by Rachel Ward
When clocking-off time finally crawled its way round, Bea and Dot got changed in silence. Ginny’s locker was empty now, the door not quite closed. When they had shrugged off their uniforms and put on their coats, Bea glanced at the window. It was already dark outside and she shivered.
‘Ant said he’d walk me home,’ Dot said. ‘He’ll walk with you, too.’
‘I wasn’t going to go straight home,’ said Bea, looking over to Ginny’s locker again. ‘I thought I might take her some flowers, put some, you know, where . . . ’
Dot nodded. ‘I was just thinking that. Some of ours or some nice ones?’
‘Nice ones. Carol’s shop should be open till half past.’
‘Come on, then.’ Dot linked her arm through Bea’s. ‘What were you going to tell me about Ant?’
Bea hesitated. It wasn’t her place to say. ‘It’s just this problem doing his work. He should tell you really.’
‘Come on, Bea. It’s you and me. You tell me, and I promise I’ll act surprised when he spills the beans.’
‘It’s just that he can’t read, Dot. He never learnt at school.’
Dot’s mouth formed a perfect O. ‘That makes sense now you say it,’ she said, ‘but I never suspected. He’s clever, isn’t he? How he works round it. He’s clever – but he can’t read. Poor lad.’
‘I think he should tell Big Gav, but he won’t do it. Ashamed, I think.’
‘Ah, bless,’ said Dot. ‘Nothing to be ashamed of. They won’t sack him, though, will they? Although he might be on trolleys for the rest of his life.’
‘Unless Costsave cough up and pay for lessons for him.’
‘Do you think that’s likely?’
‘Dunno. It’s definitely a good news story if they do,’ said Bea. ‘We won’t know unless he gets up the courage to tell Gav.’
‘Hmm, let’s get him in a pincer movement. He’ll be helpless.’
‘I’m just going to pop in on Tom. He said to let him know how I was getting home.’
Dot’s eyes brightened. ‘Did he now?’
Bea couldn’t think of a put-down. ‘He’s just . . . being a gentleman.’
‘Ah, that’s nice. Think he might be a keeper, that one. I’ll wait in the corridor.’
Bea knocked on Gavin’s door; Tom came to answer it. ‘I’m in the middle of things, Bea. Are you okay?’ He looked tired. There were grey shadows under his eyes.
‘Yeah, Ant’s walking me and Dot home, so we’ll be okay.’
He frowned. ‘Will you be on your own with him?’
‘Yeah, we’ll probably go by Dot’s first.’
‘Do it the other way round. Make them walk to yours, then Dot’s.’
She snorted, and then panicked that something might have flown out of her nose and onto Tom. ‘It won’t be Ant. He’s not . . . no. Anyway, then Dot will be on her own with him, so what’s the difference?’
He leaned a little closer. ‘All the difference in the world,’ he whispered. ‘To me, anyway.’
Bea felt herself going warm again. She knew then that the kiss hadn’t been a one-off. There would be another one. Oh yes.
Behind Tom she could see Bob-on-Meat sitting at the desk with his back to the door with the woman constable opposite, facing them. Their eyes met, and the woman didn’t look away. It felt like she was sussing Bea out. Bea made to leave, and as she did so Tom reached out and his hand briefly touched hers.
‘Be careful,’ he said.
Dot and Ant were hanging about at the end of the corridor.
‘All right, ladies?’ said Ant.
‘Yeah. You okay about coming with us to put some flowers down?’
‘Course.’
The cold air hit them as they left the store. Bea wrapped her coat tighter around her and turned up her collar. As they walked past the recycling bins, they saw someone crouching down behind Tom’s squad car. They heard the repeated click of a shutter.
‘Jesus!’ Ant darted ahead and shot round the side of the car. He tried to grab the camera from Kevin McKey’s hands, and they tussled for a while before Kevin shoved Ant away. He staggered backwards, flailing his arms before he regained his balance.
‘Push off, you little shit!’ Kevin shouted. ‘I’ll get you for assault!’
Dislodged in the scuffle, strands of combed-over hair were flapping wildly by the side of his head. He looked like he was unravelling.
‘You’re out of order, you are!’ Ant screamed back.
‘It’s my job! I’m reporting the investigation. You can’t keep Costsave out of it. Everyone knows she worked here.’
‘You don’t have to take pictures of the girls who work here though. Creep! If you put them in your fucking paper, I’ll have you!’
He jabbed a finger in Kevin’s direction, inches away from his face. Kevin, holding the camera close to his body to protect it, backed away. ‘All right, all right. It’s not up to me anyway.’
‘Well, tell whoever what I said. Don’t print pictures of the girls. Got it?’
Kevin didn’t reply. He was busy smoothing a hand from one ear right across the dome of his scalp to the other side. Enjoying its new found freedom, his hair sprang back again.
‘Leave him, Ant. Let’s get to Carol’s before she closes,’ Dot called out, and he came back to them. Dot and Bea linked arms with him, one either side, and they walked across the car park.
‘Vultures. That’s what people like him are,’ said Ant.
Dot squeezed his arm. ‘I know. Thanks for defending us. You didn’t need to, though. We could’ve had a word ourselves.’
Ant smiled. ‘I was protecting him really. If you and Bea had had a go at him, he’d be wearing his balls as earrings by now.’
‘True enough. Scumbag.’
‘It could be him, you know,’ said Bea, quietly.
‘What?’
‘It could be him. The man doing this. His mum lives near the Green, so he’s around a lot of the time. He grew up here, so he knows all the alleyways.’
Dot and Ant stopped walking, pulling Bea to a halt as they did so.
‘Are you serious?’ Dot said.
Bea regretted blurting it out, but it was too late now. ‘Yeah. He’s on my list.’
‘You’ve got a list?’
‘When I was followed and Emma was attacked, I went through it in my mind and made a list of the blokes there that evening. That McKey bloke was one of them.’
‘He is creepy,’ said Dot.
‘Yeah, but then so are a lot of people when you start looking. And maybe it’s the ones that don’t look creepy that we should be worried about.’
‘It’s always the quiet ones, that’s what they say, isn’t it?’
‘Hmm.’
‘Am I on it?’ Ant said.
Bea swallowed. ‘Yeah, but—’
‘Shit. You don’t really think . . . Do you?’
‘No. Course not.’
‘Because if you really think that I might be someone like that, do something like that, then I shouldn’t be here now. I shouldn’t walk you home, should I?’ He was getting agitated now, disentangling his arms from theirs, stepping away then turning round to face them. ‘But I can’t leave you, because I know it’s not me and I don’t want either of you walking around while he’s still out there and—’
‘Ant. Ant! It’s all right.’ Bea walked towards him, put a hand on his arm. ‘It’s just a list. I don’t think it’s you. I’m pretty sure Dot and I are safe with you.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. Dot?’
‘Of course. If I was at all worried, I wouldn’t have . . . I mean we wouldn’t . . . ’ She stopped and sent a shifty look to Bea, checking if she’d noticed her embarrassment. ‘You’re a good person, Ant, that’s all I’m saying. I’m very glad you’re walking us home.’
‘The cops don’t think I’m a good person. They gave me a right grilling this afternoon.’
‘Don’t take it personally, Ant. They did that to everyone.’
‘Not too late?’ Dot said to her.
She turned around. ‘Oh, hiya, Dot. No, I’m staying open later tonight. A lot of people are buying flowers for that poor girl.’
‘That’s what we’re here for.’
She pressed her lips together. ‘Feels a bit wrong taking people’s money for something like this, but . . . ’
‘People want to buy them, Carol. They want to pay their respects. There’s nothing wrong with that.’
‘Yeah, I know. Do it every day, don’t I, with funerals and that. Comes with the territory. This feels worse somehow. Young girl like that.’ They followed her into the shop. ‘What would you like anyway?’
Dot and Bea decided to club together for a bouquet. They called Ant into the shop and he chipped in fifty pence. It was all he had in his pocket. While Carol wrapped the flowers in cellophane and tied them with raffia, Dot and Bea contemplated the blank card she put on the counter for them.
‘I don’t know what to write,’ said Bea. She looked at Dot for help.
‘What can we say? Rest in peace? Miss you? It all sounds, I don’t know, it just doesn’t say it, does it. Words can’t really say what you feel.’
The card stayed blank. Dot and Bea looked at each other helplessly, then they both looked at Ant. He shrugged his shoulders.
‘I didn’t know her like you did. What will you miss about her?’ said Ant.
‘Her smile,’ said Dot.
‘Her cheerfulness, her optimism,’ said Bea. ‘There was nothing cynical about her. She was just a lovely person.’
‘Yeah, she was. Like the sun coming out – she was like that.’
‘Write that, then,’ said Ant. ‘They sound like good words to me. They do say what you feel.’
Bea wrote the card and Carol tied it onto the bouquet. They set off again, arms linked like before.
‘You’ll almost be home when we’ve done this,’ Dot said. ‘You won’t want to walk back our way.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Ant. ‘No problem.’
The wind gusted along the street and they put their heads down and walked faster. Everyone else seemed to be doing the same. No eye contact, no friendly greetings. Everyone in a hurry to get home and lock the doors.
They passed a newspaper board outside the newsagents: ‘Murder latest. Victim named.’ They turned left at the roundabout at the end of the High Street and followed the road round until they reached the turning into Ant’s estate. Bea was going to ask exactly where they were heading when she saw a cluster of people on the pavement fifty metres or so ahead of them, police tape visible in the gaps in between, sealing off the entrance to the alley.
‘I don’t know if I can do this,’ said Bea.
‘It’s all right,’ said Dot. ‘We don’t have to stop for long. Come on.’
As they got nearer to the alley it looked as if the pavement was twinkling as the streetlight was reflected off the wrappings of hundreds of bunches of flowers – a sea of plastic and petals.
‘Oh,’ said Bea, as the smell reached her: freesias and lilies and roses. The scent of a summer wedding wafting down the pavement on this cold, dark evening. She felt her tears coming and looked across at Dot. She was crying too. Between them, Ant was sombre-faced, taking in the scene.
They walked slowly forward until they reached the edge of the tribute. Bea bent down and added their bouquet. She stood up again and the three of them stood, heads bowed, for a moment or two. Bea fished in her pocket for a tissue. She dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose. Dot was doing the same. Ant had turned his back on them both and walked a few paces away. Bea turned to walk after him, but Dot caught her arm. She shook her head and mouthed, ‘Leave him,’ and Bea realised that he was crying too. So, the two women spent a few minutes reading some of the other cards. They were from family, friends, neighbours – an outpouring of love from the community Ginny had lived in her whole, short life.
When Ant rejoined them, they linked arms again and started walking back to the town centre.
They passed Eileen and Dean coming the other way, Eileen clutching a bunch of Costsave roses. They nodded to each other but didn’t stop to chat. They walked in silence, past the end of the High Street, up to the Green. An old chip wrapper blew towards them and lodged on Bea’s ankle. She kicked it off.
They crossed the Green and headed for Bea’s estate. Rows of grey houses loomed out of the darkness like gravestones.
‘Kingsleigh doesn’t feel like Kingsleigh any more,’ Dot said.
‘Eh?’ said Ant.
‘I know what you mean,’ said Bea. ‘It’s always been a bit dull. Nothing ever happens here. I like it like that.’
‘That’s not strictly true, is it?’ said Ant. ‘There was that time the travel agents got ram-raided.’
‘Ha! They were aiming for the jewellers and missed,’ said Bea. ‘Classic. Only in K-town.’
‘And the time those numpties were smashing the newsagents window with a sledgehammer and the frigging door was already open.’
‘Again, only in K-town.’
‘There was that stabbing in the chip shop, though, when we were at school,’ said Ant. ‘That was epic.’
‘Epic? It was nasty. That’s all anyone talked about for weeks at Costsave,’ said Dot.
‘But apart from that, it’s not a bad old town, is it?’
‘Hmm, not bad. And I never felt unsafe walking around. Not really,’ said Bea. ‘Not like now.’
‘Me neither,’ said Dot. ‘It’s just not that sort of place.’
‘Maybe that’s the point,’ said Bea. ‘Maybe everywhere is that sort of place. That’s why I started investigating – I want that lowlife caught. I want Kingsleigh back to how it should be.’
‘Just leave it to the professionals, Bea,’ said Dot. ‘Don’t start looking under stones and stirring things up. Just keep safe, babe.’
‘Hmm, maybe.’ She paused for a while, then, ‘Ant, you should really tell Big Gav what’s under your stone. Everyone forgot about it today, but it’ll come back to bite you.’
Ant looked sideways at her, the whites of his eyes flashing in the streetlight.
‘Shut up, Bea,’ he hissed, and Bea cursed herself. She’d forgotten that Ant didn’t know that Dot knew. ‘Not now. Not today.’
‘What not now?’ asked Dot.
‘Nothing,’ Ant muttered.
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing. Just leave it, all right?’
‘You in trouble, love?’
‘No,’ he said, sullenly.
‘Yes,’ said Bea. ‘Tell her. Go on. Tell her, Ant.’
He breathed out through pursed lips and looked to the sky.
‘Do you think I’m thick, Dot?’
‘No. You’re a smart lad.’
‘Well, you’re wrong. I am thick. So thick I can’t even read.’ His voice got quieter as he was speaking until the last four words were barely more than a whisper. But Dot had known what was coming, so she didn’t need to humiliate him by asking him to repeat them.
‘That’s all right, love,’ she said, evenly. ‘Lots of people can’t read.’
‘Aren’t you shocked?’
‘No. Not really. School isn’t for everyone, is it? Not everyone gets on there. My nan never learnt to read. There’s no shame in it.’
‘Well, I am ashamed. And Bea’s on at me to tell Big Gav.’
‘She’s right,’ said Dot. ‘You’ll get the sack if you don’t. You can’t just refuse to do certain things, or mess them up. He needs to know.’
‘He’ll still sack me.’
‘I’m not sure he can sack you for that. It’s a thing, isn’t it? Equal ac
cess or human rights or something.’
‘I dunno.’
‘Perhaps we could help you,’ said Dot. ‘Me and Bea could give you lessons.’
‘You two?’ said Ant. ‘Are you kidding?’
‘Yes, us two,’ said Dot. ‘And no, I’m not kidding. Bea, are you up for it?’
‘Well, yeah, I’d give it a go,’ said Bea. ‘If you want. Ant?’
He’d turned his head away again. When he turned back his mouth was moving, but no words were coming out. Bea was shocked to see tears welling up in his eyes.
‘You’d really do that?’ he said, his voice a little unsteady.
‘Yes, course we would.’
‘Guys, that’s just so . . . I don’t think anyone’s ever been so . . . ’
Both women hugged his arms tighter. They were nearly at Bea’s house now.
‘I’ll be all right from here,’ she said at the end of her road.
‘Na-ah, we’ll see you to your door,’ Ant insisted.
She said goodbye to them outside her front gate, giving each a little hug in turn. It felt right – it had been that kind of day.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you two tomorrow.’ And then to Ant, ‘You take care of her.’
He gave her the thumbs up. ‘I will.’
Just before she went round the corner to the kitchen door, Bea glanced back. Dot was still holding Ant’s arm. They both raised their free hands to wave at Bea, and she waved back.
Of course, although they’d managed to laugh it off, Ant was one of the names on her list. And when she came to cross-check people at the pub, or at the spinathon, with those who were in the frame from Singles Night, Ant’s name would still be there. She felt a little pain in her stomach, something twisting, digging away. Should she call them into the house, make up some excuse for Ant to stay here and Dot to get a taxi instead? No, she was being silly. Ant was a chancer, a bit of scally, but there was nothing nasty about him.
Whoever was out there, following girls, attacking them, leaving them for dead, was beyond nasty. There was evil inside them – something that made them step beyond normal behaviour that propelled them to cross a line.
Bea looked up again. Ant and Dot had gone. The space where they had been was softly lit up by the street lamp. It sent out a pool of light and beyond that was darkness. She’d lived in this road most of her life, but Dot was right: Kingsleigh didn’t feel like Kingsleigh any more.
