by Carla Kovach
‘Who brought the weed?’
She paused and looked up at her mother. ‘Oscar.’
Lara rolled her eyes. ‘I should have known. That boy is trouble so I want you to stay away from him in future. He’s no good for you. He’s trouble.’
‘Mum, that’s not fair.’
‘It is. He was always in detention. That little act he puts on for his dad, everyone can see through it apart from him.’
‘Can I go to my room too?’ Caro needed this conversation to end, now.
‘Okay. When your father gets home, we’re going to have a family talk.’
She hated the family talk. Her mother always thought that airing out their problems as a family was a good thing. It made Caro cringe every time they did it. ‘But—’
‘Don’t but me. That’s how we get through things in this household.’
Caro sighed as she hurried out of the kitchen and up to her room. She grabbed a stuffed dolphin cushion from her bed and threw it at the window. If she played up over the so-called family talk, she’d end up grounded. She was sixteen, not six; that made her almost an adult. She could join the army at this age but still she had a mother who treated her like she was a little kid with groundings and stupid family meetings. No, she wasn’t being grounded. She crept back down the stairs and as she reached the bottom, she glanced at the front door and took a deep breath. She opened it as quietly as possible then slammed it closed as she darted down the path, heading to the playing field two streets away. As she approached she spotted Anthony sitting on the grass, puffing away on his vape. The air smelled of toffee. Her phone rang. It was her mother. She turned it off and sat next to him, taking his vape and having a puff. She exhaled and felt the calmness of the nicotine work its way through her body. ‘I’m sorry to hear about your grandma, by the way.’
‘Thanks. She’d been sick for a long time but I’m glad the funeral is over. Poor Gramps. We had to leave him alone to come back home for this. I wasn’t with the police long. As soon as they knew I was in Devon, that was it, then I messaged you.’
Caro paused, giving him a moment. ‘How did it go with the police?’
Anthony took his vape back. ‘Hated every minute of it.’
‘You didn’t tell them what I did?’
Anthony laughed. ‘No, your naked arse running through the woods is safe with me, innit?’ He removed his cap and ran a hand over his extremely short shaven brown hair that covered his head.
‘Only my mum would freak. She’s already freaking about me just being there. I’m not meant to be out now so I’ll probably get grounded later.’
‘She grounds you?’ He shook his head.
‘She tries. I friggin’ hate living there. My little brother is annoying and I hate this shitty town.’
‘Did you tell ’em that I punched Jordan?’
‘No way.’ She made a zip motion with her fingers against her lips.
He placed a friendly arm around her.
‘I got a weird message. Say anything and you’re next.’
‘What?’ Anthony’s eyebrows went up as his eyes widened.
‘I know, sinister, isn’t it?’
‘Who sent it?’
‘Durr, if I knew that I’d be having it out with them and giving you the goss!’
‘Be careful and if you need anything, let me know and I’ll sort it.’
Caro knew that Anthony would struggle to pair socks from a laundry basket. She had no idea how he could help her get to the bottom of who sent her the anonymous messages that could no longer be seen anymore. ‘There is something you can help me with and no lies, okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘Where did you go at the last party, when you stomped off after the fight?’
He nudged her away and began to grind his back teeth. ‘What you tryin’ to say?’
‘Nothing. I just remember you leaving and I don’t remember you coming back.’
‘That’s because you were pissed. I just went to cool down, then I went back to my tent. Went to sleep. That was it.’
‘You said you wanted to help me and I’m just trying to piece the night together. I have such vague memories after the fight. Tell me what happened.’
‘I feel really bad havin’ to tell you this but that was the roofie.’
‘What?’
‘Look, you deserve to know and before you think anything. I. Was. Not. On. Board. Jordan and Oscar and even the girls are prize pricks, which is partly why I ended up scrapping. Their dare was to get a roofie into you.’
‘What did they do to me? That’s used for date rape. I’m not stupid.’
‘It’s not like that. It was just for a joke, no one touched you. I made sure of it.’
‘What? Like you watched me all night? Seriously?’
‘It was just a stupid dare. They thought you might do more stupid things for a laugh, that’s all. The girls were there so you were safe. They just knew you were game to make a fool of yourself.’
She swallowed a sob back. ‘And did I?’
‘Nah. They dared you to do naked dancing around the fire so that they could film it for a laugh but you told them where to go. You managed to fall into your tent and that was it. I think they thought you’d be game as you’d already got your kit off once.’
‘That’s why I felt so ill. How could you of all people let them do that to me?’ Her bottom lip began to quiver. ‘I thought we were friends.’
‘We are and you know how much I like you, that’s why I punched Jordan. What they did was stupid and I didn’t agree to it. They got carried away and I did try to stop them. Hello.’ He pointed to his ribs. ‘I think one of ’em cracked my rib.’
‘They drew all over my arms.’
‘Just pretend tattoos, innit? That’s what I mean. It was just immature shit. That was all. They were going to shave your eyebrows but I stopped them.’
‘How do I know I can trust what you say?’
‘What? You serious?’
She nodded.
‘I stuck up for you at that party. Got myself punched up by Oscar and Jordan. I wouldn’t go to another of those stupid parties if you paid me.’
Over this past two weeks, that evening had been a blur, but something flashed to the front of her mind, then it went as quick as it came. She hit the grass with her closed fist and roared.
‘What’s up?’
She scrunched her brow and stared at a beetle crawling over a blade of grass before flicking it into the bushes. What was her memory trying to unlock and how much could she trust of what Anthony was saying?
A flashback to the party came again. A sound, more like a sex groan. She knew who was doing the groaning and the sound was haunting her.
‘Oh, I saw Oscar put a roofie in your drink. While Jordan wasn’t looking, he poured some of the powder into his pocket, maybe even more and he just gave you a bit. I didn’t think it would do anything, if I’m honest.’
‘Thanks for stuff all.’ She stood and kicked his leg before running off. He’d let her down.
‘Hey, Caro. I’m sorry.’
It was all too much to take in. They drugged her and now someone was threatening her. For now, it was time to go back home and face her mother, which she was dreading.
As the sun began to fall, she thought one more time about Leah and she sobbed until she couldn’t sob any more. So many tears. Tears she never thought she had in her. That groaning she had heard while in her half-drugged state had been Leah’s. Leah had been having sex. That’s what she’d heard but then, she knew that Oscar and Leah were flirting so it shouldn’t have been a surprise. It had to be them.
Knowing that she’d been drugged had changed everything for Caro. Perhaps Leah had been drugged that night too. Maybe she had read the whole situation wrongly. She kicked a tree stump until she felt a hot pain spreading through her foot. She thought about the Snapchat message again. Who was threatening her if she went to the police? She glanced around, searching for that very threat. Sudde
nly, it felt like the whole world was closing in on her, like they were watching from the houses surrounding the field.
Between two houses on a path that led to the bus route, she spotted someone wearing a cap and track bottoms. The low sun shone a fraction above her eyes, making her squint to see. Before she could get a good look, this person turned and went. She half-hopped away as fast as she could trying not to put any more pressure on her small toe.
Her mum’s anger was the lesser of her fears right now. The person who had sent that message might have been the person who was watching her, knowing full well that she’d been talking to Anthony. Did talking to Anthony count or was it the police they didn’t want her to talk to? She had to get home. For now, all the secrets from the party would remain within the party group and no one else could know. Not her mum and not the police. The dares were stupid, that’s all. Leah’s murder would blow over and no one would want to know about their party then. If they all held their nerve, it would all be over soon.
Not speaking equals staying safe. Say a word and you’ll be next to die. She gulped.
Twenty-Five
I’ve been placed in front of the TV watching Pointless and my whole life feels pointless. At least Frank gave me my phone back under the provision that I don’t publish anything on social media. He just got home from one of his walks and now he’s upstairs having a sleep. He says that I wear him out and I know I do. This afternoon has been a challenge, what with his shouting at me and the tension he’s filling the house with. Before he popped out, he paced around, agitated, and he didn’t eat the lunch that he prepared for us both. His sandwich still sits on the coffee table, the corners of the bread now dried up. I wave my hand at the fly that lands on it. I don’t know, maybe he’ll want to eat it later. The tuna is starting to stink, so maybe not.
Since seeing Lara in the supermarket this morning, he hasn’t been himself. She didn’t appear to know him but I’m sure that he recognised her from somewhere.
I pull out my phone and Lara’s card. My finger quivers as I unlock it. Maybe she gave me her contact details out of politeness and if I call, I’ll feel stupid as she makes her excuses to get me off the phone. Or if Frank doesn’t want me to be friends with her, he might just tell her what I wrote in that tweet if ever we were to meet up. Given the circumstances, that might be enough to ruin a friendship that has just been rekindled. And Frank would do that. He doesn’t want me to have anyone else, which is bizarre as he doesn’t seem thrilled to spend time with me, ever. I don’t know what he wants. And I don’t trust him. If he hurt that girl, Lara will hate me too. Gosh, I don’t even know what I want. I’m stuck in the unknown with no way out.
I think back to our old house only a few years ago. Frank and I grew up in Cleevesford but moved away together in our twenties. For a better life. For an adventure. We both settled into good jobs south of London and had a lovely home in Croydon. I worked as a finance manager for an engineering company and him as a self-employed kitchen fitter. We made money on our house. He improved it, the value went up and we were able to come back to Cleevesford and buy this cottage outright. I loved our old life but Frank ruined all that. So, here we were. Back living in our hometown. I shake my head, trying to banish thoughts of the reason for our move back. I can’t let the past swamp me anymore. This house was our new start and I still need to find mine. Maybe I’ll start doing accounts from home.
A tinge of sadness washes over me. Our house down south was spacious and open plan, not like here. If we still lived there, I’d be able to wheel myself around without bumping into everything but we chose the simple life when it came to our finances. That’s a lie and I know it. I can’t get the past out of my mind, not today. This is what I do all the time now, I dwell on things. We were forced out of our home. However hard I try to forget, the memories sit there, festering like the stinking sandwich on the coffee table. Slowly it will turn to rot just like our lives. It can’t get worse and I suppose that’s something to be happy about. Right now as that same pesky fly lands on the bread again, I sense that the sandwich is about to become so full of life, it’ll start crawling. That thought makes me shiver.
First came the crime back then in 2016. Then the reporters followed, and then the angry mob; then came Frank’s conviction. He got off lightly really. I didn’t, even though I committed no crime. People thought I knew what he was doing, that maybe I got kicks out of it too. I lost my job, which was down to the abuse my company got because of Frank. After two months in prison, Frank was released early for good behaviour. I lived in a rental lodge during that time, hiding from the angry mob who seemed to want to blame me for Frank’s perversions. He promised me he’d changed and I loved and craved him so deeply; obsessively even. I couldn’t lose him. I mean, doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance? It’s not as if he touched or killed anyone. Now, I’m not so sure I made the right choice. I really think he’s capable of killing a girl. He’s become more violent and I see a turbulence within him that I fear more than anything. Whatever he’s hiding in that kitchen is about to ruin our lives again. I just know it. If he goes to prison, we are over. I can’t go through all that hate and I don’t want to have to leave the town I grew up in because of his mistakes which means I will stand against him if he’s done wrong.
My body begins to shake and I can’t stop it. Rapid breaths escape me, rendering me a little woozy as oxygen becomes scarce. Without him, I can’t do everything I need to do. I need him. Shaking those thoughts away, I put Lara’s number in my phone under ‘the council’ and start typing out a text message. I don’t want Frank to see that I’ve texted her so as soon as it’s sent, I will delete it from my outbox. Lara was my friend. She can be my friend again and if Frank has committed the unspeakable, I’m sure she wouldn’t blame me. She knows me from years ago and she knows that I would never harm anyone.
Hi Lara. It was really nice to see you today after all these years. Thought I’d text you so that we have each other’s numbers. Be lovely to catch up soon. Sandy. X
Too much? Not enough? Am I about to humiliate myself? For heaven’s sake! It’s not a date. She’s just an old friend. Before the accident I wouldn’t have a problem with sending a text to an old friend. I need that Sandy back and only I can dig her out of her rut.
I hit send. That’s it; done. The text has gone and now I wait. Staring at the phone for a few minutes, I hope she’ll answer quick but nothing. My phone is silent. Pointless is now coming to an end and the news is about to start.
I’m startled by a loud knock at the door so I turn off the TV. Listening for Frank, I soon realise that he hasn’t stirred.
Struggling to manoeuvre my wheelchair around the cramped living room, I eventually steer it in the right direction. I wheel past the staircase, the kitchen to my right and then past my bedroom to the left and I almost crash into the door. It’s no good, I can’t reach the bolt which seems to be in the highest position possible. I wish Frank wouldn’t use it. ‘Who is it?’
‘Cleevesford Police. I’m DI Harte and I’m with DS Driscoll.’
My stomach drops. I knew it. Frank is in trouble again and the police have come for him. ‘Can you come round the back?’ I call out. ‘I’m wheelchair bound and I can’t reach the top bolt.’ I don’t want them to think I’m trying to keep them out which might make them slam the door down. I’ve seen that happen in films.
‘Of course. Is that Mrs Meegan?’
‘Yes.’
‘We’re heading around the back,’ DI Harte says.
I listen as they leave. The gate hinges screech as the detectives leave the front garden. We are the cottage on the end of a terrace so it won’t take them long to follow the fence around the building. I back into my bedroom, calling up the stairs to Frank as I pass through, then I wait by the back sliding doors at the one end of the living room. I can’t get to them properly so I’m banging everything in the way. The dining table takes up too much room. I can just about reach the key. I turn it just as they
come in through the back gate so I beckon them in. As the glass slides open, Frank enters the living room, rubbing his eyes. ‘What the hell did you wake me for?’ It’s like he’s instantly awake as he sees the two detectives entering and I want the ground to swallow me up. My phone rings. It’s Lara. I kill the call and pocket my phone.
‘Mr and Mrs Meegan, we need to talk to you both about the murder of Leah Fenmore.’ I wish I could just vanish. The pain, hate and humiliation. I can’t go through that again but deep down I know I don’t have a choice. I didn’t have a choice last time and I certainly don’t now.
Twenty-Six
Gina shifted her body through the narrow gap between the dining table and the sliding doors. She left them open allowing a warm breeze to carry away the smell of fish, then she spotted the sweaty looking sandwich on the coffee table. Jacob almost bumped Gina into Mrs Meegan as she stopped. ‘Apologies for interrupting your evening, but we’re speaking to everyone in the area.’
‘We’ve already spoken to uniform. Someone came around here asking questions on Sunday morning. We ain’t got anything to add to what we’ve already said, have we, love?’ Frank Meegan rubbed his glassy eyes and yawned.
Mrs Meegan shook her head and wheeled her chair back a little, allowing Gina and Jacob to fully step into the room.
‘That may be so, Mr Meegan, and we thank you both for your cooperation, but there are further questions that we need to follow up on. May we sit?’
‘No.’ His stare hardened. ‘Just get to the point.’ The man stood with his arms folded, his T-shirt not quite covering his round belly. His forehead shone with beads of sweat and he looked sick, like he drank too much which gave his skin and eyes a yellowish tinge. He reached down and picked up an open can of cider from the dining table. After flicking the fly away, he began sipping.
‘Where were you between ten in the evening on Saturday the thirty-first of July and three in the morning on Sunday?’ Gina leaned on the wall between the window and the patio doors and Jacob pulled out the case notes.
