by Holly Seddon
“No, never. She didn’t seem to like any of them.” Jacob swiveled to face her. “Jenny said Amy had been in some sort of competition to lose her virginity, and you knew about it.”
“Did she?” Alex kept her eyes on the road but could feel Jacob looking at her.
“Yes, she did.”
“Okay, Becky told me about it but I didn’t want to mention it unless I really had to. I knew how much it would upset you. And to be completely honest, I put even less stock in it while I thought there was any chance Paul could be the culprit.”
“I just can’t believe she’d be so flippant. I knew she was keen to, y’know, but not like that. I thought she wanted to take that step with me, not just with anyone that would have her. Do you think she did something stupid because of it?”
“Hand on heart, I don’t think this silly competition meant anything. I think most teenagers are in the same race, officially or not. I don’t think Amy would have done anything rash just to beat her friends at something they were all going to exaggerate anyway.”
“I hope not, but she did sleep with someone, that’s not pie in the sky, however much I hate to consider it. You told me that was a cold medical fact.”
“Yeah, it is. And we don’t have enough facts for my liking. I really think Jenny is the key to this, she’s the only one that we know Amy confided in. Do you think she might talk to me if you were there?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I can ask.”
“There’s one other thing that still confuses me. Do you have any idea why Tom might have gone to see Amy a few years ago?”
“No,” Jacob said wearily, “I still have no idea. I mean, he’s a caring guy and I can imagine him wanting to see if she was okay. Maybe. But even that’s a bit…” He trailed off. “Look, he really didn’t know her that well. It just happened around him.”
“But it must have affected him,” Alex said, gently. “Your parents would have been distracted, you were interviewed by police, he even had to change schools. All that stuff must have taken its toll.”
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t be the first kid to move to a new school or have disruptions in his life. I can’t see it bothering him after all this time.”
“Did he like his new school?”
“No, but anyone would have hated it. St. Cuthbert’s was a super-religious private school. Small and very strict. And it was all boys too, very different from the grammar.”
“So, basically, the only effect all this had on Tom was a bad one. He had to leave a school he liked to go to a gloomy boys’ school.”
“Alex…”
“But he didn’t complain? He didn’t rage at you about this? Your girlfriend gets attacked but he’s the one that has to move schools, and he didn’t moan?”
“He’s always been a good guy, Alex, he’s just not a complainer.”
“Or he felt responsible. He felt like he deserved to be punished.” She gripped the steering wheel and stared dead ahead, afraid to see the anger creeping up Jacob’s neck, afraid that she’d stop and apologize.
“You’re way off, Alex, you’re crossing a line.”
“And then, on top of all this easygoing, understanding acceptance of something shitty happening to him, he then—as an adult—goes to see Amy. The girl that caused all of this upheaval. You don’t see how that’s suspicious?” She could feel him staring at her, glowing hot and red in the passenger seat, but she stared resolutely at the black road.
“Hold it right there, Alex. I can see what you’re doing and I don’t like it. This is my family we’re talking about, not some dodgy bloke like Paul Wheeler.”
Alex had been chewing her lip, waiting for him to finish. “Jacob,” she said, tersely, “right now there are still some strange coincidences involving your brother. That doesn’t mean he did anything wrong…but you must be able to see why I have to ask.”
“You’re heading in the wrong direction.” Jacob paused and took a deep breath. “Come and speak to my mum. Come and ask her why she and Tom visited Amy, because I’m blown if I know.”
“Really?”
“Believe me, it’s the last thing I want to do but this needs to be nipped in the bud and I don’t have any answers. There’ll be a perfectly reasonable explanation, and once you’ve heard it, you can get on with working out what really happened.”
—
Sue apologized for the nonexistent mess, “If I’d known we’d have company…” and buzzed around the kitchen in a way that made Alex incredibly nervous.
“Mum, don’t worry, I’ll make the tea,” Jacob said to the back of her head.
“I’m sorry to come here unannounced,” Alex called after her, still blushing from the way Sue had eyed her up and down when they first walked in. Like she knew Alex from somewhere. And not in a warm way, more like she’d seen her throwing up in the river or rowing in the street. Both of which were possible once upon a time.
“It’s fine,” Sue said curtly. Perhaps thinking better of it, she turned around and smiled. “It’s kind of you to drop him home.”
“Mum, I know you’ve not met Alex before, but she’s a friend from Tunbridge Wells. You dropped me at her house recently.”
“I thought so.”
Jacob blushed.
“You do know, I hope, that Jacob is married?” Sue said to Alex as she poured thin amber tea into the teacups.
“It’s nothing like that,” Alex started to say, looking at Jacob.
“Alex is just a friend, Mum.” Jacob looked at his feet.
“Married men don’t spend this much time with women who aren’t their wives, Jacob. No wonder Fiona’s so cross.”
“I shouldn’t have come here,” Alex said, picking her car keys off the sideboard. “I’m sorry.”
“No, wait,” Jacob said, holding his palm up and then folding it back to his side. “Mum, there’s more I’ve not told you.”
Sue crossed her arms over her chest and stared hard at Alex.
“Alex is a journalist, Mum, and she’s writing about Amy.”
“Amy?”
“Amy Stevenson, my old girlfriend from school.”
“I know who Amy is,” Sue said.
“Mrs. Arlington, I’m writing an article for The Times about the work they do on Bramble Ward at the Tunbridge Wells Royal Infirmary.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been focusing on Amy’s story.”
“I see.”
“And I’ve been talking to people like Jacob who knew Amy before she was attacked and he thought you might be able to help.”
“Did he?”
Sue held Jacob’s eye until he looked back down at his feet.
“Well, that was all a very long time ago so I can’t imagine I’d have anything useful to tell you.”
“You’ll have a different perspective on it from her friends or from Jacob. You worked at Amy’s school, for example?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with the pupils. I really don’t like the idea of being interviewed.”
“Would you mind trying, Mum? Alex’s article might help me and her other friends come to terms with what happened.”
“Oh for goodness sake, I’m sure you all came to terms with it years ago.”
Jacob said nothing.
—
“Yes,” agreed Sue, “Amy was a lovely girl. I didn’t know her well but she certainly seemed to have a spark about her.”
Alex pushed the iPhone closer along the pine kitchen table. Sue fiddled with a coaster, and flicked her eyes at Jacob, scrunched next to her in a matching pine chair. Alex wondered if these were the chairs he’d grown taller in, in which he’d learned to use a knife and fork.
“All the school staff were affected, of course. People don’t realize it but teachers feel these things very keenly. They spend years with these youngsters, getting to know them.”
“And how about you, how did you feel?”
“Awful, of course. I felt dreadful for Jacob. I was powerless to help him, which is a horrible feeli
ng as a mother. And we were devastated for her family. Your child being hurt is every parent’s worst nightmare. You’ll do anything to prevent that.”
“So you and Amy got along?” asked Alex.
“Amy was a lovely girl,” Sue repeated, stirring another cup of tea.
“Did she spend much time at your house?”
“A little, she and Jacob were going steady for a while so she came round from time to time.”
“Did Amy get on with your son Tom as well?”
Sue frowned. “She wasn’t friends with Tom.”
“But she must have met him?”
“Yes, of course, once or twice. But they weren’t friends. Tom had plenty of his own friends.”
“Mrs. Arlington, when Amy went missing, the police interviewed Jacob.”
“Yes, they did. It was terrible.”
“Were you frightened?”
“I wasn’t frightened because I knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. But it was horrible to watch him go through that upset.”
“You weren’t worried the police might think Jacob was involved?”
“No, of course not.” Sue looked horrified. “Besides, he’d been with me when Amy went missing so I knew there was no reason for them to doubt him. I could see the police were just going through the motions.”
“How did Tom react when Amy was found?” Alex asked.
“Why do you keep asking about Tom?”
Alex looked at Jacob. How far could she push?
“Mum, why did you and Tom visit Amy after my wedding?”
Sue’s eyes widened and as she opened her mouth, the lock rattled and footsteps hit the hall. Sue closed her mouth and looked up at her husband in the doorway.
“Alex, this is my father, Graham,” Jacob said, warily.
Alex’s stomach lurched. Graham.
“Pleased to meet you,” Alex said, turning to offer her hand. As she looked up, she was surprised to see a tall, handsome man standing in front of her. He looked a good ten years younger than Sue, although that did not add up. His eyes sparkled but his lips barely smiled.
“Likewise,” Graham said, keeping his gaze on Alex until she had to look away. “I could have collected you, Jacob,” he said as he walked to the counter and splashed whiskey over a neat pile of ice. He wore tennis whites and his green eyes were framed by weather-tanned skin. The whole room seemed to hold its breath for him.
“Dad, Alex brought me home—” Jacob started, looking at his mother for reassurance.
“Alex is here to grill me, I’m afraid,” Sue interrupted. “She’s a journalist, Graham. She’s writing about Amy Stevenson and seems to think I can help.”
“A journalist?” Graham said, his voice measured and in control. “Well, that’s disappointing.” He took a long look at Alex and a deep sip of amber liquid. Alex felt her own thirst tighten in her throat.
She realized Jacob wasn’t going to say anything more and started to explain. “I’m not trying to make anyone uncomfortable but I’d like people to understand what happened to Amy and what she’s going through.”
“Well,” said Graham with the soft and steady patter of a diplomat, “she’s not going through anything now, mercifully.” He poured himself another drink, steadily and without comment from his family. Alex suspected this was how most afternoons unfolded in this kitchen.
“What happened was unfortunate,” Graham continued, his eyes briefly expressing compassion, “but that was many years ago and she’s been gone for a long time now.”
Jacob’s phone rang on the table, he picked it up quickly. “I’m sorry, it’s my boss. I have to take this.”
Alex watched him walk lopsidedly out of the kitchen.
Lowering her voice, Alex said: “Amy hasn’t gone anywhere, far from it. She’s communicating. I’ve seen it myself. She soon may be able to tell us what happened.”
“Okay,” soothed Graham, “Jacob has a call now and I think it’s time you left. My wife has helped you more than enough, I’m sure.”
“Why did you take Tom to visit Amy, Mrs. Arlington?”
“Okay, let’s go,” Graham interjected, placing a hand gently on the small of Alex’s back and applying just a little pressure.
“Fine,” Alex exhaled, tired from hitting a brick wall. “Could I please just use the bathroom before I go?”
“I really think you should just—” Graham started.
“Yes, if you must,” sighed Sue. “Last door down the hall.”
Sue watched in silence as Alex made her way out of the kitchen.
When Alex emerged from the little room a few minutes later, she could see Sue’s back to her in the kitchen and, through the window, Graham sitting rigid on a bench in the back garden, looking into the trees and sipping from his tumbler. Alex darted into the lounge, as quietly as she could.
She could hear Jacob upstairs and as she crept closer to the archway into the kitchen, she heard Sue speaking quickly and quietly into the phone.
Alex held her breath to listen.
“Tom, it’s Mum. There’s something I need to tell you and it’s not good. Call me back when you get this message. It’s urgent, darling.”
Alex’s heart jumped in her chest. Tom. It had to be Tom, using his father’s name as, what, an aide-mémoire? A hastily chosen cover name? Paul must have been bullshitting about the older guy. Alex kept her eyes trained on Sue. She could hear Jacob making his way slowly down the stairs. As quickly as possible, she used her phone’s camera to snap as many of the family photos on the mantelpiece as she could. School photos, holiday pictures, those awful posed studio snaps of reluctant children in ties and waistcoats. She snapped without looking, thumbing the camera button on her screen as many times as possible. She’d tidy them up later.
“What are you doing?”
Alex swung around to see Jacob in the kitchen doorway as she stuffed her phone back into her pocket.
“Just going back to get my bag,” she said, feeling the tips of her ears burning. Jacob went ahead and swooped her bag from under the kitchen table, thrusting it at her, his own cheeks and ears blushing.
“I’d better show you out,” he said, apologetically.
Jacob walked Alex to the front door and with a low voice said, “I’m sorry. I guess that was a bad idea after all.”
“I’m sorry too, I didn’t want to upset your mum,” Alex said, although her eyes were dancing with something. Maybe adrenaline.
Jacob stepped outside with her, leaving the door on the latch.
“I’ll try talking to her again when Dad’s not here.”
“Could you meet tomorrow? There are a few things I’d still really like to talk through.”
They arranged to meet the next morning at the hospital café. Alex left without turning back and Jacob’s shoulders sagged as he sloped into his parents’ hallway.
—
“We’re having casserole for supper, I hope that’s okay.” Sue clattered the oven door open with her lemon-colored oven mitts and bent down to extract the pot.
“Mum, I’m sorry.” Jacob hovered awkwardly in the doorway.
“Could you get the pickled red cabbage out, please? It’s in the narrow cupboard with the pull-out bit.”
“I know I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”
Sue closed the oven door gently with her slippered foot and placed the casserole on the hob.
“Oh, Jacob,” she exclaimed, putting her right hand on her forehead. “I didn’t put the broccoli on to boil.”
“It’s fine without, Mum, don’t worry.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sue snapped, reopening the oven door and pushing the pot back into its empty belly.
She filled an orange Le Creuset saucepan with water, which gushed a little too energetically from the tap and splashed her pale blue jumper.
“Oh for—!” she exclaimed, and stood for a moment as if she were surveying a scene of utter chaos.
Jacob stood back nervously as Sue took a deep
breath and closed her eyes for just a moment.
“Jacob, can you please put this broccoli on to boil and can you please get the pickled red cabbage out? I need to change my top.”
“Sure,” Jacob said, and watched his mother walk briskly from the room, stealing a glance at the teapot as she went.
—
Jacob excused himself after a silent dinner and went up to his small bedroom. There was nothing to do but he couldn’t stand to be around his mother, who seemed to be as hurt as she was anxious. His father, as ever, remained icily reserved.
The sounds of the kitchen bubbled up as they always had.
“I’m concerned about what happened today, Sue,” said his father’s low, steady voice.
“He shouldn’t have brought her here but you know he doesn’t mean any harm, Graham.”
“I just don’t really understand why you would take it upon yourself to go and visit that girl.”
Sue was either silent or speaking too quietly for the sound to rise.
“Why would you deliberately insert yourself and Tom into this situation? Years after everyone has moved on?”
“You know Tom, he worries about everyone.”
“And why are you indulging him?”
“Tom and I were just showing a little human kindness, that’s all. Is that a crime?”
Jacob could precisely picture the expression that would have spread across his father’s face. One of restrained contempt.
“That’s not a crime, no. But a crime was committed once and have you forgotten the police coming to call?”
“Oh now you’re being ridiculous, Graham,” sighed Sue. “You wouldn’t understand, you never have. You don’t know anything about those boys.”
“Oh that old chestnut. I’m not in the mood for this, I’m going to find something on the box.”
“Of course you are.”
Jacob heard his father flick on the TV in the other room, the flipping channels creating a montage of nonsense that seeped up through the floorboards.
He heard his mother’s phone ring and the telltale scrape of the patio door, his mum slipping out to smoke one of the Silk Cuts he had always known were in the teapot.
Alex came to see me yesterday and it was nice again this time. She brought music with her and I thought, God, I can’t believe no one’s done this before. It was like coming home. “Buddy Holly” by Weezer, tons of Pulp and Blur, Iggy Pop, the Stone Roses, Smashing Pumpkins, REM. All my favorites plus a couple of bands I’m not too keen on, like Soundgarden and Nine Inch Nails. Although I do like “Hurt,” ’cos who doesn’t?
