by Andy McNab
Last time I’d found her in the hidey-hole I’d taken her hand and guided her gently out. Then I’d picked her up in my arms and held her tight as I carried her into the kitchen. She was trembling so much I couldn’t tell if her head was nodding or shaking. When we drove away from the house a bit later, she was almost rigid with shock.
Dr Hughes had told me some things early on in her treatment, which felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. ‘Kelly has been forced to learn early lessons about loss and death, Mr Stone. How does a seven-year-old, as she was then, understand murder? A child who witnesses violence has been shown that the world is a dangerous and unpredictable place. She has told me that she doesn’t think she’ll ever again feel safe going outside. It’s nobody’s fault, but her experience has made her think that the adults in her life are unable to protect her. She believes she must take the responsibility herself – a prospect that causes her great anxiety.’
We walked over to the swing and she wiggled about to get comfortable on the rubber tyre seat as I lay on the grass beside her.
‘Push me, Nick?’
I got up and stood behind her. She sat there passively at first, not helping me with the momentum, then it seemed to come back to her.
‘What have you done to your finger?’ She had a plaster on the knuckle of her right index finger, and the skin below it looked red and sore.
‘I did something a bit silly in science. It’ll be fine.’
I pushed her in silence for a while. I liked it. It made me think of the great times I’d had in this backyard too.
‘First thing Dad used to do when he came home from work,’ she said. ‘He’d go and give Mom a kiss, then come out and play with us. It was good. Not all dads do that.’
‘Not all dads love their kids as much as he did.’
She liked that. ‘Mom used to bring us out cookies and Kool-Aid. Sometimes we’d all stay out here right until supper-time.’ She grinned. ‘We used to love it when you came visit. Mom would tell us to say thank you if you gave us candy, but to give it to her. She was the candy police.’ As she came back towards me her face went serious again and I slowed her to a stop, my head on her right shoulder as I listened. ‘I used to feel safer when you were here with Dad. Don’t you remember? Mom used to call you guys “my two strong men”. I was always worried when it was just him on his own because I knew people were after him.’
‘That was because he did his job so well.’
‘Did you work together?’
‘We were soldiers together in the army. When he married your mum he came here.’
She looked down at her trainers, then sharply up again, her blue eyes piercing mine. ‘Why did Mom and Aida have to die, Nick?’
We’d never talked about it. I somehow assumed she just knew, maybe that her grandparents or Dr Hughes or Josh had told her. I felt like I hadn’t explained the facts of life to her, and just hoped she’d pick them up on her own. Then again, maybe she did know and just wanted to hear me try to make sense of it one more time.
‘Your dad was one of the good guys. But his boss got mixed up with drug people and your dad found out. His boss killed him – and then he killed everybody who might be a witness.’
‘Mom and Aida?’
‘Yes.’
‘How come he didn’t kill me, Nick? How come I’m the one who got to stay alive?’
‘I don’t have those answers, Kelly. Maybe if the people had come into the house five minutes earlier or later, they’d have got you too.’
‘It would have saved everybody a lot of hassle.’
I lifted my head and walked round to face her. ‘Hey, don’t say things like that. Don’t even think things like that.’ Hunching down in front of her, I held both her hands.
‘Sometimes I feel so shit, Nick. Just kind of disconnected. Do you know what I mean?’
‘I spend most of my life feeling like that.’ I hesitated, drawing her close to me. ‘You know, I saw somebody die when I was eight.’
She sat up straight. ‘You did?’
I described the disused old factory building near our estate. The windows and doors had been boarded up and covered with barbed-wire, but that wasn’t going to keep us out. ‘There was an old sheet of corrugated iron nailed over the frame of a small door down an alleyway, but it was loose. We got in, up on to the roof. I remember puffing out hard and watching my breath form into a cloud.’ It had felt much colder thirty feet up than it had at ground level. ‘I walked to the edge of the roof and looked down at the pools of light underneath the lamp-posts. The street was deserted, there was no one around to see us. It was so peaceful. I’d never known the streets round my way be so quiet. And then there was a sound, a really horrible sound.’
‘What was it?’ She was pressing into my side.
‘Breaking glass. I turned and saw my three mates standing near one of the skylights. There should have been four.’
A split second later, there’d been a muffled thud from deep inside the building. ‘I knew even before I looked through the hole that John would be dead. We all did. We ran back to the roof hatch and down the stairs. He was lying very still, and we just scarpered.’
‘Did the police come?’
‘There were police swarming all around the flats the next day, but we made sure we all told the same story. We thought we were murderers. I’d never felt so scared.’
Kelly looked up at me. ‘Do you ever get scared now?’
‘All the time.’ I chanced a smile. ‘And before you ask, I have absolutely no plans to die until I’m very old.’
‘But no guarantees, right?’
‘Whoa, that’s one for Josh and his Bible college.’
She winced. ‘Not funny, Nick. I know you don’t care what happens to you, but I do. It really matters, you know? I mean, what if people come after you like they came after Dad? What happens to me then?’
I squatted down in front of her, our faces now level. ‘There’d be Josh. They all love you.’
‘I know that. But it’s you I need, Nick. Like I said, Mom used to call you and Dad her two strong men. Now there’s only one of you left.’ She let go of the ropes and touched my cheeks with surprisingly cold hands. ‘Will you be my strong man, Nick? Will you?’ There were tears in her eyes.
She took her hands out of mine and looked down at her trainers again before I could answer, which was just as well because I didn’t have a clue what to say. ‘There aren’t many places I’ve felt safe since . . . well, since I was on my own. I listed them to myself once. There’s the house in Norfolk. Remember, we put up that tent in the bedroom? You nailed it to the floor instead of pegs and I thought that was so cool. I loved that. Then there’s here – sometimes. And . . .’ She looked away. ‘That place you took me to . . .’
I gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘Dr Hughes?’
She nodded. ‘She understood.’
In the silence that followed, I realized it was time for me to start being her strong man. Josh was right. ‘Would you like to talk things over with her again?’
Her face lit up as if I’d thrown a switch. ‘Could I? I mean, how?’
‘The twin miracles of flight and Mastercard. We could be there tomorrow if we wanted.’
‘I’m supposed to be going to Josh’s Bible college on Friday and—’
I waved my hand. ‘Not a problem. Let’s go to England instead. I’m sure he’ll understand. We can go and see your grandparents, spend some time with Dr Hughes, spend some time together, just you and me.’
Practically falling off the tyre, she threw her arms round my neck and planted a huge kiss on my cheek. Her face was radiant. ‘I feel better already.’ Then she frowned. ‘How did you get here? Did Josh bring you?’
‘Yeah. He’s gone down to the stores for a coffee.’
‘He doesn’t know about Disneyland, does he?’
‘Our secret.’ I gave her a grin. ‘How do you get in anyway?’
‘I borrowed the key way back and got one cut, st
upid.’ She couldn’t stop smiling about it. ‘OK, let’s go.’
We walked around the backyard a bit as Kelly looked at the swing and then we locked up. A bird swooped across the grass and up into the sky, and I called Josh on my cell as we headed out of the driveway.
11
Bromley, UK
Thursday 8 May, 09:10 hrs
Kelly’s grandparents stood outside their 1980s bungalow, beneath a small wooden sign saying ‘The Sycamores’. Carmen was still fussing. ‘Have you got your key? We’re going to Safeway’s later.’
I dangled it at her as Kelly put on her seat-belt, the expression on her face as dull as the day outside. I started the engine and they waved us off as if we were leaving for ever, not just for the day. Carmen always got anxious when it came to departures. Apparently she hadn’t been the same since her sister, her only other flesh and blood, went on holiday to Australia soon after Carmen’s wedding and ending up marrying a guy in Sydney who had the money to buy his own house. Something like that, anyway – I’d glaze over when she got to the bit about Jimmy never really earning enough to buy a whole house in Bromley.
Carmen and Jimmy hadn’t changed at all since I’d last seen them quite a few years ago, and neither had anything in their lives. But I guess they must have been like that pretty much since they first got married and Jimmy started to work his bollocks off to keep Carmen up with the Australian Joneses. He still had the same nearly spotless fifteen-year-old Rover, and Carmen still kept the place as immaculate as a show-house. She still blamed me for her son’s murder, even though I hadn’t been there. We’d both been in the same line of work, and that was good enough for her. They were both still pissed off that Kev and Marsha had made Josh and me joint guardians of their kids in their will.
Kelly just sat there, not saying a word, staring out of the window at the busy streets. Josh was right about the mood-swings; right now she was so down I wasn’t sure she’d ever swing back, but then I remembered how far she’d come since I first found her. I wondered if it was something I’d said, or something she’d heard me saying to her grandparents. I’d always tried hard not to let her know what I really thought about them. This morning it was especially tough, because I’d overheard Jimmy agreeing with Carmen that Kelly’s problem was entirely my fault. Nothing to do with that nice man Josh: he’d taken her on out of the kindness of his heart, introduced her personally to God and given her lots of love and care. No, mark her words, none of this would have happened if I hadn’t insisted on looking after her myself in the beginning, and left her with that good Christian family instead. Well, tough shit. It had happened and, fuck it, they’d be dead soon, so they’d better get all their complaining in while they could. I caught a glimpse of myself grinning like an idiot in the rear-view mirror. Somehow Carmen and Jimmy really brought out the best in me.
We were just south of the Thames and passing a big McDonald’s. I felt a need to fill the silence. All I’d been getting for the last ten minutes was ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘maybe’, ‘whatever’. I pointed at the McDonald’s window posters, doing my best to keep the grin in place. ‘Hey, look, the McRib’s back. Shall we get some afterwards?’
‘Yeah, whatever.’
I stole a glance at her. What the fuck was going on inside that young head of hers? Probably much the same as went on in mine. I’d just learnt to hide it better.
The Moorings was a large townhouse in a leafy square overlooking central gardens that were fenced and gated so that only the residents could enjoy the trimly cut grass. Everything about the area and the building said that this was an institution that specialized in the disorders of the rich, which was unfortunate because I wasn’t.
I found a parking space for the cheapo-hire-deal Corsa, turned off the engine and looked at Kelly as I undid my seat-belt. ‘Looks as lovely as ever, doesn’t it?’
No response.
‘I always wonder why they call it the Moorings. I mean, we’re half a mile from the Thames – where are the boats?’
Still silent, Kelly unbuckled her belt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. I got out and fed a few pound coins into the meter, and we walked together up the three stone steps, between the nicely painted wrought-iron railings and through the glass doors. The reception area was as plush as the head office of a private bank, had Victorian oil paintings on the walls and smelt of furniture polish. An immaculately dressed woman came out from behind the desk and ushered us towards the waiting room with an offer of drinks. Kelly was still in ‘whatever’ mode so I asked for a Coke, and white, no-sugar coffee. We knew the way, and settled down side by side on a big red leather chesterfield. A spread of property magazines for the South of France and the Caribbean lay on the low glass table in front of us. Nice work if you can get it, this therapy business.
Kelly rested her hands on her jeaned thighs, but the rest of her seemed to crumple. Her index finger was still red and the skin was flaking under the plaster. I nodded down at it. ‘Does that thing hurt? I thought it would have cleared up by now.’
‘It’s just gone a bit weird. It’s fine, OK?’
The receptionist came in with the drinks and Kelly seemed to brighten. Then Dr Hughes walked into the room, with a big, warm smile. ‘Hello, Kelly, it’s been quite a while since we last met.’ She ignored me, which was reasonable: she wasn’t here for me. ‘What a wonderful-looking young lady you’re turning out to be.’
Kelly’s cheeks turned pink as we both stood up, but at least there was a hint of a smile at the sight of Dr Hughes, and that made me feel a whole lot better.
Hughes looked as striking as ever behind her half-moon glasses. She must have been about sixty now, and still had a big grey hairdo that made her look more like an American news-reader than a psychiatrist. She was dressed in the kind of black trouser suit that you can only buy on a platinum Amex card. Chatting away with Kelly she got a few little nods in return, but then there was a huge grin, and suddenly whatever I was paying was worth it.
‘Shall we go upstairs for a while, Kelly?’ She opened the door and ushered her through.
Kelly turned to me. ‘You’re waiting here, right?’
‘I’ll be here.’
I sat down again as the fire door closed with a whisper.
12
Exactly fifty-five minutes later the door opened again and Hughes appeared. She looked back down the corridor and said, ‘Yes, he’s here.’
Kelly came into the room, her face looking much the same as it was on the way here. That was fine: I trusted Hughes. This wasn’t about getting an instant fix. She still gave her full attention to Kelly. ‘So, same time on Saturday?’
Kelly nodded as her coat went over her shoulders and we walked back out to the car. I knew from last time round that it wasn’t the thing to ask how it went. Hughes had said that if she wanted me to know, she’d tell me of her own accord. She’d also told me she wouldn’t discuss anything Kelly had said to her, unless it was putting the kid in danger. I just had to shut up and wait.
The sidelights flashed as I hit the key fob and we climbed in. ‘The old girl hasn’t changed much, has she?’
She fastened her seat-belt. ‘No.’
There was no more conversation as we crawled back towards south London. I checked traser. It was ten past six. There was no way we’d be in Bromley by seven. I got out my tri-band cell phone and she looked at me suspiciously. ‘I’m going to give them a call. We’re not going to make it.’
No surprise who picked up the phone at the other end: Jimmy wasn’t allowed anywhere near it. ‘Carmen, it’s Nick. The traffic is a nightmare and I don’t think we’re going to be back by seven.’
Kelly pointed at the mobile, shaking her head.
‘Oh dear, what a pity. We went to Safeway’s specially. I’ve spent ages preparing it. Jimmy won’t be able to wait. We always have dinner at seven.’
‘I’m really sorry. We’ll get something on the way.’ I managed to stop myself saying I’d be looking for an ext
ra-large slice of humble pie.
‘Are you going to be late every time?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Depends on the traffic. Listen, we should be back by nine at the latest.’
‘Can I speak to her? How is she? How was it?’
‘She’s fine. She’s asleep in the back. I’ll tell you later. I’ll get her something to eat, don’t worry. We’re just going into a tunnel. I’d better go. ’Bye.’
I hit the red button and grinned at Kelly. ‘That’s going to cost you big-time.’ At last I saw the faintest flicker of a smile in the light from the oncoming cars.
‘Sorry I didn’t want to talk to her,’ she said. ‘But she’d just be telling me to keep my coat on and make sure you feed me properly.’
‘I think you’re being a bit unfair. She might have wanted to discuss something like the humanitarian crisis in Iraq.’
Kelly’s smile broadened and I felt my own spirits lift. ‘Talking of food, how about that McRib?’
It wasn’t long before we were in line at the crowded McDonald’s on the Wandsworth roundabout. It was full of people like us who’d just thrown in their hands at the end of the day instead of going home and cooking. After taking for ever to get to the counter, we couldn’t be arsed waiting even longer for a new batch of McRibs so both opted for the quarter-pounder meal and large fries. Kelly also wanted a milkshake. She went off to grab a table where she’d spotted some people just leaving, and I followed with the tray.
We shovelled fries into our mouths as hyperactive kids piled past us into the play area. Kelly had always been a streak of piss, and had got even skinnier the last few times I’d seen her. I didn’t know where she put it all.
She dipped her burger in extra ketchup and it was soon heading for her mouth, but she suddenly stopped, staring at the bun. ‘Dr Hughes says being honest with yourself is the key to recovery.’