Even more depressed now than when she had first arrived, Shirley finished her drink and put the glass down on the coffee table.
‘Thanks for letting me stay, but I think I need to be on my own for a bit,’ she said quietly as she pushed herself forward on her seat. ‘You don’t mind if I go to bed, do you?’
‘Course not,’ Mel assured her. Then, guessing that her cousin might have a problem getting to sleep with all this playing on her mind, she said, ‘There’s a pack of Nytol in the bathroom cabinet if you need it.’
Shirley nodded and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek before making her way up to bed.
In a holding cell at the police station just then, Jeff felt as if his head was about to explode as he struggled to come to terms with what the duty solicitor Malcolm Fitch had told him.
It seemed that the police were not only planning on charging him with murdering Skye and disposing of her remains, despite having no body to substantiate the claim; they were also looking into adding an extra charge of attempted murder, since Andrea had apparently decided to tell them that he had been trying to stab her that night, and that she’d been forced to wrestle the knife from him and stab him in self-defence.
‘Don’t worry too much about that one,’ Fitch had said. ‘Her statement is pretty damning on the face of it, but I’m planning to discredit it on the grounds of mental incapacity, and the fact that she has completely changed her version of events since making the initial statement.’
If that had been intended to give Jeff hope, the man had squashed it flat when he’d gone on to say: ‘If that was all they had on you, I’m confident we’d get an acquittal; but I’m afraid your wife’s testimony is only a small part of the main case. Now that they think you’ve been systematically abusing your daughter, they’re going to hammer you any which way they can. Which means dredging up not only your record of arrests for domestic violence, but also anything that has ever been logged regarding Skye’s well-being. Teachers who have expressed concerns about her; friends she confided in; hospital staff who have ever treated her; social workers; the foster-parents; the staff from the children’s home she was placed in – they’ll all be called to the stand.’
‘But I haven’t done anything,’ Jeff had insisted for what felt like the millionth time. ‘Andrea’s lying through her teeth; and they haven’t even got a body, so how can they charge me with Skye’s murder? It’s crazy.’
‘The CPS obviously believe that the circumstantial evidence is strong enough to secure a conviction,’ Fitch had told him, going on to warn: ‘And they’ll undoubtedly cite your affair with Shirley Dawson as a motive for you wanting Andrea dead, so you should prepare yourself for the probability that she’ll be called to appear as a witness for the prosecution.’
Jeff had tried to tell the man that he had not been having an affair with Shirley. But Fitch clearly hadn’t believed him – about that, or about Andrea’s outrageous claims that he’d been abusing Skye. And that was worrying, because if his own brief thought he was lying what chance did he stand with a judge and jury?
The guilt he’d already been feeling about having involved Shirley in this mess had intensified a thousandfold since that conversation, and he was cursing himself for ignoring his instincts and taking her up on her offer of a place to stay when he got evicted. If he’d only gone and found himself a bridge to sleep under none of this would be happening, because Andrea wouldn’t have jumped to the conclusion that he’d been seeing Shirley behind her back and started this malicious campaign.
It almost made him wish that he had gone for it with Shirley, because at least then he’d have had one good memory to hold onto as he rotted his life away in prison. She was the only one who believed in him, and he would never be able to thank her enough for being there in his darkest hour. But she had to start thinking about herself now, and if she was called as a witness he prayed that she would have the sense to distance herself from him and say whatever she had to say in order to deflect the fingers of suspicion that were already being pointed in her direction – even if she incriminated him further in the process.
Drawn from his thoughts by the sound of the grille in the door being scraped back, Jeff pushed Shirley out of his mind and glanced up at the eyes that were peering in at him. They had placed him on suicide watch and had been checking on him every fifteen minutes, so even if he had been able to sleep they would have made damn sure that he didn’t.
‘Don’t worry, I haven’t tried to top myself,’ he assured the officer quietly. Then, ‘Any chance of a drink yet?’
‘Does this look like a fucking cocktail bar?’ the man behind the eyes retorted sarcastically.
‘I only meant tea or water,’ Jeff said evenly, refusing to be drawn because he suspected that they were dying for him to kick off so they’d have an excuse to beat the shit out of him. ‘I haven’t had anything in hours, and my throat’s sore.’
‘That how your daughter felt before you did for her, was it?’ the copper hissed. ‘Make her suffer before you cut her up and scattered her all over the countryside, did you? And you’ve got a nerve to whinge about a sore throat? You wanna think yourself lucky there’s a fuckin’ camera in there, you lowlife piece of shit, or you’d find out how much of a fuck we give about your throat!’
Jeff didn’t bother replying to this. What was the point? So much for innocent until proved guilty: it was a done deal as far as this lot were concerned. But if the cops were being harsh, it was nothing compared with the treatment he could expect in prison. Classified as a nonce and a child-murderer, he’d be made to suffer in ways that he didn’t even want to think about. And not just by the screws but by his fellow cons, too.
He lowered his head and rested his forehead on his knees as the weight of the world threatened to crush his shoulders. The solicitor had told him not to give up hope, that there was still a possibility of Skye turning up in time to blow her mother’s claims to pieces. But it wasn’t going to happen. She’d been missing for too long and, even if she had been hiding out at a mate’s place the whole time, Jeff knew that she must have seen the news reports appealing for information and would have found a way to let him know that she was okay.
Already more or less resigned to the fact that he was never going to see Skye again, Jeff vowed that, even if a miracle occurred and he was found not guilty, this was the end of the line for him and Andrea. He would never forgive her for this. Never.
19
Skye crept down the stairs and tiptoed across the kitchen to retrieve the chicken pieces from last night’s dinner that she’d stashed beneath the rubbish in the bin.
It was a fortnight since Chloe had arrived and Bernie had been banished to live outside, and she had been sneaking out to see him whenever she got the chance. It was bad enough that the poor thing was chained to the concrete washing-line post in the middle of the scrapyard section of the garden, without him starving to death as well. But that was what would happen if Skye didn’t give him the scraps she saved, because Tom seemed to have forgotten about him now that he was no longer in the house, and often didn’t feed him.
She had just taken the key out of the back of the clock and was about to slide it into the lock when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Terrified that Tom had discovered her secret and had only pretended to leave for work this morning so that he could lie in wait and catch her red-handed, she turned around, her face scarlet with guilt.
‘You idiot!’ she gasped when she saw that it was Chloe and not Tom. ‘What are you sneaking up on me like that for? You nearly gave me a heart attack.’
‘All right, keep your hair on.’ Chloe chuckled. ‘I heard you creeping round and wanted to know what you were up to.’
‘Nothing,’ Skye lied, palming the key and sliding it up her sleeve. ‘Just making sure Tom locked the door properly.’
‘Yeah, right, like he’d go out without triple checking it,’ Chloe scoffed. ‘He’s so paranoid that someone’s gonna break in and take you away from hi
m, it’s like a prison in here.’
‘I know, but there’s no harm checking.’ Skye gave her a tight smile and walked over to the kettle. ‘I’m making a coffee. Do you want one?’
‘Mmmm,’ Chloe murmured, taking a seat at the table and watching her through narrowed eyes. ‘How come you’re so jumpy?’
‘I’ve got a headache,’ Skye told her. ‘It’s making me feel tense.’
‘You’ve always got a headache, you,’ Chloe mused. ‘You wanna watch that. My nan was always getting them and they said it was migraines, but it turned out to be a massive brain tumour.’
‘Don’t say that,’ Skye spluttered, taking a pack of paracetamol out of the drawer.
‘It’s true,’ Chloe insisted. ‘She lost three stone overnight when they told her; went from fat to thin, just like that.’
Skye jumped when the girl clicked her fingers loudly, and shuddered as she popped two tablets out of the strip. ‘No one loses weight that fast,’ she muttered, pouring herself a cup of water. ‘You’re making it up.’
‘Don’t call me a liar,’ Chloe said sharply. ‘I was there, I saw it.’
‘Okay, whatever.’ Back turned, Skye rolled her eyes and shoved the tablets into her mouth. ‘How come you’re up?’ she asked then. ‘You don’t usually come down so early.’
‘Couldn’t sleep,’ Chloe told her. ‘I had a bad dream and it woke me up.’
‘I used to have them all the time when I first moved in,’ Skye said sympathetically as she spooned coffee into two cups. ‘But they go away after a while. What was yours about?’
‘My dad,’ Chloe said quietly. ‘He found out I was here and came to get me, but I said I didn’t want to go with him so he started booting the door in. He was proper angry. I thought he was gonna kill me.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about it,’ Skye said reassuringly as she carried the coffees over to the table and sat down. ‘There’s no way he could find out you’re here – unless you told someone you were coming?’
‘How could I have done that when I didn’t even know till I got here?’ Chloe asked. She rested her elbows on the table now and cupped the hot mug between her hands. ‘What were you really doing at the door just now?’
‘I’ve already told you, I was checking it.’ Skye lowered her gaze and sipped her coffee.
‘What you lying for?’ Chloe asked. ‘And don’t say you’re not, ’cos I can tell. You’ve got one of them faces that can’t hide nothing.’
‘I’m not lying,’ Skye insisted, forcing herself to look the other girl in the eye.
Chloe gave a sly smile. ‘Bet you were trying to pick the lock, weren’t you? I wouldn’t blame you ’cos I was thinking about doing it myself, I’m that bored stuck in here all the time. Doesn’t it do your head in?’
‘Not really.’ Skye shrugged. ‘I keep myself busy.’
‘What, cleaning and cooking, and running round after Tom?’ Chloe said sarcastically.
‘It’s better than being in prison,’ Skye reminded her. ‘Anyway, that’s what wives are supposed to do,’ she added piously. ‘The man goes to work, and the woman looks after the house.’
‘Yeah, but for the rest of your life?’ Chloe placed heavy emphasis on these words, as if it was a death sentence – which, to her, was exactly how it seemed. ‘I think I’d rather go to prison. At least they let you out every day, and you get to watch telly.’
‘I used to feel like that,’ Skye told her. ‘But it’s not so bad once you get used to it, and I kind of like the quiet now.’
‘Well, I don’t,’ Chloe countered. ‘And Tom best hurry up and get me that telly he promised or I’m out of here.’
‘We can’t get a signal out here,’ said Skye, wondering why Tom would have promised to get a TV when he knew full well that it wouldn’t work.
‘That’s why I told him to get one with a built-in DVD player, so we can watch films,’ Chloe explained. ‘He keeps saying he’s looking, but if he doesn’t get one soon I’m going home. At least I can do what I want there.’
‘You can’t go back there,’ Skye blurted out, horrified that Chloe was even thinking about it. ‘Your dad rapes you,’ she added, as if she thought that the girl had forgotten. ‘At least you’re safe here.’
‘You reckon?’
Skye frowned when Chloe gave her a loaded look, and said, ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Nothing.’ Chloe shook her head and stared down into her cup. ‘It’s just that dream. It freaked me out, and I can’t help wondering what’d happen if my dad did find out I was here.’
‘He’s not going to, so stop worrying,’ Skye said reassuringly. ‘Me and Tom will look after you. Anyway, I’d miss you if you left. I don’t like it that you’re still doing drugs, and I wish you’d stop, but you’re like my little sister and I love looking after you.’
Chloe took another sip of coffee without answering. She had nothing against Skye, and actually thought she was quite nice now that she’d got to know her a bit better. But it did her head in that Skye acted like a big woman and treated her like a kid when, in truth, there were only a few months between them. And for someone who considered herself so mature, Skye was so naive where Tom was concerned that it was laughable. Chloe had only resisted telling her the truth about him because Tom had been keeping her sweet with smack and cigarettes. But this was the second time he’d gone to work without leaving any cigs for her, and she only had enough gear left for a couple of little hits. If he didn’t sort it out soon, he was going to be sorry.
Skye was peering at her thoughtfully across the table. ‘If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell Tom?’
‘Yeah, course.’
‘Would you feel better about staying here if you could go outside?’
‘Dunno.’ Chloe shrugged. ‘Maybe. Why?’
Skye bit her lip. The front door had already been barricaded when she first got here, but then Tom had nailed all of the windows shut as well, and it could be unbearable in here when it got really hot outside. She understood why Chloe was going stir-crazy because she probably would, too, if she weren’t able to go out for those few minutes each day. Tom would go ballistic if he found out about the key, but if it changed Chloe’s mind about leaving it was a risk that Skye was willing to take.
Making her mind up, she shook her sleeve to make the key drop into her hand and then placed it on the table between them.
Chloe gazed down at it for a second, and then back up at Skye. ‘What’s that?’
‘The back-door key. But you absolutely can’t tell Tom, ’cos he’ll go mad if he finds out.’
‘How long have you had it?’
‘Not long,’ Skye lied. ‘I found it in the drawer the other day. I was going to tell you, but I was scared you might tell Tom.’
‘We’re supposed to be best mates,’ Chloe reminded her. ‘You should know I’d never do that to you.’
‘I know,’ Skye murmured guiltily. ‘I just …’ She trailed off and shrugged, unable to come up with a reasonable excuse for not having told her.
Offended, Chloe crossed her arms. ‘I’ve told you everything, and I really thought I could trust you. But I should have known you were just like all them other bitches. You all say one thing to my face, then take the piss out of me behind my back.’
‘I’m not like that,’ Skye insisted. ‘And I was going to tell you.’
‘So you’ve been going out this whole time, while I’ve been locked in here, dying.’
‘Only a couple of times. But I promise I haven’t been having fun behind your back. All I do is feed Bernie, then come straight back in.’
‘I knew you cared more about a dog than you do about me,’ Chloe said petulantly.
‘Of course I don’t,’ Skye lied. ‘But you’ve got food and a bed, so you’re okay. He’d have nothing if I didn’t go out and see to him.’ She paused now, and sighed before asking, ‘Have you fallen out with me now?’
‘I’ll have to think about it,’ Chloe mu
ttered, snatching the key off the table and standing up.
‘You’re not going to tell Tom, are you?’ Skye asked worriedly, also rising.
‘I said I wouldn’t, so I won’t,’ Chloe told her as she slotted the key into the lock. ‘But I don’t see what the big deal is. He don’t own you, so he can’t stop you going out.’
‘You know why I can’t go out,’ Skye said lamely as she followed Chloe over the step. ‘And he wouldn’t stop me if it wasn’t so dangerous – he’s just protecting me.’
‘From what?’ Chloe spread her arms and turned in a circle. ‘I can’t see no one out here, can you?’
‘We can’t take any chances,’ Skye replied quietly. ‘And we can’t stay out too long,’ she added, glancing nervously around the corner. ‘If Tom comes home early we’ll be in trouble.’
‘You mean you will be,’ Chloe retorted unconcernedly. ‘He can’t say nothing to me ’cos I’ll just leave if he tries.’
‘Please don’t,’ Skye implored. ‘I only told you about the key so you’d stay.’
Chloe was no longer listening; she was too busy soaking up the rays of the sun on her face. ‘God, that’s ace,’ she murmured, as if it were the first time she had ever been outside – which was exactly how it felt after two weeks of being locked inside the stuffy house.
Bernie had sat up when he saw Skye come out of the house, and his tail was batting the soiled ground now as he waited for his treat. Leaving Chloe to luxuriate in the warmth, Skye took the scraps out of her pocket and tiptoed carefully around the mangled bikes and rusted washing machines.
‘Hey, don’t let it off the chain,’ Chloe called nervously when she saw where Skye was heading.
‘I couldn’t even if I wanted to,’ Skye called back. ‘But I wouldn’t come too close, if I was you,’ she added when Bernie gave a low growl at the sound of Chloe’s voice. ‘I don’t think he’s forgiven you yet.’
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