by Carla Kovach
A whoosh of adrenaline flushed through Gina and she felt a buzz from her stomach to her fingertips. Leah had been in Rodney Hackett’s cab. How else could her socks being on his bed be explained? Maybe the kids were innocent as Hackett had lied again. ‘Thank you. You’ve been really helpful. Is there anything else you’d like to add? Maybe we can talk more about how Leah seemed.’
‘No. My son told you everything he had to say yesterday so if you have nothing new to discuss, no evidence to share, that will be all.’
Gina wished the floor would swallow Mr Spalding up. She turned her attention back to Oscar. ‘If either of you think of anything else in the meantime, I’ll leave you with my card.’ Gina stood.
‘I’ll see you both out.’ Mr Spalding waved an arm and pointed to the door.
‘Thank you again, Oscar. You’ve been most helpful.’
The boy nervously nodded, his hair flopping back and forth as he did. His father glanced back and the boy sat back down while waiting to be told he could go. As Mr Spalding walked them back to the hall and out of the door, he smiled. ‘I hope that will be all. Have a good day.’
As Gina and Jacob stepped out, the door was already shut. ‘He couldn’t wait to get rid of us but that’s a positive ID on the socks. Another nail in Hackett’s coffin. I hope my suspicion about the kids being involved will be quelled. An arrest of Hackett and a confession would close that line of investigation and solve the case. We’re on a roll today. Oh, is that the time, we best hurry; I need to find out if Bernard is close to getting us those results. With those and the socks, we’ll be ready to nail Hackett.’
Gina popped the key in the ignition, firing the car up. ‘That whole interview didn’t feel right. Not one bit. From what his teacher said, he was disruptive and got into minor scuffles. It looks like he behaves in his father’s presence but people see the real Oscar when he’s out and about. He hides his true self well and I don’t like that.’ Gina almost shuddered knowing how well she’d hidden her true self for all these years. Not any more though. Someone knew everything.
Jacob popped a stick of gum in his mouth. ‘Agreed. Over polite with a plummy use of language. He’s putting an act on, but why?’
‘Hmm. Is he scared of his father or just laying it on thick to hide something?’
‘It’s looking like Hackett is our prime suspect though.’
‘Hmm.’ Gina nodded.
The smell of minty gum spread around the car as Jacob chewed. ‘Let’s go nail him.’
Twenty
When you leave the house as seldomly as I do, a trip to Tesco is exciting. It’s a reason to put some make-up on, to wear that perfume I save for special occasions that never materialise. This is a special occasion. Frank normally comes here alone, citing that my luggage is too much work for him. He hates taking me out in the car and today was no exception. As he pushed my wheelchair into the back of the van, he huffed and puffed and then managed to trap his finger somehow. Then it was my fault he hurt himself; me that fuelled his anger and frustration. I wonder if he really trapped his finger, I sometimes think he says things to make me feel bad. But I made it to Tesco and it feels epic. I never would have said that in the past. Shopping had been boring; a task to rush in order to hurry home. Not now. It’s an outing to be savoured. ‘Can we stop for coffee and cake while we’re here?’ It might just be my lucky day.
‘Who’d want to spend any more time in a supermarket than needed? Besides, I want to get back.’ He clenches his jaw as he wheels me down the tinned food aisle, then he places some beans into the basket on my lap.
‘What for?’ I lean back, bending my neck until it hurts but at least I caught sight of his face.
‘Look, I just do, now stop asking questions.’ He glances up the next aisle as if he’s worried. No one else is walking around so he hurries forward towards the tuna. The strip lights are bright and the sound of staff being called on the tannoy system is so loud it makes me jump slightly. This is life. It’s what I miss and crave so badly, and he wants to rush my enjoyment of feeling like I’m a part of society, not just something to be hidden in the house. ‘Damn, I forgot the tomatoes. Wait here.’ Before I know it, he’s gone leaving the basket on my lap so that I can’t move.
A woman leans over me, trying to reach for a four-pack of tuna. My brakes are on too and I’m squashed in by the basket. ‘Sorry, my husband has left me here. Forgot something as usual.’ I roll my eyes and smile, then something draws me to her face. I know her but I can’t think of her name. If I say something but I don’t use her name, I might come across as rude.
She smiles back and winces in thought. ‘Sandy. I knew I recognised you. It’s been a few years.’ Her smile drops a little as she looks at my wheelchair and then back at me. That’s what people do. They don’t see me anymore. They see a wheelchair. Don’t they know that I’m a living, breathing person with thoughts, opinions and desires? I’m more than what they see. Far more. Before this chair I had a job, I had hobbies. I helped at the food bank for a while but since the accident, I guess I alienated people. Depression took a tight hold and they stopped calling. Only I can turn this around and rebuild my life. Only I can get them to see me, not just the chair. Then it clicks. I remember her name – I think. ‘Lara?’ I’m sure it’s the girl I used to hang out with when I was a kid. Or was it Lana. I know I’m close.
‘Yes. Oh my goodness. We used to be so close. I can’t believe I haven’t seen you around for all these years but then again, I normally shop online. Coming here is a bit of a one-off.’
I smile, warming to her and the fond memories that I recall. She is a part of my past, a lovely part. We lost touch when she went to a different secondary school to me. Her light coppery hair falls in wisps over her well-structured neck and shoulders. She always did have perfect bone structure. ‘Would you like a coffee with me, in the café here? I’d love to catch up.’ I hope I’m not setting myself up for rejection here but I can’t let her go. She’s the first friendly face I’ve come across for ages and I need someone. I need people around me other than Frank. I need a friend who I can talk to and confide in.
She glances at her phone as if checking the time. ‘A coffee would have been lovely but I really have to get on.’
I tense up and the basket I’m balancing on my lap begins to rattle as I shake slightly. I want to cry.
‘But, I would love to speak to you again soon.’ She fishes in her bag and pulls out a card. ‘My phone number is on here. Call me soon. Maybe we can do something together.’ I take the card. Lara Blakely – interior designer. ‘It’s my new business.’ She smiles.
‘I will.’ My heart is racing. As soon as I have my phone I will call or text her. I know we can be good friends again. I push the card deep into my pocket, knowing that Frank wouldn’t really like me trying to arrange something with an old friend. I’d get the spiel about how anything I arranged would be all put on him as he would have to get me there but I’m past caring. I need people in my life and they’re not going to come to me while I sit in front of the television back at home. I’ll book an adapted taxi if I have to. Sod Frank.
‘I must go. I really would have loved to have a drink with you but my daughter’s waiting in the car. We knew the poor girl who was murdered in the woods on Saturday night and we have to get to the police station to give a statement. She was a good friend of Caro’s. So sad. Whoever killed that girl should die for what they did.’
A pang of guilt flashes through me. What I published for all to see on Twitter was unforgivable. I hope she didn’t see it. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss. We live on Oak Tree Walk, so we’ve had police everywhere for the past couple of days. Your poor daughter. She must be so upset.’
Lara paused. ‘I’m glad it wasn’t her. Sounds selfish, doesn’t it?’
‘Not at all. It’s natural to want to protect those we love. How old is she?’
‘Sixteen. She’s just finished her GCSEs.’
‘Wow, you have a sixteen-year-old daug
hter. That’s so lovely.’
‘I have a son too. He’s eight and can be a little terror when he wants to be.’ She titters a little. ‘How about you? Any children?’
I wanted a child more than anything but Frank never did. ‘No, not by choice. The time was never right and then my accident happened.’ He kept promising me that the right time would come. The right time would never come now. I’d already left it late in life and now, it really was too late. Besides, Frank never touched me anymore and I doubt he ever would again.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I was stupid and now I’m paying a hefty price.’ We pause but now I’ve started, I’m going to finish. ‘I jumped from a cliff into the sea on holiday and this happened. There’s a lesson to be learned. One to share with your kids.’ My eyes begin to well up. Talking to someone about what happened, other than Frank who no longer cared, was like a huge burden had been lifted.
‘I’m so sorry, Sandy.’
‘I’m getting used to it now. Anyway, I hope your daughter’s okay. Well not okay, how can someone feel okay when that has just happened to a friend.’ I think of Frank, the scratches and the fact that he did leave our house in the night and I swallow hard.
‘I think we’ll all feel better when they catch the bastard. I hope he dies.’ Lara gripped the tin of tuna like she was trying to strangle it and my heart began to bang in my chest as I thought about Frank and wondered if he knew more about the murdered girl.
I hear the sound of Frank’s heavy feet getting louder before he comes to a stop. ‘Right, let’s get this shopping done and get the hell out of here. Hello?’ He glances at Lara.
‘Hello.’
Frank didn’t have a way at putting people at ease. He stares, intensely. ‘I’m Sandy’s husband, Frank.’
They shake hands. ‘I’m Lara, Sandy and I went to primary school together. Anyway, I best get going.’
Lara smiles at me as she leaves for the tills. Frank’s gaze stays with her. As she disappears into the distance his brow furrows. A tear slides from the corner of my eye.
‘I guess you just gave her the woe-is-me sob story. People don’t want to hear it. Seriously. You bring them down.’
They do. I know my friend, Lara, was happy for me to share the details of my accident with her. Frank can be horrible sometimes and I hate him for it.
‘Look at her. She couldn’t wait to get away.’
She was getting away from you, arsehole.
‘People hate misery. They don’t want it in their happy lives. But me, I’m here for you. Always am, always will be.’ He kneels down and wipes my tear away before taking the basket from my lap.
‘She was happy listening to me.’
He laughs as he throws the tomatoes into the basket and starts to walk ahead of me. I wheel myself towards him. ‘You might think she was happy listening to you.’
‘She’s having a hard time too. We were talking, you know? Having a conversation. Her poor daughter was friends with the girl who got murdered by us.’ I stare at him, looking for him to give something away but he doesn’t.
He huffs out another laugh from his nose. ‘Did you tell her what you wrote on Twitter? You’re glad one of those pain in the arse kids was murdered. I think you should stay away from her. You’ll only get hurt.’ That was a threat. He’d make sure I got hurt.
He was right. I’m not a good person and I have no right injecting myself into Lara’s life. As we approach the tills, I spot Lara in the self-service checkout, several along. Frank can’t stop gazing over at her to the point I’ll be embarrassed if she looks back. ‘Stop staring at her.’
‘I wasn’t. Don’t be such a jealous mare.’
He is staring and I’m not jealous. Lara wouldn’t look at him twice. He’s still staring and I feel he knows who Lara is. It’s the way he’s scrunching his brow and biting the inside of his cheek. Again, I wonder if all the clues to what he’s hiding are hidden in the kitchen. As soon as I get my chance, I’m going to find out what he’s hiding in there.
Reaching into my pocket, I feel for the card. I watch as Lara leaves the store, her wavy hair bouncing as she walks away, and I wonder if Frank is right. Should I or shouldn’t I make contact? Either could lead to disastrous consequences.
Twenty-One
Gina headed out to the reception area and smiled at Nick, the desk sergeant, as she entered. That’s when she spotted the girl with her mother, both nervously playing with hair and biting their nails. It was obvious that neither of them had ever been into a police station before.
‘Caro and Mrs Blakely are here to see you, guv.’
‘Thanks, Nick.’
She walked over and smiled at the girl. ‘Hello, Caro, I’m DI Harte but you can call me Gina. Thank you for coming in to speak to me. I’m sorry about your friend too and what you’re going through.’
Caro smiled and stood. Her mother placed her hand on her shoulder.
‘We’ll talk in the family room. This is an informal chat so please don’t worry.’ Gina led them along the corridor and into the room that was a little nicer than the interview rooms. It had comfier chairs that were designed to put people at ease. ‘Please take a seat.’
Jacob knocked and entered.
‘This is DI Driscoll, or Jacob. He will sit in too. If you need to stop at any time, just let us know.’ Mrs Blakely and her daughter sat on the couch and Gina pulled a couple of chairs from the corner of the room for her and Jacob. ‘I know it’s hot in here and I apologise. We don’t have air con and the window is jammed.’ That window had been another thing on the list of ignored repairs that needed doing at the station. The result of all the cuts was that nothing ever got done, so now they were all stifling in this tiny box while still working murder cases on what felt like a skeleton crew. Mrs Blakely began waving her tiny handbag in front of her face to create a draft. The edge of her hair was slightly damp with perspiration. ‘I’ll leave the door open. Can we get you a cold drink?’
Both mother and daughter shook their heads.
Jacob passed the paper case file across to Gina and he flipped his notebook open to a clean page in readiness to take a few notes.
‘How well did you know Leah?’
Caro glanced at her mother. Her long lashes glinting in the sunshine through the window.
‘She was a good friend of my daughter’s.’
‘Could Caro please answer.’ Gina smiled.
‘Of course. I’m so sorry. We’re really nervous, that’s all.’
‘And that’s perfectly normal. I understand it’s not every day something like this happens and thank goodness it doesn’t. Caro?’
The girl shifted slightly and pulled her tiny shorts down a little. ‘We were friends at school.’ Her lightly bronzed freckles glistened on her nose. ‘I’ve known her since we started junior school. We’ve been friends since.’ Caro paused. ‘Had been.’ She swallowed and placed her hands under her legs so that she was now sitting on them. Gina spotted a slight sweat patch forming under the girl’s arms, her dark T-shirt showing the dampness up.
She reached over and plugged the fan in and pointed it towards Caro and her mother. She and Jacob could suffer a while longer. ‘What was she like at school?’
‘Leah was lovely. We were good friends and I really liked her. She’d always share her things and help people with homework. She was clever, really good at science, not like me. She loved netball and played for the school team.’
‘Do you know if she’d fallen out with anyone lately?’
Caro scrunched her nose and shook her head. ‘No. We all liked her and she was friendly. She wasn’t being bullied as far as I know. She and Naomi had a little tiff a year or so ago because they both liked the same boy but that was nothing and it was over the minute it started.’
‘Moving on to Saturday night. Your friends have told us that you were invited to the party but you turned down the invite. Can you tell me a little more about this?’
‘You didn’t
say you were invited!’ Lara Blakely said.
‘Sorry, Mum. I didn’t think it mattered because I told them I wasn’t going.’
Gina pushed on. ‘Why didn’t you go?’
Caro shrugged her shoulders. Her face was beginning to redden.
‘My daughter probably didn’t want all the trouble that comes with drinking in the woods and staying out all night. She’s a good girl.’ Mrs Blakely seemed to be a little frustrated now.
‘If you could let your daughter answer.’
‘Sorry.’ Mrs Blakely leaned back in the chair and looked down at her feet.
A tear ran down Caro’s cheek.
‘What is it, sweetie?’
She shook her head as she started to sob.
‘Look, this is too much. My daughter has just lost a close friend. I don’t think she’s up to it.’
‘I’m okay, Mum. It’s going to come out anyway.’
Gina paused, waiting for the girl to open up.
‘There was another party two weeks ago and I went, Mum. I’m so, so, sorry. I told you I was staying at Naomi’s house. I lied. I went to the party.’
Mrs Blakely grabbed her daughter into a hug. ‘You silly girl. You should have told me.’ She kissed her daughter’s head. ‘But it was stupid, very stupid. You could have got into trouble. It could have been you who was murdered.’
‘Can you confirm the date of the previous party?’
Caro began counting on her fingers while looking up. ‘Saturday the seventeenth of July.’
‘And what happened at that party? The one you went to.’ Gina needed some answers. Caro and her mother could talk through this later, together.
‘We had some drinks, mostly cider and we danced for a bit, then we slept in our tents. We woke up with a bit of a hangover and then went home.’
‘Why didn’t you go to the party this past Saturday?’
‘I felt really ill the last time and I didn’t want to go through that again. I’ve never felt so rough. That’s the only reason.’
