His face is very red now. Derek Ross leans across and puts a hand gently on his arm. ‘OK, Leo?’
‘Can you tell us,’ I say, ‘what happened after that? Did you hear your mum calling for you?’
His voice is very small, so small I have to lean forward to catch it. ‘She was downstairs.’
‘But you didn’t try to go down? Were the flames too big?’
He shakes his head.
‘Weren’t you frightened? Didn’t you realize you could get hurt?’
A shrug. ‘They wouldn’t care. They only cared about Daisy. Not me. They wanted to give me back.’
I sense Everett looking at me. She knows as well as I do what I have to do next. Even though I hate myself for doing it, even though I can’t predict the damage I might be causing.
‘Leo,’ I say gently, ‘do you know what the word “adopted” means?’
He nods. ‘Daisy told me. She said I wasn’t really her brother. She said that was why no one loved me.’
Two large tears well in his eyes and start slowly down his cheeks.
‘That was a mean thing for her to say. Were you having an argument?’
He nods.
‘Was it the day she disappeared – is that when she said it?’
‘No. It was ages ago. In half-term.’
So around two months ago. About the time Leo started acting up. About the time he started lashing out. Small wonder. Poor little sod.
‘Do you know how she found out?’
‘She was listening. They didn’t know she was there. She was always doing it. She knew lots of secrets.’
I gesture to Everett. Her turn, now.
‘Tell us about the day that Daisy disappeared,’ she says softly.
More tears, silently welling. ‘I was angry at her when she ran away and left me with those boys. I shouted at her.’
‘So you had another argument? What did she say?’
‘She said she had another brother. A real one. She said Dad had a proper son he was going to see instead of me and he didn’t need an adopted one any more.’
‘Did that upset you?’
His eyes are down. ‘I knew they didn’t care.’
I can see the distress in Everett’s eyes now. There’s more pain in this room than one small boy can withstand.
‘So what happened when you got home?’ Everett says eventually. ‘Did you see Daisy?’
His eyes flicker up to her face. ‘It was like I said. I didn’t want to see her. I don’t know what happened. I had my music on.’
‘Leo,’ I say, struggling to keep my voice steady. ‘You told us just now you were really angry at her. Are you sure you didn’t go in her room when you got back? We’d all understand if you were still angry – she said some really mean things to you. I’d be upset if someone said those things to me. And sometimes, when people get angry, someone gets hurt. Are you sure that didn’t happen to Daisy?’
‘No,’ he says. ‘It was like I said.’
‘You got angry at school, didn’t you? With one of those boys who were bullying you. You tried to put a pencil in his eye.’
Leo shrugs. ‘He was hurting me.’
‘And didn’t something else happen, the day before Daisy disappeared? When you were at the Connors’ house, trying on each other’s costumes?’
Leo flushes. ‘I didn’t mean it.’
‘Mr Connor told us that you hit Daisy. That you went for her with some sort of wizard’s wand.’
‘It was a sorcerer. Wizards are for kids.’
‘But that’s not really the point, is it, Leo? Why did you want to hit her?’
‘She’d been saying mean things about me. The girls were laughing.’
‘So – did that happen again the day of the party? She said mean things again, and you got angry again, and you hit her? Did she fall over perhaps and hit her head? I’d understand if that’s what happened. So would DC Everett. So would Derek.’
He shakes his head.
‘And if something like that did happen to your sister,’ I continue, ‘I’m sure you’d be really sorry. Sorry and sad. And the natural thing to do would be for you to go to your mum and tell her. I’m sure she’d want to help you fix things. Is that how it was, Leo?’
I can only imagine what’s going on right now in the room next door. But I don’t care.
Leo shakes his head again. ‘She’s not my mum. Daisy’s not my sister.’
‘But did she help you – did your mum help you fix things after your argument with Daisy?’
‘I told you. I didn’t see Daisy. She was in her room.’
Everett and I exchange a glance.
‘So it was like you said to start with,’ I say. ‘You got home and Daisy’s music was on, and you never saw her again.’
He nods.
‘You were in your own room, with your own music on.’
He nods again.
‘So you were wearing your headphones.’
He hesitates.
‘I had my music too.’
‘Your music and your headphones?’
‘Whatever. I hate them. I hate all of them.’
And he probably just wanted to drown it all out. And who can blame him. He’s crying hard now. Really hard.
I reach forward and gently, very gently, take his hands and push back his oversized sleeves. The oversized sleeves he always wears, even in this heat. He doesn’t try to stop me.
I look down at the lines across his flesh. I’m guessing it started soon after he found out he had no family. The doctor knew and I think the school suspected too. But neither of the people who were supposed to love and care for him noticed anything was wrong. Poor little Leo. Poor bloody Jamie. Poor abandoned lonely boys.
‘I know what these are, Leo,’ I say softly. ‘I had a little boy once, who did this.’
I sense Everett stiffen beside me. She didn’t know. No one knew. We didn’t tell anybody.
‘It made me very sad and it took me a long time to understand because I loved him so much, and I thought he knew that. But I do understand now and I think I know why he did it. Doing this hurts less than all the rest of the hurt, doesn’t it? It makes it feel a bit better. Even if only for a little while.’
Derek Ross reaches across and puts an arm round the sobbing little boy. ‘It’s OK, Leo. It’s OK. We’ll sort it out. We’ll sort it all out.’
* * *
—
In the corridor, Sharon is already waiting. Waiting and blazing.
‘How dare you,’ she says, coming up far too close and pointing a long red nail. Those are new too. ‘How bloody dare you try to drag me into all this – if that stupid kid did something to Daisy, I knew nothing about it. Right from the start you’ve been insinuating I’m a bad mother, and now you’re actually suggesting that kid killed my daughter and I helped him fix it? I helped him cover it up? What gives you the right – what gives you the bloody right – ’
‘Mrs Mason,’ begins the lawyer, alarmed, ‘I really don’t think – ’
‘And if I were you,’ she hisses, ignoring him and bringing her face even closer to mine, ‘I would think twice before I started throwing accusations at other people about how they bring up their kids. After all, my daughter’s just missing. Your kid is dead.’
*
4 April 2016, 10.09 p.m.
106 days before the disappearance
5 Barge Close, sitting room
Barry is watching an American cop show on TV. He has a can of lager on the table beside him. Suddenly the door flings open and Sharon storms into the room. She’s holding his leather jacket in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.
‘What the bloody hell is this?’
Barry glances up, sees what she has and reaches for his can. ‘Oh, that.’
‘Yes. That.’
Barry shrugs. The nonchalance is perhaps a little forced. ‘She’s just a little kid cutting out pictures from magazines. They all do it at that age. She doesn’t know what it means.’
‘She’s not that little any more – she’s eight.’
‘Like I said, it’s nothing.’
Sharon’s face is red with fury. ‘It’s disgusting, that’s what it is. You think I’m thick, but I’ve got eyes in my head. I see the way you pick her up – the way you have her in your lap – and now this – ’
Barry puts down his can. ‘Are you seriously telling me I can’t pick up my own daughter?’
‘Not the way you do it.’
‘And what the fuck do you mean by that?’
‘You know exactly what I mean. I see the looks she gives you – ’
‘She looks at me like I’m her bloody father.’