‘What? Ryan! You have to be kidding me. That was your chance to explain everything, you fucking dick! Otherwise you just look like some nutter who was terrorising her and broke into her house!’
‘If I’d have dropped her in it, I’d have dropped myself in it too, about what I did to Effie and stalking her family. And I’m in enough trouble already.’
‘Why didn’t you give them tape recordings of her telling you how to kill yourself ?’
‘They’re still with Janine, Laura’s boss.’
‘Well, why hasn’t she done anything with them yet?’
‘I don’t know.’ I was wondering the same thing myself, as I’d given them to her weeks earlier. Unless she had, of course, and that had sent Laura over the edge and into my flat. I had this awful feeling that she was really gunning for me now. ‘I need you to do me a favour,’ I asked.
‘Another one?’
‘I need you to pick up my car.’
‘Why can’t you do it yourself ?’
‘Because it’s parked outside Laura’s house and my police bail conditions won’t allow me anywhere near her.’
‘Why, of course – where else would it be other than outside the home of the woman who killed your wife and baby and who tried to murder you.’
‘Please don’t start, Johnny.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I won’t. I’m far from starting. I’m done, actually. I’m finished. I’ll drive you back to the flat. I’ll bring your car back, but then I don’t want to see your stupid little face for a while.’
‘Come on, that’s not fair. I thought I’d drawn a line under this, too. I made amends with Effie and put her grades back up after you made me see what I’d done to her. As far as I was concerned, it was all over.’
‘Until you turned up at Laura’s house threatening to kill her.’
‘I was angry and upset! What would you have done?’
‘Called the police and let them handle her.’
‘I told you, that’s not an option.’
‘Because you don’t have the balls to man up and admit your part, you’ve made things a shitload worse for yourself.’
Johnny shook his head as we pulled up outside the flat.
‘This has to be the end of it,’ he added. ‘No matter what she says or what she does from here on, you have to accept the consequences. As much as you hate it, Laura has won. The end. All you can do is hope she sees it that way too.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LAURA
Effie and I sat outside her head teacher Mr Atkinson’s office, waiting to be called in.
The school secretary was photocopying papers in a room opposite us, and cursed under her breath when the machine jammed. Effie looked anxious and nibbled at the skin around her fingernails. She got that habit from me. I brushed her hand away from her mouth.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked.
She nodded, but I wasn’t convinced. She needed a final pep talk.
‘You know how proud of you I am, don’t you?’ She gave a slight smile. ‘I’m so glad you’ve been able to trust me to help you. It’s meant the world to me. We are doing the right thing, so please don’t be worried. I’m right here by your side.’
The door to Mr Atkinson’s office opened and he ushered us inside. I sat up straight and cleared my throat.
‘I’ll get straight to the point. One of your teachers has been making sexual advances towards my daughter.’ I squeezed Effie’s hand and she nodded. ‘I’m not sure where to begin,’ I continued, making myself sound like I was on the verge of tears. ‘Effie’s form tutor, Mr Smith, has been behaving inappropriately towards her and has launched a campaign of terror against me.’
‘Mr Smith? Ryan Smith?’ The poor fool looked utterly bemused.
‘I assume the police have informed you he was arrested three days ago for breaking into our house?’
His eyebrows knotted and he shook his head. ‘No, they haven’t. As far as I was aware, he’s been poorly with the flu.’
‘I’m a volunteer for the charity End of the Line, and somehow Mr Smith has become convinced that our organisation played a role in the tragic death of his wife. It’s quite ludicrous, of course, but it appears that for some reason he has singled me out for blame. And on Saturday he broke into our house and began hurling threats at me. I hate to think what would’ve happened had the police not arrived.’
‘Well, Mrs Morris, um . . . I can’t comment on this until I know the full facts—’
‘These are the facts, Mr Atkinson,’ I interrupted, and passed him my mobile phone so he could see the footage of a raging Ryan for himself. ‘I thought he was going to kill me.’ I blinked hard and dabbed at the corners of my eyes, as if tears were forming. ‘When my daughter arrived home, she was so scared by what had happened that she told me Mr Smith had been behaving inappropriately towards her. She’d been too frightened to say anything before now.’
Mr Atkinson turned to Effie.
‘I appreciate this must be difficult, but can you tell me a little about what happened?’ He took a pen from a pot and began writing on a pad.
‘He’s been keeping me behind in class a lot,’ Effie said, slowly and quietly.
‘Speak up, darling,’ I said. ‘You’re safe now.’
‘He takes me into that office at the back of his class where nobody else can see us, and he talks to me like we’re friends. It was nice at first. He really seemed to care about me.’
‘Right,’ said Mr Atkinson. ‘He probably shouldn’t have been alone with a pupil—’
‘Then recently, when he gave me a lift home in his car, he told me he wanted to have sex with me and started rubbing his hand up and down my leg and touching himself. As he started to pull the zip down on his trousers, I managed to open the door and escape.’
I swelled with pride, a little surprised that she’d embellished the story so convincingly. She looked to me for approval and I nodded.
‘And this happened in his car, you say?’
Effie nodded. ‘I was terrified.’ Now she was crying. They looked like real tears, too.
Mr Atkinson scratched his chin, as if trying to recall what to do to set in motion an investigation. He knew he had a duty of care to all his students, even one branded a troublemaker.
‘This explains why Effie has been acting out in class,’ I added. ‘Her marks only started going downhill when Mr Smith returned to school. Look at her records and you’ll see how the dates line up. It appears to me that Mr Smith has been – oh, I hate this word – “grooming” my daughter.’
‘This is quite an accusation, Mrs Morris, which of course I will be taking seriously. Effie, do you have anything you can give me to back this up? Any eyewitnesses or any evidence at all?’
She nodded. Now it was her turn to remove her mobile phone from her pocket. She opened an app on the screen, and pressed play. A minute later the colour had drained from Mr Atkinson’s face.
‘Would it be possible get a copy of the recording . . . ?’ he said.
I passed him a memory stick. ‘I’ve put the sound file on here for you. So what do you intend to do about this? I wanted to come to you first rather than go to the police or local education authority.’
‘No, no,’ he replied quickly. ‘You did the right thing.’
Half an hour later, Effie and I were driving towards her father’s house.
‘Did I do okay, Mum?’ she asked.