Daniel nodded. There were stuffed toys lined up on the bed. Charlotte bent and picked up Sebastian’s school bag, pulling jotters from the satchel and leafing through the pages where the boy had been commended before thrusting them at Daniel. He glanced at the pages before putting the jotters down on the chest of drawers.
Charlotte stooped, then, to pick up some colouring pens that were scattered on the floor. As Daniel watched her he noticed the neat position of Sebastian’s slippers by his bedside, and the way that his books were stacked with the largest on the bottom and the smallest on the top.
‘He’s an exceptional boy,’ said Charlotte. ‘In maths, he almost never gets anything wrong, and he plays the piano already very well. It is just that his fingers are too small.’
Daniel took a breath, remembering his own childhood and being shown how to play the piano. He remembered the almost painful stretch of his small, young hands to find the chords.
In the hall, getting ready to leave, Charlotte took time to tie a silk scarf around her neck. Again, Daniel was aware of how fragile she was. He watched the beads of her spine appear as she bent to pick up her bag.
He thought of Sebastian waiting in the cell for Charlotte. Again, he was reminded of his own mother: he remembered waiting for her in social work offices and police stations, wondering when she would appear. Only as an adult had he managed any bitterness about those years. As a child he had been grateful that she came at all.
They walked to Islington Police Station, on the opposite side of the road from Barnard Park. It was an exposed stretch of park, with paths and a football field. The only place to hide violence was the adventure playground that ran alongside Copenhagen Street, rimmed by bushes and trees. Daniel knew that the police had already obtained CCTV footage from Islington Borough Council. He wondered what that would reveal. The corner of Copenhagen Street, just past the incident van, was strewn with flower tributes to Ben. Daniel had stopped to read some of the messages on his way to the Crolls’ house.
The warmth and brightness of the morning was forbidden in the interview room. Sebastian sat at the top of the table, with Daniel and his mother facing the police officers. Sergeant Turner was accompanied this time by PC Hudson, a thin expectant man whose knees banged against the desk when he moved. Daniel knew that there was another roomful of police officers listening to the conversation. The interview was being video recorded and watched from another room.
‘OK, Sebastian,’ said Sergeant Turner, ‘what time do you think it was when you saw Ben out playing on his bike?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Can you remember if it was before your lunch or after?’
‘It was after lunch.’
‘It was definitely after lunch,’ Charlotte commented. ‘I made him lunch before he went out.’
The police officer frowned at Charlotte’s interruption and made notes.
‘Whose idea was it to go to the park?’
Sebastian put four fingers into his mouth. He turned his mint eyes up to the ceiling and rolled them back and forth. ‘I don’t remember.’
‘Surely you can remember whose idea it was. He was on his bike and you didn’t have a bike. Was it your idea?’
‘I just said I don’t remember.’
Daniel watched the smallest spasm of rage flame in the boy’s lips. He wondered if it was this which he understood when he looked at Sebastian. Anger was what Daniel remembered most from his childhood: anger and fear. Daniel had never owned Sebastian’s confidence, but there was still something about the boy which made Daniel remember himself as a child.
‘What happened to your hand?’ Sebastian asked Daniel suddenly.
At first Daniel wondered if the boy was seeking refuge from the police officer’s questioning. Daniel shot a look at the police sergeant, then answered, ‘I fell … running.’
‘Did it hurt?’
‘Not much.’
‘OK, Seb, so to get back to your story,’ said Sergeant Turner, ‘one of you decided to go to the park, then what happened?’
Sebastian slumped down in his chair, chin into his chest.
Charlotte began to stroke Sebastian’s leg. ‘He’s very sorry, Sergeant, he’s just tired. This is all so intense, isn’t it, darling? I think it’s just the detail that’s a bit wearing …’
‘Forgive me, Mrs Croll, but detail is my job. Can I ask you to be quiet and try not to answer for him?’
Mrs Croll nodded.
‘So how did you get into the park, Seb?’
‘From the top gate …’
‘I see. Did you start having an argument with Ben when you were inside the park?’
Sebastian shook his head violently, as if to shake away a fly.
‘You’re shaking your head, but there was a witness who said he saw two boys of your age fighting at the top of the park. Did anyone speak to you when you were with Ben – tell you to stop fighting?’
‘I’m so sorry, Sergeant,’ said Charlotte. ‘He just said that he and Ben didn’t have a falling-out. Seb’s just not the type for fighting, are you?’
The sergeant took a deep breath then asked Sebastian if he wanted a break and a drink of juice. When the boy left to go to the bathroom, accompanied by PC Hudson, the sergeant folded his arms on the table. Daniel noticed the fleshy softness of the man’s hands.
‘I know it’s hard, Mrs Croll, but if you could try not to answer for him?’
‘I know, I will – I can, I suppose it’s just second nature. I can see he’s not being as articulate as he could be and I just want to help clear things up.’
‘That’s what we all want – to clear things up. Do you think you might step out for a little bit – have a cup of coffee maybe, just while I go through the rest of the questions?’
Charlotte sat up in her seat and looked at Daniel.
‘It’s up to you,’ said Daniel. ‘Or you could agree to stay, but remain silent. You’re entitled to be here.’
‘You’ll make sure he’s OK?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Of course.’
When Sebastian was brought back in, without his mother, he chose to sit closer to Daniel. He seemed fidgety and Daniel felt the occasional brush of the boy’s arm against his; a foot against his trouser leg.
‘So, you say there was no argument between you and Ben?’
‘No, we were play-fighting for a little bit. We were playing hide-and-seek and chasing each other then when he caught up with me we were rolling in the grass and play-fighting.’
‘Sometimes play-fighting can get out of hand. Is that what happened? Did you take it too far?’
Again, Sebastian’s cheeks coloured with anger. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I didn’t, but Ben hit me a couple of times and it hurt – maybe he didn’t mean to – and so I shoved him off me.’
‘I see. You shoved Ben. What were you doing when the man with the dog called on you to stop? Were you hitting him?’
‘No.’ Sebastian was beginning to look pained.
‘Sergeant, this is getting very repetitive,’ said Daniel. ‘I think you’ll find he’s answered these questions already. Can we move on?’
Sebastian sighed deeply and Daniel caught his eye and winked at him. The boy smiled broadly and then tried to wink back, scrunching up both his eyes.
‘I can’t do that, look,’ he said, his eyes tightly shut. ‘I need to practise.’
‘Never mind that now,’ said the sergeant. ‘After your fight, did you go to the adventure playground?’
Sebastian was grinning with his eyes tight shut and the sergeant gave Daniel a look of exasperation. Daniel cleared his throat and then gently touched Sebastian’s arm.