by Mark Tufo
Each of these knock-backs, although individually insignificant, were beginning to wear her down. She took her tea and George’s biscuit back over to where she’d been sitting. It’s only natural, she told herself, it’s not personal. I’ll take my time. We’re here in Thussock for the long-haul. There’s no rush...
George saw the biscuit before he saw his mother. He came running over, babbling excitedly in child’s half-speak about his game and his new friends. Michelle perfectly understood her son’s mix of full words, truncated words and nonsense, and the fact she was so tuned-in to his immature language was reassuring. She wasn’t alone.
Biscuit demolished, George didn’t have any reason to stay. He ran off again and Michelle was so focused on him that she didn’t notice someone sitting a few places to her left. ‘You’ve not been here before, have you?’ the woman asked. Michelle looked up fast. ‘Sorry, did I startle you?’
‘A little,’ Michelle said. ‘I’m sorry. I’m miles away this morning.’
‘Don’t worry about it. So are you new to the area?’
‘Just moved in. My husband’s been up here for a couple of weeks getting the house ready, but the rest of us came up this weekend just gone.’
‘And how are you finding it?’
‘Oh, fine...’ she said, deliberately evasive.
‘Really?’
‘Yes. Why? You sound surprised.’
‘I am. Thussock’s a bit of a dead end if you ask me.’
‘I was trying to be polite.’
‘I shouldn’t bother. You’re not from round here, are you?’
‘You can tell?’
‘The accent kind of gives it away.’
‘We’re from the Midlands. Redditch.’
‘That by Birmingham? I was gonna say you sound like you’re from those parts.’
‘Not a million miles away.’
‘No, a million miles away is what you are now.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘This place. It can feel like another planet.’
Michelle felt herself relax. ‘You don’t know how relieved I am to hear you say that. I thought it was just me. Just us.’
‘Ah, no. I was exactly the same when I first arrived. I moved here with my folks almost ten years back. Thussock definitely takes some getting used to.’
‘You can say that again.’
‘I remember thinking how everybody else seemed to know what was going on but me. It was like they were all in on some big secret.’
‘That’s exactly it.’
‘There’s no secret, though. Sorry to disappoint you.’
‘That’s a relief.’
‘And you will get used to it.’
‘I’m not so sure...’
‘No, you will. Once you get tuned in to this place you’ll be all right. It’ll all start making sense in no time.’
‘I hope so.’
‘It will. Trust me.’
Michelle thought she was probably just saying that to make her feel better. ‘I’m Michelle, by the way,’ she said. ‘Michelle Griffiths.’
‘I’m Jackie. Is that your boy?’ she asked, pointing at George.
‘That’s him. That’s George.’
‘Oh, but he’s adorable.’
‘When he wants to be. Where’s yours?’
‘I’ve two, right over there,’ Jackie said, nodding over towards the diagonally opposite corner of the room.
‘Are they twins?’
‘Yep. One of each. Sophia and Wes.’
‘Christ, you’ve got your hands full.’
‘Don’t even go there. They’re a bloody nightmare. I mean, I love them to bits, but they make my life hell.’
‘It doesn’t get any easier, believe me.’
‘Thanks for that,’ she laughed. ‘You’ve other kids then?’
‘Two girls from my previous marriage. Fourteen and sixteen.’
‘I remember being sixteen.’
‘Me too. I was an absolute bitch. I know where my Tammy gets it from.’
‘Boys and cider, that’s all I was interested in. Couldn’t be doing with lessons and rubbish like that.’
‘How old are you now, if you don’t mind me asking.’
‘Twenty-four.’
That made Michelle feel old. She was half as old again. ‘And when did you move to Thussock?’
‘When I was fifteen. I tell you, I made my parents’ lives hell when they dragged me here. I was a little shit before I came here, understand, but this place brought out the worst in me.’
‘You’re not making me feel any better...’
‘I’m sure your girls will be fine.’
Michelle laughed. ‘I’m sure you’re right.’
‘Ah, Thussock’s not so bad. Nothing ever happens here, sure, and there’s bugger all for the kids to do, but it’s okay.’
Michelle watched George. He was lying down now, colouring in, more crayon ending up on the floor than on his paper. She was enjoying this conversation. She didn’t want to put her foot in it or say the wrong thing, but she couldn’t help asking. ‘You say nothing much happens here, but what about that murder?’
‘Terrible thing, that,’ Jackie said, her voice as hushed as Michelle’s. ‘Between you and me, I always had my doubts about that Potter bloke.’
‘I wouldn’t know...’
‘Never did anything wrong that I know about, it’s just there was sumthin’ about him... bit creepy lookin’. Dez says he never trusted him.’
‘Dez?’
‘My other half. Potter taught him at school.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘I’d never have had him down for a serial killer, though.’
‘A serial killer?’
‘Have you not heard? Dez says there’re two more deaths they’re pinning on him. Some fella last week, and a woman in the woods over last weekend.’
‘I saw that on TV.’
‘She was all cut up like that girl in his garden, apparently. One of Dez’s mates found the body. He does security up by that fracking place near Falrigg. Dez was with him just before he found it.’
‘How d’you know about the body in the garden? I didn’t think the police had said anything about how she’d died.’
‘Dez was talking to Alan.’
‘Alan?’
‘He works for Barry Walpole.’
‘So does...’
‘Your other half?’ Jackie said, surprising Michelle.
‘Yes. How did you know that?’
‘I thought it might be, didn’t want to presume, though. He said there was some new bloke from Birmingham started there.’
‘Redditch.’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Same difference. Everything’s south from here.’
‘Suppose. Scott’s pretty shaken up by it all.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ Jackie said. She watched Michelle and noticed that her demeanour had changed. ‘Sumthin’ wrong?’
‘No, it’s nothing.’
‘Come on, spit it out.’
Michelle sighed. ‘It’s just the way you knew who I was by default. I’m not used to living somewhere where everybody knows your business like that.’
‘It’s not like that here, honest. Thing is, you’re always gonna get a few folks who like to stick their nose in, and you’ll get that wherever. The difference here is that Thussock’s so small, people can’t help noticing change. No one’s watching you or spying on you, nothin’ like that.’
‘I think that makes me feel better...’
‘Look at it from the other side. My Dez starts talking about this bloke with a Brummie accent who’s just started working at Walpoles, then I find myself talking to someone else with the same accent here. No spying, just common-sense.’
Michelle relaxed. Slightly. ‘You’re right. Sorry. It’s been a big thing moving here, that’s all. We’re all on edge.’
‘Nothin’ to be sorry about.’
At the far end of the room, a woman
wearing a shapeless smock-top and baggy jeans clapped her hands three times. The kids – all bar George – looked up, the oldest of them already starting to get up and put their toys away. ‘Is this us?’ Michelle asked.
‘Aye.’
Michelle pushed herself up from her seat and winced.
‘You hurting?’
‘Hurt my wrist last night. It’s nothing.’
She went to take her cup back to the kitchen. Jackie took it from her. ‘Here, let me take that.’
‘Thanks.’
By the time Jackie returned from the kitchen, having made a detour across the room to collect the twins, Michelle had George ready to leave. ‘Will I see you here again?’ Jackie asked.
‘I’m sure you will. George had a great time, didn’t you George?’ He tucked himself behind his mother’s leg, avoiding answering. ‘Thank you, Jackie.’
‘Thanks for what?’
‘For the chat. For not making me feel like a complete social leper.’
‘All I did was come across and start talking rubbish to you.’
‘That was more than anyone else has done. It was what I needed.’
‘I told you, I know what it’s like. And like I said, it will get easier.’
‘I’m sure you’re right.’
‘Listen, there’s another session here on Friday morning, maybe I’ll see you then?’
‘That’d be good.’
‘There’s a Thursday afternoon group too, but I don’t bother with that one.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Don’t like the folks there. Bit strange.’
‘Stranger than this lot?’ Michelle whispered.
‘Believe it or not, yes!’ Jackie replied, also whispering. Michelle’s laughter filled the hall, her noise loud enough to warrant a few sideways glances.
‘I might see you Friday, then.’
‘Sure.’
She went to walk away, then stopped. ‘Listen, d’you fancy meeting up for a coffee some time?’
‘Yeah, definitely.’
Michelle hesitated. ‘Where exactly do people go for coffee around here?’
‘Usually Mary’s.’
‘Mary’s?’
‘Aye, Mary’s café in town. If you want Starbucks or Costa, anything fancy like that, then you’re lookin’ at an hour’s round trip.’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘I wish.’
‘Right, a date with Mary it is then.’
‘Ah, bugger the expense. Just come around to mine. I’m only five minute’s walk from the café, so if you don’t like my coffee, we can still go to Mary’s. Here, let me give you my number.’ Jackie scribbled her phone number and address on the torn off corner of a red gas bill, then handed it over. ‘I’m stuck at home with the twins most of the time. Dez has the car, so you’ve a good chance of catchin’ me.’
‘Excellent. Look forward to it.’
‘Aye, me too.’ One of Jackie’s twins yelled out, fighting over a toy with the other. ‘Got to go,’ she said. Michelle just smiled, scooped up George, and headed for the door.
Chapter 58
Scott tried to keep on the road and away from the yard as much as possible, but it was a quiet day for deliveries. As well as himself, Barry Walpole and Warren, there were two other members of staff working today, far more than was necessary. A wiry-framed man in his fifties called Alan shifted slabs, and Chez, a streak of piss and wind who could only have been in his late teens or early twenties, helped. Alan, who Scott really wasn’t sure about, seemed to have an unhealthy preoccupation with the dead girl in Ken Potter’s garden. He kept pressing Scott to talk about her, and when he didn’t oblige, Alan just made stuff up instead. It wasn’t just him, they were all seriously pissing Scott off. He was glad when lunchtime arrived, though his relief was short-lived when Barry shut the yard and disappeared off with the truck. That move in itself took him by surprise. This is the twenty-first century, he’d protested, businesses don’t shut for lunch anymore. Then Warren made a point he found difficult to counter: they’d barely had any custom all morning, what were the chances of missing someone at lunch time? The others all went home to eat leaving Scott alone, stranded.
When they returned, just after half-one, Alan had news. There were still no customers and Barry hadn’t yet come back, so Scott, Chez and Warren were a captive audience.
‘Shona McIntyre,’ he announced excitedly.
‘Who?’ Warren asked.
‘Shona McIntyre,’ he said again. ‘That’s her name.’
‘Whose name?’
‘The girl Barry and him found in Potter’s garden yesterday.’ There was something about the way Alan dismissively avoided using Scott’s name which rankled him. It was almost as if he wasn’t there.
‘Never heard of her,’ Chez said. Scott said nothing. He knew no one.
‘And?’ Warren pressed.
‘And what?’
‘That all you got?’
Alan shook his head and continued. ‘The missus says she wasn’t local.’
‘So what was she doing at Potter’s?’ Chez asked.
‘Been out hiking, apparently. She was a student, Marj reckons. It was on the local news. Involved in geography or geology, she was, sumthin’ like that.’
‘But why was she at Potter’s house?’ Scott asked, repeating Chez’s question. ‘It doesn’t make sense. Took me long enough to find that bloody place yesterday.’
‘Maybe she was lost?’
‘So did she get lost and walk there, or did Potter pick her up and take her back to his?’
‘Not sure what you’re alludin’ to,’ Alan said, his tone a little aggressive. ‘You need to be careful what you’re sayin’. Ken Potter’s a good man. I’ve known him years. He taught me and both my kids, he did, and he never did nothin’ he shouldn’t. He didn’t do nothin’ to that girl.’
Scott couldn’t help himself. The words just came out. ‘So who did then?’
They turned on him as one. ‘I reckon you’d be the best person to answer that,’ Chez said. ‘You’re the one what found her.’
‘Piss off. It had nothing to do with me. Anyway, Barry was with me. You think Barry did it?’
Alan cleared his throat. ‘Barry was with you second time,’ he said, ‘but you was on your own when you first went there. An’ you had a run in with Ken.’
‘Fuck’s sake,’ Scott said, his temper rising. ‘Sure, I had an argument with him, but that doesn’t mean I cut up that girl and left her in his back garden, does it? What do you think I am, some kind of madman?’
‘I don’t know what you are,’ Alan said. ‘I don’t even know who you are. Now Ken Potter had his moments, but he weren’t no pervert and he weren’t no murderer. We’ve all known him for years. You ain’t even been here a week.’
‘I didn’t say he was a murderer or a pervert, I just said I don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense.’
Alan walked up to Scott, his body language suddenly hostile. ‘Fact is, mate, you need to be careful when you’re throwin’ accusations around in a small place like Thussock, ’specially if they’re as serious as the things you’re sayin’. I don’t know what happened at Ken’s house or why that girl was there. It’s my thinkin’ someone did her in and dumped her body, then Ken found her and panicked. Ken can be a bit of an arse at times, but he’s no killer.’
‘How do you know?’
‘What?’
‘I mean, how much do you really know about each other? You’re quick enough to say how little you know about me, but what about you lot? Chez, do you know what drives Alan wild in bed?’
‘Fuck off. What d’you think I am, a fucking perv?’
‘That’s my bloody point. You just don’t know. We all think we know other people, but you never do really, do you? For all you know, Ken Potter might really get off on slicing up young girl’s fannies. Whatever floats your boat, eh?’
Alan was about to say something, but he didn’t get a chance. Barry Walpole ca
me at Scott from out of nowhere, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and slamming him against the side of the caravan which rocked precariously on its piles of bricks. Scott tried to fight him off, but Barry had surprise and weight on his side. ‘Watch what you’re sayin’ you little bastard,’ he hissed.
‘I’m sorry, Barry. I didn’t mean—’
‘Watch what you’re sayin’, and watch who you’re sayin’ it to, right? This place isn’t like where you’re from. Folks here are less forgivin’, understand?’
‘I understand.’
Barry let him go and staggered back. Scott massaged his throat and chest.
‘To be fair,’ Chez said, doing what he could to calm the suddenly volatile atmosphere, ‘I don’t think he meant nothin’ by it. He just... Barry? Barry, mate, you all right?’
The men crowded around their boss at first, then they backed away. He wiped his eyes. He was crying.
‘S’matter, Barry?’ Alan asked cautiously.
‘Looks like you was right, anyway,’ Barry said, looking straight at Scott.
‘What do you mean?’
Barry composed himself. His anger faded slightly. He looked pained... devastated. ‘They found him.’
‘Found who?’ Warren asked, though he thought he already knew.
‘Ken.’
‘Where?’
Barry paused again. Took deep breaths. ‘He’s dead. Sam Adamson’s kids found him on the train track north of Thussock. Silly bastard killed himself.’
‘Can’t believe it...’ Alan mumbled.
‘Nor me, Al,’ Barry said, the emotion draining from his voice. ‘I don’t know what was goin’ through Ken’s head to make him do what he just did, but I’ll still stake everythin’ I have on the fact he did nothin’ to that girl.’
Scott kept his mouth shut and went back to work, knowing that whatever he said would be the wrong thing.
Chapter 59
Michelle was glad to get out of the house again. By Friday morning she’d had enough. She’d spent most of their first week in Thussock unpacking everybody’s stuff, trying to make it feel like home, but she was already climbing the walls. It had come to something when an appointment with the doctor was a highlight.
The receptionist was just as fearsome as last time but Dr Kerr, fortunately, was as friendly as she remembered, perhaps even more so. He seemed in no rush to deal with the rest of the patients in the waiting room and was content to sit and talk for a while. He seemed to be more interested in her house than her health.
