The door down the corridor opened and I spilled a slop of coffee over my hand. I put my wrist to my mouth to remove the stain.
Abigail was coming up the corridor with DS McCarthy at her side and the appropriate adult – a brown-haired, plain-looking lady – following behind. Beside me, DC Vickers and DC Neilson stood up too and I saw a look pass between the officers, a tiny lift of DS McCarthy’s eyebrows – Anything? – and a quick shake of the head from DC Vickers. Nothing. Then DS McCarthy’s look again: Are you sure?
On Abigail’s face was a look of something – anxiety, frustration? ‘What’s wrong?’ I said.
‘Nothing. She did fine.’ DS McCarthy tucked a hand into his pocket as though he was doing all he could to look relaxed.
‘What happened?’ I asked again.
DS McCarthy cleared his throat. ‘We were hoping she would make a victim impact statement. It’s useful evidence. We’d like her to say, in her own words, how she’s been affected by her abduction.’
I looked at my daughter. ‘Can’t you tell them that?’
‘It’s fine,’ said DS McCarthy. ‘We’ve plenty of time. Any time before sentencing.’
‘And I don’t have to,’ said Abigail.
‘The detective says it’s important.’
‘But I don’t have to.’
I looked up at DS McCarthy. ‘She’s going to see a therapist, but maybe that will help?’ I hadn’t had the chance to tell Abigail yet, but I wanted DS McCarthy to see that we were co-operating and doing everything we could to help. If there was something I didn’t know, then I couldn’t help that, but in every other way we were doing everything we could.
‘Certainly. Perhaps.’ He spread out his palms as though to say, who am I to judge? You are though, I couldn’t help thinking, and I feel it with you every time, that you are looking at us and judging everything we do.
Behind her fringe, Abigail’s face was dark. She rubbed at her eyes. ‘Can we go now, please?’
On the drive home, she stared out of the window, swimming in a sea of her own thoughts even as I tried to paddle my flimsy raft towards her. ‘I looked up all of them. She seemed the nicest, I think you’ll like her and I think she will help.’
She half turned towards me. ‘What? Help with what?’
‘The therapist. With anything you need. Any questions you have in … in coming to terms with it all.’
My daughter released a deep sigh and I felt as though she had come to me for something and had been asking for years and I hadn’t heard her once. I only just caught the words she mumbled, leaning her head against the car window and barely audible over the thrum of the engine.
‘Why can’t you just talk to me yourself?’
Chapter 14
Thursday 13th June:
Day 18
JESS
I couldn’t stop watching Mum all week. I kept trying to read her face, her movements, for signs. I’d always known there was stuff she didn’t tell me. Stuff – I’d assumed – that just wasn’t my concern. Dad was the one always trying to talk, trying to share things. But now I’d seen something else entirely. I’d always known Mum could hide things. But now I knew that, maybe, she could lie.
On the surface she was the same as ever. She set my clean clothes on my bed same as always. Hassled me to tidy my room. She made the same face each morning as she clipped on her work badge – lead nurse at the GP practice. My mum, manager of everything.
All week she went on like that. Every day I thought she would say something, and every day, nothing at all changed. It made me wonder if I’d imagined it all. Maybe I’d misheard, or made the whole thing up. Or maybe I just had to ask her for the truth.
On Thursday night, Dad was at his late clinic. When I came home from school, it was just Mum and me. A whole evening of the two of us. No one else, no distractions. I went upstairs and got out of my school clothes. If there was ever going to be a time, it was now.
Mum had changed out of her work clothes too. I helped her with dinner, setting the table. Just two plates, two knives, two forks. When dinner was ready – a healthy thing with vegetables in it – we sat down opposite each other. She was so composed, so careful as I watched her eat. Nothing showed. I was sure she must feel it, my eyes on her, my questions floating like huge bubbles between us. What did my aunt want to tell the police? What was it Mum claimed couldn’t make any difference? I wanted Mum to say something, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask. If I dared bring up what I’d heard, I’d have to admit I had been listening. Creeping about, eavesdropping, and I knew she could turn that back on me. But the longer she sat there without saying anything, the angrier I got. I wasn’t a kid, I wasn’t eight anymore. Wasn’t I old enough now to know what was going on?
Mum ate her last mouthful and put her knife and fork together, even though there was no one but her and me to see it. ‘Finished?’
I could have said something right there. Just ask, I could hear the voice in my head saying. Just ask. And I was about to, really I was – but then my phone rang, right at my elbow. Lena. Lena, who I’d hardly spoken to all week. Lena, the only real friend at school I had. Now she was calling, and if I didn’t answer—
Mum waved her hand – it’s fine, go on. She was already standing up, her empty plate in her hand. My phone was flashing, Lena’s pixie face showing. And, swiping to answer, I couldn’t ignore my relief.
I went through to the living room, sat down carefully on the big sofa. ‘Hello?’
It had all been so awkward since she’d had a go at me in the park. Now I knew she was holding out an olive branch. Probably we’d stayed friends because one of us always did – I tried to catch up with her or she tried to slow down for me. This time it was Lena who’d reached out. She was calling with an idea, a plan she’d come up with. The annual music festival was on this weekend. Why didn’t Abigail and I both come? It wasn’t hard to read between the lines. Lena was giving me a chance to prove myself. Giving Abigail a chance. Invite her out, Lena was saying, show me, prove to me that she’s fine. I swallowed down all my reservations. I said yes almost at once.
‘I’ll call her,’ I told Lena. In the kitchen, I could hear Mum washing up. The background noise helped drown out my other thoughts. ‘I’ll ask her right away.’
And I did. I rang the Whites’ house there and then. Abigail was quiet when she came to the phone – like she’d just woken up – but once I explained it all, it wasn’t hard to get her to agree. And then Auntie Anne and Uncle Robert said it would be okay too. So now everybody had said yes.
When I felt Mum touch my shoulder, I jumped. I’d turned the TV up so loud that I hadn’t heard her come in.
‘Everything okay?’ She put a cool hand on my forehead, the way she used to when I was younger, smoothing back my hair. It was a wonderful feeling. I’d always loved it. I turned down the TV and let myself lean into her palm. ‘Abigail and I are going to meet Lena on Saturday.’
I expected Mum to question me, to object until she’d extracted all the facts. There were so many rules and strictures with Mum, sometimes living with her made it hard to breathe. It would have been like that too, I thought, for my aunt when she and Abigail lived with us. Two whole years under Mum’s rules.
Instead: ‘That sounds wonderful,’ she said. ‘Abigail will be able to make a new friend.’ Her gentle hand went on smoothing. The anxiousness in my chest softened. I thought of the help she always gave me with my homework, pushing me till I got everything correct. My ironed school blouses, not a wrinkle in sight. The meal she’d cooked tonight from scratch that, despite the vegetables, had tasted so good. So what if there were things I didn’t understand? So what if there were things she kept from me? What did I know about how it worked with adults, what being a grown-up really meant? Mum had her ways – it was how she looked after me. It was how she’d protected me my whole life.
After that, I made myself stop thinking about what I’d overheard. I wouldn’t ask, I wouldn’t mention it. It was up t
o Mum and Auntie Anne to sort it out. Better to think of Abigail only. Better to make sure this all went okay.
On Saturday, Uncle Robert dropped my cousin off at ours with a duffel bag full of clothes. Upstairs in my bedroom, when she unzipped it, I saw it was stuffed with trousers, jumpers, skirts. Most still had their tags on. I sat down on my bed. ‘These are all yours?’
‘Yes. My mum’s been buying them.’
‘There’s a lot.’
‘I know. I wanted you to help me choose what to wear.’
I went to my wardrobe and opened the door wide so Abigail could see herself in the full-length mirror. She pulled off the plain blue T-shirt she’d arrived in, showing a white cotton bra underneath. She picked up a red checked shirt, tugged it over her head. She stood up in front of the mirror and pulled the shoulders this way and that. ‘It’s pretty,’ I said.
Abigail rubbed her bare arm where she had her nicotine patch, then pulled the red shirt off again. I reached down into the bag and lifted up a yellow top, summery and soft. ‘Why don’t you try this one?’ It was far nicer than any of the clothes I owned, and I knew it would look lovely on her. When she put it on, the shop tag made a little lump in the back. She did up the tie, pulling it tight at the waist. We both looked at her reflection. With the light jeans she had on, she looked pretty, girly. An ordinary fifteen-year-old.
‘You should wear that,’ I said, a bit too loudly. ‘It really suits you.’
Instead, Abigail picked at the knot she’d tied, unravelling it to take the top back off. She pushed it into the bag, pulled out something else – a tight black jumper. The rolled neck came right up to her chin, the sleeves right down to her knuckles. The static made her hair messy and fuzzed. She looked gawky, a pale scarecrow.
I didn’t want her to wear an outfit like that but she didn’t take it off again. I went to my dresser and handed her my brush. ‘Here.’ She could fix her hair at least. ‘Tuck it behind your ears.’ I showed her how. With the weight pulled back like that, you could make out her cheekbones and the soft angle of her jaw. She looked at herself, then found my eyes in the glass.
It would have to do. I smiled. ‘You look great.’
The music festival took place in the big park at the north end of town. Local acts, plus food shacks, craft stalls, all that kind of thing. Mum and Dad used to take me when I was little. It wasn’t far to walk from our house and it was sunny, the upwards rise of summer. I’d found pairs of sunglasses for both of us, and they helped make her outfit look less strange. After all the changing, we were running late and the park was already full by the time we got there. I could feel Abigail tense at the sight of the crowds. Only three weeks in – was she really ready? But I refused to let my own nerves rub off on her.
Within the grounds there were toddlers, parents; I scanned the little groups and knots of families, friends. At first there was no sign of Lena; just me and Abigail on the edge of this whole crowd. What would happen if Lena didn’t come? What would happen if Lena changed her mind and dropped me? At school, I didn’t have other friends, I didn’t know where else I’d fit in. Then I saw her, holding the hand of a little red-headed girl, tugging her to keep up as she came hurrying across the grass. I recognized the kid – a neighbour that she sometimes had to babysit.
I pointed, for Abigail’s sake, and waved. ‘There she is.’
Lena came up. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘There was a bit of an emergency next door, they needed me to take Kayla.’
‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘Doesn’t matter.’ Really it didn’t. Not now she was here.
I took a deep breath. This was such a weird moment, one that meant so much to me. Here she was, my cousin, whose absence had always fallen like a shadow on our friendship. The playmate Lena could never quite replace. Lena had stopped believing that she would come home. But now here she was, returned. Real.
‘Lena,’ I said, ‘this is Abigail.’
For a moment my best friend didn’t say anything. She was still trying to catch her breath. Then she smiled. ‘Abigail. It’s really good to meet you.’
‘Hello, Lena,’ my cousin replied. And smiled back.
‘Abigay! Abigay!’ shouted Kayla. Lena gave her arm a tug. ‘Yes, yes, hello to you as well.’
Kayla grinned.
I looked about me, able to breathe properly now. ‘This looks fun.’ A horseshoe of stalls fanned out across the grass, and the marquee stage was set up at the far end. I could hear the music from here.
Lena curled her loose hair into a knot at her neck. ‘Tom’s band is playing in a few minutes. I thought we could watch.’
Abigail crossed her arms straight out in front of her, clasping her hands in a funny kind of stretch.
‘Only if you want to,’ I said, quickly.
‘Sure,’ said my cousin, letting her arms drop.
Kayla was leaning out from Lena’s arm, her weight a momentum. ‘Come on then,’ Lena said, ‘let’s get a space at the front.’
We leaned on the railings they’d set up, metal barriers hot from the sun. When they came on stage, I pointed out Tom for Abigail. He was a year older than us, popular, part of the cool crowd from the boys’ school down the road. I only knew him and his friends because of Lena. Since Abigail came home, I was realizing that more and more. It was only because of Lena that I’d ever really fitted in.
Lena swung her hips. She had a way of moving, this way of twisting and tilting her body. Unpractised, like she’d just grown into it. I saw how Tom looked at her when she danced like that. A way no boy ever looked at me. I moved myself a little closer to Abigail as Lena linked her fingers with Kayla’s, swinging her whole body from side to side. Whenever she stopped, Kayla shouted, ‘Keep going!’
‘They’re great!’ I shouted across to Lena. I wanted her to see me enjoying myself. I wanted her to know that I could like what she liked. So what if Lena had Tom in her life now? I was willing to like him too, and he had always been nice enough to me.
‘They’re good, aren’t they?’ I said to my cousin. ‘And I’m really glad you can get to meet my friends.’ Because I was, of course I was. Glad Abigail had said yes and Mum had agreed and that, even in her odd outfit, my cousin didn’t look that weird. Because this way, I told myself, squeezing the hot railing, this way, maybe, I could have both. My friendship with Lena and everything that brought, and the magic of my world with my cousin.
Tom’s band finished their song, started a last one. Their singer was saying thank you into the mic. Kayla was tugging at the hem of Lena’s T-shirt. Lena bent down, said something I couldn’t catch. Kayla shook her head, her bottom lip thrusting out. Lena straightened up. ‘She needs the toilet.’ She shook her head. ‘Tom won’t want me to miss his last song.’
I glanced at Abigail, leaning on the railing. ‘I can take her,’ I said.
‘Could you?
‘Abigail? You’ll be okay for a few minutes, won’t you? If you stay with Lena while I take Kayla?’
Of course she could do it. Lena was so ready and willing to be friends. ‘Okay,’ said Abigail, after a moment.
Lena pushed Kayla forwards. ‘Here, Jess will take you. You can go in the café, she knows what to do.’ Kayla gave a skip, happy now. ‘Thanks, Jess,’ Lena said. ‘And thank you, Abigail.’
We headed to the café, Kayla hop-jumping beside me. ‘Tom is Lena’s boyfriend,’ she said.
‘I know,’ I said. And thought, please don’t ask if I’ve a boyfriend too.
There was a queue, but a lady let us go in first. ‘Can you go by yourself?’ I asked Kayla. ‘Don’t lock it and I’ll stand right outside.’
Through the door, I listened to the rustle of clothes and the little sing-song words she mumbled to herself. In the summer warmth, I grew fuzzy and relaxed. Abigail and Lena and Tom and the music. All of my misplaced nerves dissolved. I heard the flush and the bang of the lid. ‘All done?’
Kayla came out and I lifted her up to wash her hands.
When we came back outsi
de, Tom had come off stage. He was down by the railings, with Lena and Abigail. It was hard to make them out against the sun’s rays. At first I was glad to see them together, but then it looked like something weird was happening. I pulled Kayla’s hand, hurrying her up.
By the time we got to them, they’d all stopped talking. They weren’t saying anything. Just a screech of feedback from the speakers and a flush on Lena’s cheeks. ‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘What’s happened?’
Lena began, ‘Abigail—’
But Tom shrugged off the moment, stage-buzzed, smiling. ‘It was nothing,’ he said. ‘Honestly, everything’s fine.’
In the summer sunshine, I smiled back. ‘Great.’
Afterwards, Abigail and I walked Lena and Kayla home. Kayla hung from Lena’s hand, taking little jumps through the air, landing two-footed, slap on the tarmac. Lena stooped down and whispered something to her. For a while Kayla went on taking jumps by herself. Then she reached out and slipped her hand into my cousin’s. Abigail startled, surprised at the touch. Then she looked down at Kayla and I saw her shoulders relax. Lena smiled across at me.
‘Do you know what to do?’ she asked, and Abigail nodded. Our slim shadows flickered ahead of us.
‘One, two, three,’ Lena counted and together they swung Kayla into the air. Kayla shrieked and kicked her heels. A perfect moment. My cousin happy and normal as anyone. I could have freeze-framed that second forever.
We said goodbye at Lena’s front door, and Abigail and I walked back to my house together. As we crossed the playing fields, my cousin pointed into the high blue sky. ‘Is that a swallow?’
I stopped and looked up, following her line. The bird flickered above us in a dip-darting flight. It was a sparrow, and the season was way off, but in that moment what did it matter?
‘Definitely,’ I told her. ‘First swallow of summer.’
Chapter 15
Thursday 20th June:
Day 25
ANNE
On the laptop at the kitchen table, I typed his name into the search bar: Detective Sergeant David McCarthy. I could hardly explain the urge or what it was that unsettled me. It was only the way his grey eyes always looked at me, at my family, as though we were the only ones under suspicion. But he couldn’t know what I’d done, surely he couldn’t. There had to be another reason, I had to believe that; I only needed to find out what it was.
Little White Lies Page 12