by K. L. Slater
Joan looked over and studied Chloe through narrowed eyes, but Ray pulled the car keys from his pocket and handed them to her. ‘I’ve parked just around the back of the station, on Hudson Road. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
‘Thanks, Dad. Won’t be long.’
Chloe stepped into the corridor and breathed a sigh of relief at finally getting away from the enquiring eyes of her mother. She swallowed hard, battling the feeling of nausea that rose in her throat, then walked briskly through the security door and across the foyer without looking at the receptionist. DI Neary had said they must sign in and out of the premises, but she didn’t care about their stupid protocols. She had more important things to worry about.
There was a couple in reception dressed in grubby tracksuits and whispering to each other behind their hands. She swept by them with ill-disguised disdain.
This morning when she’d woken, she had a life, and now… now it felt as though the sky was about three inches from falling in on her head. She just needed to get away from this place. That would surely help.
Outside, she dragged in air like a drowning woman. Once she stopped feeling sick, she pulled out her phone and sent a text. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t, but now she felt like she had no choice.
Walking around the back of the station, she found Ray’s dark blue Toyota. She adjusted the driver’s seat to accommodate her shorter legs and sat for a few moments before starting the engine. She could detect a very faint smell of smoke inside the car. Seemed like her father was up to his old smoking tricks, despite Joan demanding he give up his twenty-a-day habit following last year’s health scare when he’d had breathing problems after a bad cold.
Smokers didn’t seem to realise that to a non-smoker, even one cigarette was pervasive. Its odour lodged itself almost instantly in soft furnishings and clothing, lingering there for hours.
Chloe gave a sardonic smile. Her father’s secret was safe with her. After all, they could all hang each other with everything else they knew.
Thirty-One
‘Thanks for agreeing to see me, Juliet. I know this must be a very difficult time for you,’ Dana said when the two women sat down in Neary’s small office. She chose one of the comfy upholstered chairs rather than the detective’s rather intimidating leather swivel chair behind his desk.
‘Thank you for suggesting it,’ Juliet replied. ‘If I don’t talk to someone about Maddy soon, I think I’ll implode. Tom’s still not back yet, so it’s the ideal time.’
Dana nodded and set down her notepad and pen on the small table to her side.
‘I’ve asked you in here because although Maddy has confessed to hurting Bessie, both DI Neary and I are keen to explore this a little further before events run away with us.’
Dana had thought long and hard about how to approach the session with Juliet. She could hardly say that both she and Conor Neary were of the impression that something didn’t feel right about the whole thing, or that she suspected there were issues within the family that might have a bearing on matters.
‘I’m so grateful.’ Juliet let out a long breath. ‘Everyone else seems to be quite happy to accept a ten-year-old’s accusation and then Maddy’s hasty admission and run with it. I know she didn’t hurt that old lady, Dana. I just know it, and yet I feel like everyone, my parents and my sister, are more than willing to accept the possibility.’
Dana didn’t correct Juliet when she used the word ‘hurt’ instead of ‘kill’. She could see it was simply a coping tool for her. Juliet was working hard to control her facial expressions, but her fidgeting hands and grey skin told a different story altogether.
Dana wanted to be completely transparent with her. Juliet deserved that much at least.
‘You’re probably wondering what I want to talk to you about.’
Juliet gave a faint nod.
‘I thought this might be a good time to take pause for a therapy session, as you agreed. You see, it’s my experience that often when children commit crime – and I just want to point out that despite her apparent confession, I’m not saying that Maddy has done so – the most useful clues in uncovering the truth often come not from an external source, but from within the family unit itself.’
‘Okaaay.’ Juliet lengthened the word cautiously.
‘I’ve only met your family briefly, but the dynamics within it are… interesting. I’m keen to find out a little about your own childhood and upbringing. It might help me approach Maddy from a better position of understanding. I’ll then be able to offer her more support.’
‘I see.’ Juliet sat up a little straighter and pressed her lips together. ‘Well, I can’t say I enjoy speaking about my childhood. It wasn’t the best time, if I’m honest.’
Dana noted the new pinched look that had appeared on Juliet’s face, the way her hands had gravitated together and locked tightly in front of her stomach like an immovable barrier.
‘No rush, we can take it as slowly as you want to.’ She imagined Neary objecting to her relaxed approach, given his pressing timeline. ‘If you’re comfortable doing so, I’d like to continue.’ She eyed her notepad but left it where it was. ‘Rest assured our chat will be subject to the same confidentiality as an ordinary private therapy session unrelated to this case.’
When Juliet said she was happy to continue, Dana made a start.
‘Why don’t you tell me a little bit about your childhood? I’m interested in what life was like at home for you.’
Juliet thought for a moment.
‘I mean, it was OK. Mum likes to say it was a lot better than some kids have, and she’s right. We lived in the village in a decent, clean house with a garden, same one Mum and Dad still live in now. We were well fed, we had new clothes and shoes when we needed them. Nothing really to complain about.’
Dana gave her an encouraging nod, but silently dissected the language she’d chosen to use. Decent, clean, well fed… No mention of happiness, love or closeness. Given the opportunity to speak about anything at all, Juliet had chosen to outline only the basic needs that her parents had provided. She’d made no reference to Chloe, her sister; to shared happy family times, or to feeling loved.
Juliet was silent for a few moments, as though she expected to be asked another question. But Dana did not speak. Before long, Juliet began talking again.
‘Dad worked in the same place for thirty years, a small engineering factory that made injection-moulded packaging. Mum was a nurse when she met Dad and dropped to part time, but she gave it up in the end because she found it too stressful to cope with when her anxiety became worse.’
‘So when your mum finally gave up work, she was at home?’ Dana asked.
‘She was home… but not always present.’ Juliet allowed herself a sad little smile. ‘For as long as I can remember, she’s suffered from bad anxiety. That’s why she gave up nursing in the first place, but being at home didn’t solve it. If anything, having more time to dwell on stuff made it worse.’
‘And how did that show itself, to you and your sister, I mean, as children? How did you know your mum was feeling bad?’
‘Well, on her worst days, she couldn’t even get out of bed. I’d do what I could to keep things running in the house, but Dad worked long hours at the factory and… it wasn’t always easy.’
Dana had been involved with many families over the years where a parent was incapacitated through illness, depression and anxiety, or sometimes from being an addict of one type or another. Often the kids would take the full hit, be required to act like adults and assume responsibilities way beyond their years. She wondered if life had been like that for Juliet and Chloe growing up in the Voce household.
‘Chloe is older than you; did she help you around the house when your mum took to her bed?’
‘Not really.’ Juliet chewed on her lip. ‘I mean, she struggled to deal with Mum’s episodes. Chloe’s kind of sensitive, and if too much pressure is put on her, she spirals down very quickly. Mum’s alway
s said she’s like her in that respect.’
‘And you didn’t mind taking on adult duties like that? It didn’t affect your friendships or your social life?’
Juliet hesitated. ‘I never really thought about it; I just got on with it. Someone had to do it, and it wasn’t Mum’s fault. I’d just turn invitations down without thinking.’
‘There were just the two of you? No other siblings?’
Juliet coughed. She crossed her legs and then uncrossed them again.
‘I was the middle child. Chloe’s two years older than me, and then… We did have a much younger brother, Corey.’ She took a breath. ‘But there was a tragedy in the family when I was thirteen. It was a terrible time for all of us. I don’t… I can’t really talk about it.’
There was a sudden marked change in Juliet’s demeanour. Her darting eyes settled on Dana’s face. The colour rose in her cheeks a little and her fingers unlocked, balling into soft fists on her thighs.
Dana recognised the signs. Juliet was challenging her to ask something… possibly to accuse her of something? She wasn’t sure, but it was significant, showing that unresolved issues still loomed large in Juliet’s psyche.
Again, though, Dana remained silent.
‘Things were never the same after Corey. Everything changed.’ Juliet’s eyes grew dull. ‘Mum got worse. Dad had an accident at work and lost a finger when his hand became trapped inside a machine at the factory. They made him redundant and he couldn’t get another job. He’d travel up to Scotland two or three times a year for a couple of days to do labouring jobs for a guy he used to work with but that was it. Chloe ran away and they had to call the police out to find her.’ Juliet sighed. ‘It was like our world fell apart in lots of different ways… and it was all my fault.’
‘Your fault? Is that what your family told you?’
‘Not in so many words, but… well, it happened because of me, because I failed to take care of my brother. So it was my fault.’
‘It was a long time ago now, and yet it seems to me you still haven’t forgiven yourself.’
‘I never will. I’ve tried all my life to make amends, but I never feel any closer to getting there. You can’t make amends for something when it’s so terrible.’
No redemption. Another value that the young Juliet had picked up from somewhere.
Dana allowed a pause before speaking.
‘It was probably hard on everyone.’
Juliet nodded. ‘Mum took it worst. She couldn’t bear to look at me for months. Corey and I had exactly the same colour eyes, you see.’ She stared into the middle distance, remembering.
‘Can you tell me about your brother?’ Dana asked gently. ‘What happened?’
Juliet took a breath and looked at Dana again.
‘I’d like to leave it there for today, if that’s OK.’
Thirty-Two
2003
Juliet froze above the rocky ledge. She felt rooted to the spot, couldn’t scream, cry for help. All she could do was stare at the crumpled figure of her brother.
None of it seemed real. It felt as though she’d been drugged, like she was moving and thinking in slow motion. This couldn’t really be happening, could it?
‘Juliet?’
The familiar voice snapped her out of her trance-like state. She turned and saw Chloe waving at her in slow motion from the bottom of the grassy side of the hill, away from the rocks. She watched as her sister started to climb towards her. She felt dizzy, as if she’d been spinning around and around and had just stopped still in the middle of it.
She forced herself to peer back over the side of the hill. She’d have to get down there somehow. Corey might be OK, just dazed. It was possible, if he’d managed to avoid the rocks on the way down.
Last month, a St John Ambulance team had been into their school and demonstrated how to check if someone was breathing, how to position them correctly and administer the kiss of life. Juliet had dissolved into giggles when Beverley Jones had said she would try it out on the school heartthrob, Danny Boreham, at break. How she wished she’d paid more attention now.
She took two or three crab-like steps down the uneven slope.
‘Don’t do it!’ Chloe quipped a little breathlessly as she clambered up the final steep grassy brow and collapsed in a dramatic heap at the top. ‘Seriously, Jules, get back up here, that drop is lethal.’
Juliet, feeling out of kilter, dropped her hands to the floor and clambered back up on all fours.
‘I wanted to make sure you were OK,’ Chloe said. ‘We might just make the start of Grange Hill if we get off home now.’
Juliet was still trying to catch her breath, and couldn’t speak.
‘Why aren’t you saying anything? Where’s Corey?’ Chloe looked around, frowning. ‘You haven’t let him wander off on his own to make a den, have you?’
Juliet opened her mouth but still couldn’t summon words that would convey the horror that lay directly behind where she was standing. She lifted her hand towards Chloe.
‘What’s wrong? Why are you…’ Chloe suddenly seemed to register her grey complexion, the look of pure dread on her face. She rushed over to her. ‘Jules, what’s happened? Where’s Corey?’
Juliet pointed to the drop. ‘I must have fallen asleep,’ she whispered. ‘I… I can’t remember anything after getting up here.’
Chloe dashed to her side and peered down the steep drop.
‘Shit! Oh no.’ She sat down and swung herself over the edge. ‘Wait here.’
‘Chloe, no!’ Juliet cried. ‘There’s no sense in you injuring yourself too. We should just get help.’
‘You go and get someone. Hurry up. I’ll be fine.’
But she couldn’t do that. If Chloe ended up hurt too, Juliet would never forgive herself. No, she was better staying put and helping as much as she could.
She watched as Chloe expertly descended the hillside, clinging on to tough clumps of fescue grass and testing protruding rocks and clumps of earth before committing her weight to each step.
She’d always been sportier than Juliet, always had a natural affinity with movement, and her gymnastics kept her supple. If only Juliet had accepted her offer to come up here with them in the first place.
She could hear Chloe grunting and panting with the exertion of the treacherous descent. She felt so useless, so stupid. Her head was clearing now, and it was all becoming horribly real.
Chloe passed easily over the lethal jagged edges of the large slate-coloured rocks that jutted out at regular intervals. Finally she reached the grassy ledge underneath the rock where Corey had come to a natural stop.
‘Is he OK?’ Juliet called down, her voice shrill and desperate. ‘Is he breathing?’
Chloe looked up, her expression blank. Juliet swallowed down the bilious feeling that rose quickly from her chest.
‘Run to the nearest house, Jules,’ Chloe called urgently. ‘Ask them to call an ambulance, and then ring Dad and tell him what’s happened.’
Thirty-Three
The village
Out on the side street, Chloe started Ray’s car, opening the window a touch and checking in her mirror before steering the Toyota out onto the road.
Her armpits were damp and her heart was racing. She’d imagined every possible nightmare scenario over the last month, but soon the waiting would be over. A sort of acceptance of the inevitable had began to settle over her like a layer of thick, cloying dust.
She’d seen Juliet popping her antidepressants, ever eager to keep herself in the nice, safe medicated bubble she existed in. Not for her the grim side of life; she’d surrounded herself with her loving husband and an interfering best friend, both keeping watch over her like a couple of Rottweilers, looking out for anyone who might upset her.
Juliet had been living in a fantasy world that was about to well and truly crash down around her ears. Around all of their ears.
And there was even worse to come.
Everything Chloe had t
ried so hard to keep hidden was stirring in her guts now like a coiled eel. They would not be quietened any longer.
Regardless of the terrible timing, she knew she had to tell her sister. She had no choice. It was too late to make amends, and in some ways, she couldn’t wait to bring everything out into the open. She was so tired of wrestling with the shame and deceit.
On a whim, she took a sharp left turn at the Badger Box pub at the bottom of Derby Road and drove up Forest Road so she’d pass Juliet and Tom’s place.
She could see the motley crowd of people spilling out across the pavement and into the road way before she even got close to the house. She couldn’t slow down for fear of drawing attention to herself. The car was familiar around these parts, after all. Ray had owned it for five years or more, and she’d already spotted a couple of villagers her parents knew well.
The reporters and photographers stood apart from the locals, and Chloe was shocked at the sheer volume of people. She’d seen from the online headlines and local press that the story was swiftly drawing attention, but it hadn’t even been a day yet and there were some serious players here. She saw flashes of the colourful logos of Sky News and the Daily Mail.
Had they already found out about Maddy’s admission?
A single policeman stood outside the front door of the house, keeping a watchful eye on the fractious group of villagers milling around next to the press.
In the seconds it took to pass the property, Chloe took in the graffiti daubed on the garage and the ugly mood of the onlookers. Their sneering faces, the movement of their mouths spitting out unfounded opinions like rotten morsels they couldn’t bear to chew on any longer.
As one woman turned and stepped away from the wooden fence, Chloe caught sight of a home-made banner attached there, the words JUSTICE FOR BESSIE WILFORD daubed in thick black letters on a torn piece of grubby white sheeting.
