by K. L. Slater
‘Is Josh OK?’ I ask.
‘He’s absolutely fine. Glued to the TV I’m afraid, but I figure it won’t do him any harm, keeping his mind off stuff. He’s staying away from the Internet as people are saying some pretty rotten stuff.’
At home we’ve always strictly limited his television time, but Beth is right. It’s an effective diversionary measure right now.
When she rings off, I just stand there, looking at Tom.
If we lose the business, we lose everything we own.
Thirty-Six
2003
The ambulance didn’t take long to arrive, but each minute seemed like an hour to Juliet, all sorts of awful scenarios running through her head as she waited.
She had raced down the hill and up to the top road that traced around the boundary of the warren, running faster than she’d ever moved in her life.
A small bungalow, perched close to the edge of the warren, was the first house she got to. A lady answered when she knocked at the door and immediately called the emergency services.
She introduced herself as Anne and kindly allowed Juliet to use her telephone to call home. She listened to the ring and through the kitchen window, watched a small boy on a toy tractor, trundling up and down the path of the long back garden.
‘Dad?’ she said breathlessly when he finally answered. ‘Come quick as you can to the warren. Corey’s had an accident on Stony Side Hill.’
‘What kind of an accident?’
She couldn’t answer.
‘Juliet?’
‘He… he fell. Just come quick, Dad, please.’
Her father continued to bark questions at her, demanding to know exactly what had happened, but she quietly said goodbye and replaced the receiver.
She couldn’t handle facing her own incompetence so starkly, not at this moment and not in front of a stranger.
Anne gave her a glass of water and thankfully left her alone to wait for the ambulance on the front step. A golden retriever nuzzled her hand for attention and Juliet lay her face against the warmth of his head for a moment.
The ambulance arrived and the paramedics immediately pulled portable medical kits from the back and followed Juliet to the entrance to the warren. When she pointed to Stony Side Hill and explained where Corey had landed, the two men upped their pace. They soon moved well in front of her, jogging towards the foot of the hill. She followed as swiftly as she could with hope in her heart.
She imagined Corey sitting up, rubbing the back of his head. Chloe would be comforting him and joking about his misadventure in that way she had that could sometimes make you feel better about stuff you’d done wrong.
But Dad would be on his way now, and Mum… well, Mum was a different story altogether. Juliet could barely face the thought of facing Joan, telling her she’d somehow fallen asleep and left Corey to his own devices. It was enough to turn her blood to ice.
Her fingernails begin to flex against her hand as she walked, squeezing the soft flesh of her palm a little harder with each step.
After her initial flare of adrenalin, she was flagging again, but still she focused on keeping up her pace, trying to forge through the exhaustion.
By the time she’d reached the bottom of the hill, the paramedics were halfway up it.
Please, please let Corey be OK, she chanted to herself like a mantra, in time with her laboured strides.
There was no denying that Corey was a little live wire, and he got on all their nerves at times, but Juliet adored him. She would never willingly do anything to put her brother at risk.
She had heard her mother say some awful things to Ray: that she had never wanted a third child, that Corey was hyperactive and out of control and she was sick to death of the sight of him. But that was just her mum. Underneath all the showboating, Juliet knew she loved him. She loved them all, didn’t she?
It was just that she struggled to cope with life itself sometimes. But if anything happened to Corey, her mother would be devastated.
They all would.
Thirty-Seven
Tom suggests I make a list of the things I need. ‘I’ll go back to the house and pick everything up you need for Beth,’ he says. ‘You’re best staying here in case Maddy needs you.’
I realise there’s something I need to tell him.
‘It’s crazy at the house. I’ve been back there, just before Dana spoke to the girls the second time. There are press there. Lots of them outside the gate and…’ I sniff. ‘There are locals hanging around. Unfriendly ones, shouting abusive stuff. When I left, I had to sneak out of the back across another garden to call a cab to come to the road behind ours.’
He’s incredulous. ‘Why on earth did you go there alone?’
‘I had to look for the secret phone Josh told us about, and I knew you’d try and put me off if I told you what I had in mind. The people outside the house… they said awful things I don’t want to repeat. I just don’t understand how they get to know everything that’s happening. I thought this stuff was supposed to be confidential.’
Tom’s shoulders shoot up to his ears. ‘Word gets around; you know what the village grapevine is like, it’s more effective than any newspaper. Neighbours will have seen the girls being taken away from the house, heard that the old lady had been attacked.’ His voice drops low. ‘Did you… find the phone?’
I nod and pat my handbag. ‘It’s in here, but I haven’t looked at it yet. If I’m honest, I’m scared to.’
‘Give it to me,’ he says gently. ‘I’ll take it to the car and look through it so there’s no chance of anyone seeing.’
I clamp my jaw closed, sparking with the injustice of us having to behave this way because of people we don’t even know judging our daughter.
‘Tom, it wasn’t just the horrible stuff they were shouting; there’s some really vile graffiti sprayed across the garage door. The front door lock has been blocked with glue and someone’ – I wince – ‘has posted dog mess through our letter box. The whole place stinks of it.’
Tom sighs and touches my arm.
‘Give me the phone, Jules,’ he says, and holds out his hand.
* * *
When Tom has gone, I stand on my own for a few minutes in the corridor. One or two members of staff walk by and eye me cautiously. DS March strides past and stops to ask if I’m OK.
There’s nowhere to reflect here, nowhere to sit and gather my thoughts. Reluctantly I return to the family waiting room.
‘What was all that about?’ Chloe narrows her eyes as if she’s trying to get the measure of me. ‘What did Tom want to talk about?’
I take a breath. ‘There’s been a fire at the lock-up unit. We’ve lost everything.’
‘What?’ Chloe frowns. ‘Maybe you should remind Tom I’m a director in the business too. I don’t appreciate being cut out of that conversation.’
I feel too weak and worried to argue. ‘The fire officer said it’s looking like it might be arson.’
Chloe picks up her phone and taps on it.
‘There are online news reports coming through about it now,’ she murmurs. ‘Bessie’s death is trending on Twitter. People are being… vile. That’s the only word.’
She holds out her phone and I take it and look at the screen.
She has found a thread on Facebook from a woman called Marcia Parminter. I’ve never heard of her, but she posted a public status just two hours ago.
Beware: our village is not safe with these two little evil cows still in it.
She attached an unofficial online article reporting on Bessie’s death, and the comments of other people underneath the status are far from flattering.
I was at school with Juliet Fletcher. She’s snooty, thinks she’s better than everyone else.
The kids’ mothers are obsessed with their clothing business, have a lock-up storage place on Ashfield Industrial Park. Sounds like the kids had to sort themselves out a lot of the time.
Maddy Fletcher is the quiet one and th
ey say that sort are the worst.
I heard Brianna Voce is sly.
I know Brianna’s mum, Chloe. Her husband dumped her while she was still pregnant.
Shame if Chloe gets tarred with the same brush as her stuck-up sister.
‘Dumped me while I was pregnant? I don’t remember that! Full of inaccuracies and lies.’ Chloe’s face is puce. ‘I’m not sitting back and letting them say stuff about me and Bree any longer. I’m sorry, Jules, but the press need to know Maddy has confessed.’ She looks at me. ‘It’s only right.’
The phone slips from my fingers and clatters to the floor.
‘Careful!’ Chloe tuts and scoots forward to retrieve the device before looking at me.
‘We shouldn’t dignify this crap by reacting,’ I remark, looking at them all in turn. ‘We need to keep a united front. Stick together.’
‘Course,’ Chloe says pointedly. ‘I’m sure you’d stick by us if it was Brianna who’d confessed.’
My blood feels like it’s boiling in my veins. ‘We are all in this together, whether you like it or not. Both our daughters were at Bessie Wilford’s house. We still don’t know exactly what happened there. It’s not enough that Brianna has accused Maddy.’
‘Things have changed now.’ Chloe’s voice assumes a cold edge. ‘Maddy has admitted to attacking Bessie. You can’t expect Brianna to take the rap for it.’
I glare at my parents. ‘Maddy is your granddaughter too, but I don’t hear either of you defending her. You know she’s not capable of doing anything bad.’
Mum and Chloe glance at each other, and then Chloe clears her throat.
‘Chloe…’ Dad says in a warning tone.
‘No, Dad! She needs to know. She thinks the sun shines out of that kid’s backside. It’s time she heard the truth.’ Chloe looks at me, her mouth a mean tight line. ‘You should know that last week Maddy stole some money from Mum’s purse.’
I pull in air. ‘What?’
‘She’s been acting differently for a few weeks, Juliet, you must’ve noticed that.’
‘Differently how?’
‘Just her general behaviour. I asked you if she was OK once or twice, but you just brushed it off, said she must be tired.’
I think about Maddy’s insomnia and her quiet spells when she seems to be deep in thought. Kids go through these phases, everyone knows that.
‘Tell me what happened with the money.’
‘I had a folded ten-pound note and a few coins in my purse,’ Mum says, picking at a thread on her skirt. ‘When the milkman came, I realised I’d calculated his bill wrong and needed a bit more cash. But when I went to my purse, the tenner had gone.’
‘And what’s that got to do with Maddy?’
‘Joan, love, we agreed. This is not the time.’ Dad’s cheeks flush with colour as fast as I feel the blood drain from my own.
‘Can you just stop talking around it and get to the point?’ I look at them both in turn.
The edges of Mum’s mouth droop downwards. ‘I asked the girls if either of them had taken it and they both said no, but Maddy went very quiet and I thought she looked guilty. When they were playing outside, I found it tucked in the front zip of her little rucksack.’
‘And you didn’t think to tell me?’
The two crimson patches on Mum’s cheeks intensify.
‘She started to cry when I asked her about it.’ She looks at Dad.
‘She begged us not to tell you,’ Dad says apologetically. ‘She said she was frightened you’d get really angry.’
Chloe folds her arms, a smug expression on her face. It’s all I can do not to wipe it off.
I glare accusingly at her. ‘You’ve seen me every day at work but never mentioned it.’
‘Not my place to.’ She shrugs. ‘Mum and Dad didn’t want to worry you because… well, you’ve found life hard enough to cope with lately, haven’t you?’
The three of them against me. That old familiar battle ploy.
But Maddy… my bright, joyful Maddy, involved in such a dishonest incident? Another one I didn’t know about.
My skin feels like it’s crawling with bugs. I scratch at the back of my neck, the inside of my elbows.
‘We just didn’t want to upset you, love,’ Dad says pleadingly. ‘What with you taking the antidepressants and all, and Chloe said how stressed you’ve been at work lately. We thought—’
‘Well you thought wrong. You can’t just go making decisions like that. She’s my daughter.’
I’m seething. I can’t look at them. Any of them.
My parents and sister, discussing my child and making decisions about what I should and shouldn’t know!
I stand up and then sit down again.
‘Tom will go crazy when I tell him. You can’t go keeping important stuff like this from us. You just can’t!’
Mum folds her arms. ‘He already knows. He was the one we went to to sort it all out.’
‘It was Tom who asked us not to mention it to you,’ Dad says gently.
Thirty-Eight
The village
It was after 7.30 p.m. when Dana got home. Used to letting herself into an empty house, it was a treat to walk in to the comforting smell of delicious food on the go.
Yesterday when Lizzie had offered to cook dinner, Dana had jumped at it and handed over her door key for the first time. Neither of them said anything, but it felt significant in their developing relationship.
Dana hoped Lizzie would invite her over to her own place soon. She’d already explained it was poky and not where she wanted to be, but still, Dana would appreciate the gesture.
‘Risotto,’ she said over Lizzie’s shoulder as she stood at the hob, stirring. ‘My favourite!’
Lizzie ordered her out of the kitchen and into the lounge. Minutes later, she came through carrying two large glasses of red wine.
‘Hey, why the long face?’ She handed Dana a glass and frowned. ‘Not thinking about work, I hope.’
‘Guilty as charged, I’m afraid.’ Dana took a sip of the velvety Merlot. ‘I’m just wondering how those girls and their families will cope this evening in the juvenile detention centre. I don’t think there’ll be much sleep happening; it’ll be a long, long night. But forget me – tell me about your day.’
‘My day has been boring and routine, and if you want to offload, I’m offering you the chance now. Once the food is on the table, it’s a strictly no-shop-talk zone.’
‘Get it out of the way, you mean?’ Dana grinned and took another sip of her wine, relaxing back into the soft cushions behind her. ‘It’s just this case; it’s getting to me when it should be fairly straightforward.’
‘Getting to you how exactly? Worrying about the girls, you mean?’
‘Hmm. There’s something not right about it all. It’s like there’s a piece of the jigsaw missing, but I’ve no evidence. It’s just a feeling.’
Lizzie laughed and made a spooky noise. She put her wine glass down on a coaster by her feet before speaking.
‘Could it be it’s because the case is so troubling? Two ten-year-olds carrying out such a horrible attack is enough to mess with anyone’s head. It might just be that you feel uncomfortable about it.’
Dana nodded thoughtfully. It felt so good to come home and let everything out instead of having it churning around in her head like an out-of-control washing machine.
‘I don’t need to tell you that sometimes pretty horrible stuff does happen in this world,’ Lizzie continued gently. ‘None of us want to believe it in this case: two young girls from what appear to be decent families. But could it be possible that in a moment of madness, they attacked that poor old lady and turned temporarily mute with the shock and denial? Thinking about the most famous child murderer cases, their awful deeds are hardly ever planned. Maybe your compassionate mind is just trying to make sense of it all.’
Dana nodded again but said nothing. She knew only too well that bad stuff happened. It still didn’t change the stubbo
rn feeling in her gut.
‘What do the detectives think?’ Lizzie said.
‘Neary thinks there’s probably more to it, but he’s under pressure to follow the evidence and get a conviction. Tension is building in the village by the hour, and the investigation has come to the same conclusion: that the girls did it.’
Lizzie placed her hand on Dana’s and pressed down to reassure her.
‘It’s not in your job description to save everyone, you know,’ she said. ‘You’re allowed to follow the evidence too, and you’re allowed to come home and relax at the end of the day. Now, I’ll check on the risotto and you make a deal with yourself to take a break.’
She took her wine with her, and a few seconds later, Dana heard plates and cutlery clinking in the kitchen. Lizzie wanted the best for her, that much was obvious.
Dana knew her own faults; she knew she’d often become over-involved in complex cases in the past, and eventually that had been her downfall. Now it was starting to happen again.
But this time she felt another feeling deep in her bones that refused to be ignored, and that was this new chance of happiness in her own life. Her blossoming relationship with Lizzie was like a small flame that needed to be nurtured and given the time and space to grow.
There wasn’t time to save the world as well.
Lizzie was right, she thought, picking up her wine and heading for the kitchen. Maybe it was finally time to put herself first.
Thirty-Nine
Juliet
I finally collapse exhausted into my temporary bed at the centre around 9 p.m.
Soon as I’m horizontal, my exhaustion disappears and my brain starts to zing with a thousand awful thoughts.
I’m too warm, tossing and turning this way and that. At least I have the small double bed to myself. Tom decided to take the business information over to Beth and then stay in a cheap Premier Inn near home and the lock-up. He couldn’t possibly stay in the house with everything that was happening there.