‘Well, Billy’s obviously got a different view because I think he does them most weekends.’
‘And finds bargains, if that ring is anything to go by.’
‘Not that it was such a bargain now it turns out it was nicked.’
‘Indeed.’
*
Friday afternoons in Little Woodford were always busy, thought Leanne as she wheeled her bike along the crowded pavements and then chained it to the bike rack behind the town hall. She wasn’t in her normal summer get-up of stab vest, white shirt, tie and black trousers but a bright floral skirt and a red T-shirt. With her hair down she looked like any other of the town’s citizens, most of whom seemed to be out and about on this pleasant June day. Leanne had popped into town to post a couple of letters, pick up a few things from the Co-op and, maybe, have a coffee. She also thought that she might take a stroll up to the skatepark and chat to some of the kids who would be bound to head there after school seeing as it was both sunny and a Friday. She liked chatting to the kids; it was, she knew, part of the job. If the kids liked and trusted her they would be more likely to see the police as people who could help them rather than a force to be wary of. Not that the public in a small place like Little Woodford saw the police as the enemy like they did in some inner-city areas in other parts of the country.
She’d almost finished everything she needed to do in town when she saw the Laithwaite boy and his dog walking towards her.
‘Hi, Zac,’ she said.
Zac looked at her, bemused. ‘Err, hello,’ he mumbled.
‘You don’t recognise me out of uniform, do you?’ She could see the penny drop as she fell into step beside him.
‘Oh, yeah, you spoke to me after that fight.’
‘And I hope you haven’t done any more of that,’ said Leanne.
Zac shook his head.
‘And I saw you in your house. I asked you about Dan or Billy, asked if you knew them.’
She saw colour flood into Zac’s face. ‘Did you? I don’t remember.’
‘Really? You told me you didn’t know them.’
Zac shrugged.
‘But you know Dan, don’t you?’
Zac stopped dead and tugged on the collie’s lead. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Oh, I think you do, Zac, because you and I both know you used to do business with him.’
He shook his head.
‘I’ve seen you with him, Zac.’ Leanne knew she was lying but Zac didn’t.
‘Can’t have done,’ he blustered, not looking at her.
‘Have it your way. Except your mum has also told me that you used to do drugs.’
‘She what?’
‘She also said she thought you were clean now. She said you knew you were in a mess and you’ve quit. Well done.’
‘She had no right to talk to you.’
‘She’s your mum and she was worried.’ Leanne changed the tone of her voice to a less brisk one. ‘I did drugs once,’ she said, cheerfully.
‘It’s a mug’s game.’
‘Yup – we both know that now. Have you ever nicked anything to pay for the gear?’
‘No!’
‘Just asking. People do.’
Zac growled.
‘I did,’ said Leanne. ‘Proper little toerag, I was. I even nicked off my mum. Nicked the housekeeping. Of course, she caught me at it one day. Blimey – the row.’
Zac stayed silent.
‘OK,’ said Leanne. ‘I believe you.’ She didn’t. ‘So, if it wasn’t you who nicked your mum’s ring that Amy got caught wearing, it must have been her. We just need to prove it now.’ She stared hard at Zac.
Zac stopped again. ‘You think Amy stole Mum’s ring?’ He looked startled and worried in equal measure.
‘It looks like it. She had the keys to get in the house and she’s been caught wearing it.’
Zac shook his head slowly. ‘You really think it’s Amy?’
‘I do,’ lied Leanne. She knew Amy and she knew Amy would never steal off anyone. ‘Right,’ she glanced at her watch. ‘I’ve got things to do, places to be. Bye, Zac.’
She was pretty sure now she knew exactly how Amy had got the ring. Zac had nicked it, sold it to Dan who’d sold it to Billy. She wondered what other business Billy and Dan did together. She’d heard a rumour that Billy was dealing in all manner of gear – she’d bet her bottom dollar that the pair had something to do with the robberies. Time for the real coppers to get involved.
48
Alfie was having a total meltdown and Megan had no idea why. She suspected he was overtired; he’d had a long week at school, the day had been warm and all the kids at the primary school were completely overhyped at the thought of the school fête the following day. Maybe, she thought, as she dragged a screaming, sobbing child along the street, taking him and Lewis to the park hadn’t been such a good idea after all. She passed Zac and his dog but didn’t have the energy to say more than a cursory ‘hi’. Besides, if he was still being a git about apologising to Ashley she didn’t want to talk to him.
She finally managed to haul her stepbrother as far as the gate and then hoisted him, kicking and struggling, onto her hip as she unbolted the catch and then thrust him inside. With a sigh of relief she leaned against it to recover while Alfie, still bawling, ran into the house, no doubt to tell Bex how horrible his sister was. Megan took a deep breath and followed on, Lewis walking beside her.
‘That was fun, wasn’t it?’ she said looking down at him.
‘Alfie was very naughty,’ said Lewis.
Megan nodded. ‘You can say that again.’ She let herself into the house and followed the sound of Alfie’s wails into the kitchen.
Bex was crouching beside him, pushing his fringe out of his eyes. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked.
‘I didn’t do anything,’ she said.
‘She didn’t,’ agreed Lewis.
‘It’s Alfie being Alfie,’ said Megan, having to raise her voice to be heard over Alfie’s tantrum.
It took the best part of thirty minutes for Alfie to calm down enough to be taken up for an early bath and then have his supper in his pyjamas. He was pale under the tan the recent good weather had given his skin, and he had rings under his eyes.
‘You need an early night,’ said Bex as she served up high tea of sausages, mash and beans.
‘I don’t have to go to bed too, do I?’ asked Lewis.
‘No, hon, you can stay up. Only if Alfie is going to enjoy the school fête I think he’s going to need his sleep.’
‘Don’t wanna go to—’ But the last bit of the sentence was lost as Alfie yawned prodigiously.
*
The next morning Alfie tumbled out of his bed at just after six o’clock. He trotted across the landing to Bex’s room and clambered onto her duvet.
‘When are we going to the fête?’ he said, shaking her shoulder to wake her up.
‘Later,’ mumbled Bex, rolling over and eyeing the clock radio. It was 6.05, the luminous green display told her. So early – what she’d give for a decent lie-in once in a while. Mind you, Megan had gone from being a lark to night-owl-teen in a heartbeat. Bex felt there must have been a weekend when she’d woken up at a normal time instead of at dawn or at mid-morning but maybe she’d blinked and missed it. She rolled back and smiled at Alfie. ‘Sleep well?’
Alfie bounced up and down on the bed, utterly rejuvenated. ‘I want to go now.’
‘It won’t be ready till this afternoon. After breakfast, if you and Lewis are very good, you can help me take all those cakes I baked up to the school. And then we’ll need to come home for lunch before we go back at two.’
‘But that’s ages and ages,’ said Alfie. ‘Can I go to the diggers till then?’
Bex pushed herself into a sitting position and arranged her pillows to support her. ‘We won’t have time this morning. We’ll be too busy.’
‘Megs’ll take me.’
‘She can’t take you all the
time. She might have plans.’
Alfie’s lip started to tremble.
‘You can ask her,’ said Bex. But given the way Alfie had behaved the previous afternoon, Bex didn’t hold out much hope that Megan would jump at the chance.
*
An hour later Zac was also awake and staring at the ceiling. He could hear someone moving around downstairs. On a weekend his mum always made a cup of tea for herself and his dad but maybe today it was his dad performing this ritual, given how badly cut his mum’s hand was. It was unusual for Zac to be awake at this hour on a Saturday and hear the sounds of the kettle being boiled, the tea being made, but he’d hardly slept as guilt and worry had refused to let him drift off.
He knew that sooner or later it would come out that he’d stolen his mother’s ring and he dreaded what his parents’ reaction would be. He thought he would be able to cope with the fury that his dad would no doubt unleash. But his mother... He’d been so vile to her all the time he’d been on drugs and she’d loved him unconditionally. He didn’t know why because he hadn’t deserved it. But he couldn’t imagine that would continue when she found out he’d thieved off her. It wasn’t just the ring, it was the money too, and he had no idea how much he’d taken over the last couple of years... hundreds, maybe much more because his allowance certainly hadn’t covered his habit. And when she found out she’d be devastated. Zac didn’t think he could bear the disappointment he’d inflict on her. Looking back, he couldn’t understand how he’d ever thought he’d get away with it. And when the full truth of how appalling his behaviour had been his siblings would probably never talk to him again either. He would be an outcast, a pariah.
And that was before his dad realised how much money had been wasted on his education, because he knew as soon as the results of the end of year exams came in that was going to be horribly obvious. His dad was going to go mental. Well, he’d deserve the bawling out but it didn’t make the prospect any less scary. Zac put his hands behind his head and breathed slowly as panic began to rise again.
Was this the result of coming down or was this fear of the future? Zac didn’t know but what he did know was he was scared – terrified. And how he felt was entirely his own fault; no one to blame but himself. He’d fucked up his life, his exams, his family, his friendships. As he lay on his back the feeling of desperation grew and grew, as did his feeling of self-loathing. He’d let himself down, his family down... he disgusted himself. He was scum.
There was only one solution, as far as he could see. Maybe it was the coward’s way out but he had to escape from facing the consequences of his actions and the only thing he could think of doing was to run away. He had a vague plan forming in his head; he’d get a train to London. He’d have to make sure he didn’t get caught travelling without a ticket because he didn’t have the fare but once he got to the big city he could disappear. He had no idea how he’d live but other people managed it. He’d have to hope something would turn up.
He’d wait till his parents had gone to bed then he’d load his rucksack up with some bits and pieces so he could survive for a few days and then he’d light out. He’d have to leave them a note telling them not to worry, owning up to everything, so they’d understand why he’d left and why they’d be better off without him.
He got out of bed and padded over to his dressing table, pulled a notepad towards him and began to make a list of things he’d need. And, on another page, he started to draft a note to his parents. He didn’t want them to worry.
*
Brian lowered the Guardian. ‘It’s the school fête this afternoon,’ he said, his voice muffled slightly by a biscuit he was eating with his mid-morning tea.
‘Yes, dear, I know.’
‘Are you coming with me?’
Brian, as a school governor, was expected to be there but Heather herself didn’t really have an association with the primary school, not now, not since her children had long since left it. On the other hand she knew that Bex had been baking a whole mountain of cakes and it would be nice to have a home-made sponge or fruit loaf for tea without the faff of having to make it herself. She glanced out of the window. And the weather was perfect. Besides, if Bex was there, Megan might be too and it would be nice to see her on neutral ground and see how things were after that assembly. What with half-term and one thing and another she hadn’t had a chance for a chat with the child since.
‘Yes, I think I will.’
‘Good. And what are your plans till then?’
Heather shrugged. ‘I thought I might go and see Amy.’
‘Do you think that’s wise?’
Heather put her toast back on her plate. ‘She can always tell me to go away.’
‘But I phoned her and told her we believe in her innocence.’
‘And I think that a visit – as a friend – is also in order. Goodness knows what people are saying about her.’ Although she could guess.
‘If you must, then,’ said Brian. He returned to his paper.
‘I’ll be back in time to make lunch.’
Half an hour later Heather walked through the town to see her cleaner. As she passed The Beeches she saw Bex’s car in the drive, boot open, with trays of cakes and buns already loaded into it. The sound of children playing wafted to her from somewhere in the garden. It seemed to Heather as though, despite their recent troubles, the family was settling in well.
The pavements were surprisingly busy as she walked along the high street. Maybe people wanted to get their chores out of the way before the fête or maybe they were out early because the weather promised to be hot later but whatever the reason, Heather loved the fact the town was bustling; all the locals enjoying themselves, shopping here rather than in Cattebury, with the lure of the big superstore. They went no further, though, because the centre was a dump – far too many tacky pound shops, bookies, payday loan offices and Big Issue sellers to tempt people to the few national chain stores scattered about.
Heather turned into Amy’s estate and walked past front gardens, many of which had children’s toys and bikes scattered on the lawns when they’d been dumped by kids out enjoying the glorious weather. On the road and pavement other kids were out in gaggles – girls walking about arm-in-arm, boys kicking footballs, a group of teens taking selfies as they perched on a wall. It was, thought Heather, lovely to see so many happy kids and a testament that, despite the best efforts of the Lilys of this world, the local schools did a good job.
Outside Amy’s house was parked a shiny red roadster. It looked like Amy had a visitor, thought Heather as she walked up the path to the front door. She rang the bell.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ said Amy. ‘Come in.’
‘Who’s this?’ said a man coming out of Amy’s little sitting room dressed in a vest and jeans and with slicked back hair. Heather disliked him on sight.
‘This is Billy,’ said Amy. ‘Billy, this is Mrs Simmonds. I do her cleaning once a week.’
Billy gazed at Heather. ‘Nice to meet you...?’
He left the sentence hanging with a rising inflection to prompt her into divulging her Christian name. Usually she wouldn’t hesitate but there was something about this guy... No way did she want to be on first-name terms with him.
‘And nice to meet you, too,’ she said, sidestepping the issue.
‘I hope this is quick,’ said Billy. ‘Ames and I are planning on going out.’
Heather gave him her coldest stare before she turned to Amy. ‘I came to see how you are. I heard what happened.’
‘I’m OK. Apart from the fact that ring was confiscated.’
‘Cost me a mint,’ added Billy. ‘The silly cow shouldn’t have worn it to work.’
‘But you gave it to me, Billy. I thought you wanted me to wear it, not stuff it in a drawer. You said you didn’t want other blokes—’
Billy glowered. ‘Never mind what I said.’
‘And they’re not pressing charges,’ said Heather.
Amy shook her head. ‘Bi
lly bought it at a car boot. As I said to Bex, it was all legit. How was he supposed to know it was nicked?’
‘Indeed.’ Yes, antique ruby rings were bound to be all totally above-board at a car boot sale. Heather changed the subject. ‘Are you going to the school fête?’
‘Thought I might.’
‘You’re joking me,’ said Billy. ‘Why d’you want to spent an afternoon doing that?’
‘It’s fun,’ said Amy. ‘I used to love them when Ash was a kid there. There’s loads of bargains and lots of my friends’ll be there.’
Billy sighed and shook his head. ‘Friends who’ll avoid you like the plague cos you’ve been nicked by the police.’
‘No they won’t, they’re proper friends who know I never did nothing.’ She turned to Heather. ‘Are you going, Mrs S?’ asked Amy.
Heather nodded. ‘I hear Bex has been baking.’
‘Regular production line she’s got going. I dunno how many she made but I reckon the cake stall will never have had as many as they’re going to get today.’
‘Excellent. That’s tea sorted then.’ Heather smiled at Amy. ‘And I’m glad all is well.’
Amy nodded. ‘And thanks for coming over to see me. I was afraid there’s them who’d have nothing to do with me now. You know... give a dog a bad name.’
‘Let’s hope not in this town.’
‘If that’s all?’ said Billy impatiently.
Heather raised her eyebrows at him and Billy dropped his eyes.
‘I’ll see you at the fête, maybe.’
‘Maybe,’ said Amy.
But not if Billy has a say, thought Heather. She disliked him even more.
*
‘OK, boys, you run off and play,’ said Bex as she parked the car up in staff car park.
The boys unclipped their seat belts and climbed out of their car seats as Megan and Bex opened the rear doors, releasing them like greyhounds out of traps. The boys sped off around the back of the school where the happy shrieks and yells of overexcited kids drowned out almost all other sounds, from the rumble of traffic going down the hill to the birds singing in the trees.
‘Right,’ said Bex, as she opened the boot. ‘Let’s start unloading this lot.’
Secrets and Scandals in Little Woodford Page 36
