Payback

by Gemma Rogers

  ‘I’ll bloody kill him if he did,’ Robyn growled.

  ‘Hang on, we don’t know what happened yet. Perhaps I’ll talk to Gareth and you try to find out more from Hayley?’

  Robyn was the closest one of us to Hayley, they still walked to school together every day.

  ‘Maybe they changed their minds?’ Becca suggested.

  ‘Whatever happened, I don’t think last night worked out for everyone,’ I said, staring out of the window, wishing I was elsewhere. I didn’t want to spoil the atmosphere, but my head wasn’t in the right place for celebration.

  ‘It’s not your fault, Soph,’ Becca said, her mouth pressed into a hard line.

  But what if it was? Should I have seen it coming after what Gareth had said in the kitchen?

  I shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. It was a dirty secret, laughable considering the whole of last night was one big dirty secret. Gareth had made our exchange in the kitchen feel like a betrayal to Hayley, to my friends. If I told them what happened, what he said, would they blame me? I didn’t want to take the chance.

  ‘How about I go and get some crisps and stuff?’ said Becca, already striding towards the door. Maybe all that was needed was a change of subject, a distraction.

  ‘Are you going to see Elliot again?’ Robyn asked. But she didn’t mean ‘see’, she meant sleep with.

  I managed to raise a smile; it was something I’d been thinking about all morning. ‘I don’t know. We did have fun, so maybe, who knows. I guess we’ll have to see what happens when we go back to school. Right now, I’m just praying none of them talk. You know what boys are like, bragging rights.’

  Robyn chewed her lip and cracked her knuckles one by one. I cringed, hating the sound. It turned my insides to jelly. Robyn knew this, but I could tell it was an automatic reaction. ‘I don’t think so. James wouldn’t, I’m sure of it. I’m positive they’ll keep quiet.’

  Later, after lunch, once Becca had given us a blow-by-blow account of Mark’s ‘amazing skills’ – something I doubted – I told them I was going home. On the way back, I passed the agency and kept going. My parents would still be working and time alone with my mind swirling didn’t seem like fun. I had so many unanswered questions, the whole thing was stressing me out. I wanted to know what had happened and, more importantly, how I could fix whatever I’d broken. Perhaps I was overreacting. No one else seemed too concerned.

  I knocked on the green door, knowing the bell didn’t work. The paint was splintered in various places and long overdue for a fresh coat. It was as familiar to me as my own front door.

  Craig answered, his face pale and clammy, eyes red-rimmed. Had he been smoking weed? ‘What?’ he snapped.

  I recoiled, slipping back off the step onto the uneven path.

  He turned to leave, and Gareth emerged from the hallway in his place.

  ‘What’s his problem?’ I said, annoyed that he’d made me jump.

  ‘Nothing. He’s fine,’ Gareth snapped.

  ‘What’s got into you?’ I asked, taken aback at the hostility emanating from him.

  ‘What do you want, Sophie?’ Gareth looked resigned, like I was here to waste his time. I wasn’t sure what sort of reaction I expected, but I didn’t think I’d be left standing on the doorstep.

  ‘I want to know what happened last night?’ Anger burned in my belly.

  ‘Nothing happened. I went home,’ he hissed, closing the door so it was only open wide enough to fit his face through the gap. I didn’t know what to say. Gareth’s face was twisted, his eyebrows scrunched together. I guessed he felt rejected, pissed off we weren’t paired up. Maybe also pissed everyone went through with it. We’d all lost our virginity except for him and Hayley. ‘Go home, Sophie. I’ll see you at school.’ Gareth shook his head as the green door closed in my face.

  25

  October 2018

  It was going to be like ripping a plaster off. I was going to lift the lid fast and get it over and done with. I hesitated, chewing my thumbnail which had started to become gnarly. I could throw the box back outside, let the dustmen take it, but I knew that wasn’t an option.

  I grabbed the top on either side and lifted it in one swift movement. I saw something black and circular move and I jumped halfway across the kitchen. Floating out of the box, to the ceiling, was a black balloon with white string, spinning of its own accord. My heart raced as I peered into the box to check if there was anything else, but it was empty. I sat looking up at the balloon until the message on the front gradually came into view. SLUT in large white capital letters, written in what looked to be Tipp-Ex.

  ‘Nice,’ I said, grimacing and pulling on the string to take a closer look. I snapped a photo and sent it to James, with the caption ‘You shouldn’t have’. Hopefully he would see the funny side. I didn’t much like balloons, they seemed to wander around without purpose, moving for no apparent reason. I had to admit they kind of freaked me out, but I wasn’t sure if anyone knew that. The message on the front was the point and I guessed it alluded to my being the organiser of that night.

  It didn’t seem like whoever was doing this was going away, but at the same time I wasn’t sure it was serious enough to go to the police. I felt threatened and a little scared if I was honest, but I didn’t want them to think I was just another neurotic woman, living alone and afraid of her shadow. Other than the rat, there hadn’t been anything meant to cause harm to me or the business. Could I be one hundred per cent positive someone had been inside the flat? I mean, I thought they had, with the cross on the photo, and the door being left open, but I couldn’t prove it. Mainly, the contact seemed almost childlike, angry yes, malicious even, but I didn’t believe I was in any physical danger. It felt like I was the victim of some kind of hate campaign and just had to ride it out.

  James pinged back with a ‘WTF’ followed by a line of exclamation marks before calling to find out what happened. As I told him about my ‘gift’, I grabbed a small knife from the stand and pricked a hole in the balloon, hearing it wheeze as it deflated. It sat, sad and wrinkled, on the table. It least now it would fit into the bin.

  It was midweek when I heard from Becca. She rang in the evening once she’d put the children to bed. Mark was at work and she was settling down to watch a drama on ITV.

  ‘I thought I’d give you a quick ring. Mark can’t find anything on Hayley Keeble, nothing at all. Nothing on the electoral roll, no death or marriage certificates, no driving licence and no criminal record. It’s so odd, it’s like she’s vanished into thin air.’

  I sat back in my armchair, scanning the room.

  ‘No missing person report or anything?’ I said, thinking aloud.

  ‘Can you remember what her parents were called?’ Becca asked. I could hear the television in the background getting louder.

  ‘No, but I’ll ask my mum, or maybe Robyn might remember?’

  ‘Yeah I’ll try her.’

  ‘Tell Mark thanks for looking. I’ll let you go. I’ll call you at the weekend for a catch-up. Be safe yeah?’

  Becca agreed and rang off.

  I stared out of the window looking at the drizzle speckling the glass. How could someone disappear? Unless, she didn’t want to be found. If that was the case, then why? Probably because she’s sending you these bloody messages piped up the voice in my head. The whole thing didn’t sit right with me. Had something happened to Hayley all those years ago? We saw her after that night at school and then at the Halloween get-together. She seemed normal enough. I remember Robyn saying Hayley didn’t want to talk about what had happened with Gareth when they walked to school together on the first day back. She was quiet, but then she always was the quietest of us all. I don’t remember her acting strangely.

  Gareth too seemed fine as long as no one mentioned losing their virginity. He got a bit stroppy then, but we all collectively assumed he and Hayley hadn’t gone through with it. None of us were going to force the issue when they were both clearly embarrassed and unwill
ing to talk about it.

  It wasn’t until the next day that all hell broke loose. I got a call from Becca mid-morning when I was out with Frank dealing with a difficult client. He was unhappy with the level of service, even though we’d marketed his terrace house as best we could. He’d had no offers, but he wouldn’t reduce the price, even though we’d spoken about his suggestion being too high. He wouldn’t have it and wanted to instruct another agent to sell alongside us, believing the competition might motivate us.

  I ignored the call from Becca at the time, but when we’d finished with the man and got outside, I listened to the voicemail and it felt like someone had punched me in the gut. My legs disintegrated to mush and Frank, seeing me wobble, held me upright by the elbow.

  ‘What’s happened? Is it your dad?’ Frank’s face etched with concern.

  I shook my head quickly, still listening but not wanting Frank to panic. Becca said someone had set fire to her car on the driveway last night whilst Mark was at work. It wasn’t long after we’d spoken. The front of the house had been damaged too and she and the kids had to stay in a hotel. The police were involved, and she’d told them about us receiving threatening messages.

  I tried to call Becca back, but it kept going to voicemail. Maybe she was on the phone to Robyn? I told Frank not to worry and head back to the office while I called James to fill him in. He sounded nervous and said we should all be more careful as it was one hell of an escalation.

  I was on edge all day and jumped at the chance to head to The Boar after work with the others. Anything to put off going home alone. Gary was in a weirdly jovial mood and had the team in stitches, telling us about a speed-dating event he went to at the weekend. I tried to join in but couldn’t pretend I was as enthused as the others, although glad for the company.

  ‘Are you all right, Sophie?’ Hope leant in to whisper in my ear.

  ‘Yeah fine, just stuff going on, that’s all.’

  ‘You might feel better if you talk about it?’

  ‘Someone’s dragging up old bullshit from my past. It’s ancient history and I’ve got no idea who is doing it or why it matters now.’ I sighed. It had slipped out, I hadn’t meant to say anything at all, but Hope was right. There had been a small shift in weight upon my shoulders.

  Hope took a sip of her drink, considering her response. Gary’s voice was loud, drowning the two of us out with ease.

  ‘Maybe, you need to work out why it matters?’ she suggested, eyes wide as she slurped her straw.

  ‘I have no fucking idea why we’re being punished,’ I said, more to myself than to Hope.

  ‘We?’

  ‘Some old friends.’ I’d said too much already. It wasn’t something I wanted to talk about, but maybe Hope was right. I know Mark tried to search for Hayley, but what if there was another way? ‘I have to go,’ I said, putting two twenty-pound notes on the table and winking at Frank.

  He eyed me suspiciously and I saw him make to stand. I waved him away. He didn’t look convinced but sat back down, letting me go.

  I wanted to drive to Mum and Dad’s, but I’d had more than one glass of wine and didn’t want to risk it. Instead, I rushed home and rang, getting through the pleasantries as fast as I could.

  ‘Mum, I’m trying to track down Hayley. I remember her dad was some army officer, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, I believe so, I didn’t know them well though.’

  ‘Do you remember what her mum did?’ I needed information to help me find them, but all I knew was the surname and the army connection.

  ‘I think she was a nurse, she worked on the children’s ward at St. Mary’s.’

  ‘Do you remember her name?’

  ‘Jackie, I think, Jacqueline maybe?’

  ‘That’s great, Mum, thanks,’ I said, keen to get off the phone and start googling.

  ‘What’s this all about, Sophie?’ I could hear her voice wavering at the other end.

  ‘I’m trying to find her, that’s all, get the old gang back together again,’ I said, my voice a touch too high. I hated lying to my mum, but I knew she’d only worry; she was as bad as Frank. I was sure she didn’t believe me, but she wished me good luck with the search and said she’d call tomorrow.

  I put my pyjamas on and made a cup of tea and some toast, trying to avoid getting butter all over my keyboard, but I was hungry and impatient. I googled Jackie Keeble and Jacqueline Keeble. Nothing came up. I tried adding the word nurse, but that led to nothing relevant. Frustratingly I couldn’t find anything on the army side either. It was as though the entire Keeble family had dropped off the grid.

  26

  October 2018

  The next day, I asked Frank to man the office as I needed to go out. He still wore the same concerned expression he’d had the night before. As though it had been there all night and the wind had changed, leaving it permanently stuck.

  ‘Don’t look so worried,’ I said, giving him what I hoped was a reassuring pat on the arm. Frank was so protective. It was like working with my dad.

  ‘But I do worry, love. What’s going on? Talk to me.’

  ‘I will, I promise, just not right now.’ I knew I’d be heartbroken when he retired. Gary had some big boots to fill.

  I jumped in the car and headed to St. Mary’s hospital. It was the only avenue I had and I needed to start somewhere. The name Keeble hadn’t come up anywhere, on any social media or google searches. There were hundreds of people with the surname, but I couldn’t find the Hayley, or Jacqueline I was looking for. On the way, I left a message for Becca to check that her and the girls were okay. I was sure Mark had them hidden away and his search for Hayley would have stepped up a gear too.

  On entering the hospital, I wasn’t sure how useful the trip would be, but I had no alternative. The paediatric ward was called Maple and I buzzed the entrance to be allowed in, asking to speak to the ward manager. A stern wiry lady greeted me at the desk, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. Her eyes lingered on my face, trying to ascertain why I was there if I wasn’t a visitor.

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you, I’m trying to find a nurse.’

  ‘Do you know her name?’ The nurse pursed her lips and I sensed she wasn’t going to be forthcoming.

  ‘Her name is Jackie Keeble, full name Jacqueline, but she doesn’t work here any more. It was twenty years ago.’

  The nurse made a sound like a cushion that had been jumped on. ‘Well, there might not be much I can do for you. Hang on, let me ask Valerie.’

  Surprised and encouraged by her willingness to help, I thanked her repeatedly. She left the desk and wandered along one of the wards, stopping to ask a doctor on his rounds if he’d seen Valerie.

  I waited by the desk, taking in the coloured murals on the walls. It all looked so cheery; it was meant to, but no child should ever have to stay in hospital. The surrounding corridors were far too quiet, which told me they must care for some extremely poorly children.

  The nurse returned, bringing with her a stout woman, whose pristine uniform and gleaming white clogs signalled to me that she was old-school. She looked like a matron, her face was lined and weather-beaten, but she peered at me over her glasses with a quizzical smile.

  ‘This lady is looking for Jackie Keeble. You’ve been here since day dot; do you remember her?’

  ‘Jackie, yes I remember Jackie. Goodness, that was years ago! She was only here for a short while; husband was in the army if I remember rightly?’

  I nodded, this was easier than I thought. ‘Yes, that’s right. I went to school with her daughter. I’ve been trying to track her down. I believe Jackie left as her husband was stationed somewhere at short notice.’

  Are you sure?’ she said, staring off into the distance, lines forming on her forehead as she searched the depths of her memory.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Her daughter got into trouble, that’s why they moved. Not because of her husband, although he arranged it all I believe.’

  My mou
th dropped open and I took a second to regain my composure. She had to be mistaken. ‘What sort of trouble?’ I didn’t remember Hayley getting into any trouble at school. She was always well-behaved and compliant with the teachers. She never gave her parents any cause for alarm.

  ‘There’s only one sort of trouble with girls that age, love.’ Valerie laughed and gave me a wink.

  There was no mistaking what Valerie meant. Could it be true? I felt rooted to the spot, my mind spinning with so many questions. ‘You don’t remember where they moved to, do you?’

  ‘I believe they went to Oxford, somewhere near there, but it was a long time ago.’ I had no doubt that Valerie had the memory of an elephant. She smiled at me for a second before I could see her attention turn to something else and she signalled with a nod of the head to the other nurse. ‘Right, come on, Pru, can you give me a hand changing Amy’s bed, she’s had an accident.’ Pru and Valerie turned to leave, bustling down the corridor as I remained frozen, unsure what to do next.

  ‘Can you let yourself out pet?’ Pru called over her shoulder and I glided towards the door, pressed the green exit button and wandered out of the hospital in a daze.

  I joined the smokers, congregated around a bench and stood a few yards away, lighting a cigarette. I felt unconnected to my body, like I was floating beside it. Hayley was pregnant? How was that possible? My stomach lurched, nausea hitting in waves, struggling to absorb the revelation that shocked my core. I racked my brain, sorting through the memories.

  The ‘coming of age’ gathering was at the end of the school holidays and Hayley left six or seven weeks later, at the end of October half-term. Could Gareth have got her pregnant? I didn’t think anything happened between them. That was the impression we’d all been given. Why would they lie? The admission blew me away and I struggled to get my head around that being the reason the Keebles left. But it did make sense. Hayley’s father was proud and strict. I could imagine him whisking her away to get the problem sorted. Starting afresh somewhere new, where no one would know their secret. But where exactly?