Here We Lie

by Sophie McKenzie

  ‘Hi, Mart,’ she said. ‘Rose?’

  She could hear in his voice that something was terribly wrong.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’ve been arrested,’ he said. ‘I’m not being charged but . . .’ His voice cracked. ‘Could you come?’

  Martin shucked off his jacket. Much to his relief the house was empty. Robbo was away visiting his parents, while Nathaniel and Dev, both of whom he sometimes slept with, were out. Rose followed him into the living room. She sat down on the edge of the couch, still in her coat. Martin glanced at her: she was tight-lipped, tense. Nothing unusual about that. Rose had been uptight for as long as he could remember. She was really the last person he’d wanted to turn to, but as she was also the only person he could turn to, there hadn’t been much choice.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t even on the anniversary.’

  Martin frowned. Unlike his sister, to whom the anniversaries of their parents’ deaths seemed incredibly important, he deliberately only allowed himself a vague idea of the date as having occurred in early November.

  ‘Just promise me . . .’ Rose went on, now staring down at the threadbare carpet . . . ‘that it won’t ever happen again. And that Emily will never know.’

  Martin turned away from her and wandered over to the window. He wished, now, that he hadn’t called her. She was making too big a deal of it. All that had happened was that he’d been caught smoking some pot outside a student pub. It was hardly crime of the century. Just because Rose was so straitlaced that she had probably never even seen a joint, it wasn’t fair to judge him. Cannabis was harmless, everyone said so. What would Rose say if she knew about the E’s he took every weekend and sometimes during the week – or the regular lines of coke or the acid or the ketamine?

  ‘Mart?’

  He turned around. ‘I won’t tell Emily, I promise.’

  ‘What about not doing it again.’ Rose indicated the living room. ‘And this place is filthy.’

  ‘What’s that got to—?’ Martin stopped. This was typical Rose, he was starting to realize. Throwing two apparently unrelated comments at him to confuse him, but somehow connecting them in her head. He took a stab at the connection. ‘If you are implying that I’m living in some kind of drugs den, then you’ve got it all wrong.’

  ‘I just think you should take a bit of responsibility for yourself,’ Rose went on. She folded her arms. ‘It’s not fair making me do it all.’

  ‘Right.’ Martin suddenly saw why Rose was so tight-lipped, so resentful.

  She was talking about Emily.

  Martin felt a wave of anger well inside him. Talk about ‘not fair’: Rose had chosen to take on their sister. She lived for Emily. And looking after her suited Rose. Not that Emily really needed that much looking after any more.

  ‘Don’t use Emily as an excuse,’ he snapped. ‘She’s sixteen.’

  Rose glared at him. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I know what you’re really saying: that you’re Mrs Mature, staying at home and working and being a big sister and I’m just mucking about, having fun at uni, being lazy, having a laugh. Well, you know what, Rose? You should try laughing sometimes too, not to mention stopping hiding behind Emily as an excuse for not getting on with your own life—’ Martin stopped in horror. Two fat tears were rolling down his sister’s cheeks. Guilt seared him, swamping the fury. He stood, feeling awkward, while Rose wiped her eyes. She suddenly looked just like Mum, crying when Dad shouted at her.

  ‘I’m just trying to do my best,’ she muttered.

  ‘I know.’ Martin looked at the dirty floor. Rose was right, it was a bit of a tip in here – and he was a little lazy if truth be told. But he was right too. Rose was scared of life and taking care of their sister – for all it was a selfless, generous thing to do – was also a way of avoiding challenges. A way of staying stuck.

  But it wasn’t right to attack Rose about that. He wasn’t going to be like Dad, making people he loved cry. Not ever. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said sheepishly. Then he took a deep breath. Better to lie and make things right between them, than tell the truth and hurt one of the only two people in the world who he knew for sure had – and would always have – his back.

  ‘I didn’t mean any of that,’ he said. ‘You’re a brilliant sister and the bravest person I know. That’s why I called you when they arrested me.’

  Rose looked up, mouth trembling. He held his breath, unsure why it was so desperately important that she stopped being upset.

  And then, to his relief, his sister smiled.

  DECEMBER 2014

  Dan and I are outside the police station. Dan is checking his phone, dealing with a message from work. My heart is beating fast and hard. Can I really do this? It’s one thing to suspect someone of a terrible crime, quite another to make a public accusation. And what about the fall-out on Jed? Will he ever forgive me for telling the police that I believe his son has tried to kill me twice – and that his daughter was the unintended victim of the first murder attempt?

  The sun is shining, fierce and bright. I close my eyes, remembering the moment I felt that shove, then the fall through the air, the sudden pain in my arm when the young man gripped me and saved me.

  I am doing the right thing. Because I have been lucky so far – but I may not be a third time. And because this is the only way to find justice for Dee Dee.

  I open my eyes. Dan pockets his phone and turns to me.

  ‘Ready?’

  The young police officer listens as I repeat my story yet again. He takes some more notes, then asks me to wait. Dan has already been taken off into another interview room. I wonder if it looks the same as the one I’m in: beige walls, threadbare carpet, flimsy, plasticky chairs and tables. I feel sick to my stomach. All I can think is that Jed will never forgive me. I’ve told the police about everything, from Zoe’s text and her letter to Lish to the drugs Lish sold Dan and the notebook containing details of his deals – and, of course, the tube platform attack. It’s all out there now, in the open. And while it’s a relief to have spoken, I’m also terrified about what will happen next. I feel like I’ve thrown my entire life up in the air and I’m now forced to stand, watching it spin and fall to the ground, wondering how things will settle.

  The clock on the wall ticks slowly and loudly on. What are the police doing? I wait. And I wait. And I wait.

  Eventually the young officer returns. ‘I’ve got things moving,’ he says.

  ‘What does, er, that mean exactly?’

  He clears his throat. ‘We’re looking into it,’ he says. ‘You’ll probably be contacted again in the next few days.’

  ‘Right.’ Is it normal for the police to be so neutral? This guy seems almost wary of me.

  ‘Where’s Dan, the guy I came in with?’

  ‘He’s still talking to someone.’ The officer studies me. ‘But your fiancé is waiting for you outside. Jed Kennedy.’

  A fist clutches my guts and squeezes hard. ‘Jed?’ I gasp. ‘Here? How did he know I was here?’

  The officer frowns. ‘Are you afraid for your safety, Emily? Because if you are, we can—’

  ‘No.’ I stand up. I can’t believe Jed will hurt me. And I have to face him at some point. ‘So you’ll definitely investigate?’

  The officer bristles slightly. ‘As I said, we will look into everything you’ve told us.’

  ‘Right,’ I repeat, standing up. I follow the officer out of the room, along the corridor then back out past the duty sergeant’s desk into the waiting room. My heart is thumping so hard I can only just hear the squeak of the officer’s rubber soles on the linoleum floor. Any second I will have to face Jed. I cannot imagine how furious he will be. The room is crowded now. I glance around. Where is he?

  ‘Emily?’

  There. Jed is standing beside an empty seat. Lish is next to him. I gasp in horror. What is Lish doing here? The boy doesn’t meet my eyes. He is looking at his dad who is looking at me: fac
e drawn and exhausted, expression utterly miserable.

  ‘Jed.’ I am frozen to the spot. The officer has melted away. Lish moves out of my sight as Jed strides towards me.

  ‘Oh, baby.’ He lets out a strangled sob as he reaches me. There are tears in his eyes. ‘Oh, baby, what have you done?’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I can barely get the words out as Jed pulls me into a hug. I disentangle myself. ‘How did you know I was here?’

  ‘Your phone.’ Jed points to my handbag. ‘I switched your Apple ID to mine the other day after you told me . . . what you’d been doing . . . so I could see where you were.’

  My mouth gapes. ‘You’ve been spying on me?’

  ‘No.’ Jed looks horrified. ‘Of course not, baby, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.’

  ‘By stalking me?’ I can’t believe it.

  ‘No, not at all. It’s just you’ve been acting so weird, making all these claims against Lish.’

  ‘They’re true.’ My breath catches in my throat. I can’t believe Jed has actually gone into my phone and changed the settings. I glance around the room. No one is paying us any attention. All eyes are on an argument which has broken out across the waiting room. There is no sign of Lish.

  ‘Where did Lish go?’ I demand. ‘Why is he here?’

  ‘When I saw where you were, I called him,’ Jed says, his voice tight with emotion. ‘He agrees that making a statement is the best way to deal with false accusations, so he’s here to do just that.’

  I shake my head. ‘I’m so sorry, Jed, but they’re not false accusations. He’s involved in drug dealing, using potassium cyanide . . . my attack in the tube yesterday.’

  ‘Lish has an alibi for yesterday morning,’ Jed interrupts. ‘He was in a lecture, there were lots of witnesses. He was miles away in Southampton.’

  ‘Then I was pushed by someone he’s working with . . .’

  ‘Please.’ Jed bats this away. ‘Lish says he’s happy for the police to search his flat and he assures me they will find nothing there, no drugs, nothing suspicious.’

  I’m sure this at least is true. After all, I searched his room myself and only found Zoe’s letter.

  Zoe. I suddenly remember yesterday’s visit. ‘You told Zoe everything – you went and told her what I was saying, you said you’d been down to Lish’s university and—’

  ‘I have been there. And of course I told Zoe.’ Jed frowns. ‘She’s his mother.’ He moves closer. ‘Please, baby, my son is not a drug dealer. Dan Thackeray has fabricated the whole story.’

  ‘Dan gave me the fake Valium Lish sold him. I saw Lish’s notebook.’

  ‘Dan made those things up.’ Jed takes my hand.

  ‘No.’ I pull it away. ‘He recorded the meeting, he told me all about it.’

  ‘He made it up,’ Jed repeats. ‘Think about it. Did you actually hear a recording?’

  ‘No,’ I admit. ‘But that’s because Dan destroyed it as . . . as a way of proving he wasn’t going to use the story.’

  ‘How convenient,’ Jed sneers.

  ‘I was still attacked yesterday, Jed.’

  ‘I know, baby, and I’m so sorry that happened to you, but whoever did it must have been a common-or-garden mugger, probably just after your cash. Then they took the Valium too, because it was there. You said yourself the bruise on your arm was from where someone tried to save you. I understand it was upsetting, but I doubt if it was attempted murder. And it certainly didn’t have anything to do with my son.’

  My head spins. He’s wrong. I know he is wrong.

  ‘Please come home with me.’ Jed’s voice cracks. ‘If you don’t love me any more then that’s one thing, but if all this . . .’ He waves his hand to indicate the police station. ‘If being here is just because Dan Thackeray has filled your head with lies, then I’m not letting you go. I’m not letting the fucker win that easily.’

  ‘Win?’ A dull weight settles in my guts. ‘Win what? I told you, Dan agreed to drop the story about you. He’s just trying to help me.’

  ‘Help himself, you mean.’ Jed says. ‘Dan Thackeray isn’t doing all this to get a story on me. That’s what I thought at first, but it isn’t true, at least not any more. I’ve talked to your sister and she helped me see it. Dan Thackeray has made up all this stuff about Lish to get you.’

  I stare at him, shocked that he has been speaking to Rose now, as well as Zoe. For a moment I waver. Could it really be true that Dan has made everything up to get me back? I think about our kiss and the look of longing in Dan’s eyes. He has feelings for me, that’s true, but he wouldn’t fabricate an entire narrative about Lish just to prise me away from Jed. Apart from anything else, it’s not Dan’s style to be so calculating where his emotions are concerned.

  Jed clenches his fists. ‘Dan Thackeray is a first-class bastard. Rose filled me in on some of the details from your past: how he messed you around when you were younger. If I see him I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop myself from hitting him. Not this time.’ He pulls me towards him. ‘Please come home, baby. I’ve taken the rest of the week off. I’m sorry, I know this is partly my fault. I’ve been distracted with the court case against Benecke Tricorp, preoccupied since losing Dee Dee.’ His hand is strong and heavy on my arm. ‘Please, I can’t lose you too.’

  I hesitate. Dan is still inside the station, talking to the police. I want to speak to him, to find out what he’s said, what they’ve told him. But I also don’t want Jed to carry out his threat. Better they don’t meet right now. So I let Jed lead me out of the police station. I can call Dan later.

  Our drive home is silent. Jed glances at me occasionally and there is such pain in his expression I can’t meet his gaze.

  ‘Oh, shit,’ Jed says as we turn the corner into our road.

  I look up. Zoe is standing outside the house, her arms folded. As Jed parks she starts pacing along the pavement towards us. Jed gives a weary sigh.

  ‘Go in the house,’ he says. ‘I’ll deal with her.’

  As I get out Zoe lets rip. ‘How could you do this, you whore?’ she snarls, racing over in vertiginous heels. I hurry past her, taking in a flash of the apple green skirt poking out under the pink coat. ‘You fucking cruel, stupid bitch.’

  I keep going, head down. I can hear Jed behind us, ordering Zoe to stop, but Zoe stays beside me, her heels clacking against the pavement. ‘I told you it was me who sent you that text,’ she hisses under her breath. ‘I totally humiliated myself so that you would fucking back off, and instead you’ve made things even worse.’

  I reach the front door and turn to face her. Zoe’s eyes blaze, her mouth tight, everything tensed. Lines crease at her temples but her forehead is weirdly smooth. Definitely Botox then. I swallow the thought down.

  ‘I told the truth,’ I say quietly. ‘I told the police what I honestly believe.’

  Zoe stares at me. Before she can speak again, I hurry inside and shut the door. Outside I can hear her yelling at Jed now, his own voice taut with frustration as he tries to make her leave. As I slip off my jacket and hang it on the back of a kitchen chair my phone rings. The number is withheld. It could easily be Dan, calling from a landline at the police station. I take the call.

  ‘Is that the little bird?’ The voice is disguised, mechanical, but I’m certain it’s male; the low growl is full of menace. ‘The little bird who’s been talking?’

  I freeze, my hand resting on the kitchen table. ‘Who is this?’

  The line goes dead. I stare down at the phone. Was that Lish? His drug-dealing contact? I must know the caller. Why else would they disguise their voice? The front door opens and shuts behind me. A second later Jed stomps into the kitchen.

  ‘Bloody woman,’ he mutters. ‘I was fucking dealing with it.’

  I turn around to face him, barely registering that he is talking about Zoe.

  ‘Someone just called me, they threatened me, Jed. At least . . .’

  ‘Stop it,’ he snaps. ‘Seriously, enough wi
th the melodramatics.’

  ‘Jed, I’m not making this up.’ I shove my phone under his nose. ‘See? They withheld their number. They said something about a “little bird” who’d been talking.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘What d’you mean, “and”? It was a threat.’

  ‘More likely it’s fucking Thackeray again, setting you up.’

  I shake my head. Why can’t he see what’s happening? Why won’t he believe me? I take a deep breath.

  ‘Jed, sweetheart, I can’t begin to imagine how hard this is, having to deal with me and Zoe and everything you’re hearing about Lish . . . but don’t you want justice for Dee Dee? Isn’t her life worth as much as Lish’s freedom?’ I pause. ‘Why are you so determined to believe Lish can’t possibly have been drug dealing?’

  Jed’s mouth trembles, just a fraction. ‘I admit that my starting point may be a bit biased about Lish, but I’ve seen absolutely no proof that he’s done anything wrong. Anyway, can you not see that you’re ten times more blinkered about Dan Thackeray?’

  ‘This isn’t about Dan,’ I insist. ‘It’s about your son. If Lish is mixed up in something bad, which I’m sure he is and that phone call I just had proves it, then don’t you want to do something to stop that? Don’t you want to help him?’

  Jed’s eyes fill with anger. ‘Don’t talk to me about my children,’ he snaps. ‘You don’t know anything about what I want for my children.’

  I feel like he’s just slapped my face. My phone rings again, blasting into the tense silence. I glance down at the screen. It’s Dan. I rush past Jed and up to our bedroom, answering only when the door is closed.

  ‘Hi.’ I sit heavily on the bed, letting what happened downstairs sink in. Jed doesn’t believe me, isn’t ever going to believe me.

  ‘Em?’ Dan’s voice is full of concern. ‘Where are you? I just got out of the police station and you’d gone.’

  ‘Jed turned up.’ I’m struggling to stop my voice from shaking. ‘He was angry, I didn’t want him to see you so it was easier to leave.’