feel shit about.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. If it hadn’t been here, it’d have been somewhere else.’

  ‘Yeah. Suppose. I’ve told DI Silver anyway.’

  Another pause. I couldn’t bear to hang up. ‘Oh God, Leigh. I can’t get Robbie out of my head. I’m never going to get him out of my head.’

  ‘I know, babe. But you’ve got to keep on being strong, for Louis’s sake. Not long now, I’m sure of it. Just think of that.’

  There was silence on the line then, but it was a nice kind of quiet. Eventually we said goodbye. I had to face my demons some time.

  ‘After all,’ I said to Deb, ‘if I’m getting Louis back soon, I’ll need my sleep.’

  She tried to match my false smile, but I felt the concern behind the kindly façade. She hugged me quickly. ‘Try and get a good night’s sleep.’

  I grimaced.

  ‘Just try. I’ll see you in the morning. Call me if you need me, though.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  And so eventually I lay on my bed, in the dark, with just my headache for company. Through the open curtains I watched some little lights that flickered quite frantically out at sea, u
p and down they went, bouncing up and down. A storm was surely brewing. I thought of Robbie and my stomach twisted; of how cold he’d felt, and an awful pain gripped my heart. I should have known, I should have seen. I could have saved my brother. I’d been so caught up with Louis, I’d let poor Robbie down. Grief roared in my ears until I was on the verge of screaming to drown the sound—and then, suddenly, there was a gentle tap on the door.

  Silver stood there, silhouetted, yawning.

  ‘I just came to see if you were all right.’ His short hair was ruffled. ‘Can I come in for a sec?’ he said, but he was already in by now. I went back and lay on the bed; I didn’t speak because I didn’t know what to say. He hovered by my feet.

  ‘We’re getting closer, Jess, I swear,’ and I turned over so he couldn’t see my face. Slowly, he took his shoes off and, without speaking, he lay down on the bed. He was tentative; he was fully clothed. We lay there side by side, and I stared at an invisible ceiling with hot, dry eyes, tensing my body against his anticipated touch, a touch that in truth I really longed for; and then, finally, he moved. He gathered me into his arms, and I was still as stiff as an ironing-board, considered turning away, but in the end I didn’t. Couldn’t. Couldn’t turn away from him. Was I betraying my loved ones-Louis, Robbie, Mickey? I didn’t know—I didn’t care any more. I just knew it felt curiously right to be lying here with Silver.

  Spindly rain began to lash the windows, and gradually I gave in, muscle by sore muscle, and gently he just held me until I’d relaxed a bit. I buried my face in his shirt, which smelt faintly of lemons, and tried to close my eyes, to block out the ghosts that whispered through my brain.

  ‘I should have helped him, Silver. I could have done,’ I said, and then the tears came. ‘I can’t believe he’s gone.’

  Silver murmured ‘Shhh’ into my hair, until I’d sobbed myself to sleep.

 

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