The prospect of sitting at home waiting for a development with only Wiggins to talk to was too much. So I sent Glenn a text. He was over in The Poacher, and asked me to join him.
He sat at his favourite table, tucked in the corner furthest away from the fire. It was the darkest corner, too, and gave him a good vantage point from which to see everyone coming and going, so as soon as I came in, he stood to get my attention.
‘Want a drink?’
‘It should be me getting you one, after everything you’ve done.’
‘Well, when you put it like that, I’ll let you,’ he joked, posing in a mock-hero stance. ‘But seriously, let me get you one.’
After the day I’d had, I could have done with a stiff drink. But my parents had made me promise; and the look of concern on their faces when they had spoken to me made it impossible for me to break my word.
‘I’ll have an orange juice, please.’
‘Nothing stronger? Go on!’
‘No, honestly, orange juice is fine for me.’
He came back a couple of minutes later cradling a pint, an OJ and a glass of red wine between his hands. ‘In case you change your mind,’ he winked.
I gave a single huff of laughter and shook my head.
‘You’re incorrigible. Listen, I’ve got loads to tell you.’
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, taking in all the new information. Saying nothing, simply nodding or shaking his head at bits in the tale. When I told him of Chloe’s reaction, he seemed stunned. Made me go over it again and again, unable to believe it.
‘She must be totally traumatised,’ I sighed.
‘How do you feel about things, then? About James getting arrested again soon? You really never had any clue what James was like before all this?’
‘Of course not! Otherwise I’d never have let him near my daughter. He’s lying, perverted scum. I mean, look at the way he even pretended to be gay.’
‘Some people will say or do anything when backed into a corner,’ Glenn said sagely, taking a slurp of his pint. ‘You must want to kill him after what he’s done to your girl.’
The breath that escaped my lips was shaky. ‘The thought of him targeting Beth. He must have befriended her and winkled his way under her defences so slowly, so carefully. You should have seen Chloe’s reaction – she’s utterly terrified. Oh, Glenn, when he hurt Beth, she must have cried out for me. I wish I could kill him.’
Silence passed as he patted my hand. Then he nodded at my drinks. ‘You’re not going to let that wine go to waste, are you?’
‘Sorry, I don’t fancy it.’
I felt bad that he’d bought it. Then again, I hadn’t asked for it. Glenn was always so generous, buying me drinks; I felt I owed him an explanation.
‘Thing is, my parents and Jacob staged a bit of an intervention yesterday. They’re worried about my drinking, so I made a promise.’
‘What! Bit of an overreaction, isn’t it?’
‘Well…’ I picked at the cardboard of my beer mat. ‘I have been drinking a bit much lately.’
‘You’ve been through a lot. One little drink’s not going to hurt – I won’t tell anyone.’ He grinned at me, that cheeky twinkle in his eyes, that boyish charm working overtime. But today I found myself feeling annoyed.
‘Flipping heck, Glenn, give it a rest, eh? I don’t want a drink.’
He sat back, shocked. Face fallen. ‘Sorry.’
We chatted some more, whiling away the time. But with nothing left to investigate, I was struck by how little we actually had in common. Talk of the good old days seemed ridiculous right now, when any minute I hoped to hear from the police, but we did it anyway. It felt as if we had been over everything already.
At 4.30 p.m. I started to make noises about leaving, because Jacob would be home soon. Then Flo walked in. She spotted us in seconds.
‘Melanie, Jacob said you might be here. I asked him to wait at home while I came to get you. Could you come with me now, please?’
Wordlessly I stood, pulling my coat on while trembling with nerves and excitement. This had to be it. I was too keyed up even to care that it was my husband’s mistress who would be breaking the good news – she’d be out of our lives for good soon, I was sure.
Glenn’s eyes stayed on me all the way out of the door, silently wishing me luck.
I followed Flo in silence across the road. Tempting as it was to question, I wanted to be with Jacob when we heard the news that your attacker would finally be facing justice, Beth.
Inside the house, Jacob sat on the sofa with Wiggins, whole body tensed. He had killed time by making cups of tea for us all, and they sat steaming on the coffee table, no one touching them. I sat beside him, so close I could feel his body heat.
‘Melanie, Jacob, there’s been an important development,’ Flo began.
Jacob’s hands were clenched, and I brushed my fingertips over the back of one. It uncurled and my fingers slid along his palm until they were woven together with his.
‘We’ve made a number of arrests relating both directly and indirectly to Beth’s attack. We’ve also arrested and charged the person responsible for putting her in hospital.’
Jacob gave a laugh of relief. We looked at each other, smiling.
Flo held one hand out. Why was she looking at us like that?
‘You need to prepare yourselves for what I’m about to tell you. What happened is…’ She stopped, searching for the words. Unable to find them.
Beth, what the hell had happened to you and Chloe?
Seventy-Four
BETH
FRIDAY 22 JANUARY
It had all gone wrong. Beth shivered out on the marsh, having run as far as she could and as fast as she could in her stupid platform boots, thump, thump thumping through the frozen mud. Rather than going straight down the RAF road, she had, instead, headed along the sea bank, where she planned eventually to use her more usual route to Fenmere via the other lane. She was too ashamed of bumping into people if she went back the way she and Chloe had come earlier. They would recognise her as the girl who had just made a complete and utter fool of herself. People at school were bound to have seen; they’d all be gossiping on Monday.
Eurgh! She wished she were dead!
She wrapped her arms around herself and trudged on. She was freezing cold, had left her coat and flat boots back with Alison at the rave. The wind picked up. It eddied, as if trying to turn her round. But she wouldn’t go back. At least on the marsh she was safe from people judging her and laughing.
The tide had started to go out, but it was still close enough that she could hear the sound of gentle waves occasionally blowing towards her on the wind, and the infrequent cry of a goose disturbed from its slumber.
The thirteen-year-old had never felt so alone.