Don't Tell Meg Trilogy Box Set

by Paul J. Teague

  ‘They’ve got you in a tabloid sting haven’t they, the fuckers?’

  Alex’s face reddened. We crossed over the road and took a bench in one of the wooden shelters which populated the promenade. She sighed as she sat down.

  ‘Okay, hands up. You’re right. I’ve known this was coming for some time. I was pretty well sacked from Crime Beaters. They couldn’t see me out of the door fast enough. Those shits from HR, you’d think they’d show a bit of loyalty. Instead, I had to sit through a load of bollocks about brand identity, family viewing and positive role models.’

  I held Alex’s hand. I couldn’t remember seeing her so angry.

  ‘It’s made me rethink everything, Pete. Why did I ever want to be on TV anyway? The intrusion and lack of privacy is appalling.’

  ‘I take it you’ve spoken to lawyers?’ I asked, knowing already what the answer was likely to be.

  ‘Yep, that’s the only reason they’ve held off this long. I’m not very interesting really. I’m not married or in a relationship. We got statements from the four escorts that I used, confirming that no sexual activity took place in their visits. Can you imagine how humiliating that is, Pete? It’s nobody’s fucking business but my own. You remember all the libel stuff we did at college? I never thought I’d get to learn it all so well. I confided in HR and they showed me the door. Bastards.’

  ‘What are we like?’ I said, deciding to lighten the mood. ‘There’s me with my sex tape and you with your escorts. Who’d ever have thought this is how we’d end up?’

  ‘There has to be a mole in the police somewhere, Pete. Someone leaked those pictures of you. Charlie will have his contacts all over the place, but that’s come from police evidence.’

  The thought of my sex tape with Becky being leaked in any way horrified me.

  ‘I don’t think he’ll publish that tape, Pete. He’s using it to get you to speak to him. He’s trying to write a story – they have a paper to fill tomorrow morning. Recording that video was against the law. If they publish a piece of revenge porn, they’ll get hauled over the coals.’

  Alex sighed.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the full truth, Pete. I was going to, honestly, but I needed to deliver the news in instalments. It’s so humiliating.’

  I squeezed her hand again.

  ‘I know what it’s like to be lonely. That’s why I slept with Becky. When you’ve been in relationships all your life, it’s hard to go back to a single bed. I desperately missed the company.’

  ‘It was you I missed, Pete. You and me is all I’ve ever known as a steady relationship. It was good, wasn’t it? Why did we fuck it up?’

  ‘It was losing the baby that messed it up, Alex. We were young, we had exciting things happening in our careers. But we stayed friends, right? Something good came out of it.’

  ‘You know how I feel, Pete. If you’re ever ready to give it another chance, there’s never been a better time, let’s face it. Once your sex tape knocks Paris Hilton’s off the top of the charts and my escort pictures launch my career in porn, nobody else will want to touch us anyway.’

  I snorted at that one. My stomach churned just thinking of all my colleagues at the radio station gathering round to watch my video on somebody’s PC, tittering at the sight of my arse bobbing up and down. The humiliation of it.

  ‘How much will this mess things up for you on telly, Alex?’

  ‘I think we can say goodbye to Crime Beaters for the foreseeable future, but my agent reckons it will only take a well-timed appearance on a reality show to make everybody forget it. Maybe I could tell my version of the story on a chat show, shed a few tears, and the tide could turn back in my favour.’

  ‘Can you face all that?’ I asked.

  ‘Not really, Pete. In many ways it’s been the kick up the behind I needed. These photos are just part of a bigger problem. How can I build serious relationships in an environment of constant intrusion? I can’t.

  ‘And I want to have kids, Pete. I want to have a life with someone else. I can’t do that if I’m on the telly all the time. It’s not fair to put anybody through that.’

  We sat in silence for a while, watching the trams as they made their way up and down the promenade. My Sunday hadn’t turned out to be quite so boring after all. And there were still surprises to come. Steven Terry’s performance was only four hours away, and that would turn everything on its head once again.

  Chapter Nine

  1992 The story was all over the newspapers. First the local and then the national newspapers picked it up.

  ‘They seem to be convinced that something was going on at the home,’ Mavis said to Tom as she examined that day’s paper. Were you aware of any of this? It seems incredible.’

  Tom maintained his silence, pretending to have a problem opening the marmalade jar. This was going to be tricky for him. He had to think of the welfare of the girls. They were safe, the adoption was complete, but that wouldn’t stop social services coming for them if there was a whiff of a problem.

  The allegations were vague as it involved children, but most readers with any experience of the world could fill in the blanks.

  ‘Why was Bob Taylor here that night, Tom?’ Meg asked. They still used Tom rather than Dad. Meg wasn’t certain that she was ready to call him Dad.

  The question caught Tom unawares. He’d thought that he had managed to brush the topic away.

  ‘Have one of the children said something? Did Gary Maxwell get called out at last? That bastard!’

  ‘Meg! Enough of that language!’ Mavis scolded.

  Tom shuffled in his seat and made a big deal of finishing a mouthful of toast. He paused for a moment, but figured that the game was up. It was in the newspapers now; there was only so long he could keep it quiet. They’d want to interview the girls anyway. Mavis would need to know everything.

  ‘I didn’t tell you everything about that night,’ he said, looking sheepishly at his wife. ‘I wanted to protect you as long as possible, but it’s going to hit us eventually.’

  ‘What is?’ Mavis asked, already annoyed that he’d not told her everything about Bob’s visit.

  ‘Bob and I have agreed to tell them everything that we saw at the home. Bob has been thinking about it for a long time, but he’s finally decided to do something. He made an official complaint. When we’re called to the inquiry, we’re not going to hold anything back—’

  ‘And just what is it that you saw?’

  Tom looked across the table, first to Meg, then to Hannah. The girls had barely discussed it between themselves. It was a part of their life that they compartmentalised. How could they even begin to articulate it?

  ‘Gary Maxwell is not a nice man,’ Tom continued. ‘I do know that he can be a nasty piece of work. I’ve also seen some things ... things that, um ... things that didn’t seem right to me.’

  ‘What?’ Mavis asked. ‘What did you see, Tom? Are you caught up in this? Please tell me this doesn’t involve the girls.’

  ‘I had nothing to do with it, love, but I am going to have to give evidence. When Bob came that night he wanted to be sure that I’d be backing him up. He thinks that Maxwell was up to something with the older children. I saw ... I possibly saw some evidence of that.’

  Meg glared at him across the table.

  ‘The girls will need to speak to the inquiry as well. They’ll need to explain what they saw and what they knew. There’s no getting out of it.’

  ‘And what do they know? What happened there, girls? Did that Maxwell man hurt either of you?’

  How do you talk about something so horrific that you can’t even admit it to yourself? How do you share a shame that poisons your entire body, right down to your blood and bones? Meg and Hannah looked at each other. It was an unspoken terror, but they were safe from it now.

  ‘Gary Maxwell was a horrible man, but he never hurt us ... directly,’ Hannah began, ‘but there are things that we can say about Gary that won’t look good for him. W
e’ll talk when our turn comes, won’t we, Meg? We’ll tell them.’

  Meg nodded. This was their chance to avenge David’s death and to get justice for Jacob. They’d tell them everything. But not now. They’d do it when they had to. They couldn’t talk about it yet. It was too raw. They still weren’t sleeping through the night. They were still waiting for the bedroom door to open in the darkness, to be taken away in that minibus.

  Meg stood up and left the table.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said, rushing up the stairs for some solitude. She wanted this inquiry, but she almost dared not take part in it. It was going to be a huge struggle. When the time came could she say what had happened? She had to. Hannah too. Would they believe her? There would be a lot of intimidating people there. They had to find the strength to tell the truth, to make sure it never happened again.

  The girls were relying on Tom to say what he’d seen. They were just two young girls. Meg had been sleeping with David. She’d had a baby. They’d want to talk about that. Had Hannah been sleeping with Jacob? She didn’t even know. They were best friends – like real sisters now – but some things they didn’t talk about. Most of the youngsters in the home started sexual relationships young. It was the closeness they craved. They wanted to be close to someone who understood. They’d want to talk about all this at the inquiry. They’d call her a teenage mother. The suggestion would be that she was a slag. Everybody would know about her and David.

  As she sat on the lid of the toilet, locked in the bathroom, Meg wondered if she’d have the courage to speak up. Would Tom and Bob be able to say enough to stop what was going on at the home? Would they stand up for the youngsters there? What would the other kids say? They’d be as terrified as she was.

  The girls were right to be worried about how they’d be handled in the inquiry. The press were digging up dirt on everybody involved. It was a scramble to see who could discredit the young people fastest. Details of sexual activity among the youngsters, mild drug use, petty crime, and even prostitution made their way into the tabloids. There was information in there that even Meg and Hannah didn’t know. It seemed extremely unlikely that Gary Maxwell could survive.

  Russell Black was seen on local and national TV vowing to review procedures within the home to ensure the wellbeing of the young people in care there. But he was at pains to point out that the children involved were mostly over fifteen years of age, and that afforded them certain freedoms in life. It wasn’t a prison, after all.

  Debbie was referred to in press coverage as Child A. They all knew who it was, even though the papers couldn’t identify her. It wasn’t long before stories began to come out about Child A. Apparently Debbie Simmonds had been involved in a small way in prostitution. She’d taken money or drugs in exchange for sexual favours to men of various ages. A stash of cannabis was even found taped behind the wardrobe in the bedroom that she and Meg had shared. Meg found that unlikely. The wardrobe was old and heavy, and it was difficult to move. Debbie wasn’t a strong girl and, in any case, they hid things behind the drawers in their bedside tables if they wanted to conceal things from staff. She still had a packet of condoms taped to the back of her drawers from when David and she had been together. A fat lot of good they had done her.

  According to the papers, Debbie was known in a couple of the local shops for shoplifting. Out of kindness, the shop owners had never reported her – they knew she was troubled – but they were happy to share the revelations with the papers for a small token of financial recognition.

  Debbie was being discredited. She’d not even had time to speak formally to the inquiry and already they were painting her out to be somebody she wasn’t. Is this what they’d do to her and Hannah?

  A lot of senior people had their necks on the chopping block in this inquiry. Meg was too young to appreciate what that might drive them to do to protect reputations, marriages and incomes. But she was about to find out just how far they were willing to go to preserve the status quo.

  Alex and I were feeling unsettled by our encounter with Charlie Lucas. There was a feeling that something ugly had entered the room. What would he uncover next? Or threaten?

  We easily managed to kill the rest of the day, wandering up and down the seafront, watching the sea, admiring the tower and sitting in a café for an hour or so. Before we knew it, it was time for Steven’s show.

  I hadn’t looked at my phone for some time, but as I entered the Winter Gardens, I remembered to make sure that I had the sound switched off.

  I’d missed a couple of messages.

  ‘Hannah’s got back to me on Skype. She’s suggested we catch up for a chat asap.’

  ‘I think that would be a good thing,’ Alex replied. ‘Maybe it’s time to push her on what happened. I don’t think she’s giving you the full story.’

  ‘DCI Summers has texted me too. She’s a bit pissed at me for walking into that meeting when I was at the cop shop. She’s down here for a few days and is suggesting that we meet somewhere in town for a coffee and a catch-up. What do you think? Is tomorrow okay?’

  ‘Yeah, you bet!’ Alex replied. ‘I’d love to know what she’s doing down here. It happens all the time, cops helping other cops on cases which travel. I wonder why she’s down in Blackpool all of a sudden.’

  ‘Oh bollocks, I’ve missed one from work. It’s from Mark, my new boss. I’d better call him before we go in. How are we for time?’

  ‘They’ve started ringing the bells to say the show is starting soon. I’d make it quick if I were you.’

  ‘I dialled Mark’s work mobile and he picked up straight away.

  ‘Hi Pete, sorry to call you while you’re off. I need you in tomorrow. Can you do an interview for me?’

  ‘Is it the murder? Who have we got?’

  ‘Tony Dodds’ wife wants to speak to us. And it’s only us that she’s doing an interview with. We have to get the audio ready and share with the other media outlets, but it’s our exclusive. We get the credit. I want you to do it.’

  ‘Yes, sure, but is nobody else around to do it?’

  ‘I want someone senior on it, Pete. No youngsters. She needs handling properly. This interview is going to TV and the nationals. I don’t want it screwed up.’

  ‘No pressure then!’ I laughed. ‘What time is it?’

  I thought about Bob Taylor. We wanted to catch him early the next day. Most exclusive interviews were saved for the breakfast show.

  ‘Ten o’clock, at her home. Just you and one engineer can go in. I’ve asked Pat to do it – he’ll be there from nine to get the satellite vehicle set up. It’s live into the ten o’clock news. You get ten minutes, and then it’s done.’

  I was relieved that she hadn’t gone for an early slot. If we got to Bob first thing on Monday morning, I’d be able to make my way to the interview, and then catch DCI Summers afterwards. I wanted to talk to Tony Dodds’ widow. That was access I was very happy to have.

  ‘Not the breakfast show?’ I asked Mark.

  ‘No, we pushed her, but she said 10 o’clock. She’ll have a legal adviser there too, so expect to be leant on over the questions. Save anything controversial until the last few minutes, and make sure we at least get five minutes of usable audio from her for syndication.’

  ‘No problem. I’ll be there in plenty of time before ten. Can you text me the address? I’m about to go in for a show at the Winter Gardens.’

  I ended the call.

  ‘It’s already started,’ Alex said. ‘We’ll have to creep in.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, scanning the address that Mark had texted. It was Lytham St Annes, the posh part of town. Tony Dodds must have been loaded – he was a former chief constable after all.

  I tucked my phone into my back pocket and we made our way through the fire doors into the auditorium. Poor Steven, it was full enough to warrant doing a show in there, but he’d done the sensible thing and asked the audience to move into the front seats, rather than having to perform to a theatre where the
entire audience was patchy and spread out. The lighting had been changed from the first show we saw. They’d left the empty seats at the back dark and the front seats were lit up. He saw us coming in and looking for a seat and gave us a short wave to acknowledge our presence.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is all rather cosy, don’t you think? It reminds me of the more intimate shows that I used to do before my book came out and things started to get really busy. I want to thank you all for your support tonight, after the story in the press. And I want to apologise to you all for having to reschedule this show ...’

  He was good. A real pro. The lighting and the rearranged seating worked really well; it felt as if we were in a smaller venue. He’d acknowledged the news story, dealt with it and dismissed it. Then he got on with the show. I was liking Steven Terry more and more as I got to know the man better. I was embarrassed to recall how quickly I’d dismissed him as a charlatan when we’d first met.

  Steven walked to the edge of the stage, and then sat down with his feet dangling over the side.

  ‘I want to talk a little more about the events in the newspapers this weekend,’ he said, ‘because I know that they will hit this community hard. And also, I sense that there are people here tonight who came specifically because of my involvement with it.’

  Now this was getting interesting. I’d assumed he’d mention it and then move on, but he was going to make a big deal of it. He jumped up and ran to the side of the stage, walking down the steps towards the audience. The spotlight followed him as he looked into the crowd.

  ‘You, sir!’ he shouted. ‘You were not intending to be here tonight, were you? But you were drawn to this place. May I ask why you came? You are closely connected with this news story ... I think you were even involved. Is that correct?’

  The spotlight was shining on the man. Even in that stage lighting I could see that he was uncomfortable with what Steven was doing. It was par for the course in a Steven Terry show, but this appeared to be unwelcome.