by Zoe Lea
Don’t grab a snake by the neck.
After a quick search, I had the number. It was effortless, perfect. HMRC fraud hotline. And I couldn’t believe I was actually going to do it, but then I’d hear Janine’s words in my head, the way Ashley had grinned at me and, before I knew what I was doing, I’d dialled the number. The phone call took minutes, a few details was all that was needed. Totally anonymous. I told them I suspected tax evasion, the cash-in-hand jobs that were being undertaken by her tutoring company. I had her name, address, Facebook page – it was easy and simple and done very quickly. They thanked me. They promised immediate action. I replaced the handset with shaking hands. A giddy high feeling working its way up through my stomach. I was in awe at how simple and effective the whole thing had been. It had taken minutes, that was all, minutes. A simple accusation and Janine and her Top Marks tutoring business were now under investigation by HMRC for tax evasion. They’d want receipts, invoices, records and accounts. Janine’s life was about to get a whole lot messier. I almost phoned them back to say I’d got it wrong, to say that I wanted to take the accusation back. I ran a small business, I lived in fear of HMRC, so I could well imagine how she’d feel knowing she was under investigation. But then I heard her voice again, heard John tell me to give till after half term, and it gave me the impetus to make a second phone call.
One to the local paper.
‘I’d like to remain anonymous,’ I told them, ‘but I’ve a story about a local businesswoman. The head of the PTA at St Ambrose and St Stephen’s primary school who also runs Top Marks Tutoring.’ I took a deep breath. ‘She’s under investigation for tax evasion,’ I told them. ‘She’s been fiddling her books, paying local teachers cash in hand and not declaring her earnings, and now there is a huge investigation into her business.’ I was breathless, shocked almost at the words coming out of my mouth. ‘I just think your readers deserve to know that if any of them are using her tutoring company, they should know they’re being scammed. The money they’re paying her is going straight into her pocket and not back into the community.’
They were eager for more details. I told them that she had links with all the local schools. I made her sound bigger than she was, as if she was running some huge tax evasion scheme and half the teachers in Carlisle were on board. I told them what the person at HMRC had told me, gave them the contact number I had just rung.
‘Have you any proof?’ the journalist asked after taking down the details. ‘Anyone who works for Top Marks? A teacher perhaps?’
‘Lisa Gleason,’ I told them. ‘She’s a teacher at the school and works for Janine in the holidays, and I doubt she’s declared any of her earnings.’
I ended the call and could almost see the headline: ‘HMRC launch campaign into local tax-evading teachers’. Perhaps accompanied by a picture of a distressed Janine, the mastermind behind the fraud. I waited for a feeling of relief to wash over me, but my anxiety was still sky high and then I realised it would only be over when the investigation started. When they got the phone call, when their attention was taken away from me and onto something much more important. Thankfully, that was about to happen.
‘Janine Walker,’ I said softly. ‘Lisa Gleason. Your lives are about to get a whole lot worse.’
FIFTEEN
HMP ROSSETFUL PRISON, CHESHIRE
21 JUNE
I’ve been moved.
They brought me here as I’m a category A prisoner, I should never have been in Westmorland so long as I’m classed as highly dangerous to the public. Me. Highly dangerous. It’s ludicrous. It would be funny if I wasn’t so afraid. The other people here are real criminals, sex offenders, firearms offences. People who have committed real crime and I’m not like them, I did nothing wrong.
I realise it will be harder for you to visit me here. It will be a longer journey for you, but I still expect you to come. I know you. I know you have a conscience, you may think that you can bottle what we did up, but you won’t be able to for much longer.
I saw this in the library the other day and thought of you. It’s a simple test, a series of questions to determine whether you have a personality disorder. I know it’s not medically certified but if you answered these questions and then looked at the outcome, I’m hoping it will give you an insight into what everyone else sees in you when you let them get close enough.
Try it.
Answer them honestly, especially question 16: Have you ever hurt someone intentionally? I did a little experiment and did the test as if I was you. I answered the questions as I think you would’ve answered them and then looked at the results. Do you want to know what they said?
They said you had a narcissistic personality disorder.
You believe you are special, different and more deserving. You resent other people’s success. You take advantage and put your needs above others. Sound familiar? Like something you might have heard or said before?
I wonder if you treat everyone like this, children as well as adults. That would explain a lot wouldn’t it, if you treated children with this level of narcissism?
But, as I said, the test is not conclusive.
It didn’t ask the question if you were capable of murder.
It didn’t ask if you would leave someone rotting in a prison cell when you knew they weren’t guilty.
I think the results would come back very different then, they would most probably declare you psychotic.
Forgive me, I’m tired. I’m not sleeping well. They had us up in the night doing a physical, some sort of new regime they have here and I’m not adapting. I can feel myself fading, giving in. If I die in here then you’ll be responsible for two deaths, not one.
Answer me this question: Do you ever feel guilty about what happened?
SIXTEEN
‘You look happy, what’s going on?’
We were sat outside enjoying the late September sunshine. Everyone was calling it an Indian summer. The hot weather had continued into the weekend and, that Saturday afternoon, I held my face up to the sun and enjoyed the sensation of it on my face.
I looked over the field at the back of my mother’s house, trying to work out where her boundary ended. It was at least half an acre. At one time it was used as a paddock and the remains of outbuildings were over by the far wall. Stone buildings that were decrepit and falling down, that should really be removed as they were dangerous, but they added to the character of the place. So long as Sam or the dog didn’t go near them, they were fine.
I turned to where I could hear him, over by the field that led on to the farmer’s land. There was no real separation from what was meant to be my mother’s garden and the farmer’s field that was adjacent. Several times we’d asked for the fencing to be increased, as Mum would often find sheep grazing a little too close to the house, and there was a small fence but it was ineffective. But as my mother didn’t have a gardener and the only person that occasionally went out there to play was Sam, we didn’t see the urgency.
‘He’s fine,’ my mother said, as I leaned forward in an effort to see Sam. ‘Really, let the boy run about. What harm can he come to out here?’
I sat back, then after a moment, turned my face up to the sky.
‘No more rapid heartbeat then?’ I asked her, and she made a huffing sound.
‘Was probably just a bit of trapped wind, like you said.’
I smiled. ‘Good,’ I said lazily. ‘I brought you some peppermint tablets, I’ll put them in the medical cupboard with everything else you’ve got there.’
We were silent for a moment.
‘So why so happy?’ my mother asked, and I turned to her.
‘Does something have to be going on for me to be happy?’
I smiled. I was feeling something close to happy and I was milking the feeling for everything I could. I hadn’t enjoyed being like this in an age. After making the phone call to HMRC and the local paper, I’d been relishing the outcome. The headlines and the downfall of Janine’s tutoring bu
siness. Because I figured once everyone got wind that she was being investigated, they’d be reluctant to work for her. I didn’t know for sure, but I was pretty certain that most teachers wouldn’t have declared their earnings from Top Marks. Becca had said it was all cash in hand, and as they all had full-time contracts at school, it would be easy for them to take the money and not declare any of it. The thought of her being without tutors, HMRC breathing down her neck, made me smile.
Even Sam had noticed my change in mood for the better, telling me when I collected him from after-school club that my face was all ‘shiny’. But he was happier as well, Toby had been absent from school again, and as a result Sam had been OK.
‘You’re up to something,’ my mother said, adjusting her glasses, ‘I can tell. Is it to do with you not letting Will have Sammy this weekend?’
And just like that, any happiness I felt evaporated. It only took the mention of his name for the anxiety to start nipping. I’d still not found anywhere for us to go at half term. The prices of even a caravan were extortionate in the school holidays. No credit card companies had agreed the loan I was asking for, so at this rate it was going to be a tent on a piece of land somewhere, because at the moment I couldn’t even afford the campsite fees.
‘He came to the house.’
My mother took in a sharp breath. ‘What for? Jean never said he’d been around to your house. She said nothing of that!’
I took off my sunglasses and stared at my mother.
‘I saw her in M&S,’ my mother said quickly. ‘I didn’t go looking for her, we just bumped into each other in footwear.’ A pained expression came over her face. ‘She was ever so upset. Told me that you’d cancelled the visit, and she was so looking forward to seeing Sammy. She said she’d got his favourite food in, double cheeseburger and chocolate cake, and then Will says you’ve changed your mind. That she can’t have him.’
I liked Jean, Will’s mother, had always got on with her. She’d been more of a friend than a mother-in-law, but when Will left, although she was upset, although she cried with me over his actions, called him names and swore at him, he was still her son and that’s where her loyalty lay.
‘He came to the door,’ I said, ‘shouting all kinds of things, accusing me of being a bad mother, and then –’ I took a steadying breath ‘– he said he’s going to get the social involved. He’s going to take me to court and try for full custody of Sam.’
My mother’s eyes went wide, her mouth dropped open.
‘Will, have full custody of our Sammy?’
She looked out to where Sam was playing in the field.
‘But he didn’t even want him! When he left he never saw him!’
I was nodding.
‘Jean doesn’t know any of this!’ she said. ‘I’ve a mind to call her, to ring her up with what that waste of space of a son—’
‘Jean won’t do anything,’ I said, ‘and she probably doesn’t know about it. It didn’t sound like she did, it sounded like it was all Will.’
‘So that’s why you didn’t let him have Sam this weekend?’ my mother asked. ‘Why you stopped him from going?’
I nodded.
‘And Will, just turning up out of the blue like that?’
I hesitated, unsure whether to tell my mother about Janine. About Rob calling Will.
‘He just turned up,’ I said, deciding against telling her everything. ‘I’ve no idea where this has all come from.’
‘Probably that new woman he’s with.’
I turned to her suddenly.
She held up her hands. ‘I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to upset you, but he’s not with the one he left you for. Jean says he’s with someone else now, someone young.’
I took a moment.
‘I don’t care who he’s with,’ I said, and then remembered that he’d told me he was getting married. That he was starting a new family that he wanted Sam to be a part of.
‘Has she got children?’ I asked my mother. ‘This new woman of his? Do you know who she is?’
My mother shook her head. ‘Jean only told me that he’s a new woman and it’s quite serious.’
So that was it. Will was with someone new. Someone serious. Someone he probably wanted to appear like a good father to. He was so transparent at times it was sickening.
We were quiet for a moment.
‘If I was like Jean,’ my mother said quietly, ‘if Will got full custody, and I was depending on him to let me … ’
‘I know,’ I said, and leaned over to squeeze her hand. ‘I know. And I’m hoping it won’t come to that. I’ve told Will I’m taking Sam on holiday, this half term.’
My mother stared at me.
‘Will was accusing me of having no money, of being scared to go out.’
‘But you haven’t got any money,’ my mother said, ‘and you don’t like going out. You hate going anywhere crowded.’
I bristled slightly. ‘I’m taking Sam on holiday to prove to Will that it’s not true. That Sam isn’t suffering.’
‘Sam isn’t suffering!’
I turned to my mother. ‘You’re not following,’ I said. ‘Will’s trying to incriminate my ability to care for Sam. He’s going to claim to the social that I’m denying Sam things because I’ve no money and because I don’t like going out. Me taking Sam on holiday is to prove that isn’t the case.’ I put my sunglasses back on. ‘I just have to figure out how I’m going to do that.’
We were quiet, listening to the dog bark and Sam’s shouts.
‘That was a bit of a daft thing to say,’ my mother said after a while, and I nodded.
‘I kind of told Will I was taking Sam to Disney.’
‘Disney!’
I couldn’t look at my mother’s face. I knew exactly what her expression would be. Wide eyes, wide mouth.
‘I’m not asking for money,’ I said. ‘I just, well, that’s what’s going on. That’s why I said Will couldn’t have Sam.’
We were silent again.
‘Sammy wouldn’t like Disney anyway.’
‘I know.’
‘Too many crowds and you’d never get him on the plane.’
‘I know, but that was kind of the point as to why I told Will I was taking him. To prove that Sam’s not like that any more.’
‘But he is,’ said my mother, and we were both quiet. ‘He has panic attacks if he has to go into a crowd.’
‘And so do I,’ I said, and my mother reached out her hand to me.
We sat holding hands as the air got colder around us. A flock of geese flew by overhead and we both looked up to watch them.
‘You know I’d do anything for you and Sammy,’ she said. ‘Anything at all. Your brother living in Canada is useless – you and Sam are all I’ve got. If Will took him, and I could only see him like Jean does, well … ’
I turned to face my mother, shivering a little in the chill. It was time we went inside, but neither of us moved.
‘I just have to figure out how to handle it.’ I paused a moment. ‘And I’ve a bit of an idea. I did something the other day,’ I said, as Sam darted around the side of the house, the dog chasing after him. ‘There’s this new teacher at school, Glen—’
‘Aha!’ my mother suddenly cut in. ‘I knew there was a reason you looked happy. What’s he like? Good looking?’
‘Mum –’ I shook my head ‘– he did something, something in the staffroom and it made me realise that I’ve been handling this whole situation with Will wrong. All these years, I’ve just been reacting to what he throws at me, but I need to think smarter than that.’
My mother stared at me, waiting for me to explain.
‘Sort of like, he picks up a knife to fight me with, so I pick up a knife to defend myself, where really, I should be picking up a gun.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Love, I’m not sure what you’re getting at.’
‘Like that,’ I said, pointing to the field that Sam was running towards. ‘We really need to get the f
armer to partition it off. If we ever come to sell this place.’
‘We’re never selling,’ my mother said quickly. ‘That was why I put you on the mortgage. We’re never selling this place, it’s being kept in the family, it’ll be Sammy’s one day—’
‘Well, for your own peace of mind then,’ I interrupted her, ‘to get rid of the sheep. We’ve tried asking the farmer, we’ve tried reporting him to the council, but we shouldn’t be fighting him like that if we want to get results. Instead we should … ’ I thought for a moment. ‘We should take one of his sheep.’
My mother frowned.
‘OK, we’re not actually going to take a sheep, but he won’t build a fence if we ask him to do it; we need to force him to do it.’
My mother looked off for a moment. Sam was running up the field slowly. He came to a stop, resting his hands on his knees while he caught his breath, the dog running around him, barking loudly.
‘So, you mean,’ she began, ‘if instead of taking Sam on a holiday to prove what a great mother you are to Will, you prove what a bad father he is instead?’
‘Exactly!’ I said, and felt a rush in my chest. ‘That’s exactly what I need to do. I shouldn’t be reacting to him, flapping about, trying to sort out a holiday to prove something to Will because of what he accuses me of. I should be focusing on what Will is doing wrong.’ I closed my eyes, the idea of it just forming. ‘I need to find out what Will’s vulnerable sheep is and attack that.’
I opened my eyes and my mother nodded. ‘Guerrilla warfare, isn’t that what they call it? Attacking small to exhaust the enemy and weaken them until they can’t fight any more? It was on the history channel, I’m sure of it. But in order to do that,’ she said, ‘you need to let Will have Sam, don’t you? So you can prove he’s a bad father?’
I sat back, thinking. She was right. The only thing I had against Will at the moment was that he didn’t want to see Sam for a year when he first left us, but now he did.
‘You can’t show social services how bad a father Will is if he never has Sam and –’ she put her hand on my arm ‘– if you do let Jean have Sammy again, then Will might drop the whole thing anyway. You know what he’s like. Will never sticks with anything, but not letting Jean have Sam, well, that might push him to actually go to the social.’
