64
The telephone rang and Sandra Harper went to answer it. Bella was sitting next to her father on the sofa watching television. Will Harper was eating Kentucky Fried Chicken but Bella’s lay untouched on her plate.
Sandra picked up the phone, listened to whoever called and then said: ‘No, we’re not interested. And please don’t call again.’ She replaced the receiver and scowled at her husband. ‘Bloody journalists. That was the Mirror. They just won’t give up.’
‘I don’t know why you answer the phone,’ said her husband. ‘They’re just about the only people who call on the landline. I told you we should have gone ex-directory.’
‘We did go ex-directory, last week,’ said Sandra. She squeezed onto the sofa next to Bella. ‘Are you not hungry?’
Bella shook her head. ‘I had a big lunch at school.’
‘Yeah? What did you have?’
‘Pizza.’
‘Do you want pizza now? I can order one for you.’
‘Mum, I’m fine.’ Sandra leaned closer to her daughter and sniffed. Bella turned away. ‘Mum, don’t fuss.’
‘Are you cleaning your teeth?’
‘Of course.’
‘Your breath smells bad. Really bad.’
‘I’m cleaning my teeth, Mum.’
‘If your breath isn’t better in a day or two I’m going to take you to the dentist.’
‘Okay, okay.’
Sandra leaned over and took a drumstick off her husband’s plate and bit into it.
‘Mum, why don’t you want me to talk to the journalists?’
‘Because they want to talk about what happened to you and it’s best that we forget about it. We have to move on.’ She put her arm around her daughter and gave her a hug. ‘It’s in the past. You’re home now and we’re just going to enjoy that.’
‘But they said they’d pay, didn’t they?’
‘How do you know that?’
‘I heard you and Dad yesterday. You said that one of the papers had offered you ten thousand pounds for an interview and more if you’d agree to a photograph.’
‘You heard me say that? I thought you were upstairs.’ She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She was tired and finding it hard to think. ‘Your dad and I just decided it was best not to say anything to anybody.’
‘Your mum’s right,’ said Will, reaching for a piece of chicken. ‘You can’t trust journalists, everybody knows that.’
‘And we don’t want everyone knowing our business,’ said Sandra. ‘We don’t need to tell the world what you went through, honey.’ She gave her daughter another squeeze. ‘We just need to put it behind us, like it never happened.’
‘But I could tell them that I saw Michael. And Jesus.’
‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea, honey,’ said Will. He bit into his chicken and chewed noisily.
‘But I could talk about that, and you and Mummy would get ten thousand pounds. Maybe more.’
‘We don’t need the money that badly, Bella,’ said Sandra.
‘You could put it towards my university fees,’ said Bella. ‘Put it in the bank to pay my tuition fees.’
‘University?’ said Sandra. ‘You want to go to university?” She exchanged a surprised look with her husband. He shrugged.
‘Of course,’ said Bella. ‘What harm could it do, Mum? I could tell them about Jesus and everything.’
‘What do you think?’ Sandra asked her husband.
Will swallowed and shrugged again. ‘She’s got a point. University’s expensive, we could put the money in an ISA or something. Save it for when she needs it. How many papers have asked for interviews?’
‘All of them,’ said Sandra. ‘And the magazines.’
‘Why don’t you talk to them, see how much they’d pay?’
‘You think?’
Will picked up another piece of chicken. ‘What harm could it do?’ he asked.