by Sibel Hodge
We got dressed into our respective clothes, drinking more and laughing at each other to push away the terror that gripped our insides. Except the laughter wasn’t funny. It was nervous, with an underlying nausea. I looked down at the fairy costume I had on, embarrassed, desperately hoping that wearing a bunch of stupid clothes was the worst we’d have to endure that night and knowing at the same time that this was just the precursor for something much, much worse.
When the door unlocked, we were all pretty tipsy, but it didn’t stop my heart pounding and my mouth losing all moisture as we followed the Fat Man down the corridor. He was dressed up now, too, wearing a judge’s costume of long, flowing robes and a fancy grey wig.
‘Come along. We’re going to have some fun now.’ He grinned at each of us, but behind the grin was the hint of a hundred kinds of threats.
He led us to a very large room with wood-panelled walls and fancy high-backed furniture with plump cushions.
The other men who’d been to the Crossfield party were also there. The short man with glasses poured himself a large whisky from a fancy trolley of drinks in the corner. He was dressed in a pinstriped navy suit. The tall man with the gaunt face and side parting sat on an uncomfortable-looking sofa with a drink already in hand. He was dressed in a policeman’s uniform. The other man with the neatly trimmed beard and swept-back hair with a widow’s peak, also dressed in a posh suit, licked his lips as he rested one elbow on the ornately carved mantelpiece, studying us all carefully. And there was another man I hadn’t seen before. He was old, with thick grey-white hair and bushy eyebrows.
The old man poured us drinks as we stood nervously in the centre of the room, trying not to catch any of the men’s eyes. The room was already swaying around me as he pressed a large vodka and Coke into my hand. When everyone was served, he told us to line up in front of them, and he sat down in an armchair.
Our gazes darted into our drinks, at the floor, at each other. Wanting to look anywhere other than at those men.
The judge picked up a wooden gavel, banged it on a block of wood on the table next to him, and said, ‘The Friday Club is now in session,’ which made all the men chuckle. ‘I believe it’s my prerogative to pick first.’ He leant forward, looking down the row of seated men.
‘You always get to pick,’ the policeman said.
The judge licked his lips repulsively. ‘My house, my rules.’
‘Oh, go on, then, you old bugger!’ the man with the beard said, leering at me.
I tried to swallow more drink, but my throat had constricted.
They examined us with predatory, appraising eyes as they sipped their drinks slowly. We were nothing more than pieces of meat lined up for their entertainment.
The judge beckoned Billy towards him. Billy looked at us, the cold, hard fear evident in his eyes.
‘Come on! Come over here. I’ve got something for you.’ The judge picked up a bowl of sweets on the table next to his gavel and held them out. ‘I bet you like these, don’t you?’
Billy’s eyes lit up. He walked towards the outstretched bowl, but the judge whipped the bowl away before Billy could take any. Billy stared at the sweets with longing, unaware of the man’s gaze roaming Billy’s body with a different kind of hungry look.
‘Here, take them.’ The judge thrust the bowl at Billy, who shovelled them in his mouth so fast he didn’t notice anything else.
‘You,’ the policeman said to Dave. ‘Come and sit with me.’ He patted a seat next to him, and Dave walked towards him, his head bowed, his shoulders rigid.
The bearded man picked me. ‘I love fairies,’ he said, which made the other men cackle hilariously.
The old man picked Sean. And the man with glasses picked Trevor.
More drinks were pressed into our small hands, and we were passed funny-smelling cigarettes that we were told to inhale. I coughed and spluttered through the smoke, and the men laughed and joked with each other.
We were made to act according to the costumes we were dressed in. Sean pretended he was in the jungle, and the judge told him to holler like Tarzan, but we had no idea who Tarzan was, which started to seem funny to us, too. I was instructed to dance and prance around the room on my tiptoes.
When it came to Trevor’s time, he could hardly stand, he was so out of it with the drink and marijuana. He got up from the sofa and tumbled to the floor, lying there, his eyes closed. The man with the glasses said something to the other men that I could no longer understand. I was tired, and the room spun out of control, and nothing was funny anymore. Everything was hazy and tilting, and a blackness hovered on the edge of my vision. Then suddenly the room was empty apart from the bearded man, who took hold of my hand and led me into a large bedroom.
There were flashes of light and the click of a camera, and my eyelids were heavy. So heavy.
Then he stopped playing with the camera, and he started his new game.
MAYA
Chapter 15
‘Hiya, Maya.’ Ava gave me a half smile when she opened her door.
I attempted a smile, too, but my mouth wouldn’t cooperate.
She pulled me into an embrace. ‘How are you? Or is that another stupid question?’
I inhaled her familiar perfume. Hugged her tightly and didn’t let go.
‘Don’t be nice to me,’ I finally said. ‘If you’re nice, it’s going to set me off again.’
‘Okay, I’ll be a complete bitch.’ She drew back, her worried eyes examining my face closely. ‘Want a glass of wine?’
I nodded.
‘Get it yourself then.’ She gave me a fake glare.
Despite myself, it made me smile. ‘Have you put Jackson down?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can I go and see him?’
‘Of course. But don’t wake him up—he’s grouchy at the moment. It’s taken me ages to get him settled.’
I crept up the stairs to Jackson’s bedroom, painted in a delicate, warm yellow. He lay on his back, his chest gently rising and falling, his plump lips puffed out, his eyelashes fluttering against his smooth, creamy skin. I kissed his cheek, inhaling the intoxicating aroma of clean baby and talc, feeling an overwhelming rush of love for this beautiful little boy.
When I went downstairs into the lounge, Ava sat on the sofa with her legs curled up underneath her, sipping a glass of wine. An opened bottle of Chilean red was on the coffee table, and a spare glass.
‘I’m only having the one since I’m still breastfeeding, but you go ahead and drink the whole lot if you like. You could stay here tonight.’
‘Maybe.’ I still wanted to be at Jamie’s so I could feel his lingering presence close to me. Maybe it was stupid, but that was how I felt. I poured myself a glass and sank down next to her.
‘So.’ She adjusted in her seat to face me. ‘What did you have to do in London?’
I hesitated for a moment, rubbing a finger round the edge of the glass, wondering what to say. I didn’t even know myself what was going on. What had been going on. Would it sound crazy? Ridiculous?
‘What is it?’ She placed a hand on my arm.
I took a large gulp of wine. ‘I think there’s something weird about Jamie’s death.’
‘Weird, how?’
I told her about Jamie’s laptop having been wiped. The bizarre things moved around in the house. The smell of cigarettes that day and the same smell in Jamie’s car. How a few things were missing, like his last three months’ phone bills and his mobile phone and jacket. ‘And look.’ I held my hand out to her, showing her the ring. ‘He bought this for me. We were in town about six months ago, looking in a jeweller’s window. And he was asking me questions about what I liked. Then, when I was going through his things, I found it in his bedside drawer. There was a receipt for it in his wallet dated four months ago. I’m sure he was going to propose on our anniversary. He said he had something important to ask me. He told me before he left that morning that we’d have all the time in the world later on. So why would he
say that? Why would he be about to propose if he was going to kill himself? Why would he buy it?’ I glanced up and met her gaze. A gaze that softened and looked at me the same way Tony had. With sympathy and pity. I was getting sick of that look.
‘Oh, hon, there could be perfectly reasonable explanations for the laptop. It might’ve had a virus and Jamie wiped everything off himself to repair it. He was an IT expert, after all. And if Jamie wasn’t thinking straight before he went up to those woods, he could’ve gone back to the house and moved those things around himself.’ She frowned with concern. ‘And you don’t know it was an engagement ring. It could’ve been a birthday present for you. Your birthday’s in three months.’
I stared down at the ring. ‘No, I’m sure it was meant to be an engagement ring, so why, Ava? You don’t buy it and then kill yourself, do you?’
‘I’ve bought Jackson’s birthday presents already, and his birthday isn’t for months. Jamie was an organised kind of guy. When he bought it, whatever it was for, he probably wasn’t thinking about ending things.’
I spun the ring on my finger one way, then the other. ‘But why would he have seemed so happy that day? If he was going to do it, he would’ve been upset and depressed, wouldn’t he?’
She thought for a moment and then said softly, ‘It’s possible he was happy because he’d made his mind up and it was a relief. You told me yourself that Tony said Jamie had suffered from depression in the past.’
‘That was years ago!’
She took a sip of wine and looked at me with a frown of worry. ‘Do you remember when I was at uni and one of my friends there killed himself?’
‘Vaguely.’
‘You’d never have known it was going to happen. He was always the lively, funny, loud one. Always joking around. He was out with us in the pub the night before, too. I was having a really good laugh with him, just like usual, and the next day he was found after taking an overdose of tranquillisers.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘He would’ve been the last person I thought would ever do something like that. So, what I’m trying to say is that you don’t know what’s going on in someone else’s head. You can never know. Jamie was obviously good at hiding how he was feeling from you.’
I finished my glass of wine and poured another as her words hung in the air and permeated my head. Was I looking for things that weren’t there because I didn’t want it to be true? Didn’t want to think Jamie had done this intentionally? Had left me?
‘I found a list of names and addresses that Jamie hid. And Paul said Jamie had been off work, but Jamie was leaving the house every day just like normal. That’s why I was in London. I think he’d been going round to see the people on this list.’ I told her about Moses’s mum and about the squat and the house in Crompton Place.
‘He probably took time off work because he was trying to get things clear in his head. Maybe he needed time to think about things before he…’ She trailed off and bit her lip. ‘You don’t even know Jamie went to see Moses’s mum. And how do you know that girl at the squat was even telling the truth? She’d probably say anything for a few quid.’
I took another sip of wine and swirled it round in my mouth. ‘Maybe, but why would he have the name and address of someone who lived in a squat, anyway? Or the name of a boy who went missing thirty years ago? Why would the other names and addresses be on there? It means something important, I’m sure of it.’
‘That list could be really old. You don’t know when Jamie put it there. Maybe it was something to do with work. People who had bought software from his company, or maybe it was a list for his colleagues or something. Maybe they were old army mates.’
‘That girl at the squat said she didn’t think Billy had ever been in the army.’
She raised her eyebrows in an aren’t-you-listening-to-me kind of way. ‘Well, then, maybe Jamie knew them when they were kids, like you suggested. Maybe they did all go to school together.’
‘But why would he go looking for them now, after all this time, when Jamie’s never mentioned them before? And don’t you think it’s suspicious that if they did know each other all those years ago, that one disappeared and two committed suicide?’
‘I think it’s tragic, but Moses disappeared thirty years ago, and Billy committed suicide a year ago, if you can even believe anything that girl said, so I can’t see how it has anything to do with anything. And I also think you’re looking too deeply into things, looking for a reason to justify what Jamie did, which is normal when someone you love kills themself. But it’s not healthy. You’ll just go mad thinking about it because you’ll probably never find a reason to justify it to yourself. He was obviously depressed and not thinking straight. And you can’t second-guess his actions leading up to that point. You’re never going to know the exact reasons why he did what he did, and it’s just going to stress you out and upset you, even more than you already are. The most important thing you need to concentrate on is trying to cope with the grief so you can eventually move on.’ She reached out and stroked my hair. ‘I know it’s hard to admit to yourself that he did it, but denial is a perfectly normal stage of grief. Why don’t you speak to someone? Call one of those counsellors in the leaflets Tony gave you?’
‘I don’t want to talk to anyone,’ I muttered, downing some more wine. Talking wouldn’t bring him back. It wouldn’t change the fact there was a huge, gaping hole in my life. I’d been ripped inside out and scattered into a million pieces that I could never get back.
‘It might help.’
‘No!’
‘Okay, calm down, it’s okay.’
‘I am bloody calm!’ I said in a grating voice I didn’t recognise.
She smiled gently, unflapped by my angry bellow. ‘You can always do it later if you change your mind.’ She dropped her hand.
A tic fluttered at the corner of my right eye. I pressed my fingertip to it.
‘Everything is arranged for the funeral, so you don’t have to worry about anything.’
Don’t have to worry about anything? I almost wanted to burst out into bitter, hysterical laughter.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her watching me as I poured some more wine. Half the bottle had gone already, and I was going to drink the whole lot to try to stop thinking. ‘Thanks. I don’t think I could bring myself to do it all.’
‘You don’t have to thank me. What are sisters for?’
‘I don’t know how I’m going to get through it.’ Tears prickled in my eyes again. ‘I’m not ready to say goodbye to him yet. I don’t want to see his coffin being put into the ground.’
She put her wine on the table and shuffled closer, then rested her head against mine. ‘I know. It will get easier. At some point, it will.’
But I didn’t want it to get easier. If it got easier, it would mean I’d forget him, and I didn’t want to forget. Unexplainable as it was, I wanted to carry on feeling the sharp, jagged pain in my heart. It made me seem closer to him, somehow, as if we were still connected.
Jackson’s scream wailed through the baby monitor on the floor in the corner of the room, and Ava stood. ‘Better go and see to him. Then we’ll order some food, yeah? What do you fancy?’
The thought of food made my stomach contract. I didn’t need food. I needed more wine. ‘Whatever. I don’t care. You choose.’
As Ava left the room, my mobile phone rang in my bag. I picked it up and saw that it was Mum and Dad’s number. I hesitated for a moment before answering.
‘Oh, hi, love. How are you?’ she asked.
I wished people would stop asking me that. I’m fucking awful! How do you think I am? I want Jamie back! I want our life back!
I gave the standard answer. ‘I’m okay. How’s Dad?’
‘Oh, he’s got an infection, and he’s in quite a bit of pain. He’s on antibiotics at the moment, though, which seem to be working. The doctors think he’ll be okay soon.’
‘Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that. Give him my love.’
‘I
will.’
‘And how are you?’
‘I’m all right. Just a few aches and pains. The joys of getting old. Still, the sun’s wonderful for my arthritis, so I mustn’t complain.’ She sighed, suddenly sounding old. ‘Are you eating properly?’
‘Yes,’ I lied.
‘Have you managed to get any sleep?’
‘Yes.’ Another lie.
‘Did Ava chat with you about talking to someone? A counsellor? We’ve been discussing it, and we think it’s a good idea.’
A ball of anger welled up inside. I didn’t want to be talked about as if I was a little child who couldn’t take care of herself. But then I pushed it back down. They were only trying to help. It was just that they couldn’t. No one could.
‘Yeah, maybe I’ll do that,’ I said so she wouldn’t talk about it anymore.
‘Good. We think that will be good for you.’
‘Uh-huh.’ The room spun slightly as I zoned out. I didn’t want to listen to useless words that wouldn’t make a difference.
‘Maya? Are you still there?’ Mum said a while later.
‘What? Yes, I’m here.’
‘Oh, I thought you’d been cut off. Anyway, I was saying that Ava told me everything’s all set for the funeral. You’re having the wake at her house, aren’t you?’
‘Yes. I don’t want people in the house. Not yet. It would seem wrong.’
‘I think it’s a good idea. Your friends Lynn and Becca are going to help out with the food and things. And Craig will be back then.’
‘Yeah. Ava told me yesterday.’ I hadn’t even spoken to Lynn and Becca yet since it had happened. I couldn’t face the questions and the sympathy and the meaningless chat that wouldn’t solve anything. They couldn’t understand what I was going through. And I couldn’t trust myself not to break down or blurt out something bitter and jealous.
‘And people from Jamie’s work are coming, Ava said.’
‘Yes. I haven’t been able to get in touch with any of his old army mates—I haven’t found any contact numbers for them.’ I stared at the now empty wine bottle. How did that happen? I went into the kitchen, rummaged around in Ava’s alcohol cupboard, and pulled out another bottle, balancing the phone between the crook of my neck and my ear while I unscrewed the cap. Mum was talking again, but I wasn’t listening. Instead, I just gave yeses and noes every now and then.
