by Phil Earle
‘I thought you said he was on the way to school.’
‘He was.’
‘But that doesn’t make sense. Why would he leave you when he’d discovered something so important?’
‘Because he’d found out something else as well.’
‘What?’
I said nothing. My mouth was suddenly as hot as the embers in the hearth.
‘Whatever it is, you can say it. You know that.’
I had no idea where to start, but slowly it all came out. The problems with Donna in class. The way I pretended at parties and at school. She must have wondered where I was going until I got to Mr Hobson and how he’d been the only one I could trust, how he understood the way I felt. She didn’t move as I told her about the walk along the path. In fact, it wasn’t until I got to the kiss that she said anything at all.
‘Daisy, you do understand the importance of what you’re telling me, don’t you?’
I bristled momentarily. ‘Are you saying you don’t believe me?’
‘No, of course not. Why on earth would you lie about this? What I am saying is that this isn’t something I can keep to myself.’
I grabbed at her hand, squeezing the life out of it as I told her she couldn’t do that, that it wasn’t his fault, that I’d liked him, invited him down the path, given him all the signs he needed.
She shook her head firmly. ‘I don’t believe that, Daisy, and even if there was an attraction between you, he should have known better. For him there is no excuse. He is your teacher and an adult. You knew it was wrong as soon as he kissed you. He should have known enough to not even find himself in that position.’
I argued with her, pacing around the room as the panic grew, but she was having none of it. She repeated back what she had heard, that his actions were typical of an adult trying to groom a teenager. That he probably didn’t love films at all, that his mother was possibly even alive, that people like him looked for vulnerabilities and found ways to make you trust them before taking advantage.
I didn’t want to hear any of it, but my confession had unearthed new steel in Ade that left her implacable. She stood in front of me, holding my shoulders firmly as I tried to walk.
‘What you have told me has taken such courage, but unless we do something about it, then a lot of it will be in vain. Think about what he did, Daisy. Think about how he could be trying the same thing again, maybe with someone you know. You don’t want that to happen, do you?’
I shook my head, limbs draining of energy.
‘Then the bravest thing we can do is tell the police. They need to talk to this man and make sure that he can’t move on and do the same again.’
A huge raking sob left my lips before I could stop it, a mixture of fear and relief.
‘You must be so tired, my love. And you will be for a few days. But make no mistake, what you have just told me is incredible, and I promise that we will do everything we can to break all these thoughts down. They won’t rule you for long. I won’t let them.’
It didn’t matter that the fire was dying now. There was enough warmth in her words and embrace to stop me shivering. She stood, holding me for long enough for my body to finally relax, and for my mind to wonder if this was how a mother’s embrace really felt.
Chapter 44
I spent the next week feeling like I’d been turned inside out. Nothing made sense, every step I took was off balance, and for every minute I spent hiding in my room, I spent an hour in some office or other, whether it was at Bellfield or the police station.
Ade had been painfully true to her word, with the police arriving the morning after my admission, prepared but not fully ready to believe my story. For the first few hours they had me going over the full events time and again, the same questions, the same loaded comments, until I was convinced that they were trying to make me slip up. But as all I had to tell them was the truth, they seemed to leave a little disappointed.
It wasn’t easy going over it all again. I was still feeling raw from the night before, so to own up to my own stupidity again so quickly felt like I was being rubbed with sandpaper. It didn’t help that Ade was nowhere to be seen, leaving me with Bex, who’d explained that Ade had ‘other things to attend to’.
What other stuff? She’d told me she was going to sort everything out, only to scarper the next day. Bex supported me, reining the police in when they pushed too hard, but I missed Ade and the fact that she believed me so implicitly. I couldn’t help but wonder if Bex thought I’d played my part in what had gone on.
Once the initial interview was over, the police promised to pick up Hobson straight away, so I retreated to my room, forcing myself to plug back into the Walkman and my own words. I was desperate now, needed to be out of here so quickly that I’d do anything to speed the process along. And as Ade wasn’t about to talk to, this was the only option I had.
The week crawled along in the same way. I was buffeted from meeting to meeting, seeing new officers, new psychologists. Even Evelyn pitched up, the first time I’d seen her since she deposited me at Bellfield. Not that she was hugely engaged, more disappointed that I was with Bex and not Eric. I swear her lipstick faded as she clocked us.
There were results from the endless meetings – important ones. The police picked up Hobson quickly and questioned him for hours. He’d been suspended from school and they were researching his family details, whether his mum was alive or dead.
I couldn’t make up my mind what I wanted the answers to be. What was more difficult to accept? That he was a manipulator, or that I’d have to let go of my own feelings of guilt?
Bex was adamant, just as Ade had been, that it was all his fault, so I had to put my faith in them and wait it out.
I think this would’ve been bearable if the others at Bellfield hadn’t worked out what was going on. Community meetings became torture, a daily opportunity for Naomi to dig away, telling whoever would listen that they had a right to know what was going on. At least in the meeting she did it in an articulate way; for the other twenty-three and a quarter hours she was in my face and behind my back. There were taunts and insinuations that I’d ‘killed again’, notes shoved under my door asking me where the bodies were buried. She was grinding me down to the point where I considered telling everyone what I’d done. Keeping it secret didn’t seem so important any more.
Support came in an unlikely shape: the lumbering frame of Jimmy. He’d piped up for me in the community meeting that one time, but outside that session he’d been his normal distracted and elusive self. He was a proper Houdini who’d disappear for hours on end, which used to drive Eric to distraction, as he had to spend most of his shifts liaising with the police or combing the streets for him. I often thought Jimmy was playing him, because just as Eric was on the verge of panic Jimmy would materialize, phone clamped to his ear, eyes bulging with adrenalin or some other kind of high.
‘Where have you been, Jim?’ Eric would plead, but Jimmy’s answer was always the same. ‘Jammin’ with mates. No biggie, just jammin’.’
I asked Eric one day if he thought it was true. Not that Jimmy had friends outside of Bellfield, but whether the whole music thing was in any way real.
‘I used to worry about it when he first arrived, but not any more. Whether it’s true or not doesn’t matter for now. It’s important to him and it gives him security. Once he knows he’s safe here, he’ll let us in.’
There were occasions when I wanted to push Jimmy on it myself, but that didn’t seem fair. I did discover where he spent time during his disappearing acts, though: the laundry room in the basement. It was a grotty narrow space, even more non-descript than my room, the only decoration being half a dozen industrial washer/driers and a gallery of mould on the walls. Hardly the kind of place to linger, unless you were Jimmy.
I’d often find him there, backed up against the wall, eyes fixed as the clothes swirled round. It was like he was
watching the telly. His eyes never left the screen, even when I was loading the machine next to his. He was so mesmerized that I found myself sliding down the wall next to him, focusing on the porthole as it tossed my clothes around, an untidy rainbow of socks and Dad’s shirts. We sat there for a few minutes, until I found my breathing had slowed beyond its normal anxious patter. Was this what it offered him? A bit of peace? Each time I found him in there I sat next to him for a while, wondering if he knew I was even there.
It must have been on the fifth occasion that he finally spoke to me, when his machine reached the end of its cycle, breaking the spell.
‘Sweet,’ he whispered, stretching as I used to do when a film reached a satisfactory ending. ‘Can’t beat it, can you?’
I nodded, stretching my mouth into a confused smile.
‘I’m not surprised you like it too. First time I saw you I knew we were alike, me and you.’
‘That right?’ I asked.
‘Too right. You’ve got it, you see, just like I have.’
I had no idea what he was talking about. ‘Got what?’
His arms blurred as he formed this dramatic X shape in front of him.
‘The X-factor, mate, that something special. And that’s the problem, you feel me? That’s why the other two are gunning for you, just like they do me. Jealousy, mate, jealousy.’
He pushed himself to his feet in a long fluid movement, the veins in his arms pulsing with the effort.
‘I’ve seen it before. Seen what they do to people like us. It’s not pretty. Not pretty at all.’ He fixed me with his eyes, until I swear he was looking inside my head, at all the anxieties rattling round inside. ‘But don’t you worry about it. The only thing you need to know is that I’ve got your back. Remember that and everything will be sweet.’
As the words ended so did his gaze, his attention flicking back to his phone, the screen blank as always. ‘I’ve got to be somewhere. Take it easy. I’ll catch you later.’ And he strode towards the door, his fingers strumming an imaginary guitar at his side.
I didn’t know what to think or do after that. Part of me wanted to laugh, while in some ridiculous way I felt reassured and protected. It felt good, whatever it was, so in celebration I slid to the floor and let the washer give me some therapy, Jimmy style.
Chapter 45
The news was greeted with a mixed response. Naomi looked pleased, so Patrick followed suit. Susie seemed close to tears as ever, while Jimmy took it as his cue to text furiously.
I was confused, so asked the obvious question.
‘When you say show, what do you actually mean?’ These were the first words I’d uttered in a community meeting since Naomi had exposed me and my heart skipped at the potential to be ridiculed again.
‘It’s exactly what I say. A show.’ Bex grinned. ‘A chance for each of you to share a talent or passion for something. It can be anything you like, as long as it is in no way harmful to anyone else in the group.’ She fixed Naomi and Patrick for a second, making it clear she meant them.
‘In six weeks it will be Christmas and, while I know that brings up insecurities for you all, it’s important we try and celebrate. To acknowledge the strides you’ve made in the past year.’ Bex paused, before adding with a grin, ‘All carers will be sharing too, make no mistake.’
‘And can we team up as well, do something together?’ Naomi asked.
‘All five of you? That would be great.’
Naomi sucked her teeth and looked disdainfully around the room. ‘You’re kidding. I was talking about me and Paddy.’
‘Yep, that’s fine, as long as you stay within the boundaries set.’
‘So how long have we got to practise, then?’
‘Three weeks. The stage will be set up for 7 December, so fix that date in your heads. No excuses. Everyone has to share something.’
You couldn’t have written the script. It was almost malicious. 7 December: my birthday – the day I turned fifteen. Well, that ruled out my planned trip to the Bahamas straight away. Not that my birthday was ever a day to be celebrated, not with what it meant for Mum.
Dad had always tried to ignore the double meaning of the date, but every year, before we celebrated, he’d take some flowers to the tree he planted for her. I never objected to sharing his time. I didn’t feel like I could, after my part in it.
But now, in the light of my new positive attitude, I forced good thoughts in, telling myself it would take my mind off the negatives. At least it would if I could work out what to share with the others.
I’d hardly say there was a buzz after the announcement. The staff thought it was hilarious, while Naomi and Patrick huddled up conspiratorially, glancing every now and then in my direction. Susie in particular was beside herself at the potential for further humiliation.
‘What am I going to perform?’ she wailed.
I shrugged. ‘Can you dance or something?’
She pointed at her dumpy legs and frowned. ‘Do I look like Darcey pissing Bussell to you?’
There was no answer to that, and I was pleased to catch sight of Ade, gifting me an opportunity to leave before I got sucked in further.
It was the first time I’d seen her in six days and I’d missed her enough to be irritated by her absence. I knew this was a job and that she had to take holidays, but her timing stunk. She knew it too, lacing her arm around me and giving me a squeeze.
‘My friend,’ she whispered. ‘You must be angry with me, deserting you like I have.’
‘’S OK,’ I lied.
‘I don’t believe you for a second. I owe you an apology and an explanation, one of which I can give you today. You’ll have to wait for the other.’
She was talking in riddles again, which was my cue to spark up a rollie, as I knew it would hack her off.
‘Do you want to walk today?’
‘I’ve got class.’
‘There are things we need to talk about. No one will mind. I’ve already told them we are going.’
I peered out of the window. It wasn’t raining for once. The mist was hugging the grass instead, so I shrugged non-committally and went to grab my coat.
There was a spring to her step, another gear in her stride, and she was humming louder than normal. I hoped it was the things we had to discuss that were making her so happy.
‘So how are you feeling after everything that’s gone on?’
‘Confused.’ I wasn’t going to lie to her. ‘I’ve never been asked the same questions so many times.’
‘These things are never easy. What that man did to you was so premeditated and manipulative that the police have to make everything clear for your sake. So he can’t wriggle out of what he did.’
‘Either that or they plain don’t believe me.’
She shook her head adamantly. ‘You see, there you go again, blaming yourself. Have you stopped to think that the police might just believe you?’
‘Why should they? It’s my word against his.’
‘Not any more, it’s not. Because of what you told them, they’ve made real strides towards prosecuting him.’
I slowed down, not sure if I was ready to hear what she had to say.
‘The things he said about his mother … that she was dead? All lies.’
My head fizzed. I wanted to sit down but sucked on my fag instead, the nicotine adding to my head-rush.
‘She is a sixty-seven-year-old woman living in Derby. She is ill, has been for a long time, but she is very much alive.’
Ridiculous as it seemed, part of me was disappointed. How could he have done that? To have dreamed up his story on the spot like that, all to kiss me? The rest of me just felt angry at him, and at myself for believing him. I mean, how could I have been so gullible?
I felt Ade grip me firmly by the shoulders.
‘Hey! Stop that! I know what you’re doing, reproaching yourself instead o
f him. Did you just hear what I said? Well, let me tell you again. Thomas Hobson is an abusive manipulator, and the news about his mother spurred the police on. They have been in touch with the other schools he’s taught at. Other girls have come forward, with stories no different from yours. Like you, they blamed themselves, didn’t realize they were being played in exactly the same way. They were too scared or too trusting to speak out.’
I listened to her intently, trying desperately to make her words sink in.
‘What you admitted was brave. What you did helped these other girls, just as it helped you. This isn’t the end of it. The police still have so much work to do, but you must believe what I say.’ Her arms danced in front of her, mesmerizing me into listening. ‘You must see this now. This is more power, more fuel for your mind. Look at the facts. Him kissing you was not your fault. It was his actions that made your father jump in the car that day, not yours. The guilt should always live with him, not with you.’
My head lurched back to the sight of Hobson by my hospital bed. His creased clothes and face, eyes that were felt-tip red. I hoped it was guilt that made him look that way, and that it would never leave him.
Ade let go of me, but held me with her eyes.
‘This is a turning point, Daisy Houghton. You must use this information to prove that you are not the monster you claim to be. I have told you this before, on the night I met you. You are my lucky charm, don’t forget that.’
After touching my cheeks lightly with her hands she marched on, not giving me a chance to ask what on earth she meant.
We power-walked around the headland that day, a weird sense of adrenalin and euphoria moving us along. We talked more about the police’s discovery and what it meant, and how I should concentrate even harder on questioning the thoughts of guilt that came now, and batter them with logic, refusing them head space.
But for once we also talked of other things, things that didn’t relate to the state of my head or the scabs on my arms. None of it was important, but that was the blissful part of it. It was throwaway stuff, banter, and for once I felt my age, like there was nothing sticking to me or weighing me down.
