by Sanjida Kay
‘Thanks for doing this,’ said Laura, wondering even as she said it if she should tell Jacob to go home.
Jacob wasn’t a malicious person; he wouldn’t have calculated the effect of dressing like a soldier on Levi, she thought. As the other parents started to arrive, a few of them looked antagonistically at her and somewhat apprehensively at Jacob. To stop herself feeling even more awkward, she described Levi to him. Jacob stared fixedly at the school as she spoke and bounced on his toes. She started to feel as if she might be sick.
Would it be better if Levi was first? What if Autumn came out of school before him?
She’d have to go to her straight away and then maybe she’d miss Levi, or miss pointing him out to Jacob. But she couldn’t risk Autumn thinking she was going to be late.
She was about to say, apologetically, that she’d have to go inside the school gates to wait for Autumn and that they should leave it, when Jacob suddenly said, ‘There he is.’ He turned to her. ‘Am I right?’
She peered between the shrubs growing around the edge of the wire mesh and the low stone wall that surrounded the school yard. Levi, blazer undone, laughing, was crossing the playground with his friends. She nodded.
‘Good description,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘Go. I know you need to meet Autumn. I can take care of myself.’
Keen as she was to reach Autumn, she left him reluctantly. The traffic was bad and she had to wait what seemed like an age for the lights to change before she could reach the other side. She entered the playground as Levi came out. He looked coolly at her and spat on the pavement, just missing her shoes. Laura felt her heart beat faster. She hurried uphill towards the school.
Autumn emerged. Her shorn hair, hacked into an uneven and old-fashioned cut, made her pale face appear gaunt. Her eyes, as they flickered across the playground, had a hunted expression and she walked with a quick step, her shoulders hunched. She looked like a refugee.
‘Jacob’s here,’ she said to Autumn when she reached her. ‘Come on.’
She took the girl’s satchel and tried to take her hand, but Autumn pulled away. She trailed sullenly after her mother.
‘How was school?’ Laura asked over her shoulder.
Autumn, as if sensing that Laura was only partly paying attention to her, said nothing.
‘Autumn, I asked you a question.’
‘Mrs Sibson wanted to know who cut my hair,’ muttered Autumn.
Laura stopped walking. ‘And what did you tell her?’
Autumn shrugged and scuffed the toe of her shoe on the pavement. ‘I told her you did but I’m going to a proper hairdresser tomorrow to fix it.’
‘Oh, love, why didn’t you tell her who really did it?’
Autumn walked on, ignoring her. After a moment’s hesitation, Laura followed, wondering how much worse the Social Services situation was going to be, now that Mrs Sibson thought she’d bruised her daughter’s arm and hacked off her hair. They reached the main road. Jacob, who had been leaning against a wall, watching Levi, pushed himself upright and started to follow the boy. Laura, a few metres behind and on the opposite side of the road, hurried after them.
‘Where are we going?’ asked Autumn. When Laura didn’t answer her, Autumn said, ‘We’re walking the wrong way.’
Levi had passed the turn for Briar Lane and now only had two other boys for company. He sauntered along, his hands in his pockets. Jacob, who was going slowly for him, was quickly catching up.
‘What’s happening, Mum?’ asked Autumn.
‘Shush,’ said Laura. ‘Let’s just keep going.’
She wondered whether she should take Autumn home as fast as possible. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jacob. She didn’t think he would touch the boy. Nor did she think he would back out and not speak to him. So why was she following him? Was it morbid curiosity? No, she thought. She needed to know that whatever Jacob said to Levi would work – and then she would be able to relax knowing that the boy would finally stay away from her daughter.
She became aware that Autumn was no longer with her. She spun around. Autumn was standing in the middle of the pavement. There were tears in her eyes and she looked furious. It reminded Laura of when Autumn had been a toddler: there was that same anger and despair at what felt like a lack of control for most of a small child’s life. Only this time her daughter was older and could manipulate events much more effectively. She hurried back.
‘Jacob is going to speak to Levi,’ she said quietly. ‘I want this to end. I want him to stay away from you.’
They both turned back. Diagonally opposite, interrupted by the cars speeding past, they could see Jacob leaning over Levi. Jacob, for all that he was lean and wiry, was a threatening figure, a good several inches taller and broader. Levi seemed to have diminished in his presence. Laura became acutely aware of what he was: a boy, with ink stains on his hands, his trousers ever so slightly too short, a grass stain on his sock, a streak of mud on one trainer.
The other kids had shrunk back. She couldn’t hear what Jacob was saying. The cars going past were loud and Jacob was speaking quietly. Though he was uncomfortably close to the lad, he didn’t touch him. Laura wasn’t sure whether it was the uniform or Jacob himself, but something violent shivered in the air.
For the first time it struck her forcefully that Jacob had killed a man, quite possibly many men, maybe even women and children. Jacob’s role had literally been one where he was required to kill and maim other human beings. He had signed up to be a marine knowing that he would have to take lives and watch men die.
She should stop him, she realized. With a dreadful certainty, she knew she should go over there right now. It had been a mistake to ask Jacob to speak to the boy. She looked from side to side but the cars were coming so fast and there wasn’t a gap in the traffic. And then Levi glanced over and saw her and Autumn watching. For a moment she could see the fear in his face; the whites of his eyes shone vividly, his nostrils flared. He was holding himself unnaturally rigid. A muscle in his jaw jumped. Laura felt a rush of shame, hot and intense. She flushed, a painful burn that spread across her cheeks, down her neck, prickled in her ears. She could see the comprehension dawn in Levi’s face.
There was a scraping sound as Autumn’s boots slid on the Tarmac and then she was running, running as hard and as fast as she could, her red coat flying out behind her, running away from Laura.
Laura caught up with Autumn at the corner of Wolferton Place but only because her daughter was now standing staring down the street. Laura stopped to see why. Outside their house were two police officers.
‘Are they waiting for you?’ asked Autumn, as Laura rested her hands on the child’s shoulders.
One of the officers looked up and the other noticed and turned to face them too.
‘I’m afraid they might be,’ said Laura.
She wasn’t sure if the police had been given a description of her, or if she simply looked guilty, but they both started to walk purposefully towards her and Autumn.
‘Why are they here?’ asked Autumn. ‘Is it about Levi?’
‘I expect so. Aaron has reported me to the police. It’s not your fault, Autumn,’ she murmured, taking the child’s hand.
‘Will you have to go to prison?’
The two officers reached them in time to overhear her.
‘Mrs Wild?’ asked one officer.
Laura shook her head. ‘That’s my daughter’s name. I’m Laura Baron-Cohen.’
‘Do you know why we’re here?’
The officer was in his early fifties, jowly, with grey hair, his stomach stretching the fabric of his shirt. In contrast, the other officer looked as if he was barely in his twenties, with short, dark hair, artfully spiked and ruffled, pronounced cheekbones and pale skin. He was small and slight and could have been in a boy band.
Laura nodded and the officer continued.
‘I’m Police Constable John Willow and this is PC Alan James. We are here to inform you that Mr Aaron Jablonski has reported you for causing actual bodily harm to his son, Levi Jablonski. It is alleged that you knocked the victim to the ground and caused him to cut his face and sustain a blow to his head. We assume that you will not be leaving the country for the foreseeable future so there is nothing that you need to do at this moment in time. We have begun interviewing the witnesses; once we have all their statements, you will then be arrested. At that point it would be advisable to bring a solicitor to the station with you. Do you understand?’
Laura nodded. Autumn started to cry.
‘I don’t want you to go to prison,’ she said.
‘Let’s hope it won’t come to that, eh?’ said the younger officer, crouching down so that he was at eye level with her and smiling.
‘This is Autumn Wild, I take it?’ said PC Willow. ‘We will need to take her statement too, with an adult present. You will be unable to attend her interview. Perhaps your husband can accompany her.’
Laura shook her head. ‘We’re divorced.’
‘I suggest you decide now who will be present. Her grandmother? Someone she knows and trusts.’
He was trying to be kind. Laura walked unsteadily past the two officers. It was only once she was inside the house, and had locked the front door behind her, that she realized she hadn’t asked PC Willow how long it would take to gather statements from the six boys who’d seen her push Levi.
Wednesday 7 November
AUTUMN
This morning she’d held the phone in her hand on the way to school. It was shiny and smooth and reassuring. It was like a talisman to ward off any more comments about her hair. Her mum had shown her how to switch her new phone to silent. She’d put her mum’s mobile, their landline and Jacob’s number into Favourites so Autumn could call her mum or Jacob just by pressing one button.
When she reached school she put it in her trouser pocket so it would be with her all the time. She thought no one else knew about it but at break-time, Tilly said to her, ‘Can you get Facebook on your new mobile?’
Autumn had been too shy to speak. You weren’t meant to use phones at school. But she was overwhelmingly grateful – Tilly wanted to talk to her again! She was smiling. Tilly must believe that she hadn’t copied her work after all.
Tilly held out her hand and Autumn reluctantly passed her the phone. The girl swiped the screen and tapped it a few times, pushing her hair out of her eyes with her thumb. Smirking, she handed the mobile back.
On the screen was Facebook. It showed a picture of Autumn. She was looking like a deer they’d startled one night on the way home from a trip to Epsom Forest: caught in the glare of the headlights, it had flared its nostrils, its eyes wide and retinal-blue. Autumn couldn’t understand it. She hadn’t made a Facebook page for herself. She’d never seen the picture before. And then she read the title. It said: We Hate Autumn.
Underneath it was the newsfeed. There were already several status updates. Autumn started reading them and blushed. She looked up at Tilly in confusion. Tilly smiled sweetly and tossed her hair over her shoulder. The words became jumbled up in her head. There were so many of them: teeth, dumb, ugly, stupid, bitch, hate, name, emo, hate, hate…
She switched the phone off and put it in her pocket. Her throat had grown dry and she could hardly swallow. Her face was burning. Her classmates all knew. They were all in on this. They were all writing on the Facebook page.
At lunchtime she went into the toilets by herself. The page was still on her mobile but there were many more messages now. She turned it off and put it back in her pocket. She felt the mobile burning against her leg, churning out more vile words: copy, stole, thick, stuck-up, thief, hate, whore, hate, bitch, hate. Die.
She stayed in the toilets until lunch was over and then crept slowly out, as if her whole body ached, checking the corridor to see if anyone was watching.
In the afternoon lessons she couldn’t concentrate and Mrs Sibson told her off three times. Her voice was a nasty teacher’s voice, but her expression didn’t match. She looked worried. The mobile buzzed against her thigh. She thought it was more messages, pouring into Facebook. But it wasn’t. She checked at afternoon break.
There were three of them. There was no number and no name.
The first text said, Everyone hates you, Autumn Wild.
The second said, Fuck off back to London.
The final one said, Go kill yourself.
LAURA
Laura hadn’t been able to concentrate on her lectures today. She’d left the university even earlier than last week to make sure that no matter what the traffic was like, she wouldn’t be late. Autumn, though, was one of the last children to leave the school. Laura had been on the point of going inside to search for her when she came running out across the empty playground.
Laura felt her chest tighten. It was the shock of seeing her look like a child from the seventies, instead of the image she carried of her daughter: laughing, her grey eyes sparkling, her plaits tumbling down her back. Laura wasn’t sure the hairdresser was going to be able to do much with her hair.
Just before Autumn reached her, the child stopped. She was staring straight ahead with a fixed expression. She reached out and seized her mother’s hand.
‘What is it, sweetheart?’
Autumn didn’t reply. Laura looked behind her to see what she was staring at. Blocking the entrance to the school gates was a man. He was dressed in a long, black coat. As they paused, he lifted his head and stared at them. She couldn’t see his eyes but a thin bead of light from the street lamp ran down his cheek, curved under the bone. His jaw was clenched tight. Laura stiffened and felt her pulse race, the hand holding Autumn’s grow slippery with sweat.
Nothing can happen to us here; the head and some of the teachers are still in the school, cars are going past, there are people all around.
She gripped Autumn’s hand tighter and strode forward to meet Aaron.
‘How dare you?’ he shouted as they approached, immediately on the offensive.
Autumn half hid behind her mother.
‘You are fucking unbelievable. You hired a soldier to beat Levi up!’
‘I did not,’ said Laura. ‘He is not a soldier and I did not…’
‘A fucking Marine! You paid a Marine to assault my boy!’
‘He isn’t… I didn’t…’
Laura’s bravado disintegrated now that he was only a few feet from her, so much taller, leaner and more threatening than she remembered him from their evening together. The whites of his eyes glistened and the tiny charm angled on his wrist bone flashed as he spoke. She felt queasy as she remembered how she’d almost fallen for him the evening he had come to her house and softly spoken to her about a planet born from the sun’s remains. How close they had been to each other in the confined space of her office. What might have happened if… She pushed the thought away.
‘I’ve reported you to the police for the original assault. I’m considering giving them a further statement about your latest crime. I can only tell you one last time: stay away from my son.’
He turned and flung open the door of his car, illegally parked facing the wrong way on the zigzag lines outside the school, and drove away with a screech of tyres.
Laura was trembling. Did that mean, she thought, that there was a chance, even the slightest of chances, that he was not going to go to the police about Jacob speaking to Levi? Jacob would back her up; he was innocent, after all. But it would be awkward and embarrassing for both of them if Aaron did report her. And it would make the police case against her even more damning. It looked as if he was going to hold this as a threat over her for now.
Autumn let go of her hand and Laura felt her palm fill with cold air as if an icy ball had been pushed into her skin.
‘L
evi had a black eye today,’ she said quietly.
‘You don’t seriously think Jacob did it, do you?’ Laura said quickly. ‘We were there, remember? He must have got into a fight with one of the other boys.’
‘But then I ran off. You followed me. You didn’t see Jacob leave.’
‘Jacob wouldn’t have touched him, let alone hurt him.’
‘You did,’ said Autumn.
Laura bit her lip. ‘Come on, we’re going to be late,’ she said, opening the car door.
The hairdresser’s was an expensive salon in Cotham, but it was the only one Laura could find at short notice. From the darkened street the windows glowed and were garlanded with strings of fairy lights. There were velvet sofas and a giant chandelier, sparkling with cut glass hanging above a semi-circular desk in the centre of the room. A white waxy orchid in a gold pot stood next to the till and against one wall was a tall, thin mahogany set of shelves with hair products in minimal and tasteful packaging.
She expected the hairdresser wouldn’t be able to do anything with Autumn’s hair. She felt guilty although she knew that was ridiculous – it was not as if she could have prevented a malicious boy from chopping Autumn’s plaits off at the roots. Autumn was still refusing to say that Levi had done it.
A young man led Autumn to a chair in front of a mirror and pulled another over for Laura. She assumed he was an assistant but, after he’d wrapped a gown around Autumn, he ran his hands through her hair a couple of times.
‘You have beautiful hair,’ he murmured, and Autumn almost smiled.
The man, who introduced himself as Sam, was thin and pale with floppy, dark hair in a rumpled quiff.
He nodded a couple of times and then looked at Autumn’s reflection. He had light-blue eyes with a dark ring around them and a lopsided smile.
