Finding Jennifer Jones

by Anne Cassidy

  “Except for the badge,” she said.

  The badge; since working at the tourist information centre she had had a couple of new badges every week. They were made of card but they weren’t robust. They creased and flopped and eventually looked grotty.

  “I am telling the truth.”

  “Of course you are, Kate. I never doubted it.”

  “Was it you who told the police about me?”

  “They have their own databases of known criminals,” Julia said, clearing her throat.

  Known criminal. That’s what Kate was.

  “They contacted me. I thought you might need a friendly face there, that’s why I went along.”

  Now she felt guilty for misjudging Julia.

  She’d been judged though. For something she hadn’t done. She’d been subjected to an interrogation. She felt a deep sense of injustice and yet she, Kate Rickman, had no right to remonstrate. She had a record involving violence against another child. She’d been in the area at the time Jodie Mills was killed. Something of hers was found on the child. The police would have been failing in their duty if they hadn’t picked her up.

  It didn’t make her feel any better.

  Julia dropped her off near the esplanade.

  “I can walk from here,” she said.

  “Call me if you hear from the police again. If I’m free I’ll come with you.”

  Kate nodded and watched the car drive off, Julia reaching across to turn on the radio as she went, clearly already forgetting about Kate and her troubles.

  She didn’t know what to do. If she went home, Ruth and Sally would be there, chatty and relaxed, and she couldn’t imagine herself sitting down to a meal, laughing about the uncooked bread, keeping the details of her afternoon to herself. Neither did she want to go up to her room and sit by herself. She needed to be out, in the air, near the sea, and yet she couldn’t face the beach.

  She walked off towards the docks. When she got there it was busy, the bars and restaurants packed with customers, most sitting at tables outside. Some people were lounging on decks of boats, some idling along the dock, looking at maps and talking to boat owners.

  The docks were not her favourite place. The seawater looked black and the boats seemed to crowd the marina, like a shopping centre car park. Everything was concrete and sharp edges and the people there were dressed up to the nines. They talked loudly and looked like they were shopping for things; drinks, partners, boats, status. The beach was such a contrast. People seemed relaxed there, watching the water edge up to the land and slip away again. Even adults played in the sea and the sand, regardless of how foolish they made themselves look. The beach was a soft place. She looked round at the crowds, faces caked with make-up and hard young men posing at the edges of the tables, and she was reminded of DI Simon Kelsey. She pictured him standing there, a bottle of beer in his hand, talking loudly to anyone who would listen. So this ex-con is taking her degree and ‘Putting her life back together’ and we’re paying for it!

  She decided to go home.

  “Hi, Kate!” a voice said.

  She turned round.

  It was the boy whose bed she’d slept in on Saturday, Jimmy Fuller. He was wearing jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt and carrying a bag over his shoulder.

  “What you doing here?” he said.

  “I was just… I was just walking. You?”

  “I was just passing through. I came off the ferry. I’ve got a mate who lives over there.”

  He hooked his thumb in the direction of the Starcross ferry terminal.

  “I’m glad I’ve seen you,” he went on. “I was going to give you a call later.”

  For a second he seemed to falter. Then he put his hand in his pocket and pulled something out. His held his palm out to her. In it was a gold chain with a flat heart pendant.

  “You left this behind. I found it in my bed.”

  He whispered the words in my bed.

  She took it from him. It had been given to her in a previous life by Frankie. She’d recently started to wear it again. She hadn’t noticed that it was gone.

  “The chain is broken. You can have it fixed though. The odd thing is that it’s got a name engraved on it, Alice. I wasn’t sure if it was yours.”

  Kate looked at the letters. They were in italics, soft on the eye.

  “So, is it yours?” Jimmy said.

  “Why?” she said, smiling. “Might you have had a girl called Alice sleeping in your bed during the last week?”

  She took the chain and tucked it into her jeans pocket.

  “I only allow one strange girl a week in my bed.”

  “Good rule of thumb that. Thanks for the pendant. I must go though. I’ve got some bread proving at home.”

  “You make bread?” he said, looking at her with surprise.

  “I do. I’m a good cook.”

  “So am I!” he said. “Why don’t you come back to mine. I was planning to make some food.”

  “Any homemade bread?”

  “No, but I’ve got other things that will make up for that.”

  “Well, in that case,” she said.

  “So what do I call you?” Jimmy said, as they walked away from the docks. “Kate or Alice?”

  “Kate. Definitely.”

  Nine

  The kitchen had improved. There were no dirty dishes anywhere and most of the work surface had been tidied. Jimmy gave her a cold beer from the fridge and unpacked the bag he’d had with him. He placed a pile of DVD box sets on the kitchen table.

  “This guy I know in Starcross? He’s a big crime fan as well and we swap.”

  Kate let her eye run over the box sets. One crime series after another. A couple she recognised from television but most she’d never heard of.

  “Classic US crime drama. Some of these are hard to get hold of,” he said.

  “Is this what you’re doing your MA in?”

  “No! Early twentieth-century literature.”

  “Oh. Sounds heavy.” It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say.

  “Not really. It’s all about shaking off the shackles of the Victorians and coping with the new century. Social and cultural changes. And then there’s the coming war.”

  Kate felt a moment’s envy. During her first year at university she’d become immersed in early twentieth-century history and had decided that she would do an MA on The Growth of Feminism in the Pre-War Years. She’d thought about it for months and even spoke to her tutor about it but somewhere, during the last year, the interest seemed to slip away.

  A half-dressed young man suddenly appeared. He mumbled something and walked through heading for the bathroom, a giant towel over his shoulder. Just then loud music came from above as well as the sound of doors banging.

  “That’s Tony,” Jimmy said, pointing up to the ceiling. “And that was Col going into the bathroom.”

  “Just three of you live here?”

  “There was a fourth. Becky, my ex-girlfriend. She moved out a couple of months ago. It’s OK. I was upset at the time but I’m fine now.”

  “Right.”

  “She’s involved in a six-month archaeology project on some island north of Scotland. We’ve sublet her room to Karen, a girl who’s down here for the summer. She has a job in one of the gift shops. But Becky will be coming back at Christmas. I’m looking after some of her stuff.”

  “But it’s over between you.”

  “Definitely. Over. Just good friends. Now I’m going to make stir fry,” he said. “This is a five-star recipe.”

  “Really?”

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Jimmy said. “Because I’m male I can’t cook.”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Cooking is important to me. I never buy ready meals. I make everything from scratch. No additives but proper ingredients.”

  Kate smiled at him. He was so earnest. He looked as though he was waiting for her approval.

  “Is something wrong? Are you laughing at me?”


  “No.”

  “I’m not that good with girls. I haven’t had much experience.”

  “You seemed pretty determined on Saturday night.”

  “But we didn’t do anything. I told you…”

  “I know. I didn’t mean that. I meant in the pub. You stuck with me for a long time.”

  “Well… I…. I liked you… Actually, you don’t remember but we did meet before. At a party in Exeter. I chatted to you for a while but you were a little drunk. Then you disappeared so…”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t remember … ”

  “But you know me now!”

  He busied himself cleaning the inside of the wok with paper towel and then started to chop vegetables. She thought about what he’d said about his ex-girlfriend. She’d gone to some island north of Scotland. Kate was certain that he knew the name of the island and maybe even her address off by heart. He was still hurting, she was sure. She felt a surge of sympathy for him.

  “What about you? Where do you come from? Not round here, I can tell by your accent,” he said.

  “I’m from Norwich. My parents split and my mum remarried. I don’t get on with my stepdad so I tend to stay round here in the holidays.”

  Kate said it off pat. She’d told many people versions of this history over the last two years.

  “Do you still see your dad?”

  Kate shook her head. It was the truth. She had never seen her biological father.

  “So you’re on your own. Brothers? Sisters?”

  “Just me. I’m happy that way. I have friends here. I’ll probably stay here after I finish my degree.”

  He nodded and threw two handfuls of vegetables into the wok. It made a loud sizzling sound. It smelled good. She realised she was very hungry. She ran her fingers through her hair and felt the knots in it.

  “I just need to brush my hair,” she said, grabbing her bag, standing up.

  “Col’s in the bathroom. Use my room. It’s pretty tidy.”

  She walked into Jimmy’s bedroom. The blinds were up and the room was full of light. It looked much bigger than it had on Sunday morning. It was tidier but not tidy. The duvet had been straightened but there were still bumps in it, probably covering T-shirts or underwear that had been discarded. Boys never made their beds neatly. She sat down on the corner of the bed and angled her face so that she could see into a mirror that was on the wall. She pulled the brush through her hair, pausing when she got to the knots, teasing them out.

  She realised she hadn’t thought about the police for a while. It was all there in her head, the interrogation, the teddy bear badge, but it wasn’t at the front of her mind. She felt relaxed and remembered Julia’s words, There’ll be some explanation for the badge. Maybe she was right.

  Was she actually enjoying herself?

  She shouldn’t be feeling like this. At the very least this house should have depressed her. She’d had her fill of student houses and their chaos. The communal areas were the worst; the grubby kitchens with their sticky floors, the hallways that got filled up with people’s coats and bikes and shopping bags. That’s why she loved it with Sally and Ruth. Theirs was a sane existence. Everything had a place and if there were coats over the newel post they would disappear in a few hours.

  Jimmy Fuller’s keenness should have worried her. He’d met her before and clearly remembered it. Perhaps that’s why he had stuck with her on the previous Saturday night. And he had an ex-girlfriend whom he clearly still had feelings for.

  He was someone who had big emotions. The sort of person she usually steered clear of. The odd thing was she liked him. He was good company and she felt easy with him.

  And she was attracted to him. Why not? After the way she’d been treated. Why shouldn’t she have a good time?

  She looked around his room. The piles of DVDs seemed at a precarious angle; one knock and they would all come toppling down. Her eye settled on some plastic boxes in an alcove. Each had a label on the side with the word Becky written on it in felt tip pen. She went over to them and picked the lid off the top one, curious about this girl who had been close to Jimmy. The box was full of books but on the top there was a battered envelope folder which had the words Rebecca Andrews Papers. Kate took it out and lifted back the flap. It had a passport and a degree certificate. There were also some birthday cards.

  Kate looked round at the door, keenly aware that she was prying. She could hear Jimmy’s voice from the kitchen, probably talking to Col who had finished his shower. She opened the birthday cards. To Becky, all my love, Jimmy. To Becky, I love you, Jimmy. To Becks, best friends always, Jimmy. Three birthdays. Jimmy and his girlfriend had been together for a long time. Kate put them back. She wondered what Becky was like. She lifted out the passport and opened it at the back. Rebecca Andrews stared back at her. Kate was surprised to see that Becky looked a little like her (or perhaps it was that she looked a little like Becky). She had jaw-length dark hair and pale skin. The photo was tiny but there was something alike about her and Becky. Becky had a serious look on her face. Becky had a fringe and Kate didn’t but apart from that they were similar.

  “Kate, food’s ready,” Jimmy called.

  She put the passport and the cards back into the folder and closed the box. Did she mind looking like Becky? Did it matter that Jimmy might have been attracted to her because he was pining for his ex-girlfriend?

  Kate went back into the kitchen.

  “Five-star noodles,” he said, holding his hand out with a flourish.

  Col was standing with a towel around his waist. His hair was wet and he was carrying the clothes he’d been wearing over his arm.

  “See you guys,” he said.

  He shuffled away and Kate saw an opened bottle of wine on the table and, in the middle, a single candle that Jimmy had lit.

  “I’m hungry,” she said and picked up a fork and started eating.

  Later, after they finished the wine, he walked her back to her house. It was noticeably chillier than earlier and she hugged herself as she walked along. He talked about his course and his plans to become a college lecturer. His words were mildly slurred and she was feeling a little drunk herself.

  At her front door he seemed embarrassed. She wondered if he was going to kiss her. Hadn’t they slept together acouple of nights before? Hadn’t he undressed her?

  “Anyway, I’ll give you a call,” he said and turned to go.

  “Wait,” she said.

  She grabbed his bare arm, a little colder now, and pulled him towards her.

  “You could stay tonight,” she said.

  “Only if … If that’s OK. I don’t want to seem pushy…”

  She stared at him in the dark of the porch. He’d had the same girlfriend for three years and he didn’t know how to be with a new girl. She went on tiptoes and angled her face up to his and kissed him on the mouth. She slipped her hands under his arms and round his back. His muscles were tense and hard. She touched his lips with her tongue and felt his shoulders soften as he leaned into her.

  “Let’s go up to my room,” she whispered, taking his hand.

  He followed her into the house.

  Ten

  Kate woke early. When she opened her eyes she could see the light poking in around the edge of her blind. Beside her, sleeping soundly, was Jimmy. He had his back to her and the sheet was pulled up to his chin. The clock showed 05:58. She sat up, carefully, trying not to wake him. It was cold. She edged the blind back and saw the grey morning outside. There were spits of rain on her window.

  The weather had broken. It didn’t surprise her.

  She got dressed, pulling on socks and trainers for the first time in weeks. She put on a T-shirt and grabbed her hooded top. She picked her phone up off the bedside table and noticed the condom packet. The cellophane had been pulled off, the packet open, the remaining condoms spilling out. She looked at the sleeping figure and wondered whether she had made a good choice. She thought about waking him up but decided not to.
She picked up a piece of paper and scribbled a note.

  Had to go out. Help yourself to breakfast (my cupboard). I’ll ring you. Kate.

  Downstairs she went to the fridge and got out a bottle of water and drank half of it down. Would she ring him? Or just wait until she bumped into him again.

  She picked up her keys and left.

  The streets were empty and she headed for the esplanade. She zipped up her top and put the hood up. Pushing her hands into her pockets, she walked down onto the empty beach. The tide was partly out and in front of her was an expanse of flat packed sand, like wet cement.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d gone for an early morning walk along the seafront. Usually it exhilarated her. The grey sky and the sea breeze and even the rain didn’t bother her. Just being there was enough to energise her, make her feel alive. Today though, the further she walked, the more disturbed she felt. She realised that the previous evening with Jimmy had indeed only been a distraction. The events of the previous afternoon crowded in again and hung heavily over her.

  She thought about the Mills family who had been staying in one of the holiday centres in Sandy Bay. The older brother had gone partying on the beach with other teenagers and somehow his nine-year-old sister had gone along. That was why people thought she had drowned. It made sense. A party on the beach; what young girl could have resisted a paddle in the sea at night?

  But none of this had anything to do with her, she thought, a feeling of frustration building up inside her chest. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, like dozens of other people. But none of those people had her background, her history.

  After a while she reached the area of the beach where the cliff jutted out and the coastal path went inland. She stood for a minute feeling quite puffed. She looked up at the promontory where she’d sat on Friday evening, drinking red wine from a plastic beaker and thinking about her life. She’d thought about the letter she had written. She’d weighed up her decision to break the rules and contact Lucy Bussell. She’d even thought, for a few fearful moments, about whether it was possible that she might be sent back to prison. A women’s prison.

  Now that fear seemed like a joke. Now she appeared to be in real trouble. Not because she was guilty of anything but because of who she was and what she’d done eight years before.