She went for coffee, praying that no one would come in meanwhile, no cleaners or any of her syndicate. Rachel and Janet were still interviewing. No one else was due back. She might get lucky. Lee and Kevin had seen the floorshow and although Lee might be tactful, respectful, Kevin was a gobby little git. He struggled at work and she’d ridden him hard and he’d probably see this as his chance for payback: Lady Muck reckons she’s got it all under control, never puts a foot wrong, but her old man is a pisshead.
She went back upstairs with the drinks. Dave was where she’d left him. He smiled inanely when he saw her. She gave him a coffee. Told him to drink it.
‘Why are you here?’ She intended to be calm, to try to reason with him. Get him to understand the boundaries.
‘Sorry,’ he slurred. He reeked. 40 per cent proof in his veins instead of blood. ‘To say sorry, sorry for last night.’
‘Sorry? Look at you now.’
‘Got a taxi,’ he said, ‘not the car, no car.’ As though that made everything all right.
‘You come here, you barge into my office in front of my colleagues, you can’t even see straight, you stink like a brewery and you call this some sort of apology.’
‘Sorry,’ he said again.
‘You can’t do this, Dave. You are not part of my life any more.’
‘Just friends.’
‘No.’ She shook her head irritably. ‘Not friends. Not even that. Not anything. You left me, Dave. It’s over. It’s dead and buried. I’ve moved on and you need to do the same. And this, getting pissed out of your head, have you any idea what people think? Word gets round – and it will – you’ll be suspended.’
‘OK, OK.’ He waved his hands to shut her up. ‘You are out of control,’ she said, ‘sort it.’ She felt her temper rising, warmth in her face.
‘You don’t understand—’
‘You’ve got that right. And you need to understand …’ she said hotly, ‘… you need to understand that you are making a complete prick of yourself. You could lose everything.’
‘I already have,’ he said.
‘Oh, spare me the bloody melodrama.’
She began to clear up the stuff scattered over the floor, papers and pens and Post-it notes. Kevin’s in-tray, his Man United trinkets. Arranged them roughly on the desk.
‘Get up,’ she said. ‘I’ll drive you home.’ She didn’t want to say ‘to your mother’s’, didn’t want to rub it in.
‘I can get a cab,’ he offered.
‘No.’ She didn’t trust him not to just head off to some pub or off-licence. At least if he got into the house he might sleep it off. God knows how his mother was coping with it. But that wasn’t Gill’s concern.
Dave went to stand up, failed, tried again and made it.
There was a dark patch round his crotch. Oh God, he’d pissed himself. He wasn’t even aware he’d done it. She felt her stomach drop, a moment’s sadness. This had gone way beyond the occasional bender. He had been a proud man, a vain man who thought he was cleverer than he really was. Sometimes a stupid, weak man, particularly where women were concerned. Now he was a wreck. How could he not see that, sense her disgust, want to stop it?
‘You come here again,’ she said, ‘off your face and I will have you escorted from the building and inform professional standards.’
12
Noel Perry requested a break after an hour and a half of denial and stonewalling. Janet went up to the incident room. She switched her phone on. Elise had replied to Janet’s earlier text which had read Money in jar 4 taxi. Take extra £20 in case. Have fun xxx. Elise’s reply: LYSM. Love You So Much. Did Rachel know that one? Janet liked to test her every so often.
Rachel was still in with Neil Perry but Gill had disappeared. No Lee or Kevin either; it was getting late but they always worked late on a murder. Kevin had left his desk in a right mess. There was a stapler on the floor nearby and a whiff of booze in the air. Had someone been spicing up their brew with a drop of the hard stuff? If Gill found out, they’d be off the syndicate so fast their feet wouldn’t touch the floor.
Janet drank some juice from the carton she kept in the fridge and checked her e-mails. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been totally alone in the office. It felt spooky. Like the Marie Celeste. Tired, she told herself, that’s all. She logged off and washed her cup. The tap made a clanking sound which startled her and brought a rash of gooseflesh to her arms.
When her phone rang, she was halfway downstairs, her footsteps echoing in the empty stairwell. Elise.
‘Hi,’ Janet answered. Only ten o’clock. Had they not been able to find the party? Had they had enough?
‘Mum.’ Elise’s voice was high with panic. ‘Mum, it’s Olivia. I don’t know what to do. I can’t wake her up. Mum, please.’
Shock riveted Janet to the spot. She could hear noises in the background, voices, more distantly the thud of a bass line. A shout of laughter.
‘Where are you?’ Janet said.
‘At the party.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘Olivia’s collapsed. I can’t wake her up.’
‘Why’s she collapsed?’
‘I don’t know,’ Elise said wildly, ‘I don’t know, she just … she just fell down.’
‘Call an ambulance—’
‘But—’
‘Elise, listen, call an ambulance and tell them exactly what happened. Stay with Olivia. Do whatever they tell you. Yes?’
‘Mum—’
‘I’m coming. What number is it?’
‘Sixty-four,’ she said, beginning to cry.
‘Elise, hang up and call the ambulance. Call them now.’ The line went dead.
Janet ran downstairs, heart in her mouth. She told the custody sergeant she was leaving, a family emergency, and to inform Noel Perry’s solicitor to attend the following morning at 9am for a 24-hour superintendent review. At that point, all being well, they’d be granted another twelve hours to talk to the Perrys, and if they needed yet more time then they’d go to court to apply for a further thirty-six hours.
Thankfully the lights were with her all the way as she drove as quickly as she dared to the address Elise had given her. Reaching the avenue – a development of upmarket three- and four-bedroom modern houses, with open-plan gardens – she saw the ambulance was already there and a patrol car as well. People outside the house, party-goers, Janet assumed, were drifting away in small groups.
The front door was ajar, all the lights on, inside more young people, and an atmosphere she recognized: the drained, worried faces, the stunned silence or muted comments.
‘Where’s Olivia Canning?’ she said to a couple sitting on the stairs. They both held bottles of Spanish beer, slices of lime wedged in the necks.
‘Through there,’ the girl said, nodding at a door towards the back of the house.
As Janet reached it, the door swung open and a uniformed cop came through. Behind him she glimpsed the high-vis jackets of paramedics.
‘Olivia Canning,’ Janet said.
‘You her mother?’ said the cop.
Janet shook her head. ‘My daughter’s with her. I’m DC Scott.’
He blinked, reassessing her. ‘They’re bringing her out soon. Taking her up to A&E.’
‘Do we know how—’ Janet began but he apologized, ‘Sorry, I need to get names and addresses.’
Janet stared at him.
‘She’s unresponsive,’ he said. He didn’t say any more. Janet swallowed, fought the fears crowding behind her breastbone. She went into the room.
‘Mum.’ Elise broke away from a group of teenagers huddled to the left of the room and came to Janet, who hugged her. Olivia lay on the floor on a stretcher. The paramedics had put an oxygen mask over her face, a cellular blanket around her.
‘Can you get the door?’ the nearest paramedic said.
Janet released Elise and pulled the door open.
‘Cheers,’ he said. They lifted the stretcher, releasing the whe
els that turned it into a trolley, and guided it slowly through the entrance hall.
‘Which hospital?’ Janet asked.
‘Oldham General.’
‘Did you ring Vivien and Ken?’ Janet said to Elise.
Elise looked wrung out, puffy red nose, swollen lips, mascara smeared black under her eyes. She pressed her lips together and more tears came. ‘They’re away for the weekend,’ she said.
‘But you were staying … Oh God. Away where?’
‘Edinburgh,’ she squeaked.
‘They need to know, now!’ said Janet.
‘I don’t have their numbers.’
‘Christ!’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—’
‘What? Spin me some story?’ Janet had almost rung Vivien to check she was happy about the arrangements. But she had trusted Elise. She took a deep breath. ‘Never mind about that now. We need to get to the hospital and get Vivien’s number from Olivia’s phone. She’s never collapsed like this before, has she?’ Janet studied her daughter’s face.
‘No.’
‘What was she drinking?’
‘Just cider.’
‘Just cider,’ Janet said. ‘How much cider?’
‘Not much,’ Elise said.
‘Did she take anything?’ Janet was vaguely aware of people in the room clearing up cans and dirty glasses.
‘No,’ Elise said. Too quickly. Janet looked at her; Elise wouldn’t meet her gaze. ‘What did she take, Elise?’ Janet lowered her voice, repeated the question, ‘What did she take?’
‘It was legal, Mum.’
‘What?’
‘They call it Paradise.’
‘Paradise,’ Janet said. ‘Did you take it as well?’
‘Yes. It’s supposed to just give you more energy, a bit of a buzz.’
Janet felt like screaming.
‘Did you tell the paramedics?’
‘Yes.’
Thank God for that. ‘Come on.’ Janet, her blood boiling, frightened and furious, led her daughter out into the hall.
They were stopped at the front door by the police officer. ‘I need your name and contact details,’ he said to Elise.
‘Elise Scott,’ she said. She gave her address and her mobile phone number.
‘And you rang the ambulance?’ he checked.
‘Yes.’
‘You accompanied Olivia to the party?’
‘Yes,’ Elise said.
As they got into the car and Janet started the engine it struck her that she’d seen no other middle-aged adults at the house. ‘Where are the boys’ parents?’ she said. ‘Weren’t they supposed to be supervising?’
‘They went to the theatre,’ Elsie said. ‘They’ll be back later.’
‘Bloody hell, Elise, was there anything else you lied about?’
Elise began to cry. Christ, Janet thought, just let Olivia be all right, please. Let her be OK.
Janet’s phone rang again while she was parking at the hospital. Unknown number.
‘Hello?’ she answered.
‘Janet, it’s Vivien Canning,’ her voice shook, riddled with fear, ‘we’ve just heard from the hospital. Have you seen her?’
‘Vivien, I’m so sorry, we’ve just got here,’ Janet said. ‘We’ll try and find out what’s happening.’
‘They say she took drugs,’ Vivien said.
‘Yes, some sort of legal high, apparently.’
‘Ken is going to get a hire car, there are no flights at this time of night. Oh God, Janet.’
It could’ve been me, Janet thought, Elise on the stretcher.
‘Please, anything you hear, anything at all—’
‘Of course,’ Janet said, ‘I promise.’ Even with the best driving in the world it would take four hours to travel from Edinburgh.
Elise had her eyes closed. Janet shook her, a rush of terror that she was having the same reaction. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Just dizzy.’
‘I’m going to ask them to look at you,’ Janet said.
‘I’m fine.’
Janet glared at her.
‘OK,’ Elise said, close to tears.
At the Accident and Emergency reception, Janet first asked after Olivia.
‘Are you a relative?’
‘Loco parentis,’ Janet said, ‘our daughters are friends. I’ve just spoken to Olivia’s mother, they’ll be here as soon as possible, coming down from Edinburgh. I was looking after Olivia while they were away.’ As an afterthought Janet showed her warrant card. This would mean that she was CRB-checked at least – fit to work with children. That seemed to be enough. The clerk looked at the screen. ‘She’s in Resus.’
Janet’s stomach turned: resuscitation was not good. Resus meant that Olivia was critically ill, that her life was in danger, that they were trying to revive her.
‘She’s going to be all right, though?’ Elise said.
‘We are doing everything possible,’ the clerk said.
‘My daughter,’ Janet said, ‘she’s taken the same drug. Would it be possible to have someone check her out?’
‘Any symptoms at the moment?’
‘Just dizzy,’ Elise said, ‘and I’ve got a headache.’
‘Fill this in with your details.’ She passed them a form.
Janet helped Elise complete the form and Janet returned it, then she got Elise a drink of water from the fountain and stepped outside to call Vivien. It was tempting to wait for more news, better news, but Janet knew that they would be absolutely desperate for every morsel of information. It would be cowardly not to ring her now and tell her.
Vivien must have had the phone in her hand, she answered immediately. ‘Janet?’
‘We’re at the hospital,’ Janet said. ‘Olivia is in resuscitation.’
‘Oh God.’
‘We haven’t seen her yet, but she’s young, she’s strong.’
‘Yes,’ Vivien said.
Janet felt her eyes prick. She sniffed. ‘I’ll ring you as soon as we know anything else.’
‘Thank you.’
Elise kept nodding off, reminding Janet of when she was a little girl and would fall asleep at the dinner table or in the shopping trolley. Elise complained she was hot but when Janet felt her she was clammy. She made her drink more water, wondering whether they should ask again about seeing a doctor.
Janet rang Ade, speaking with a calmness that belied her true state. Telling him the minimum – not that there was much more to tell.
‘Good God, shall I come down?’ he said.
‘No, stay with Taisie. I’ll ring you when we know what’s happening.’
‘What the hell was she doing taking drugs?’ he said. ‘She’s fifteen.’
‘Not now,’ Janet said.
‘Do you need me to do anything?’
‘No, thanks, we’ll see you later.’
Elise’s name was called and Janet went with her. The triage nurse took her pulse, blood pressure and temperature and listened to her heart. She made a note of the circumstances.
‘Your pulse is quite high and your temperature too but I don’t think we need to give you anything at the moment. Something like this, we’ve no idea what’s in it so we don’t have any antidotes and we don’t know if other drugs will create an adverse reaction. So, plenty of fluids and don’t go to sleep. You are staying here?’
‘Yes,’ Janet answered.
‘If there’s any sudden change, let someone know,’ the nurse said.
Janet sat with Elise, bone weary, stomach fizzing with acid. New casualties arrived, those with minor ailments waited. Some stepped outside for a cigarette, ignoring all the signs forbidding smoking anywhere near the building. Janet fleetingly wished she smoked, something to break the tension of waiting, a salve for the stress.
Dark-haired and fine-featured, Olivia was Elise’s firm friend, had been for years. She was a gymnast, would challenge Taisie, the sportier of Janet’s girls, to cartwheel competitions on the rare occasions when Elise
let Taisie tag along with them.
An ambulance pulled in and there was a rush of activity. She heard someone say RTA. A road traffic accident. Someone else’s world suddenly brought to a halt by a twist of fate.
This time last year, near enough, Janet had been waiting for news of her mother, who was undergoing emergency surgery. But it had all turned out OK, Dorothy was fit and well again now.
It was another hour before someone came to Janet, asked her to come through to a room along the corridor. Elise grasped her hand, stayed close.
A middle-aged, softly spoken man with shiny brown eyes the exact shade of Maltesers greeted them, and invited them to sit.
‘When Olivia arrived at the hospital she was suffering from serious heart failure. We attempted to revive her using emergency procedures, but I am afraid there were complications.’
Elise yelped, letting go of Janet and covering her face with her hands. Janet pulled her close, held her with one arm around her back and one hand stroking her hair.
‘I am very, very sorry but …’
Janet had said the words herself, dozens of times, so sorry, so very sorry to tell you, to tell you, dead, died, your wife, sister, friend, son, mother, brother, daughter, so sorry. In living rooms and kitchens and hallways and workplaces.
Janet’s vision blackened and she felt a fist of shock clutch at her own heart as he said, ‘… I have to tell you that Olivia died as a result of the problems with her heart. There was nothing else we could do.’
Elise began to sob, her face pressed into Janet’s chest, the vibrations travelling through Janet’s body.
‘Her parents?’ Janet said, almost a whisper.
‘They will be informed as soon as they arrive. I am sorry,’ the doctor repeated, ‘please take as long as you like in here. I will put a sign on the door so you will not be disturbed.’
Janet closed her eyes. She heard the clunk of the door as he closed it. She felt the heat of Elise’s tears, the way her body trembled, listened to her cries, raw, guttural sounds that tore at Janet’s heart.
It was a loss of innocence for Elise, Janet knew. One of those moments when the world slips and everything you understand, all you are, changes. Leaving you older, wiser, tainted, and less open, less trusting. The enormity of what had happened kept hitting Janet afresh. She was no stranger to sudden death, it was the staple of her work, but the fact of Olivia dead, so young, such a random thing, the thought of Elise’s future unravelling without her best friend, of that absence going on and on for ever, seemed unreal and ridiculous.
Ruthless (Cath Staincliffe) Page 10
