Keep My Secrets

by Elena Wilkes

  She could feel Jude’s eyes boring into the side of her face and then her attention shifted to Martin.

  ‘And you just walked the streets looking for her, did you?’

  She could make out Martin’s head nodding from the corner of her eye.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Yeah. I was worried. Young girl out of her tree, wandering about. Anything could happen, couldn’t it?’

  ‘And you tried ringing her?’ Jude’s gaze was piercing.

  ‘He doesn’t have my number,’ Frankie said quickly. ‘So he couldn’t. Here – check if you want.’ She reached for her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, knowing that they had agreed never to phone each other for that very reason.

  Jude didn’t offer to take it. She got up and perched on the edge of her desk, looking straight at Martin.

  ‘So why didn’t you bring your concerns to me?’

  Martin held out his hands imploringly. ‘I’ve been told how Frankie responds to authority, and some of the other staff said that when she’s challenged it just makes things worse. I was coming off my shift last night when I happened to catch sight of her as she was climbing out of the window, but she saw me and ran off. So I went after her.’ He paused. ‘It’s all totally my fault, Jude, I should’ve alerted you right then, but I panicked. I thought if I could persuade her to come back it would all be okay. When I saw she was headed to that party, I knew she could get herself into some serious shit.’

  Jude leaned back and folded her arms. She was seriously angry, but she was still listening. Martin could clearly sense that too.

  ‘Once I lost her, it didn’t take me long to realise I was out of my depth and that I had no idea what I was doing. So call it arrogance, call it inexperience, but I can tell you categorically, I’ve learned a huge lesson.’ His shoulders dropped. He sighed and shook his head. ‘Clearly I got it wrong. I got it wrong right from the beginning and for that I am so, so sorry.’

  Frankie watched his performance in amazement. He looked like he truly believed his own story.

  He leaned forward, his fingers linked as he shifted nervously. ‘Look, I understand totally if you think I’m not cut out for this kind of work. I fully respect whatever decision you make, Jude. Even if you suggest I stop volunteering here. I wouldn’t blame you. I totally get it.’

  Jude stayed silent for a moment, looking from one to the other. Her arms unfolded and there was a shift in the atmosphere.

  ‘Well actually Martin, given Frankie’s past problems, this outcome is fundamentally a step forward.’ Frankie let herself breathe. ‘She didn’t stay out all night and force us to call the police as she normally would.’ She felt Jude’s beady eyes on her. ‘She got herself back home, relatively unscathed.’ She gave her another meaningful look. ‘That’s a massive plus from where we were six months ago. I’m not saying the way you behaved was right, Martin, but the result is the right result, and if you had a hand in making that happen then I commend you. But I have to tell you – no more, you understand me?’

  Her gaze forced them to look at each other.

  ‘If there’s a next time, I will have to take it further.’

  They nodded in unison and Frankie got up and walked towards the door. She paused.

  ‘Thank you, Jude,’ she said in a small voice.

  ‘Yeah, thanks Jude,’ Martin echoed.

  Frankie opened the door and Nat and Jaden nearly fell head-first through the gap.

  ‘Show’s over,’ said Frankie sullenly. ‘You’re going to have to make your own entertainment.’

  ‘Ah, you two,’ Jude called out. ‘I’m glad you’re both here. Can I have a word?’

  Jaden and Nat glanced at each other.

  ‘Oh, and Frankie? You missed the house meeting yesterday where we discussed what’s happening with Natalie. Nat, do you want to tell Frankie yourself or do you want me to tell her?’

  Natalie looked steadily at Frankie. There was a pause. ‘Y’know what happened yesterday – our fight?’

  ‘Yeah?’ Frankie looked at her, puzzled.

  ‘Well, the reason everyone went bat-shit about me fallin’ over, is ‘cos I’m pregnant.’

  ‘What?’ Frankie stared back at her.

  ‘Yeah, but I’m having it adopted.’

  Frankie couldn’t find the words.

  ‘It’s for the best.’

  No one spoke. Nat stood there, chewing her cheek and then she looked away. ‘Yeah well, it’s no big deal anyway… It’s sorted now. An’ I’m sorry I went into your room and took stuff. I shouldn’t’ve… But my head’s been all over the place.’

  Frankie instantly felt terrible. ‘I had no idea, Nat. I feel awful. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I’m sorry too. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have done that either.’

  Nat gave a quick nod and carried on chewing. The unhappiness came off her in waves.

  ‘Well, there we are then.’ Jude clapped her hands and looked at them both. ‘Situation resolved, I think. With all of us.’ She included Martin in her gaze. ‘Can we all get back to some kind of normal now, is that possible?’ She smiled. ‘Okay, Nat have a seat and I’ll talk you through what’s going to happen at your appointment with the adoption caseworker, and I’ll see you two later. Close the door behind you as you leave, please.’

  Frankie pulled the door shut with a click. She turned to go but Martin caught her arm.

  ‘Wait a minute.’

  ‘Take your hand off me,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’ve got nothing to say to you.’

  ‘Well I’ve got plenty to say to you.’

  Twisting her arm out of his grasp, she stalked away from him, very aware that he was close on her heels as she stomped up the stairs.

  ‘I don’t want to hear it.’ She felt ill, she felt tired, she felt like crying. She reached her room knowing that part of her longed for him to say something, anything to make all this go away.

  Wordlessly, he put his finger to his lips and pushed the door open, gesturing for her to go inside. She debated for a second, and then went and sat sulkily on the rumpled bed. He closed the door behind him and then came and crouched in front of her.

  ‘So where did you go?’ He went to touch her cheek, but she snatched her face away.

  She stared ahead sullenly.

  ‘I came looking for you, you know that, don’t you?’

  She wouldn’t even blink.

  ‘I know you don’t believe me, but I’m not interested in Charlotte. I was just talking to her – I was actually remarking how similar you two looked.’

  ‘Really.’ Her voice was dull and hard.

  ‘Yes, really. Then you come down the stairs and all hell broke loose.’

  ‘I went to your boat.’

  She saw his face tighten.

  ‘There were lights on and then I heard voices.’

  ‘I always leave the lights on when I go out, and you can’t have heard—’

  A terrific banging on the front door stopped them in their tracks. They both leapt up. Martin went over to the window and looked out.

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘What is it?’

  She peered over his shoulder. Outside were two police cars parked askew, their lights whirling madly. The battering of the front door went on and on as though they might break it down any moment. She heard Jude’s voice and the jabber of radios.

  ‘Jude said… she promised she wouldn’t take last night any further,’ Frankie stammered. ‘She promised.’

  Martin went out onto the landing and looked down.

  ‘You don’t have two cop cars and all those Old Bill for that.’ He hesitated before walking down the stairs. Frankie was right behind him. ‘Something’s kicked off. One of the girls is in trouble, maybe.’

  They reached the bottom. She was aware of the black figures filling the hallway as the police and Jude turned to look at them.

  ‘Are you Martin Jarvis?’ one policeman said.

  ‘Yeah, why?’

  ‘And you currently reside on a hous
eboat named’ – the officer consulted his notebook – ‘Morning Mist, that’s moored just north of canal bridge number 137. Is that correct?’

  ‘My boat is called Morning Mist yes, but I don’t know any bridge numbers. Why, what’s happened?’

  ‘In that case, I would like you to accompany us to the police station, sir. We’d like to ask you a few questions.’

  Martin looked at each of their faces as though wondering if this was a joke. Jude’s face was a mask of shock.

  ‘The body of a young woman was discovered this morning in the canal.’ The policeman looked at Frankie and then back at Martin.

  She felt something crawl across her scalp.

  ‘The body was found in the water next to your boat, Mr Jarvis. We don’t have a formal identification as yet, but a girl fitting her description didn’t come home last night. She was reported missing by her parents.’

  Frankie’s knees wouldn’t hold her any longer, and she sat down hard on the stairs.

  ‘We were wondering if you were able to give us any information, or help in any way?’

  She watched the back of Martin’s head. It swung back and forth. He didn’t make a sound.

  ‘We know you were present at an address in Cheyne Road at a party, Mr Jarvis. We have plenty of witnesses putting you there. We also have CCTV footage that shows you and this girl together. Maybe I can jog your memory a little. Would that help? The missing girl’s name is Charlotte. Charlotte Vale.’

  Chapter Seven

  Now

  She watches Alex’s face as he stands there in the doorway. His hand is still clutching the edge as though he’s afraid to let go.

  ‘So you think this guy stalking you is someone you used to work with in a care home?’ He looks down blankly at the note.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What was his name again?’ He tips his head.

  ‘Matthew Jarrow.’

  She has no idea where that name came from.

  ‘So, your managers knew about his behaviour: this over-familiarity, and eventually they got him transferred?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And that was the last you heard of him?’

  ‘Until someone told me that he’s just come out of prison.’

  Alex stares down at the piece of paper in his hand again. She’s glad he’s not looking at her face. The lie scours her cheeks.

  ‘And we don’t know what he was in for?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But you definitely think this is him?’ He lifts his head.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘And that phone call?’

  ‘I – I don’t know. I really don’t. It could’ve been. It’s just silence, normally.’

  She realises the way she’s phrased it is a mistake.

  ‘So this isn’t the first time?’

  The appalling snowball of the pretence begins to pick up speed. She needs to stop it somehow. This is mad, stupid.

  ‘How long has this been going on?’

  She can’t breathe.

  ‘And why didn’t you just tell me?’

  Her jaw clenches painfully. She rubs a tired hand across her face so that she doesn’t have to look at him. ‘Alex – look, I don’t know. I should’ve… Maybe I thought… Well, you’ve got enough going on without all this.’ She casts a hand across the notes.

  ‘I’ll ask again: how long?’

  ‘A few weeks – a month maybe.’

  ‘Jesus.’ He watches her, appalled. ‘And the shit state of my life is the only reason you haven’t mentioned it?’

  Her head snaps up. ‘Of course!’

  ‘So why now?’

  She looks at him, puzzled.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Why is he contacting you now after all this time?’

  She can’t bear this. ‘Because he’s been released, maybe? Maybe he blames me. Maybe he’s obsessed. I don’t know.’

  ‘Christ.’

  She is aware of him searching her face. He must see it, surely? The burn of shame: the lie, upon lie, upon lie. How she wishes she could tell him the truth, but she can’t. She can’t go back and undo everything.

  Alex reaches out and grabs her hand suddenly.

  ‘Frankie.’ He clasps it; his eyes are soft with tenderness. ‘Y’know the worst thing?’

  She wishes he wouldn’t look at her. She despises herself.

  ‘The worst thing is, I can’t bear the fact that you felt you couldn’t come to me. I can’t live with the idea that you’ve had to go through this thing on your own. I’ve been completely self-absorbed, I know that. I am so sorry – so, so sorry. I’ve punished you – I know I have.’

  ‘It’s okay. It’s my fault. I should’ve said…’ She’s stunned and appalled to find him drawing her to him, relaxing against her, burying his forehead in her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her. She thinks he might be crying. She has truly never felt more terrible, more awful than she does right now.

  ‘Shh… Honestly… it’ll be okay, Alex. It’ll be fine.’ She hates herself.

  ‘It will once we go to the police.’ He pulls away, abruptly. ‘We go to the police with these letters and we’ll tell them everything. If you’re right and this guy has been released, then they need to know that he’s threatening and harassing you.’ He kneels down on the carpet and begins to push the papers gingerly back into the envelope. ‘Fingerprints. There could be fingerprints,’ he mutters.

  She watches the feverish gathering.

  ‘And the phone. Bring something with the account number on it. They’ll want to check out the call log too. Come on.’

  ‘What, we’re going right now?’ She looks at him in astonishment.

  ‘Yep, now.’ He’s very definite. ‘You’ve got some bloody nutcase stalking you. Of course we’re going to the police. We should’ve gone to them weeks ago. Now, come on.’

  Chapter Eight

  Frankie sits across a grey desk in an even greyer side room, giving her statement to a policewoman called Julia. Julia was just about to go off duty after a nightshift but is glad she can help them. Julia sounds as though she’s been on a Community Relations course.

  Frankie tells her tale, hoping that this policewoman was sent on the course because she’s struggling at work, and is, this moment, too tired to pick up on the finer points. Her eyes look a little glassy but she’s diligent and careful to ask the right questions in the right way, constantly keeping eye contact, nodding and smiling and making sure that Frankie is comfortable at all times.

  ‘Do we know if this Matthew Jarrow has been released, then?’ Alex leans forward, his knee jiggling with tension. Frankie just wishes he’d stop.

  ‘We’ll certainly be checking into all the details you’ve given us and be reporting back everything we find.’ Julia clearly wants to sound reassuring. ‘We’ll be doing everything we can, Mr McKenzie. We do take these things very seriously. Your wife’s safety and your safety are our priority. Absolutely. Number one.’

  It’s a pat response and Alex sits back. Frankie can tell he’s not satisfied with her answer. A whole load of questions run through her own mind, the first of which is, what will she tell Alex when the police ring back and declare that there’s no Matthew Jarrow on the database – either in or out of prison? What will she say then?

  ‘And you say everything you’ve received is in here?’ Julia puts her hand briefly on the plastic wallet.

  Alex looks at Frankie questioningly.

  ‘Yes.’ Frankie nods. ‘That’s all of it.’

  The lie slides from her lips. She thinks about the envelope still sitting beneath her desk. There’s truth and there is pain. Sometimes terrible truth and terrible pain go hand in hand and, right now, Alex doesn’t need either.

  Her elbow squeezes the slight bump of the hairband in her pocket. She told Julia about it, showed it to her even, but she really isn’t on the ball when it comes to securing evidence.

  ‘I think your statement is pretty comprehensive.’ Julia scans t
he statement sheets in front of her and makes some minor adjustments before swivelling them round for Frankie to read.

  ‘Have a good look through and see if there’s anything you want to add. I’ll just pop out and speak to one of my colleagues and check if we’ve already got anything logged on the system that we can tell you about this Matthew Jarrow.’ She walks briskly to the door. ‘Back in a tic.’

  Frankie pretends to read the sheet, her eyes moving back and forth across the page without taking anything in, praying and hoping that she can register the right reaction on her face. She knows she needs to look shocked when she’s told that there is no Matthew Jarrow. Her reaction needs to be plausible and Alex needs to see and totally believe it.

  She can feel his calm gaze on the side of her face. She looks back at him. He has a slight smile teasing the corners of his mouth. His eyes have an odd look. For one tiny, split second, she wonders if he knows she’s lying, but suddenly the warmth of his fingers inch across her own in her lap. He lifts her hand and kisses it.

  ‘From now on, we’re in this together, yeah?’ He searches her face questioningly. ‘No more secrets? Something happens and you tell me. Is that a deal?’

  ‘That’s a deal.’ She manages to nod, but the deceit echoes hollowly.

  The door opens and the hollowness turns to dread.

  ‘I’m afraid the computer’s down.’ Julia bustles over to the desk. ‘How are we doing here?’ She puts a finger on the paper. ‘Any amendments or additions?’

  Alex looks at Frankie, but she shakes her head.

  ‘No, it’s fine, thank you. And thank you for all your help.’ Her stomach unravels a little.

  ‘Absolutely no problem at all. I’ve passed all the information to the team. So, if this individual contacts you again, or if you’re concerned even slightly, here’s my mobile and direct line. Remember, I’m totally on your side.’

  She walks them to the main doors, shakes both their hands and they step out onto the early morning street. It feels quiet and strange out here: the buildings and shops around them are still shuttered and closed, the streetlights casting pools of gauzy yellow into the half-light. Frankie looks up and takes a deep breath in. It’s just starting to rain.