Gill watched him manipulate a footballer into a scoring position. The soundtrack commentary set her teeth on edge. ‘You eaten?’
‘Yes.’
‘Your dad make you something?’
He didn’t answer.
‘Sammy?’
He let his head fall back against the top of the sofa cushion. ‘Emma,’ he said.
Gill tensed. ‘Emma fed you. Where?’
‘At their place.’
‘Who took you to college?’
‘Mum,’ he complained.
‘Who picked you up at lunch?’
‘Emma.’
‘And this morning?’
‘Emma. Dad was busy.’
Busy? Fuck that! One day, two car rides and he sent his slaggy whore to be chauffeur. And cook! Gill was tempted to ask Sammy what he’d been fed, but she wouldn’t lower herself.
She went into the kitchen and shut the door. When Dave answered she piled straight in: ‘Couldn’t you have bloody done it yourself? He’s your son.’
‘You’re being petty.’
‘I don’t want that cow near him.’
‘Gill! Have you listened to yourself?’
‘No. Zip it, fuckwit. If I ask you to do something for Sammy, I’m asking you. You do precious bloody little as it is.’
‘Gill, you need to grow up and move on.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ Her blood boiling, that red mist behind her eyes. ‘Like you have? Who is it you’ve moved on to now? Saturday night? Bigger tits, has she? Fresher uniform? Emma not twigged yet? Slow on the uptake, eh?’
‘Took you long enough.’ Hit her like a slap. Bastard.
‘I knew,’ she said. ‘I knew back when Sammy was in nursery and you were so pally with Sally the sergeant. But I thought Sammy was more important than hanging your dick out to dry. You were the one who fucked this family up, Dave, and there is no way that your tart is going to play stepmother to my son. He needs a father, not a stepmother!’ She ended the call, her whole body shaking, cursing under her breath. How dare he! How dare he still make her feel this way. How long would it take before she could think of him without feeling the spite in her mouth when she said his name, the hurt when she thought of him and Emma in their cramped little house with their snotty little kid.
She flung open the fridge door and got out a bottle of gin, there since the summer. No tonic, but Sammy’s lemonade would do. She mixed the drink and added ice and a chunk of lemon. Stuck an Amy Winehouse CD in the player and turned the volume up. She made herself a stir-fry, prawns and veg, oyster sauce and noodles, slugging the gin as she cooked and doing the odd dance step to the music. She had double her chocolate ration to follow. Fuck it.
She thought about Matthew. Nice bloke on first acquaintance, nice place, good taste, not afraid to roll up his sleeves and get stuck in, money to splash about. Good job, people person like herself. She had been flattered by his interest – delighted, if she was honest – to be seen as a woman and not a boss or a mother or a pal. As a woman, a potential lover, mate, partner. So long since she had been that. But how could she even entertain him when she was still so… She struggled to explain it to herself. So… What? Hurt? Damaged? Distrustful? All three.
He was only talking about a meal, though, when she had time. Could be weeks away, months. But I’d be leading him on, she thought sadly, because I’m not ready. Because I’m scared of someone hurting me like that all over again.
40
RACHEL WAS DESPERATE to interview Raleigh, but Gill was unsure about it. The girl had too much invested in it, seemed convinced that Raleigh was responsible for the rape of Rosie Vaughan as well as the murder of Lisa Finn. Conviction could hamper her performance in interview, prevent her really listening. How capable was she of being objective? The track record so far told against her. But should Gill give her a chance to make amends, up her game? She discussed it with Andy over a quick breakfast in the canteen: ‘Do you think she could rise to the challenge?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I’ve not had much time with her. If she doesn’t, we could be in a right mess.’
He sounded flat, not like Andy. OK, he usually kept things to himself, never one to prattle on, but he generally had more of a spark. Gill hadn’t heard of any problems on the domestic front. His work had been exemplary. Was he just tired, some minor health problem? She’d keep an eye on him; if he didn’t buck up, she’d have a quiet word.
‘I could use it as part of her training development plan. She wants to go for tier three. Make sure she does a full prep with Janet.’
He pulled a face.
‘You’re not sure?’
‘Like you say, this one’s got personal for her. Is it the best place for her to start?’
‘I’ll ask her. Treat her like a grown-up, see how she responds.’
Rachel had a sulky look on her face until she grasped what Gill was actually saying. ‘And you treat it like a witness interview, all smiles and sympathy. Can you do that?’
‘I can, yes.’ Rachel nodded her head.
‘No pressure, no innuendo, no bullying, no snidey little comments.’
‘I know.’ Rachel was almost running on the spot, so eager to get at it.
‘You’ll plan and prep with Janet, and I’ll be watching you in interview. This will count towards your application for the tier three course. So, you will be grace incarnate. I want that man to come away feeling smug and safe and valued.’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘You understand why?’
‘Of course,’ she said impatiently.
Gill turned her hand round in a circle. ‘Enlighten me.’
‘Because we want him to open up, we want him to talk, then when he gives us a shedload of lies, we’ve got him by the balls.’
‘And if we jumped the gun – slagged him off, shouting, screaming, making threats?’
‘He wouldn’t tell us anything.’
‘Right.’ Gill stepped back to let her leave. Pointed two fingers in a V-shape at her own eyes and then back towards Rachel. I’ll be watching you.
‘Janet,’ Andy came to her desk, ‘Lee says Ade’s downstairs, he wants to see you.’
Her stomach dropped. Ade never came to work. He knew! He’d found out. How? She looked at Andy, saw he was worried too, his face pale, eyes alert.
‘Shit. Do you know…?’ she said.
Andy shook his head quickly.
‘Right.’ She got up, fluttering in her belly, her chest tight. Self-consciously she smoothed back her hair. Would he make a scene? It wasn’t Ade’s way in the general run of things, but then this wasn’t a normal occurrence. Maybe Ade, being cheated on, would turn into some raving loony, go berserk and shout the house down. Give Andy a bloody nose.
Janet saw Gill peer across from her office, antennae twitching. Sharp as a tack. Janet forced a smile Andy’s way for Gill’s benefit.
She went downstairs, trying to relax her face muscles, bracing herself.
Ade was sitting in the foyer. She saw him before he noticed her. He didn’t look particularly agitated. He was tapping on his phone – surfing the news pages, Janet saw as she reached him.
‘What?’ she said.
‘We’ve had a phone call,’ he said.
‘Yes?’ Who? Some tittle-tattler? Who knew? No one. Had someone seen them leaving the works do together?
‘Mr Fairley, he wants to see us with Taisie after school. Today, if possible.’
Oh, thank fuck for that! She felt weak at the knees. ‘You could have rung me,’ Janet said, cross now that she had been panicked, going on the offensive.
‘I was passing, thought we could sort it out now.’
‘Well, I can’t go,’ Janet said.
Ade gave a snidey little laugh. ‘You never can.’
Had he come to pick a fight? Janet took a breath. ‘Slight exaggeration, but this week, no way. I assume this is about the sugar-plum business?’
Ade shrugged. ‘Wouldn’t say. Didn’t want to discuss it over the phone, said it wasn’t appropriate.’