by K. L. Slater
I know just how quickly things can escalate when my family want to point the finger of blame. It sounds as if Mum and Chloe have been discussing which of the girls might be responsible for the attack and Maddy has come off worse.
Time in this place drags while we wait continually for the next step, the next scrap of news. But then, in a matter of seconds, it flashes forward so terrifyingly quickly that I feel breathless with the dreadful possibilities of what could happen to Maddy if this ghastly mess isn’t sorted out soon.
The corridor is quiet and cool and I feel my breathing begin to return to normal.
I’ve been a fixer for as long as I can remember. As a child, if anyone in the family had a problem – Mum, Chloe, even Dad – I’d get this clenching ache in my stomach that meant I couldn’t rest until I’d figured out how to make it all right again.
Even if it meant taking the blame myself.
Of course, most of the time I just got in the way. I suppose I must have seemed quite the little busybody. But it came from a good place, whatever people might have thought of me.
I find parenting Maddy easy. Most of the time she accepts my guidance, although there have been a few incidents at home in recent months that show she’s definitely forming her own opinions.
Tom finds my willingness to advise more irritating. I struggle to find a balance between helpful suggestion and interference, like the day before his interview, when he was deciding what to wear.
‘You’ve got to strike the right balance, Tom.’ I eyed the mid-blue Ted Baker suit he’d selected from his wardrobe. ‘I think the navy one would be better.’
‘But they’ve got a young leadership team there.’ He hesitated, held the suit away from him to study it and then tucked it back into the wardrobe.
I watched as he deflated in front of me, his enthusiasm dissipated by my apparent criticism, which was really only a keenness to help. There was little I could do to stop myself.
Right now, I feel the need to fix things. It’s building inside me like a furnace, and there’s nowhere for it to go. A door opens further down the corridor and Carol steps out. She looks at me quizzically but I don’t explain why I’m standing out here on my own.
‘I was just about to come up to see you both,’ she says. ‘The girls will be interviewed again at five o’clock.
That’s in one hour’s time. I hope Tom gets back with Josh for then.
Twenty
2003
‘For goodness’ sake, I can’t hear myself think. Get that noisy little sod out from under my feet,’ Joan Voce snapped, pinching the top of her nose. ‘This headache is never going to go away in this heat if I don’t get some peace and quiet.’
‘You go and have a lie-down, love,’ Ray soothed, steering her to the bottom of the stairs. ‘I’ll bring you up a cuppa.’
He watched his wife’s slim figure as she climbed slowly upstairs. She was a striking woman even when she felt unwell, like today. Raven-black hair and creamy skin, with piercing green eyes.
Ray was under no illusion he was very lucky to have her. He knew he was the envy of all the men he worked with at the factory.
Joan was very nearly perfect, if she could only curb that temper of hers. That would just be the icing on the cake. Still, you couldn’t have everything, he supposed.
He walked into the kitchen and across to the sink to fill the kettle. The two girls were sitting quietly at the table. Juliet always had her nose in a book, and if keen gymnast Chloe wasn’t bending her body in all manner of strange shapes out in the back garden, she was sketching like she was doing today.
Sometimes Ray privately thought they’d have been better not having children at all. Joan hadn’t seemed that fussed after they got married, and Ray admitted it was he who had pushed for them. But he hadn’t realised just how much attention his wife needed. How she quickly wilted under pressure and couldn’t bear too much noise.
Of course, he’d never said as much to her.
Their two girls were now thirteen and fifteen and were quite grown up. Chloe had been the first, and Ray remembered how happy he’d felt that Joan adored her and bonded immediately.
She had wanted to stick with just the one child but eventually agreed it would be nice for Chloe to have a brother or sister. Ray had been so happy, he’d barely registered that Joan was noticeably less affectionate and maternal towards Juliet. Later, he wondered if it was because she had somehow felt steamrollered into the decision.
And then, out of the blue eight years later, baby Corey had come along. He’d just turned five now and was a little live wire who barely slept a wink. He lived his life in an almost constant state of activity, always doing, never resting… and you could never feed the lad enough, yet he was skinny as a rake.
It was too much for Joan, and she’d all but downed tools when it came to caring for the boy, so Ray and the girls had learned to pick up most of the slack, keeping Corey entertained and out of Joan’s hair.
Ray had lost many hours of sleep himself, trying to work out why it had never been like this with either of the girls when they were tiny. Could it be that he and Joan were just so much older and less able to cope now?
Then last year, Dr Rahman had finally diagnosed Corey with ADHD. Ray had felt a tremendous weight lift from his shoulders. At last they were able to explain why nothing seemed to work when it came to calming Corey down.
It wasn’t that they were bad parents or incompetent after all.
He and Joan had attended a course for parents of children with ADHD. It had covered the implications and how families might best support their child.
‘How long will he be like this?’ Joan had asked the nurse who ran the session.
‘Probably for the rest of his life,’ she had answered.
Ray would never forget the look on Joan’s face in that moment. Something had dimmed in her eyes, as if a spark of light had just been extinguished.
But things got better. Corey was prescribed Ritalin, which helped to quieten him down, enabled him to focus more effectively and even to sleep better some nights.
Ray also spoke to the girls, explained that they’d need to take on more responsibility in looking after their brother.
He flicked the kettle on now and frowned as Corey burst into the kitchen making aeroplane noises, with his arms stuck out at right angles.
‘I’m a jumbo jet,’ he screeched. ‘And you’re all in my flight path.’
Ray snagged one of his arms as he juddered by in an effort to stop him.
‘Hey, quieten down, lad. Mummy’s just gone upstairs for a nap.’
Corey shrugged him off and flew on into the living room, engine noise louder than ever.
‘Come on, girls,’ Ray sighed. ‘I need you to take your brother to the park for an hour until it’s time for his tea. If he can run off some of that energy, we might even get him to bed on time tonight.’
Everybody suffered when Corey wouldn’t give in to his tiredness. It was virtually impossible to watch anything on television with him dashing noisily around in his pyjamas. On those days, Ray usually took him into the kitchen so Joan could watch Coronation Street in peace.
Chloe ignored her father’s plea, but Juliet sighed and closed her book.
‘Get your shoes on, Corey,’ she called. ‘We’re going to the park.’ Although she felt exhausted from being awake half the night coughing from a persistent chest infection, the park was only just around the corner and a few breaths of fresh air might help to give her a better night’s rest.
Seconds later, her brother scooted back through, still in jumbo jet mode.
‘Don’t wanna go to the park. I want to make a den.’ He circled his father, forcing Ray to pause in pouring boiling water into Joan’s mug.
Juliet sighed. ‘Fine. We’ll go down the warren and make a den, then.’
The warren was a swathe of green-belt land about a twenty-minute walk away, opposite Mutton Hill. It was an oasis of bracken, trees and steep hills with pl
enty of places for kids to build concealed hideouts. Corey loved it there.
Ray glanced gratefully at Juliet. She’d been quite unwell herself and was still taking the strong cough medicine the doctor had prescribed for the bronchial infection she’d had for nearly two weeks now. She looked pale and tired, and Ray felt a spike of concern. She wasn’t one to complain and he made a mental note to keep a watchful eye on her.
‘I’ll get his shoes.’ Juliet left the room and Ray heard her open the under-stairs cupboard where they kept their coats and walking footwear.
He looked at Chloe, who continued sketching quietly as if she hoped nobody might notice she was still there.
‘Our Juliet’s still quite poorly, love. She shouldn’t really be going out on her own; it’s sweltering out there and it’s quite a walk to the warren and back.’
‘But it’s all right for me to bake to death in the tropical heat?’ Chloe said snarkily. ‘Nice.’
‘Hardly tropical,’ Ray scoffed. It was the beginning of August, and the country was in the iron grip of a heatwave that had broken nearly all records. A hosepipe ban had been imposed and the newspapers were full of advice about how to care for the elderly and pets. It amused Ray that the very same villagers who complained about the snow and freezing temperatures in winter were now moaning non-stop about the heat. ‘Take a drink and suncream. It’ll be a nice stroll out.’
‘He’s your son, why can’t you take him?’ Chloe retorted, carefully shading in the trunk of an oak tree she’d drawn on her pad.
‘I have to look after your mother,’ Ray said, finally pouring boiling water into Joan’s delicate china mug.
Chloe didn’t reply, but set her drawing pad and pencil aside. They all knew that there’d be hell to pay for days on end if Joan’s headache worsened and she was unable to shift it with painkillers and lots of quiet rest.
‘Dad says I’ve got to come with you to take the little monster out,’ Chloe grudgingly told Juliet when her sister came back into the kitchen. ‘I really wanted to finish my drawing, too. I can’t always get back in the creative zone if I’m interrupted.’
‘It’s OK, Chloe, you don’t have to come.’ Juliet slathered suncream on her pale arms. ‘I’m not going to stay out long anyway.’
‘Well, if you’re sure…’ Chloe relaxed back into her seat and picked up her pencil again.
Ray scowled at her, but she was already immersed in her artwork and didn’t even look at him.
‘Thanks, love.’ Ray smiled fondly at Juliet. ‘See you when you get back.’
He smiled to himself as he headed upstairs with Joan’s tea. He might have a lie-down himself for half an hour in the cooler back bedroom, enjoy the brief peace and quiet.
Little did he know that it was going to be a long, long night.
The worst night of his entire life, in fact.
Twenty-One
Juliet
Carol informs us that we’re moving to a purpose-built facility on the edge of Mansfield at about seven o’clock, which is in three hours’ time.
‘You’ll be more comfortable there, and although it’s a secure unit and the girls won’t be able to leave, there’s a more relaxed feel to the place. You’ll have your own rooms and a private bathroom, so I suggest you use the next couple of hours to get together anything you want to take there with you.’
I shiver and cross my hands in front of me, rubbing my goose-bump-covered upper arms. The harsh reality of our situation has cranked up a notch.
Up until now, I’ve just about managed to convince myself that the detectives will have some kind of breakthrough and we’ll be able to take Maddy home tonight after all.
When I was in the police car earlier, travelling to the station, I truly believed she’d be released within the hour. If someone accuses your child of something so awful and you’d wager your life they are innocent, then waiting for the realisation that the police are wrong doesn’t seem so silly.
But in telling us we’re moving so they can keep the girls overnight, Carol just shattered all my illusions. She doesn’t realise it, but she has broken my heart.
Tom texts me to ask me to meet him outside in the car park, and I go there right away without speaking to anyone else. I need a hug right now, and so will Tom when I tell him they’re keeping Maddy until tomorrow.
He’s parked over the far side, and as I approach, I spot Josh’s little face pressed up against the window. My heart leaps inside me, with joy for once instead of dread. I realise just how much I’ve wanted to see my son, hold him close, since this nightmare began.
I pull open the door and he almost tumbles out. He squirms a bit as I cuddle him too tightly, too hard. Still, he doesn’t complain.
‘I’ve missed you so much; let me take a look at that handsome face.’ I hold his shoulders and push him back slightly. The smile fades on my lips. ‘Josh… what’s wrong?’
His red-rimmed eyes and trembling mouth tell me all I need to know.
‘Tom?’ I duck down and look into the car. ‘I’ve been texting you, ringing you but your phone was off.’
‘Just get in for a few minutes, Jules, while I explain.’
I get in the back seat with Josh so I can continue to hold him close as Tom tells me that Josh already knew all about Maddy before he even returned to school.
‘How can that be?’ I say faintly.
‘A few people had brought their phones on the trip,’ Josh sniffs miserably. ‘They had to hand them in on the first day for safekeeping, but the teacher gave them back when we got on the bus to come home, and Bradley Macken’s mum had sent him a text to say Maddy had been arrested.’
‘She hasn’t been arrested yet.’ I roll my eyes in fury. Parents acting like juveniles, spreading gossip via their own kids! I’d like nothing more than to give Bradley bloody Macken’s mother a piece of my mind right now.
It unnerves me, hearing Maddy’s name and the word ‘arrest’ paired together so casually. Other people are peddling inaccuracies that mean nothing to them but have the power to wreck our lives.
I shiver, even though it’s stifling in the car.
Josh rests his damp cheek on my shoulder.
‘It was horrible, Mum.’ His voice is muffled as he speaks into my arm. ‘After Bradley got the text, the others who had phones started googling and reading out what had happened. Then someone started a chant about Maddy being sent to prison.’
I feel heat rising through my chest and neck.
‘And what the hell were the teachers doing while all this was happening?’ Tom fumes.
‘Mrs Carrington took their phones back until we got off the bus,’ Josh said. ‘But it was too late then because everyone knew about it. Leo moved seats.’
A lump rises in my throat and I battle not to throw up. I open my mouth to ask Josh more questions, but there’s a disconnect between my thoughts and my voice. Nothing comes out.
‘Shall I take him to your mum and dad’s?’ Tom watches me.
‘No!’ I snap.
Josh pulls away, a little startled. He looks at Tom and back at me.
‘Why? Why can’t I go to Gran and Grandad’s?’
‘Because… it’s not convenient right now. They’ve got a lot on their minds.’
‘It’s better than him staying at the station though, surely?’ Tom dips his chin and looks at me meaningfully.
I doubt there’ll be a bed for Josh at the new unit. We’ve got to try and protect him from all this, but both Tom and I need to be close to Maddy right now.
I’m aware that it’s totally unfair of me, but I silently curse Tom’s parents for taking their annual holiday at the worst possible time.
‘I want to see Maddy,’ Josh says quietly. ‘Is she in a cell?’
‘No, no. It’s not like that, Josh,’ I try and reassure him. ‘They’re just asking her and Brianna lots of questions so we can find out exactly what happened.’
‘Maddy wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t hurt Bessie.’
&nb
sp; I look at him. Something about the way he referred to Bessie nearly made my heart stop. I glance at Tom, but I can see it hasn’t registered with him.
‘Josh, did you know Bessie Wilford?’
His pale face flushes a little.
‘Not really,’ he says in a small voice. ‘I only went with them there once.’
My mouth drops open and Tom’s brow furrows. He turns more fully in his seat to face us in the back.
‘You’ve been to Bessie Wilford’s house with Maddy and Brianna?’ He is struggling to keep his voice level.
Josh swallows hard and his hand grips mine a little tighter.
‘You’re not in trouble, Josh. It’s just very important that your dad and I know every scrap of truth.’
‘You’re not in trouble at all, champ.’ Tom smiles, but it looks more like a grimace. ‘But we’re a team, you, me, Mum and Maddy, and teams have to work together, right?’
‘Right,’ Josh whispers.
‘So you just went to Bessie’s house once with Maddy?’
‘Yes, Dad.’
‘And Brianna was there too?’
Josh nods.
‘Now this next bit is really important,’ Tom says. ‘Can you remember exactly when it was you went there?’
Josh thinks. ‘It was our last school holiday. May half-term, I think, Dad. We were at Grandma and Grandad’s for a few days.’
‘That’s great, buddy. And can you remember why the girls went to see Bessie?’
Josh shrugs. ‘I think she asked them to.’
Tom and I look at each other.
‘She did?’ I say lightly. ‘How did she do that? She lives on the outskirts of the village.’
Josh opens his mouth to speak, and then hesitates.
‘It’s OK, Josh. You and Maddy won’t get into trouble for any of this. We just need to know all the facts so we can protect you both. Do you know how Bessie managed to ask the girls to visit her?’
He nods, and I feel his grip on my fingers loosen a little.
