They let the police in to see me, of course, and as usual they brought a social worker with them. The feeling that Simon and the rector might protect me from all that had faded during the lecture about our “civilized society,” but it still felt like a betrayal. I didn’t answer their questions. The only thing I said, over and over, until I thought it would drive us all mad, was, “I’ll talk when you bring my friend here. I’ll talk when I’ve seen Spider.”
They tried all the usual stuff: good cop, bad cop; kind cop, irritated cop; sympathetic cop, threatening cop. None of it touched me – I let their voices wash over and around me, while they got more and more frustrated. They brought in a doctor, too, but I didn’t talk to him, either. I was pretty sure once I started telling him about the numbers, he’d have me in the loony bin before I could blink – carted off to a secure ward somewhere, locked up, tranquilized.
There was the sound of movement outside. The door opened to let another woman in: Karen. To be honest, it took me a few seconds to remember where I’d seen her before. The last few days had been so intense, it was like I’d lived a whole different life since I’d left her house.
“Jem!” she said, and half walked, half ran across the room with her arms open. She gathered me to her, and all at once I was back in her kitchen on Sherwood Road, and I was who I used to be, before all this happened. She held me for a long time. There was a lot of emotion from her, in that hug; it surprised me, kind of repulsed me, too, but I didn’t pull away. It was like she’d really missed me – I would have thought she’d be glad for the peace and quiet of the past few days.
Eventually, she let go and moved away a little. “How are you? Are you alright? I’ve been so worried. If you’d only told me…” There was pain in her face, concern.
“I’m alright,” I said, but I was betrayed by the wobble in my voice.
“You look tired. You’re very pale.” She stroked my cheek with one of her pudgy hands. “It’s alright now, Jem. You can come home with me. I expect the police will want to question you again tomorrow, and I’ll be with you, but you can come home tonight.”
Home. The thought of Sherwood Road, the projects, the twins, everything back to normal.
“I’m not going, not without Spider.”
“Of course you must. Jem, you’ve been through a heck of a lot. Let me look after you for a bit. Give yourself a break.”
“I’m going to stay here.”
She frowned. “I don’t think you can, Jem. This is not a place where people live.”
“I can stay, and I’m going to. I’m going to stay until they bring Spider back to me. You’re not going to take me away. You can’t make me.”
She had her hand on my arm now. “No one’s going to take you anywhere you don’t want to go. I’m just asking you – asking, Jem – that you come home.”
I shrugged her arm away. Instantly her face crumpled with hurt feelings.
“I’m not going, Karen. I’m staying here.”
She sighed and shook her head. “You’re not so tough, Jem. One day you’ll realize that, and I’ll be there for you.”
She gathered up her handbag and went to join the others outside. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I didn’t care. They could talk about me all they liked. Whether he knew it or not, Simon had given me something precious, something powerful, a silver bullet to defend myself with. One word: “sanctuary.”
They came back in; Karen, Imogen – the social worker – Simon, and the rector.
“We can’t leave you here on your own,” said the rector wearily.
“Why not?”
“You’re a fifteen-year-old girl. It’s not appropriate.”
“I’ve been on my own for days.”
“Be reasonable, Jem,” Karen chipped in.
“I’m not moving. I can sleep right here. It’s safer than on the street.”
They looked at each other.
“I need to get back,” said Karen. “I’ve got a neighbor keeping an eye on the kids, but…I suppose I could see if she could sleep there.”
Karen looked at Simon and the rector, who nodded. “If you can stay, Karen, we’ll make up a couple of beds for you.”
Karen made a couple of phone calls and there was a bit more faffing about. They were doing that adult thing of talking like I wasn’t there. The rector started mouthing off about me vandalizing the place, but Karen stepped in.
“I’ll be here. I’ll vouch for her. Anyway, she’s not a violent kid at heart. She got into trouble at school, but I think there was provocation there. She wouldn’t be destructive here.”
I just sat still, picking at a flap of loose skin on the side of my thumb. I looked up and Karen caught my eye. She looked at me evenly, but I knew we were both thinking of my room back at her house, smashed to bits the night before I left.
The rector’s wife, Anne, had appeared with a couple of duvets and some pillows, and she and Karen made up two beds on the floor. She’d brought some food, too: packets and parcels that she left on the table.
Then the rector, Simon, and Anne started saying their good-byes. Simon was telling Karen about the facilities, and I tuned out for a while. When I tuned back in, he had lowered his voice, but I could still hear.
“If you’re in trouble,” he was saying, “if you need them, there’s a spare set of keys in the vestry. In the desk drawer. The key to the side door has some yellow tape around it.”
“OK,” Karen said. “Thanks.”
They filed out quietly, down the abbey, leaving through the side door. Beyond them I got a glimpse of the outside world. There was quite a crowd there, and a shed load of policemen. As the door opened, a barrage of flashbulbs went off, like strobe lights at a disco. What the hell was going on? There were people shouting, it was complete pandemonium. The abbey contingent looked shaken, and I ducked back out of view behind the door.
The last one out was Simon, the big bunch of keys jingling in his hand. He paused as he was swinging the door shut, leaving a two-inch gap. “Good night, ladies. Sleep well.” His face twitched into a smile, and he closed the door, the big metal key scraping ’round as he locked it, an oddly liquid sound.
On the other side of the windows, the sky was flashing like fireworks, lighting up the inside of the abbey, too. I leaned against the door, listening to the noise outside.
“Right,” said Karen. “Let’s see what Anne left us, shall we? This is going to be fun, isn’t it. Like camping! Ever been camping, Jem?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
We unwrapped the parcels of food. Anne had brought us sandwiches, homemade cake, potato chips. Karen made us both a cup of tea, and we sat on either side of the table.
I was waiting for the probing questions, the time Karen would want it all explained to her, but for a while she was happy to chatter away about the twins and the media fuss – there’d been reporters camped outside their front door, apparently. I thought she was going to ask about the numbers, all the rumors flying around, but, of course, she asked the question a mum would ask.
“So what’s going on with you and Terry – Spider – then? More than friends now, is it?”
I didn’t want to talk about him, not with her, but I realized that I did want her on my side. Maybe she could help me see him again. So I didn’t tell her to mind her own business, which is what I wanted to do.
“Just friends,” I mumbled, “good friends.” A hateful warmth was spreading into my cheeks. God, it’s hideous when your body betrays you. She saw it, and started smiling.
“But you like him,” she said coyly.
I was bursting inside. Yeah, I liked him. I thought about him every minute of every day. I ached without him. I loved him. All those things I could never say out loud – except, maybe, to him.
“Yeah, I really like him,” I said, trying to keep my voice even, willing the hot skin on my face to cool down and get back to normal. “And I really need to see him again. It’s important, Karen. I need to see him.”