Last Gasp

by Robert F Barker

  Hill spun round on the youth. Carver could see he was close to losing it. ‘If I’d assaulted you, you wouldn’t be shouting about it, you little shit.’

  ‘Thanks Paul,’ Carver said. As the detective turned back to him Carver threw him a meaningful look before turning to the youth he’d been berating. ‘Russell. Calm down and do as you’re told. I’ll speak to you in a minute.’ He didn’t wait for a response but said to Hill, ‘Where’s Rita?’ Hill nodded towards the kitchen. ‘Ok. I’ll see you outside in a few minutes?’

  Hill got the message. As he turned to leave, he gave Russell one last warning look.

  Russell mouthed, ‘Fuck off,’ before dropping into the couch next to his brother.

  The kitchen was full of women and kids. Most were in tears. The mother, Paula Lee, was sitting at the far end of the long table Rita had scrounged off Social Services weeks before so the family had somewhere they could all get around for family conferences. It was still too early to hope they may one day use it for eating together. A big woman with greasy hair, Paula’s saggy arms were draped around a couple of the younger girls who were cuddling into her. There were tears and sobs a-plenty. Kayleigh, herself was stood off to her left, leaning against a worktop, hands cupping a steaming mug. She was wearing flowery-patterned pyjamas. The top was stained with dark red patches.

  At fifteen, Kayleigh was the eldest of the five girls. Slim and dark, like her father, her black hair was growing out of the punkish style she’d worn the last time he’d seen her. As Carver entered, she turned him a resigned look that seemed to say, ‘Here we go again.’ He could see she’d been crying, though right now she seemed in control. Good. Whatever she’d done tonight, he would need her if they were going to sort this lot out.

  To Carver, Kayleigh was still something of an enigma. When the Government launched their ‘Problem Families Initiative’, the Lees were number one on almost every agency’s list; Police, Local Council, Social Services. And it quickly became clear to all that if the Lee Family Project was to ever achieve its aims, Kayleigh’s part would be vital. One of those kids whose existence seems to run contrary to both sides of the nature/nurture debate, she was the one family member everyone else was prepared to listen to. Mature beyond her years, intelligent and committed to the project from the start, she’d brokered truces from stalemates on several occasions, both within the family and with the ‘participating agencies’. During early case meetings, Carver had mused on how, if it weren’t for the slightly weaselled features that echoed her father, he’d have put her as the product of one of her mother’s once-notorious sexual escapades. There had been times the past six months when, seeing her in action, fighting to hold together a family who sometimes questioned both her motives and loyalty, he’d felt like taking her by the hand and leading her out of the nightmare that was the Lee household. Now, as he noted the calm-but-sad expression that said she was resigned to whatever outcome fate had in store for her this night, he felt it again.

  At the end of the table, her back to him, a colourfully-dressed black woman with an abundance of braided hair turned as she heard him come in. Seeing him, Rita Arogundade, Lead Case Worker for the Lee Family Project, rose from her chair.

  ‘We need to talk,’ she said, motioning to the back door.

  The lack of greeting didn’t surprise Carver. Rita always preferred action to words. He following her out into the garden, closed the door. They could still see by the light through the kitchen window. She got straight to it.

  ‘I hope you’re going to be able to sort this.’

  Her expression was serious and Carver returned her a neutral one. What she’d meant was, ‘You are going to sort this.’

  ‘Give me the story, then I’ll tell you if I can. First, where’s Stuart and how is he?’

  ‘He’s upstairs with the paramedics and a couple of yours. He’s got a hole in his stomach which they think is probably superficial but can’t be sure. He’s refusing hospital. They’re trying to convince him.’

  ‘Good luck to that,’ Carver said. Since childhood, Stuart Lee had trained himself to never cooperate with anyone wearing a uniform.

  Over the next two minutes, Rita summarised what she’d learned since she’d answered the phone at two-o-clock to hear Kayleigh’s quivering voice saying, ‘I’ve stabbed me dad.’

  The previous evening, Stuart and Paula had argued over Benny, the youngest boy, four, continuing to see the child psychologist. ‘Stuart hates her guts,’ Rita offered. ‘You know what he’s like.’ Carver nodded but said nothing. Losing the argument with Paula, as he always did, Stuart had reverted to norm and taken himself off to The Cricketers. There he’d proceeded to fall off the wagon, returning home at midnight drunk out of his skull and high on something. When Paula saw the state he was in, it all kicked off like it used to in the old days. The kids got involved and, as always happened, the family divided along gender lines. The girls blamed Stuart, the lads sought to defend him. Kayleigh tried to call a conference, but by then Stuart was too far gone to listen, so were most of them. Things spiralled out of control and eventually Stuart just blew and went for Paula. He put his hands round her throat and pushed her down into the kitchen table. The kids tried to prise them apart but couldn’t get him off. Stuart was wiry, but strong. Paula began turning blue. Kayleigh thought he really was going to kill her this time.

  ‘She picked up a knife and tried to warn him. When he didn’t stop, she stabbed him.’

  ‘Where?’ Carver said.

  Rita pointed up and under her right ribs.

  Carver sucked air. ‘Lucky he’s still alive.’

  ‘She says she only pricked him enough to get him to pay attention.’

  ‘Let’s hope so. But he needs to be checked out properly.’

  ‘He’s saying he’s not going anywhere until he knows no-one’s going to take Kayleigh away.’

  ‘So he’s come round a bit?’

  ‘Oh God, yeah. The neighbours called the police and I got here just as your guys did. He was like-’ Rita affected Stuart’s nasally whine. It was remarkably accurate- ‘“It’s all my fault. Kayleigh was only protecting her ma. If you want to arrest someone, arrest me. I tried to kill her.” Tears. Pleas for God’s forgiveness. The lot. I don’t think your people know who to arrest. That’s why I called you.’

  Carver nodded. ‘Thanks.’

  Rita lowered her voice. Carver knew what she was thinking even before she said it.

  ‘If we don’t get this right, Jamie, the whole project could go down the pan.’

  He nodded again. ‘How’s Paula?’

  ‘She’s got a nice set of finger marks round her throat, but she doesn’t want to make a complaint either.’

  ‘Great.’ Carver tipped his head back to look up at the sky. It was cloudy. No stars.

  The one thing Carver didn’t have right now was time to spend trying to keep the project afloat. Rita was the most dedicated Case Worker he’d ever come across. But if things went bad, she would need his full support in getting them back on track. He turned back to her. ‘Stay with the girls. I need to speak with Stuart.’

  He found Stuart Lee in the front bedroom, sitting on the marital bed that people quipped ought to be doing time for all the trouble it had caused. He was still resisting the efforts of the two paramedics, a man and woman, to let them take him to hospital to get checked out. They both looked pissed off. A uniformed sergeant and another detective were doing their best to lend weight to the paramedics’ pleas. As Carver entered they all seemed to take a step back.

  ‘I tell you. I’m fucking okay. It’s only a scratch.’

  The slurred speech and wild expression told Carver he was still under the influence of whatever he’d taken. It wasn’t going to be easy.

  Seeing Carver, Stuart renewed his resistance. ‘T’ank God you’re here, Mr Carver. Tell I’m okay. I don’t need ‘em.’

  Carver leaned in, saw the blooded tee-shirt on the floor, the dressing the medics had managed to p
ut over the wound in his side. It was still seeping. ‘You need to go to Hospital, Stuart. If you slip off the plate, Kayleigh will be in big trouble.’

  Anguish flooded his dark features. ‘No-no-no. It wasn’t her fault. She’s a good girl.’ He appealed to Carver. ‘You won’t let them take her, will you Mr Carver? Your boys want to lock her up but I told ‘em, “No.” She was just looking after her Ma, that’s all.’ He tried to stand, shrugging off the medic’s efforts to help. He turned towards the door.

  Carver stepped forward and raised his voice. ‘Look at me, Stuart.’ He managed to grab his attention. ‘My boys will do what I tell them to do. Right now I need you to behave. If you go to the hospital, I’ll sort things out here.’

  He calmed some, eyes narrowing as if gauging how far he could trust the man who’d arrested him more times than Carver cared to remember. Not that pissed then, Carver thought.

  ‘Do you swear, Mr Carver? Swear you won’t let them take my Kayleigh away.’

  Carver looked him in the eye. ‘I promise I won’t let them take Kayleigh away.’

  ‘In that case I’ll go. But I want to speak to me family first.’ Turning to the door he shouted down the stairs. ‘I CALL A CONFERENCE.’

  Carver groaned, inside. ‘Now’s not the time Stuart. We need to get you to Hospital. You can do all that when you get back.’

  He sat back down on the bed. ‘I’m not going anywhere until we’ve had, a FUCKING CONFERENCE.’

  Carver checked the medic’s faces. They looked bewildered. He wasn’t surprised.

  The right to call a Family Conference was one of the project’s key underpinning principles. Any family member, kids included, could do so at any time. If one was called, everyone else was obliged to attend. He weighed options. If Stuart’s injuries were serious, a struggle could see him off. Right now he appeared to be holding up. He gave an exasperated shrug.

  ‘Okay. But it’ll be short. Then you’re off to hospital.’

  Ten minutes later Carver stood in the kitchen, watching, with the same sense of disbelief as always, the weird phenomenon that was a Lee Family Conference.

  Twelve months ago, if someone had suggested that a family like the Lees would one day sit round a table talking about their problems like some debating society, Carver would have called them crazy. Now, as he listened to Stuart Lee baring his soul and seeking his family’s forgiveness for the behaviour that had brought the Project closer to disaster than at any time since it began, he wondered how much stranger things could get. As amazing as the actual ‘conference’ itself, was the fact that despite the events of that evening, they were still, largely, playing by the rules. At that moment, Stuart was holding up a green plastic card. It meant he had the floor, and while the card stayed up, no one could interrupt. Around the table Carver could see at least two other members of the family, Billy and Izzie, the next eldest girl after Kayleigh, holding up orange cards. At the head of the table, Rita, acting as chair, nodded to show that she had noted their wish to speak.

  Carver still had no idea whether Rita’s novel approach to sorting out the family’s deep-rooted communication problems had anything more than a snowball’s chance in hell of continuing in the longer term. Part of him still suspected that what he was seeing was simply the rational response of a group of devious individuals who recognised that as long as they showed they were willing to ‘play the game,’ they would continue to receive the support – and associated benefits – that came with inclusion in, The Troubled Families Programme. He often wondered what sort of mayhem erupted after the likes of Rita and he departed. That said, according to Kayleigh, conferences had taken place with only family present - and more or less according to the rules.

  When Rita had first outlined the concept, everyone - family, other agency staff even Carver himself, though privately - had derided the idea. Carver’s first thoughts were that it was just another example of the sort of liberal theorising social workers come up with from time to time. The disasters that were Rita’s first attempts at ‘family conferencing’ supported that view. But then, over the space of a few weeks - Rita was unshakeable in her belief she could get it to work - Carver was amazed to see changes taking place. As the family as a whole started to grasp that in order to stand any chance at all of addressing their own problems - emotional, practical and financial - they had to learn to communicate. And they had to do it in a way so that everyone, from eldest to youngest, had a voice. He’d confessed to being ‘gob-smacked’ the day he turned up at Carnegie Avenue to find everyone apart from Russell - away doing his Community Service - sitting around and holding up coloured cards as they waited their turn to speak. Of course there were some - mainly those not directly involved with the Project - prepared to state that the whole thing was a, ‘load of crap’ and that the Lees were merely acting out a charade to keep the Police and combined Social Services off their back. Time would tell. For now, Carver was willing to go with anything that kept things on any sort of even keel.

  At that moment, having spent the last five minutes describing the pressure he’d felt himself under these past few weeks, Stuart Lee paused in his mea-culpa and lowered his green card. Rita nodded to Izzie, who raised hers.

  ‘I want to say, it’s not just you, Dad that’s under pressure. Mum’s under pressure to. She’s the one has to argue with you every night to stop you going out and getting pissed.’

  Stuart half-rose and started to open his mouth to respond, but Rita stopped him with a raised finger. ‘Ah-ah.’

  As Stuart sank back, Carver shook his head. Incredible. Izzie continued.

  ‘And that applies to the rest of us as well. We’ve all been trying hard.’ She turned to send her eldest brother a pointed look. Her voice lowered. ‘Even him.’

  ‘What’s that mean?’ Russell said, trying to sound innocent.

  ‘You know,’ Izzie said, her tone accusing.

  On the surface, relations between the older kids – boys and girls – seemed much improved. But Carver was aware of the undercurrents. Some of the old tensions were still there. He had his thoughts on their origins, but resisted probing. There were enough bags of worms as it was.

  ‘And I just want to say that if Kayleigh hadn’t done what she did, Mum would be dead right now.’

  The other girls joined in a chorus of, ‘Yeah’s.

  As Izzie lowered her green card, Rita nodded to Billy.

  ‘You’ve all got to stop having a go at Dad. He’s the one who said we should do all this in the first place.’

  Or face prison, Carver thought.

  ‘We’ve all said things are better now than they were.’ Billy turned to Kayleigh. So far she’d said nothing. ‘I don’t blame you for what you did to Dad. You had to do something.’ He turned to look round at Carver. ‘And if the Police try to have a go at you, it just shows what I’ve always said. They’d rather just see us all put away.’

  Carver stayed silent. As an outsider he had no voice. But Billy was right. Carver knew plenty who thought exactly that.

  As Billy lowered his card, silence fell for the first time since they’d gathered. Carver knew why. They were waiting. He knew what for. Eventually, Kayleigh cleared her throat. About to speak, she remembered, and lifted her card.

  ‘Billy’s right. Everyone’s been trying really, really, hard. But there’s still too much sniping going on. I know why, and I understand it.’ At this point she stared, hard, at the table, as if to stop herself looking at certain faces. ‘But that’s all in the past and none of us want to see it being dragged up again now.’ Carver shot a glance at Russell. His face was puce. ‘The bottom line is, if we want Rita to keep doing what she’s been doing.’ Her eyes flicked towards Carver. ‘And Mr Carver too, then we have to try harder to help each other when we know someone is struggling. Like Dad tonight. We should have called a conference before he went out, not after.’ Stuart Lee started nodding, suddenly sage-like. ‘Whatever happens now we’ve all got to stick together. There are those will say
that what happened tonight was typical Lees. Always trying to kill each other. They’ll try to use it to close us down. We mustn’t let that happen.’ She turned to her father. ‘I’m sorry for what I did to Dad, but I don’t regret it. I’ll always defend any member of my family, even if it’s from other family. And for all that’s been said, the police haven’t arrested anyone, and I don’t think they’re going to. Are you Mr Carver?’

  As every head turned to see Carver’s response, his thought was, You crafty little bugger.

  Carver slid the hand-written document bearing Kayleigh Lee’s signature into the buff folder containing the statements that had been taken from the other family members, and sat back in his chair. He checked his watch. Ten past six. Too late to think about going back to bed. He rubbed at his eyes. Nearly done. When he opened them again he found Kayleigh’s steady gaze, waiting. For several seconds he returned her stare, letting her see he had nothing to hide. Carver thought that by now, Kayleigh was close to believing she could trust him. Probably around ninety percent. The missing ten was the legacy of what she and her family had received from the police over the years. He would love to see the scale reach the hundred mark, but there was a limit to what he could do. Only time and experience would bring that about. Tonight would be a big test. Eventually he saw her take a deep breath.

  ‘So you’re saying, that’s it? There’ll be no come-backs after tonight?’

  He nodded. ‘No come-backs.’

  ‘Don’t you have to report it to someone? The CPS?’

  So on the ball. ‘They’ll go with my recommendation. They’re part of the project as well, remember’

  ‘And my Dad won’t be done for attacking mum?’

  ‘So long as your mum doesn’t want it.’

  ‘And if she changes her mind?’

  He gave a reassuring smile. ‘If she did, I think that would be the end of it all, don’t you?’

  She thought about it. ‘S’pose…’

  He waited, giving her time. ‘Anything else?’