How to Play Dead

by Jacqueline Ward

  As soon as I am alone a sense of dread falls over me. SafeMe means so much to me, and losing the funding would be a catastrophe. We have no Plan B. Janice and I would get through, but it isn’t me I’m worried about. I know that, even after the Frank incident at the meeting, the decision is already made. One way or another, we will know tomorrow and no amount of worrying can change it now.

  I make coffee and grab some biscuits, even though I am full after Vi’s dinner. I flick on the TV and half watch The Antiques Roadshow, but my mind drifts to everything that can go wrong this week: to Sheila, to the funding, to SafeMe closing and us ending the week with no jobs. It’s an uneasy feeling with an edge of sadness, tainted by a sense of injustice that I can do nothing about.

  I assess my situation. Am I in danger? Any more danger than someone on the Tube who has been sent a dick pic and some horrible messages? Been videoed and had it sent to them? This flat is like Fort Knox, it has to be round here. But I am in danger of going completely mad. I think yet again about telling Carole everything. But I also think about the children, the police turning up and having to explain it to two distressed, tired kids, who would tell Daddy and then he wouldn’t want to leave me on my own. With only three days to go until the end of his contract.

  I am fifteen again, in my bedroom, hugging myself as I worry about what will happen next. How this will play out. I am sitting amongst my dolls and posters and my school books, thinking adult thoughts and worrying adult worries that I was not supposed to know about. I was worrying and my head was filled with half-cocked scenarios that I could not fully envisage because I didn’t know the world.

  But now I do know the world. I know the ultimate bad things that happen to others. But they are happening, they really are. Yet when I tell people they sound trivial. Petty. A man sending my picture of his cock. Even the police had normalised it. He parked outside my work; called on me with flowers. I haven’t even told anyone except Carole he grabbed me or cut my hair because it sounds too crazy – that he could do that and not be arrested? Put it all together and you have a sinister, cruel, psychopath who is out for kicks. I shudder.

  I get the baby gate out from a cupboard and carry it to the lounge doorway. It is loud and tinny and, if anyone got in I would hear it immediately. I check the locks on the front and back doors and peep behind the curtains, my heart beating fast; I check the window locks. There is no way in. I will not come downstairs until it is light and I can see out and see he isn’t there. He is closer now. But I am closer too. Closer to him doing something drastic that I can report. I cling on to this; it gives me a sliver of comfort as I climb under the quilt where Danny and I made love only this morning. I am shaking as I wait for tomorrow to come.

  Tanya

  Diary Entry: Sunday

  I am writing this last entry now as a confession. I don’t think I am going to make it. My leg won’t stop bleeding and I am so weak.

  So here goes. I fully knew what I was doing when I ran away with Alan Cartwright. It was no one else’s fault except mine and his. Ria is completely innocent in all this. She was never anything except the best friend in the whole world to me. She was the kind of kid who would give you their last sweet, and I let her. She looked after me, kept me safe when my mum left. No matter what he says, she has done nothing wrong.

  It’s all so clear now. I could have just walked away from him. People tried to help me. I didn’t. Because he would always be there, out there somewhere waiting for me. He would get me. He told me he would find me. And Tina. What he did to her. So I couldn’t. I had no proof. We just looked like any other couple.

  There was one time I did mention it to someone, a lady who asked me if I wanted any help when he sent me into a newsagent’s for a paper once. When I still had hope. I knew she meant help with the papers, or the mints I was clutching, but this was my only chance. I could feel his eyes on me so I spoke quickly.

  ‘Yes. Yes. My husband, he …’

  She’s looked at me in a strange way, her face changing to a blank expression. She had pushed the change into my hand and looked away.

  ‘He hits me.’

  She looked up, scanning me for injuries.

  ‘Go and see your doctor, love. They’ll help.’

  I’d taken a deep breath. This was my only chance.

  ‘He said he was going to kill me.’

  I’d expected horror, but instead her face relaxed into a kindly smile.

  ‘It’s a figure of speech, love. He’s not really going to kill you.’ She looked past me, into the car. ‘Look. He’s looking for you. Doesn’t look like he’s going to murder you, does it?’

  And she was right. It didn’t look like that to anyone. It just looked like he was the doting husband. I’d told someone and nothing had happened. That was when I finally lost hope.

  But it isn’t a figure of speech and I always knew it wasn’t. I always knew it would come to this. And here I am. But Ria. She has suffered because of me. She has had to keep secret what he did to her for all this time. I know him. He would have threatened her too. Made her do it. Now I have forced it into the open. Whoever finds me, please tell Ria I love her and I never meant to hurt her.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Day 2

  Monday morning and Danny has been and gone. I must have dozed off and the next thing I knew he was climbing out of bed. I watched him through barely open eyes, wanting desperately to beg him to lock the doors behind him, to check them twice, three times.

  Instead, I crept down when I heard the door close gently and made sure the catch was on. I’d had to unbolt the front door and move the baby gate before I went to sleep otherwise Danny wouldn’t have been able to get back in, and now I stand behind the door, too scared even to look outside. It is light and I check my phone. Five o’clock. I go back upstairs and lie there until the kids erupt from their rooms.

  The walk to school is fraught with red cars passing me. I drop them off and tell them again about stranger danger. It’s wearing thin now and they roll their eyes and run to their friends. I stand there until the door close and watch Janet’s mum breeze away to her car. Today is going to be super difficult. I know in my heart that the funding bid is not going to be straightforward. Not after the meeting the other day.

  I arrive at SafeMe and I am right. Janice is waiting for me on the front steps. She’s wearing a business suit and I look down at my Day-Glo blue dungarees.

  ‘Today’s the day. Adele Baker herself is coming over to deliver the decision. At one. Straight after Perps.’

  We both automatically look at the gate. There are several men gathered there and a few standing by the pub. All ignoring each other. Malc is watching them, arms folded.

  ‘Bloody hell.’

  We look at each other in a ‘this can mean anything’ kind of way, and it can. Adele might be coming to make a show of good news. Or she might want to explain why it’s bad news. Either way it’s going to be today. At one. Then we will know for sure what the future of SafeMe is. And our own futures. Janice nods towards the men.

  ‘So d’you thing Frankie will show? You know? Just to make a point? He must know what we did.’

  I snort. ‘What I did. It’s not like I ran it by you, is it? And I’m sorry about that. But there was no alternative I could see. I wasn’t letting that slimy little bastard get away with it.’

  She smiles and pats my arm.

  ‘I wish I’d thought of it. Quick off the mark, you, Ria. That’s why I love you, mate.’

  We go inside and prepare the room. All the while I am watching for Frank’s car to pull up and for him to walk nonchalantly into the main room, his boys bearing gifts behind him. The men file in and sit down and Janice plugs in the tea urn. The weather outside is grey and pallid, a little bit dark, which only serves to make the twinkly fairy lights on the branches above the perpetrators brighter and more cheerful. They, by contrast, look miserable, like they would rather be anywhere else.

  We wait a while but Frank d
oes not show. I’m not sure how I feel about it, slightly panicky perhaps, because he is my only lifeline to Sheila now. Not that he would divulge anything to me, but if I saw Frank I would think of her. Funny. I thought he would be here to prove a point, to gloat over us. To deliver another bribe. But, now he has what he wants, why would he? I try to imagine them having a cup of tea in their home, sitting together all made up and happy, Sheila chain-smoking and Frank knocking golf balls into a cup across the lounge.

  In my heart I know this is not the case. Just as my life, blessed as I am with Danny and my beautiful children, should be fabulous and carefree, but it isn’t, Sheila’s financial-worry-free existence is haunted by other pressing matters. It rarely is that simple. For all I know, Janet’s mum could be the loneliest person in the world, sitting in her show-home alone all day.

  Time ticks on and the perpetrators are unusually quiet today. I finally admit to myself that Frank will not come to any more meetings. It really was all lies, all front, and why would I be surprised? I glance at the clock and I look outside. It starts to rain and I go to the window and check that the red car isn’t parked in its usual place, three cars up in the road by the gate. It isn’t. I wonder if I imagined it. If I am losing the plot. Going mad. Getting it all out of proportion. You always had a good imagination, Ria.

  One of the perps is crying, having a breakthrough as Janice explains that everyone can have a fresh start and that their partners are just as entitled as they are. Explaining about what fear does to a person, how it shuts them down, silences them. He is sobbing, and I go and sit by him. I know what he has done; I know what he was charged with. I don’t hate him. I don’t feel sorry for him either. I’m just glad that he’s reached a stage on his journey where he understands, where he isn’t in denial, and where he wants to make amends.

  I pass him a tissue and smile at him, while the other men sit, arms folded and legs crossed, their faces contorted into expressions ranging from disgust to envy. The meeting comes to a slightly premature end and they filter to the back of the hall and get tea or coffee while we tell Lee how to access counselling and ongoing anger management. It’s a small triumph in a sea of tragedy and desperation, but it is worth it, and as I turn around I see that Adele Baker thinks so too.

  She is standing in the sheltered entrance, hands deep in her black trench coat pockets, watching us. She smiles gently and I am suddenly aware of my clothes, my hair and my make-up. No time now to rush to my locker and change into my business suit. I hurry over and hold out my hand.

  ‘Hi. Hi. Sorry. We just had the perpetrator counselling. I …’

  She takes my hand. She has a strong grip.

  ‘Yes. I’ve been here about fifteen minutes.’ She looks around the room. ‘This place. Extraordinary.’ She stares at me now, her dark eyes piercing. ‘Look, Ria, I wanted to meet with you and Janice prior to the official decision meeting. Is there somewhere …?’

  I bet she does. I feel my temper rise. Of course she wants to meet us. The business between Frank and Trevor has been contained so far, and I knew she would want reassurance that it would go no further. Adele’s reputation on the council precedes her. Social Services refer to her as the smiling assassin as she doles out cuts to services without a hint of regret. She has done wonders for some areas but others have been left to rot. And SafeMe is right in the centre of the crap catchment as we refer to the rubbish-filled alleyways and rat sightings. I signal to Janice and she speaks to Malc, who supervises everyone out of the building. Janice waves her into our office.

  ‘Right. Here we are.’

  Adele looks around, upwards. I nod.

  ‘No. We’re not recording you, Adele. The only reason I recorded Frank was because I felt in danger. You could see his attitude: threatening.’

  She nods and brings some papers out of her bag.

  ‘Yes. I’ve watched the footage several times. I can only apologise for my colleague’s behaviour. I can assure you that he has been dealt with appropriately.’

  Janice’s eyebrows shoot upwards. ‘Oh. And how might that be? Slap on the wrist. Cufflinks temporarily confiscated? He took a bribe.’

  Adele shifts in her chair uncomfortably.

  ‘He did. And that is what I am here about.’ She hands us the recommendation report. We read it as she continues. ‘As you can see, the recommendation is that SafeMe does not receive full funding.’

  I throw my copy on the desk. The pages skid across the surface and teeter on the edge. She goes to save them but I just stare at her.

  ‘OK. So the recommendation is to leave this area without a specialist service?’

  She shakes her head. ‘No. It would go to Redeem—’

  Janice intervenes. ‘Which is not a specialist service. Come on. You know this. You just don’t give a fuck.’

  I stifle a laugh. Oh yes. Let the games begin. Adele’s eyes widen, but she stays calm.

  ‘It isn’t a case of not … caring. It is budget considerations. As you know, too. Obviously if we could keep all the services we would, but …’

  Janice smirks. ‘So what would you rather have: a newly built meeting room for the council scrapped or dead women? Because that is the reality, isn’t it?’

  Adele looks at me, then Janice. She is lost for words. I step up.

  ‘Let me help you. If you don’t fund this place, people will suffer. Really suffer. Not just have nowhere to go on a night out or some rubbish in the street. It really is life or death for some of them, Adele.’

  She rummages in her bag.

  ‘And that’s why I am here.’ I look at Janice, who gives me a that is definitely not why she is fucking here glance. ‘What I wanted to ask you is …’

  I shake my head. It’s fucking obvious why she is here. She knows that no matter which way this goes, the council has been bribed by Frank James, ex-mayor and councillor. No one knows yet, and she is here to make sure that they never do.

  ‘… are we going to tell anyone about Frank James bribing Trevor? Opening that particular can of worms where, and I am seriously wondering this now, with you sitting here, there might be more despicable shit such as this.’ I look at Janice, who nods imperceptibly. My ‘Ria stare’ hits Adele and she sits upright. ‘All I am going to do is tell the truth. Whether you give us the funding or not, I will tell the truth. It’s not whistleblowing anonymously or telling tales, it is just not lying. So …’

  Adele is thinking. Her face is a study in concentration.

  ‘So even if I endorse the funding you will go to the press?’

  I laugh.

  ‘I never said I would go to the press, although that is an option. To be honest, Adele, I’m quite busy with stopping very angry men assaulting their partners, so writing an email to journalists isn’t on the top of my list. But if I had more time and more reason I might. But I would be just telling the truth. So, no, before you think or say it, I am not bribing you. I am just telling you that I will not keep quiet about what has happened. Even if you give SafeMe the funding, I will tell the truth.’

  I hear Sheila’s voice in my ear, her yellow-stained fingers twisting her diamonds. Tell the truth, lovey. I feel tears rise as I think I hear her say it’s too late for me now and me telling her it’s never too late. I believe it with all my heart. It is never too late. Adele has to take a chance. She has to go with what she believes. I help her along.

  ‘The thing is, Adele, you have to go with your conscience on this one. It’s not all about spreadsheets, is it? And budgets? It’s about people. Not us. Them.’

  I look towards the open door and Sally is bringing her kids back through from the accommodation. Six-year-old Annie spots me and starts the ‘Ria, Ria, diarrhoea’ chant and, in seconds, they are all doubled over laughing. I turn back to Adele.

  ‘Only six weeks ago they were so scared they couldn’t speak. Including their mother. Look at them now. Off to a new home next week. They’re from Gloucester. It was their last chance. Otherwise they would still be enduring …
it.’

  She looks at the paperwork, then she puts it in her bag.

  ‘We’ll find it from somewhere. One year.’

  I come back quickly at her.

  ‘Five years.’

  She’s as quick-fire as me.

  ‘Three years with an option to review and extend at two.’

  I look at Janice. She covers her face with her hands and her relief floods the room like sunshine. She nods.

  ‘Done. But you are not buying our silence. I expect you to make a statement about what happened. And that Trevor will never work on the SafeMe decisions in the future.’

  She smiles. ‘He won’t be working for us in the future. We’ve started proceedings against him. I shouldn’t tell you this but what the hell. He’s admitted everything but said Frank James threatened him so he had no choice. So if, by some strange twist of fate, he is reinstated, I’ll make sure he is in a completely different department. But that still leaves the Frank James problem.’

  I shake my head. ‘His wife returned to the marital home.’

  Adele shows real emotion for the first time in the whole time she has sat there.

  ‘My God. Could you not stop her?’

  I shake my head. ‘No. She hadn’t reported him to the police and there was no injunction. We were just getting her to open up when she went back. In the meantime, he’s been delivering TVs and Xboxes and swanking around like he owns the place. I was a bit worried he would turn up today.’

  She sighs deeply. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this, but he told Trevor that he would finance the funding if it failed. If he does offer …’

  Janice laughs. ‘You’ve got to be kidding. He’s got what he wants now. He’s got his punchbag back, his pride is back intact. I’m guessing that was a time-limited offer, just until we returned Sheila.’