by R. G. Adams
‘Annie, I really think it would be better if—’ Dai started.
But there was no stopping her. She stood up and faced them, her arms crossed in front of her body and her face defiant. ‘I believe I asked you to leave my home. I don’t think you can stay without my consent. Am I right?’
She was absolutely right. They both stood up and made their way into the hall, Annie Cooper following closely behind them. No one spoke. Kit opened the front door with relief and Dai followed her out. Then Kit realised that he had turned on the doorstep behind her and was about to have another try. It was a lost cause, Kit knew.
‘Annie, can I just say—’
‘No, you can’t.’ She slammed the door in his face with an almighty bang.
They set off down the drive together, not speaking until they were well out of earshot.
‘Debrief?’ Dai asked her when they reached her car. ‘You can leave your car at mine, pick it up in the morning?’
Kit was tempted, but she was too tired, and still shaky. She couldn’t even face the beach, she just wanted to go home. ‘Sorry, Dai, I can’t tonight.’ She unlocked her car and reached into her pocket for her cigarettes.
‘OK then. Perhaps it’s best, I think Martin’s planning a casserole.’ Dai’s partner had recently retired from a very demanding job in the tax office. He had taken up cooking to fill his time. Dai gave the impression he rather dreaded Martin’s efforts; Kit suspected he secretly yearned for the days of takeaways and microwave meals. ‘Give me a bell in the morning, though. Looks like you’ll have your work cut out with this one, eh?’
Kit nodded in agreement. She lit a fag and opened the car door, then got in, immediately lowering the window as the heat of the car enveloped her.
‘What’s up?’ Dai had seen her expression.
‘It’s just . . . we’ve wrecked their lives, haven’t we?’
‘You’re wondering whether we did the right thing? Whether he could really be guilty?’
‘Yeah. I guess that’s it.’
‘We didn’t have a choice, Kit. I know it’s hard, they seem like a lovely family. But if the allegations are true, those kids are at risk. That’s the long and the short of it. Plus, if he is abusing them, and we leave him there, he’s got time to work on them and make certain they don’t tell. If he can’t be alone with them, then he can’t be accused of that later down the line, so it protects him, too.’
‘I suppose so.’ But Kit wasn’t reassured. As she started the car engine and drove away, she glanced at the Coopers’ house in the rear-view mirror, feeling horrified by her own power. She knew that if Matt Cooper was guilty, his family would suffer the consequences alongside him. But if he was innocent, the allegations themselves might well be enough to ruin him, especially in the claustrophobic atmosphere of Sandbeach. Either way, she had just altered the direction of the Cooper family’s lives forever.
Chapter 3
On the way home, Kit heard her phone buzzing over and over again. Her throat tightened slightly, which she told herself was ridiculous. It could be anyone. She pulled over and rummaged in her handbag, finally picking the phone out from underneath a wodge of tissues and chewing-gum packets. She flipped it over. And, of course, it was Tyler. Three missed calls.
‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ she muttered to herself. Then she thought about the date. Tyler’s benefits weren’t due for another three days, and by now he would have run out of money. She sighed and then tapped out a text.
I’m on way home now
She sent the message and put the phone in her pocket. Then she drove on, wondering how much he needed this time. Out of the five Goddard kids, Tyler had always been her biggest worry. At least Jazz and Josie had families and homes, although in Josie’s case it was dubious whether she was going to avoid the booze for long enough to hang on to either. But she was giving it a go, and Jazz was doing fine, she had even got a job in a call centre. But Tyler had struggled to get it together when he first got out of secure, and although he was doing better, there had been plenty of slip-ups along the way. Two doing OK, two dodgy and one dead. Not a great record, she thought. Bloody Christine, what a waste of space she’d been as a mother.
*
Kit drove the long way home so that she could pass the beach. It made her feel better, reminding her of the summer holidays when she still lived at home, when she’d go to the beach every day with Tyler and Danny. They’d set up camp in the same spot, lie on towels and bake in the sun until they couldn’t stand it, then run into the cold water and swim out as far as they could, past the life buoys that were meant to keep them safe. She missed swimming with Tyler and she wondered whether they’d ever get that back now.
Arriving home, she parked in her designated space outside the flats. She could see Tyler waiting for her at the main door. He was standing up straight, and, once she got out of the car and got nearer, she could see that he definitely looked sober. This was good news. Tyler was unable to resist temptation and totally oblivious to risk. He loved a good time and never thought twice about where it might lead. But she knew how hard he’d been trying to sort himself out recently, and she was starting to think he might actually manage it.
‘All right, Krystal?’ He was grinning as she came up the path.
She stuck her middle finger up at him. ‘No one calls me that anymore.’ But she was smiling. He wound her up like no one else could. But he could make her laugh, too, especially at herself. She didn’t tolerate that from many people. She hadn’t seen much of the fun side of Tyler in the past few years and she was starting to enjoy being around him again, now that she didn’t have to be looking after him and sorting him out. It was early days, though, and she was still wary about the reason for this unexpected visit.
She opened the main door to the block and they made their way up the stairs to the first floor. Inside, she passed by the flashing answering machine, deciding to leave it for later. It would be Menna, checking in to see if Kit was OK, as she did every couple of days. Kit went straight into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Really, she wanted a drink, but she didn’t want Tyler to have one. ‘Coffee?’ she asked him.
‘Got any vodka?’
‘No,’ she lied. She made him a coffee with three sugars and took it through to the living room, where they sat down on the sofa. Tyler was looking around the room.
‘It looks like no one lives here. You ought to get some stuff.’
‘What stuff?’
‘I dunno. Ornaments and that.’
He was right, of course. She looked around the room. The flat was a modern, neat little box. The rooms had all been painted magnolia and white when she’d moved in six months ago and she’d left them that way. She thought it looked fresh and light, and she was glad of it after the chaos of Huw and Menna’s rambling, cluttered house. But she realised now that it looked bare, and she had no idea how to make it feel like her home. She didn’t even know what her taste was, what she liked or didn’t like.
’I don’t know what to put in it really.’
‘Yeah, I know what you mean. Get some pictures or something. Remember that girl, what was her name?’
‘Maddie.’ Kit remembered the story well. Maddie had been a mate of Tyler’s for a while, a right mess. She’d left care at sixteen and gone into a flat, just like Kit’s. Tyler had been to see her, and he’d come back to tell Kit that Maddie had a pinboard on her living-room wall, covered with photos of the staff from Redbridge House. Including one of a support worker who had just come back to work after three weeks of sick leave caused by Maddie losing it one night and chucking a kettle full of boiling water over his arm.
‘Sad cow. Like they were her family or something,’ Tyler said, rolling his eyes.
‘Yeah,’ Kit agreed, but she thought that he was being both mean and stupid. He knew as well as she did that the staff were the closest thing that Maddie had t
o a family. But she didn’t want to start a row, and let it pass. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her neck, trying to ease the tension in it.
‘Bad day?’ Tyler asked her.
‘Yeah, shocking.’
‘Serves you right, though, really.’
‘Thanks very much.’
‘Welcome.’ He meant the job. No one in her family had been able to understand why she wanted to do it. They all held social workers responsible for what had happened to them, more than they blamed Christine. This had never seemed logical at all to Kit, though, when it was the social workers who had finally managed to get them all away from her. But then, none of the rest of them had ended up being fostered by Menna and Huw in their big house at Cliffside. Kit knew that if she had had to stay in Redbridge House, she probably wouldn’t have felt particularly grateful either. Still, his remark irritated her.
‘What are you here for anyway? Money?’
‘Don’t need it.’ Tyler gulped his coffee. ‘Got any biscuits?’
‘In the tin. What do you mean, you don’t need it?’ But Tyler had gone into the kitchen. He came back with the biscuit tin and started searching through it for a chocolate one.
‘Ty, what do you mean, you don’t need it? Have you been dealing again? Because if you have, I am not going to be able to help you this—’
‘No, I bloody haven’t, as a matter of fact. I’ve got some money left this week, that’s all.’
Kit was instantly suspicious. ‘Where did you get the money from, Tyler?’
‘I told you. I kept it. I don’t only come over here for money, you know,’ he said.
‘Bollocks.’
‘Well, all right. But not this time. I made my money last the whole week and I’ve come to visit my little sister.’ He grinned at her again. She was the younger by just six minutes. ‘Might even have enough for a takeaway if you’re too lazy to cook me anything.’
Kit stared at him. What the hell was he up to?
‘Don’t look so worried,’ he told her. ‘I’m sorting myself out, that’s all. That’s what you’re always telling me, so you should be happy, I reckon. You can stop nagging my face off now.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Look, I’ve got a new probation officer.’
‘So?’ This was hardly an explanation for anything. Tyler had been through any number of probation officers. Not to mention social workers, support workers, advocates, lawyers and psychologists. He’d played every single one of them, as far as she could see.
‘This one’s different. She gets me.’
‘“Gets you” in what way?’ Kit was trying to stay calm, but she needed this like she needed a hole in the head. Tyler’s ability to play the game was in no small part due to his astonishing good looks. She’d always suffered a bit in comparison. Like all the girls in the family, she’d inherited Christine’s tendency to mousiness, whereas the boys had landed Gino’s striking colouring. Every girl on the estate had known and admired the Goddard boys. Kit had had several worries about taking her first social-work job in her old hometown – the main one being that she might end up taking kids into care who would later turn out to be her own nephews and nieces. Tyler loved female attention, and females loved him. So far, this had enabled him to evade all the questions he didn’t like and to avoid facing up to anything much. Worse, there had been a few incidents of outright unprofessional behaviour from women who Kit could only assume had been drawn to the caring field by a worrying penchant for the heartthrob/crim combo. She stared at him now, his muscular frame stretched out on her couch, an infuriating grin on his cocky face.
‘What’s up with you, arsey? Girls find me irresistible, I can’t help that.’
‘Women. And it’s inappropriate when it’s their job to help you. I’ve told you that loads of times. It’s not a joke.’
‘I don’t see why, but all right, don’t start. I’m being a good boy, doing what you said. Even if it is a load of crap.’
‘Don’t smile at me like that, you’re not funny, you’re annoying as fuck. You don’t take anything seriously. That last woman lost her job because of you.’
‘Yeah, well, it could have been love.’ He grinned again. ‘Anyway,’ he continued, getting in before she boiled over, ‘I won’t be doing that again. I don’t want to be giving witness statements and getting dragged up in front of those knobheads again – what d’you call ’em?’
‘The Professional Misconduct Committee.’ Kit cringed at the memory.
‘Yeah, them. I’m not saying anything is going on with her, it’s not. She’s not like that at all actually. I’m just saying I think she can help me, you know. I’ve told her some stuff and she seems to know what I’m on about.’
Tyler looked at Kit then, and she sensed that he wanted her to ask what he meant. That this was why he’d come, in fact. But she didn’t want to do it. She stood up and headed for the kitchen.
‘Well, all right, stay out of bother then. What about this takeaway?’ She felt a throb of regret as she saw on his face that he felt let down by her. But she couldn’t face it, and she saw him accepting that, too.
‘I’ll get the menu up then.’ He picked up his phone and started studying the Just Eat app.
After he’d ordered a Chinese for both of them, Tyler got up and began wandering around the room. He picked up a letter from the windowsill and studied the handwriting on it.
‘You’re still in touch with him then?’
‘Let’s not have a ruck about Jem.’
‘I don’t see why not. Jem’s never gonna sort himself out, you know he isn’t. He’s gone down for a long one this time, so forget about him. He was a good mate to Danny, but I’m sick of seeing you waste your time on him. I reckon you could do better.’
‘Christ. That told me.’
‘Yeah. You needed telling.’
‘As a matter of fact, I’ve ended it with Jem. Months ago.’
‘Really? Thanks for mentioning it. I’ve heard that story a few times before, though.’
‘Really, this time. He keeps writing, I haven’t written back. That’s that.’
Kit couldn’t blame Tyler for his cynicism. The pull to keep Jem in her life had been strong, going right back to when they’d met in Redbridge House. It was the only thing that she had ever lied to Menna and Huw about, hiding that she was still seeing him all the way through her years with them out at Cliffside. But Jem was in hospital now, being treated for a psychotic episode which had been triggered by the drugs he had promised her he wasn’t taking anymore. There was no knowing when he would be back in Sandbeach, if he ever made it at all. She had Tyler to look after and her job to do, and she couldn’t deal with Jem’s problems as well. She couldn’t hang on to him just because he was kind and warm, and understood what her past meant, what it felt like to not have the birth family that most people took for granted. Favourite holidays, Christmas traditions, family arguments that got resolved in a flurry of apologies and hugs, or even those that went on and on for years – chilly and bitter, maybe, but with no one actually getting charged with assault or carted off to a children’s home in the process. She had to get past feeling hurt about all that. She was an adult now, with a proper job and flat and a car and a life. It might not feel right yet, like wearing clothes that still smelt new, so you couldn’t forget that you had them on. She would grow into it eventually. But not with Jem around, to keep reminding her about how her own weird shape had been formed.
Eventually, desperate for a drink, Kit relented and volunteered the presence of a half-bottle of vodka in her kitchen cupboard. Tyler moaned about it being Aldi rather than Absolut, but he drank it. After their meal, they settled on the sofa with a glass and an ashtray each and put a movie on, a mindless comedy that Kit chose so as to deter Tyler from starting any serious conversations. It was easy and comfortable, and she realised that it was nice to have so
meone else in the flat for once.
When the movie ended, Kit made up a bed for Tyler on the sofa and left him to settle down. She went to sort out her clothes ready for work the next day and to put her pyjamas on. Coming back into the kitchen for a glass of water a while later, she glimpsed him through the open door, stretched out on the sofa, sleeping peacefully. It was unfamiliar, and she realised that she hadn’t seen him asleep for years. Kit and Tyler hadn’t stayed in the same place overnight since she’d left Redbridge House, and not all that often even before that – Tyler and Danny had been AWOL most of the time. She’d felt jealous of their closeness at times, she realised that now. It wasn’t that they were alike in personality. Tyler could blow up, but he cooled down more quickly than Danny did and always regretted it afterwards. He was kind underneath the swagger and didn’t want to hurt anyone, whereas Dan was tough and untrusting, with a very short fuse. But they’d been joined together, the two boys, bonded by their liking for trouble – the drinking and the girls and the petty crime. Danny had wanted Kit to be a good girl and he wouldn’t have accepted that sort of behaviour from her. She knew he’d loved her deeply, but it was Tyler he’d spent his time with, and they’d had their secrets, she’d sensed that. Things that Danny insisted she was too good for, things that he thought would soil her somehow. When he’d died, she’d known his death must be connected to all that, and she had a sense of what it was about, and her feeling of being excluded vied with her reluctance to find out the details.
In the morning, Kit woke Tyler early and got him breakfast, ignoring his complaints.
‘I’ll drop you home on my way to work,’ she told him.
‘Don’t trust me in your flat, eh?’ he said, shovelling Coco Pops into his mouth.
