‘No,’ Maddie began to panic, ‘no, Mummy.’
‘It’s only a light,’ I struggled to keep the irritation from my voice.
‘You look into your mum’s ear,’ said Moira to Maddie.
‘Can I?’ Her face brightened.
‘Thanks,’ I muttered, and played patient until my daughter was relaxed enough to be examined.
‘Yes, there’s quite a lot of inflammation. I’ll give her a short course of antibiotics, in suspension; give her five ml three times a day after meals. You can carry on with the Calpol today. Should kick in pretty quickly after that. Make sure she finishes the course.’
‘Would it clear up if she didn’t have them?’ I asked, thinking of all I’d read about super bugs and immune systems.
‘Probably. Take longer, though and I’d want to see her every couple of days to make sure it was no worse.’
‘Mummy, I need the medicine,’ Maddie became tearful.
‘Yes, you do. We’ll take it.’ The prospect of trailing back and forth to Moira’s all week and having Maddie off school for twice as long helped me make the decision. And she didn’t have antibiotics very often, I reassured myself.
Maddie clutched the bag containing her bottle of syrup as we drove back. I accepted that this would be a short working day. I had to call Mrs Deason, tell her to warn Joey. I had better ring Victor Wallace, too. I’d pass on the information on the stalker, now Gary Crowther, to Rebecca Henderson and let Debbie know that things were moving. But after that it would be bliss to curl up with Maddie and try to catch up on some sleep.
There was a white van parked opposite my house. I felt giddy and sick. I drew up into the drive and sat in the car wondering what I should do. Before I could make a decision, I saw Rashid Siddiq get out of the van and make as if to cross the road. I told Maddie to stay put. I got out and locked the car behind me. I intercepted him at the gateway, my prime concern to keep him away from my child.
‘What do you want?’ I demanded.
Close up he smelt of Imperial Leather and I could see a nick on his chin where he’d cut himself shaving. He was a big man, large-boned, with very broad shoulders.
‘You wanted to see me, didn’t you?’ he said softly.
‘Not now I don’t.’
‘No? You’ve been to see little Joey. Now he may have told you stories. No truth in them. His head’s totally fucked.’ The language was more shocking because of his gentle tone. ‘Too many drugs. He can’t tell night from day. He’s a junkie. He sees things. Things that aren’t there. Sad bastard. You should forget everything he said.’
And if I don’t? I didn’t speak. There was plenty I wanted to say but I thought it wise to keep quiet. Silence as a form of self-defence. All I wanted to do was for him to leave.
‘Little girl not at school?’
A wave of rage. For a moment my eyes blurred red and I couldn’t see him. I forced myself to remain still and silent, refusing to meet his eyes, knowing that I’d see in them the hot glint of the bully underscoring his threat.
‘Forget it.’ He turned and walked away.
I rushed to the car and got myself and Maddie inside the house, anger searing my belly like burns from an iron. I locked the doors and settled her with some bread and soup, doses of medicine, drink and a video. All the while the impotent fury bucketing around inside me. How dare he, the bastard, how dare he!
Chapter Twenty-Six
I wouldn’t sleep but at least I should eat. I felt nauseous but it would help to have some food. There wasn’t much in and for a moment I felt a tantrum of disappointment start. Wasn’t it about time Ray did his share of the shopping? Why didn’t he notice we were getting low on supplies, why did I always have to tell him? Oh, get on with it, I chided myself. I made fried egg and mushrooms and cut thick slices of bread. I gobbled it up, drank two mugs of tea and had a banana.
Fortified by this mega-snack, I dialled Mrs Deason’s number. Let it ring fifteen times. No answer. I rang Detective Sergeant Hatton at Bootle Street, the man I’d talked to previously about the case. I told him that I wanted to report that I was being intimidated by a witness. I had their name and the registration number of their van.
He heard me out and said he would make a note of it.
‘Will that be a formal complaint?’
‘Not as such. You’d have to come in and make a statement in person.’
I felt exasperated. ‘I can’t do that today,’ I said, ‘but I’d like to make it official as soon as I can.’
He assured me he would keep my call on record.
Rebecca Henderson was delighted that I’d got the low down on Debbie’s stalker. I gave her all Gary Crowther’s details.
‘Well done, Sal,’ she said. ‘It’s taken a bit longer than we hoped but I can move on this straight away now. Send me your bill.’
‘I will, and I’ve the letters here – I’ll forward those as well and the photos I’ve done.’
‘Good. I’ll be in touch. We’re snowed under – should be plenty more work coming your way.’
‘Great.’ I needed more work. After all, both my cases were over now, bar the paperwork. I was relieved at her promise of more jobs, though I hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with too many Debbie Gosforths. I checked the number for the house where Debbie was staying. Her friend answered the phone and I gave my name and asked to speak to Debbie.
‘Debbie, I’ve got some good news. We’ve got the name and address of the man who has been harassing you. I’ve passed it on to Rebecca Henderson and she’ll be able to get the court to issue an injunction to stop him bothering you.’ I didn’t get into what might happen if Crowther ignored the injunction and went his own sweet way. It was common for stalkers to persist; there were calls for a change to the law to protect people from vicious and persistent harassment.
‘Who is he?’ she asked simply.
‘He’s called Crowther, Gary Crowther. Ring any bells?’
‘No.’
‘He’s living in Ayres Road, off Upper Chorlton Road, d’you know it?’
‘Near Alphabet Zoo?’
‘That’s right. He lives there next door to a charity shop. You ever been there?’
‘No.’
Still no lead to what linked Crowther to Debbie or how he’d come to pick on her.
‘It’s best if you stay with your friend until you hear from Mrs Henderson that Crowther has been served with the papers.’
‘Right,’ she said. Plenty of monosyllables. Was she numb from her medication or stunned by my news?
I wondered how to end the conversation.
‘If you’ve any questions about the injunction or you need any more information, you can talk to Mrs Henderson, you’ve got her number.’
‘Yes.’
‘Goodbye then.’
‘Bye.’
Well, we’d never been bosom pals, had we? It’d been a strange case. I’d never known what to make of Debbie Gosforth, though her situation had my every sympathy. And now I was getting my own taste of being hunted.
Maddie was engrossed in her video. I collected dirty clothes from the children’s room and added them to the load in the wash basket. I put the lot in the washing machine and switched it on. While I was clearing up the kitchen I tried to think calmly through the situation I was in but fury – mixed with fear – kept bubbling up at Siddiq’s bald threat.
What did Rashid want me to do? Clam up on what Joey had told me? It was too late for that, but I deduced that Siddiq didn’t know about the tape or my meeting with Pitt. They’d been keeping a watch on me but they wouldn’t expect me to be out and about on the job before school. Hah! I felt a little flame of victory at their mistake.
I rang and spoke to Mr Pitt’s secretary, told her I’d been threatened and that I’d spoken to the police. I asked her to make sure Mr Pitt was informed, and for him to contact me immediately there was any news about the Luke Wallace case. My standing in her eyes had obviously shifted, due mainly I think to Pitt’s reassessment when I’d threatened to cry negligence to Luke. Now we seemed to be on the same side.