‘And did Caroline smile back?’
‘Well, she wasn’t going to be rude or anything.’ Jessica’s forehead was creased and Kate could tell she was afraid of misrepresenting her friend. Even though Caroline was gone, Jessica didn’t want to ‘tell’ on her friend. Like all kids, the code of friendship was stronger than anything else.
O’Connor was watching Jessica’s face intently. ‘Did you two ever see him anywhere other than the swimming pool?’
It was the subtle movements in Jessica’s posture – straightening her back up, her head slightly raised from her shoulders, her facial features tightening – before she delivered her emphatic ‘No’ to O’Connor which told Kate the girl was hiding something. O’Connor obviously got the same impression.
‘Are you sure, Jessica?’ he asked quickly.
‘I said so, didn’t I?’ Jessica looked to her mother.
‘Inspector, my daughter has been through a lot, and now to add to everything, we have police protection outside our door. Believe me, we want to be as helpful as possible, but my priority right now is Jessica, and you can see how upset she is.’
Pushing a witness, particularly one who was a minor, was tricky and O’Connor knew when to back off, but he had no intention of leaving without getting something concrete from the girl.
‘Jessica, do you think you could give a visual description, help one of my guys put together a photofit of this man?’
‘I suppose so, yeah.’
‘Good girl.’ Jessica’s mother put her arm around her daughter. The girl leaned in willingly, looking less like a contestant in a beauty contest and more like a young girl on the brink of tears.
Ellie
BRIDGET MUST HAVE SENSED MY MOOD TODAY; SHE is quiet during the usual morning routine. Like I planned, I say nothing to her about the pen and paper. I wait until I know she is about to leave. She reacts according to form, open-faced, followed by a narrowing of the eyes, as she tries to fathom a motive. But she doesn’t go on about it, just says, ‘No problem’, as if I’d just asked her for an extra bar of soap.
I trust Bridget. I trust that she will come back with what I’ve asked for. Funny when you think about it, that the one person I trust in here is someone I’ve spoken to about little more than the weather.
She came back to me just before lunch was being served in Living Room 1, before the end of her rounds. The copybook she handed me was like the type Amy used at school, small and chunky. She also gave me two ballpoint pens in blue. I looked up at her questioningly.
‘Can’t trust those blasted things, they always stop writing just when you’re in the middle of something important.’
I smiled at her, and I could tell she was pleased.
I place the pens and the copybook at the end of my bed before I go to lunch. As I walk down the corridor, I can smell the scrambled eggs on toast. I know I will force myself to eat it. I have no time for any remarks from anyone today. As I eat, I think only about the copybook and the pens waiting for me, knowing that shortly I will have to return to my room and face them.
≈
I sit on the bed, me, copybook and blue ballpoint pens – quite the little threesome we are. When I was younger, I used to enjoy writing. That was partly why I’d chosen an arts degree at college. I had only just started my first year when I met Joe.
I had been working the Friday-night shift at the cinema. I was pleased when I was told about the extra shift, one of the girls was out sick and more hours meant more money. If not for that, I might not have met him.
At the cinema you met many different sorts. When I met Joe I remember thinking, this guy is some kind of chatterbox. I liked meeting chatty people then, it made the night go in quicker. He had two tickets for Rocky IV and apparently his friend hadn’t shown up. Whether the friend was male or female I never found out. I was behind the popcorn counter when it was his turn to be served and as cheeky as anything, he asked me if I wanted to watch the film with him.