Текст книги "You Against Me "

Автор книги: Дженни Даунхэм

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She opened her eyes. Tom was still dabbing at himself with tissues over the sink. Their gaze met in the mirror.

He said, ‘Why did you let him into the house?’

She’d thought about this outside, had planned to give some mad excuse – her upstairs revising, the back door open, Mikey forcing his way in, her half dressed and hysterical. But now Tom was asking, the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth.

He got there before she could answer anyway. ‘You fancy him!’

She didn’t deny it. She couldn’t be bothered.

It didn’t take him long to piece a story together – Mikey crashed the party and chatted her up, he knocked on the door today to try his luck.

‘He’s taking the piss out of us,’ he said. ‘They planned it between them. She sent her brother round to spy on us! Can you believe it?’

Ellie didn’t mention that she’d invited Mikey, that it was her who wanted the information, that her plan had horribly back‑fired.

Through the window, the smell of cooking wafted at them. Somewhere, a perfectly normal family was having a perfectly normal lunch. Ellie wished she was with them.

‘I don’t think anything’s broken,’ Tom said. He studied the cuts on the back of his hand. ‘You think we should take photos of this for evidence?’

‘Evidence? You can’t report him. He didn’t attack you  with a bottle.’

He turned to her, his eyes flashing. ‘You think I should have let him hit me? You think maybe I deserved it?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

Tom licked blood from the edge of his mouth with his tongue. ‘I wasn’t going to bottle him. It’s what guys do to protect themselves, to make themselves look hard. I wouldn’t’ve done it. You should know that about me.’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t know anything about you.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

He came up close, leaned down so his face was right over hers. He was so close it was difficult to see him properly. She concentrated on the blond bristle of hair on his chin and the blood beginning to leak from his nose again.

He said, ‘What was he doing in your bedroom?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Why did you have your top off?’

‘What’s it got to do with you?’

He clutched her chin with his hand and swung her face up to look at him. ‘Did you know he was her brother? Did you invite him round knowing who he was and tell him stuff about me?’

‘Like what, Tom? What kind of stuff?’ The cistern was cold and solid at the back of her head. She tried to push him away, but he held her there. ‘Get off me, will you?’

‘Make me.’

She shoved him, but he pushed her back harder and glared at her.

‘So, let me get this right,’ she hissed. ‘He came round here to defend his sister, and here you are threatening yours! And you think he’s the one with the problem?’

He crumpled then. It happened in slow motion. His shoulders sagged first, and then the light went out of his eyes. He looked like he suddenly couldn’t remember where he was and couldn’t even be bothered to try. He moved away from her, leaned against the towel rail and closed his eyes.

He said, ‘You don’t blag your way into someone’s house and punch their lights out.’ He rubbed at his nose, spreading new blood across his cheek.

Ellie felt heavy as she stood up. Her teeth ached and her knee was sore from where she’d slipped on the wet grass. ‘Tom?’

‘That whole family’s crazy. Didn’t you see him? I need you to believe it’s them and not me.’

‘Tom, your nose is bleeding loads.’

It was bright, startling. He tried to catch it, but it dripped through his fingers and splashed onto the tiled floor.

‘Let me help.’

‘I don’t want your help.’

She gave him her place on the toilet seat and got him more tissues. ‘Pinch it here, like this. And put your head down.’

He slumped there, holding his nose. The top of his head was shiny with water. ‘It hurts,’ he said. His voice was nasal and muffled.

‘It’ll stop soon. Here’s some more tissue.’

He gave her the old ones. They were warm and heavy. She put them in the pedal bin, then washed her hands in the sink. There were dots of blood splashed over the mirror. She wiped them with her palm and they smeared pink across the glass. She’d have to clean it properly later.

She dried her hands, went to the cabinet on the wall and scooped out handfuls of cotton‑wool balls – pink, white, eggshell blue – like little clouds. She rinsed out the sink and filled it with fresh water. It was good having something to do, it slowed her pulse down. This is how the nurses must have felt in the First World War,  she thought. Facts seeped into her head as she dunked and squeezed the cotton balls.

The war started on 28 June 1914 and lasted over four years. Total dead: over eleven million. Factors that led to strong feelings of nationalism throughout Europe were… Were what? Ellie leaned on the sink for a moment, a wave of panic in her gut. She’d learned the factors only last week. What was happening to the inside of her head?

She knelt on the floor at Tom’s feet in an effort to calm herself. She made him take the tissues from his nose. ‘It’s stopped,’ she said. ‘Now don’t speak. I’m going to clean you up.’

‘OK.’

‘Shush, no talking.’

She wiped his mouth and around his nose with cotton wool. She dabbed at his eyebrow. He moaned gently as she touched a raw place on his cheek.

There was silence then, a tiny window of time when they looked at each other. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

Ellie felt her insides shift; a warmth for her brother stirred there.

He kept his eyes on her as she blotted at him. ‘You think he does boxing?’

‘Probably.’

Tom’s face softened. ‘He landed the first punch, Ellie. I couldn’t let him get away with that. I couldn’t just stand there and take it.’

She didn’t understand the world of fighting, that’s what the problem was. She’d been looking for subtlety, and there wasn’t any – it came down to daring and bravado. Tom had the better weapon. Tom won. Maybe Mikey didn’t mind about the bottle as much as she did. Maybe he didn’t see it as cheating.

‘He shouldn’t’ve come here. He shouldn’t’ve dared. You know what I mean?’

She nodded.

‘I wouldn’t’ve bottled him. I only wanted to scare him. Did you think I was going to bottle him for real?’

‘I don’t know.’

He smiled. ‘You soaked me with that hosepipe.’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’re a nutter.’

She sat down at his feet and watched him searching for pain with the tips of his fingers.

‘Is there anything here?’ He pushed out his lip with his tongue – it was swollen, as if he’d been stung.

‘Just a graze.’

Tom said, ‘You all right?’

‘Sure.’

‘You don’t look it.’

Her throat contracted and her eyes filled with tears. ‘What’s going to happen next?’

‘I’ll go to court. I’ll get off. We’ll go back to normal.’ Tom looked down at her fondly, the way he used to before any of this. ‘It’ll be all right.’

Twenty‑five

‘It’s always the men. Have you noticed? Any trouble in the world and there are always men involved.’

‘I’m a bloke, Mum.’

‘I know that, Mikey.’

‘Well, it’d be nice if you’d stop slagging us off.’

They’d been at it since they got up, and today was the formal hearing, so they’d all woken early – his sisters listening to Mum as if it was story time, while she told them about every unpleasant bloke she’d ever met. Karyn was lapping it up. If all men were bad, then she didn’t have to feel so alone. Mum was getting off on it too. It was her new way of being close to Karyn.

‘Should you be drinking that?’ Mikey said. ‘I thought we had a deal.’

She ignored him, licked her lips like a starved cat, tipped the glass and knocked another great gulp back. Mikey checked the clock – it was nearly eight. At this rate she’d be drunk before they even got to court.

‘Look around the estate,’ Mum said. ‘At all the jobs women do – bringing up kids, cleaning and shopping and cooking, and that’s before they go out to work. Have you ever noticed how women can do more than two things at once?’

‘I can do three,’ Holly said. ‘Look, I’m eating Coco Pops, putting my socks on and listening to you.’

‘You’re a genius,’ Mikey told her as he leaned over and took Mum’s bottle from the table.

She looked up quickly. ‘Where are you going with that?’

‘I’ll swap you. I’ll make you breakfast.’

‘I don’t want any breakfast.’

‘You need to eat something before we go.’

He had a look at the bottle as he took it upstairs. Tio Nico sherry, £3.50 for half a litre from Ajay’s. Seventeen per cent proof. She must’ve got it first thing, when he was waking the girls up, maybe told herself it was only milk she was going for. Anything that cheap tasted rubbish and a third of it was gone already. He rammed it in his wardrobe and went back down to the lounge. If he could get her to eat something, it would soak the worst of it up.

‘Scrambled egg,’ he said. ‘I’ll make that if you like.’

His mother blinked at him. ‘Scrambled egg?’

‘Yeah, you know – proper food for once. Little bit of onion, little bit of garlic. We’ve got bacon as well. It’ll be nice.’

Mum looked confused, turned back to her glass and knocked the last bit back. ‘If you want to.’

He tried not to listen as she told the girls one of her mad London stories about a bloke called Vivian who was married with three kids and forgot to mention that fact when he gave Mum a ring from the Argos catalogue and asked her to marry him.

‘Humiliating,’ Mum said, as the girls sympathized. ‘I was only seventeen. Maybe that’s what put me off men for life.’

‘I like men,’ Holly said.

Karyn shook her head. ‘No you don’t.’

‘I do. They’re good at cooking.’

Mikey shot her a grateful smile.

‘Cooking’s not the point,’ Karyn growled. ‘Men are like animals, Holly. Think of dogs. No, think of apes.’

‘I like apes.’

‘Yeah, but you wouldn’t want to marry one.’

They all fell about laughing. Charming. Bloody brilliant. Even Holly was turning against him.

Gillian turned up when he was serving the eggs, and even though Mum didn’t want any and Karyn would probably only pick at hers, it looked impressive. He wanted to say, Told you I could manage.  He wanted her to notice Holly’s brushed hair and clean school shirt, but all Gillian had eyes for was the bruise on his face. She came right up and peered at him like a doctor.

‘I heard about this,’ she said.

‘It looks worse than it is.’

‘Still, that’s quite a shiner. Over two weeks ago, wasn’t it? And you’ve still got all colours there.’

Mikey glared at Karyn, because she shouldn’t’ve opened her gob. He knew she wouldn’t grass who the fight was with, because they’d agreed not to tell anyone except Jacko, and she didn’t even know the bit about Ellie being there. But he’d bet any money she’d told Gillian he’d lost. He wondered if the cop wrote it in her case notes – Family lacks male role model. Eldest son a wimp.

‘I like his bruise,’ Holly said. ‘It’s pretty.’

‘Pretty stupid,’ Mum cut in. ‘He went out on a date and came home covered in blood. Wouldn’t tell me anything about it, except the girl already had a boyfriend. You’d think he’d bother finding that out first, wouldn’t you?’

He scowled at his mother. She should be thanking him for waking her up, running her bath and hiding the booze. Of course she was nervous on a day like today, but that didn’t mean she could take it out on him.

‘Any chance of a tea?’ Gillian asked as she took off her jacket.

Blimey, even she was treating him like slave boy now. He banged the kettle about, so she’d know he wasn’t a total pushover, then sent Holly off to get her coat and book bag. Emphasized book bag,  so Gillian would know he was on to that too. Weird to see Karyn shove up on the sofa to let this woman sit down. Only a few weeks ago she didn’t like her, but now she gave her a big smile and offered her a piece of toast.

‘Karyn’s feeling a bit nervous,’ Mum told the cop. ‘So it’s great you could come.’

Gillian nodded sympathetically. ‘I’m happy to. I’ll stay with her until you get back. I can answer any questions she has and we’ll get a phone call as soon as we hear how he pleads.’ She turned to Karyn, patted her hand. ‘You’ll be first to know, all right?’

Karyn nodded. ‘He’s not going to say he did it though, is he?’

‘I’m sorry, darling, but he probably won’t. We’ll keep positive though, eh? We can’t know for sure until it’s over.’

Mikey plonked her tea down – milk, no sugar, just how she liked it. ‘Biscuit?’ he said, because they had some.

‘No, ta.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Are you taking Holly to school now?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘And you know what? She hasn’t missed a day since we spoke.’

She nodded, looked impressed.

The school run was the best thing about the last three weeks. Everything else was utter crap, but getting up early and getting Holly in on time had become a challenge. He was good at it too. She’d only been late twice, and then only slightly late.

Holly came bouncing back in with her coat on and did the rounds of hugs and kisses.

‘I’m coming back for Mum after,’ Mikey told Gillian. ‘I changed shifts at work and my mate’s taking us in his car. The bus to Norwich takes too long.’

‘I don’t know what I’d do without him,’ Mum said. ‘Seriously, he’s a diamond.’

She sounded like she meant it, which was nice.

Holly ended up next to Mikey, her hand curled into his. He liked that. ‘I’ll be back in fifteen,’ he told them all.

‘Well done, Mikey,’ Gillian said.

Even Karyn gave him a fond wave.

Result! He led Holly to the door and got out of there before the balance tipped the other way again.

Twenty‑six

‘I can’t do this.’ Tom’s voice was ragged and seemed to come from far away, even though he was sitting right next to Ellie in the back of the car.

Dad turned in the driver’s seat. ‘You can,’ he said, ‘and you have to.’

‘Where’s the barrister though?’

‘He’ll be here.’

‘And the solicitor? He said he’d meet us in the car park.’

‘I’ll call him.’

Ellie closed her eyes and tried to think of something mundane like a chocolate biscuit or sitting on a sofa. It was difficult to concentrate though, and perhaps a biscuit wasn’t big enough to distract her. She turned her attention to the shopping centre they’d passed on the way in instead. It was across the car park and beyond the court building and soon it would be open and people would go in and buy groceries and newspapers and other everyday things. They’d trail children and carrier bags and moan about prices. It was a comfort to know that the real world would go on in its usual way, whatever happened to her family this morning.

She opened her eyes and gave Tom what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

‘What?’ he said.

‘What, what?’

‘Why are you looking at me?’

‘I dunno.’

‘Well don’t.’

‘All right, Tom, just chill!’

‘Ellie!’ Mum turned in her seat.

‘All I did was smile at him!’

‘Well don’t.’

Ellie slumped back down. She wished she was old. She’d swap her life to be in a life that was nearly over, so long as she didn’t have to be here. You’re the primary witness,  Dad kept saying. You need to show support.

They’d made her wear the skirt and blouse she’d got for Granddad’s funeral. The skirt was black nylon and stuck to her tights with static electricity. The blouse was dark grey. She’d studied herself in the hall mirror before getting into the car.

‘I look like a nun.’

‘You look perfect,’ her mother had said.

They wanted holy. Not red‑hot nail varnish, purple lipstick and a flaming orange mini‑skirt stretched tight around the thighs. Those were not good girl’s clothes.

Tom suddenly sat upright. ‘Who are all those people?’

A small crowd walked through the gate. Nine or ten teenagers heading for the main door.

‘Are they here for us?’ His voice was edged with panic.

Ellie pressed her nose against the window. The little crowd had stopped at the bottom of the main steps. One of the girls looked at her mobile. Two of the boys sat down.

‘The doors aren’t open yet,’ Ellie said. ‘They can’t go in.’

Tom peered past her. ‘That girl in the blue coat,’ he said, ‘I know her from college. And the one next to her!’

He was panicking properly now. He looked desperate and hot and he didn’t seem to care if they all saw him like this. Ellie tried to think of words that would help, but all she could think of were tight, angry words like your fault  and no  and… stop! This is you,  she thought. This is the real terrified you. Did you know this was you before this began?

‘Don’t let yourself be intimidated by that mob,’ Dad said. ‘Come on, Tom, pull yourself together.’

Ellie felt a strange calm descend. If Tom couldn’t cope, then maybe they could go home. Perhaps he’d actually go insane and they’d call an ambulance and then her and Mum and Dad could go for coffee and cake somewhere lovely and forget all about him. Tom took several deep breaths and blew them out again as if he was blowing smoke rings. Maybe he’d hyperventilate. Could you die from that?

‘Why are they even here?’ Tom said. ‘Why would they bother?’

‘I don’t know,’ Dad said. ‘It’s madness. Anyone can come to a public hearing, but what that rabble hope to get out of it, I don’t know.’

Anyone could come? Why the hell hadn’t he mentioned that before? He said it was going to be boring, purely procedural, just barristers shuffling paperwork, over in an hour. You won’t have to speak,  he said. We’re simply going to impress the prosecution with a show of solidarity.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she said. ‘Why didn’t you say it’s a public hearing?’

Her dad swung round in his seat. ‘I didn’t think it was relevant, Eleanor, so don’t you start getting hysterical. The chances of anyone turning up were almost zero.’

‘Look,’ Tom hissed. ‘I know her as well.’ Another group had come through the gate and he stabbed a finger at the window. ‘She was at the house that night. She’s Karyn’s mate. Is she even allowed to be here?’

It was Stacey Clarke. She walked right past the car, so close her coat brushed the front bumper. She was with her friend from the day of the fight and a couple of other girls from school. They joined the first lot on the steps and they all stood there together. It felt like drumming under Ellie’s skin.

She clawed at the back of her mother’s seat. ‘I’m not going in. I can’t.’

But before her mother could respond, someone tapped on the window.

‘Barry,’ Dad said. ‘About bloody time.’

Ellie had met the solicitor once before. He was short and blond and younger than her father. This morning he’d gelled his hair back in a school‑boy slick and was wearing a suit and tie. He didn’t look as if he could save them.

‘Can I hop in?’ he said.

He got in the back, squashing Ellie into the middle between him and Tom. The car must be hot,  she thought. It must stink of fear and sweat.  The windows were steamed up too. She felt claustrophobic and ashamed.

‘How are we doing?’ Barry said.

‘Fighting fit,’ Dad blustered. ‘We just want to get on with it now.’

‘There are a lot of people here that Tom knows,’ Mum said. ‘We wondered why.’

Barry dismissed the crowd on the steps with a wave of his hand. ‘Ah, I wouldn’t read too much into that. People often think formal hearings will be more interesting than they are. They’ll be bored to tears in five minutes.’

Dad turned round in the front seat and smiled at Tom. ‘You hear that? You simply need to put a legal slant on it. It helps to see through a solicitor’s eyes, eh?’

Tom nodded, but he looked pale and shaken and his eyes were still locked on the crowd at the steps.

‘It’ll probably work in your favour,’ Barry said. ‘The very undramatic procedure will put them all off, so they won’t bother turning up for the big one.’

He launched into a little speech then. He sounded cheery and certain as he wittered on about prosecution statements and lists of evidence and how a trial date would be set for about three months’ time. The barrister was inside, he told them, talking to the judge in his chambers. Ellie imagined them both wearing dressing gowns and slippers and smoking cigars. There would be wigs on a stand and a lollopy dog on a rug.

‘Right,’ Barry said, ‘I think that’s everything. So, are we ready?’

They had to get out of the car and into the glare of the sun that splashed across the car park, they had to walk past the crowd and up the steps.

Tom ran a hand across his head, backwards and forwards. ‘This is it,’ he said. ‘This is actually it.’

‘Yep,’ Dad said.

Barry nodded.

Mum turned round in her seat. ‘Soon be over.’

But her eyes were a tired shade of blue and she didn’t sound convinced.

Ellie wanted rain as she got out of the car. She wanted a low charcoal sky with great dark clouds blotting out the sun and thunder rumbling low above the court house. Instead, the sky was blue with a few drifting clouds the colour of old piano keys. She felt a weight settle on her shoulders and the back of her neck.

In twenty‑five years this will be over,  she thought. I will be far away and no one will remember.

Barry marched ahead with Tom and Dad, as if hurrying would solve anything. Ellie and her mum followed a few paces behind. Ellie touched her mother’s sleeve to slow her down. ‘I’m scared.’

Mum put an arm round her and held her close. Ellie wanted her to say, You know what? We can’t make you do this. It’s not fair, you’re only a kid. Why don’t I take you home?

But she said, ‘Try not to let them bother you. Come on, love, Tom needs us.’

Then she took her arm away, tilted her chin at the crowd and kept right on walking towards them.

In that moment, Ellie realized no one could help her, because every member of her family had to save their strength and resolve for themselves. They were all alone in this, like four separate islands following Barry across the car park.

She felt self‑conscious, as if her legs were spindles, as if her clothes were being judged, as if her body wasn’t coordinated. She slowed right down, hyper‑aware of every movement, every glance, every word from the group of teenagers on the steps. They had an alert energy, as if they were ready to leap. They whispered behind hands, unblinking, nudging each other. Ellie could imagine what they were saying. That’s him, yeah. That’s his mum and dad, and that girl is the sister – yeah, the sister.

Stacey pointed at Tom as he got halfway up the steps. Right at him, as if he was on a TV programme and couldn’t see her.

‘Do you recognize him?’ she said to her friend. ‘You remember him now?’

Ellie stopped completely, scanned the car park hoping for violence – tanks would be helpful, or battalions of soldiers to blast the curiosity off everyone’s faces with machine guns. But there was nothing. No one to help.

OK, she’d have to pretend it wasn’t her family being talked about. Most of these kids were from Tom’s college – she didn’t know them and they didn’t know her and she’d never see them again after today and they’d get bored if she didn’t react. She simply had to walk past them, it wasn’t so bad. Tom was through the doors, so were Barry and Dad, and no one had lynched them. Mum was going through now, and apart from a couple of sneers, she got safely inside.

But Ellie felt as if she was stumbling, as if her shoes didn’t fit and she’d fall. Her cheeks were stained with shame and she hated it. She wanted a blanket to hide under, like in the movies. As she put her foot on the first step, Stacey put her leg out, not to trip her, but to stop her.

‘Hey, bitch,’ she said.

‘Leave me alone.’

‘Don’t you want to ask me how Karyn is today?’

‘I just want to get past.’

‘Don’t you want to tell me how sorry you are again?’

Ellie stepped to one side, but Stacey moved in front of her. ‘She’s still refusing to see her friends, you know. She’s still totally terrified.’

‘Please, I have to go in.’

Stacey shook her head. ‘If your paedo brother pleads not guilty today, she’s gonna have to sit through a trial. How do you think she’s gonna feel then?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You want to give it some thought?’

Someone in the crowd giggled. Why were there no adults? Why were there only kids? Stacey stared at her. ‘I’m asking you again – why did you tell the cops you never saw anything?’

Ellie stared right back. The building in front of her swung, and still she couldn’t let go of Stacey’s gaze.

‘Leave it,’ her mate said. ‘She’s not worth it.’

Stacey looked Ellie up and down, as if she was checking that was true, then dismissed her with a flick of her eyes. The crowd laughed, loud jeering laughter, right at her as she ran up the rest of the steps and through the doors.

Barry had said it was court number two. She saw a sign, ran past the reception desk and up the stairs. She heard whispering behind her from people coming through the doors and following her up. But it was all right, because there, on the top landing, was her mother. Ellie ran to her, clutched at her arm and pulled herself close.

‘Mum!’

‘Ellie, don’t grab me. I’m talking to someone, can’t you see? This is Mr Grigson, Tom’s barrister.’

There was reverence in her voice as she waved her hand at the barrister, as if to say, Isn’t he amazing with his black cloak and his white wig and his important bundle of paperwork?

Mr Grigson nodded at Ellie as if he’d seen hundreds of girls like her already that morning. He didn’t even say hello.

‘Mum?’

‘Ellie, I’m talking.’

‘But Mum, I want‑’

‘If you need the toilet, it’s there – look. Be quick though, we’re about to go in.’

So, how could she say, Mum, I want you to take care of me?

The crowd was pressing up the stairs. Ellie couldn’t bear to meet Stacey again.

‘I’ll just be a minute.’

Mum nodded. ‘I’ll save you a seat.’

Like it was a trip to the theatre, like a seat near the front would be pleasant.

Ellie dived into a cubicle and bolted it, leaned against the door and clutched her stomach to try and stop the gripping pain. She attempted to think of beautiful things – hummingbirds sipping nectar from small flowers in bright places, mountains capped with snow.

None of it worked. Because this would be so much worse in a few weeks when there’d be a jury, when Ellie’s name would be called and she’d be invited to stand in the witness box and swear on a Bible and tell the truth, the whole truth, so help her God.

She vomited everything up into the toilet bowl – toast and coffee, last night’s bolognese. She felt small and transparent afterwards. She wiped her mouth, flushed it all away and sat on the toilet seat shivering. She always cried when she puked, so she knew her mascara was smudged now, and that instead of looking truthful and holy she would look a total mess and no doubt get into more trouble with her parents.

She spun a wad of tissue from the toilet roll and wiped her eyes. Behind her, high up, a thin streak of sun glimmered through the window. She leaned back into it, closed her eyes and let it dazzle her face for a moment.

‘Ellie Parker,’ she told herself. ‘You can do this. Do it for Tom. Do it for your family. Tom’s your brother. He’d never do anything to hurt you.’

She washed her hands and face in the sink, rinsed her mouth and tamed her hair in the mirror. She opened the door a fraction and checked along the length of the corridor in both directions. No one was about, the landing and stairs were empty. The courtroom door was closed. Did that mean she wasn’t allowed in now? No, this was another disaster! She hovered outside, unsure what to do, then decided to go back down the stairs to ask at reception. But as she got to the top stair she stopped because she heard voices and footsteps coming up and a rush of adrenalin flooded her face and chest. She recognized that voice.

Mikey McKenzie looked right at her as he turned the corner of the stairs. His eyes widened with surprise, but all he said was, ‘Hello.’

Ellie nodded, couldn’t speak.

He was with a woman, younger than her own mother, but definitely his mum. The whole family had the same dark hair. She hadn’t dressed up, no make‑up and just a tatty denim jacket over a tracksuit. The three of them stood together at the top of the stairs.

Mikey said, ‘Are you going in?’

‘I don’t know. The doors were open and now they’re shut.’

He shrugged mildly. ‘The woman at the desk said to go in.’

His mother pressed her hand onto his arm and said, ‘Is that the loo? I should pop in there first.’

‘Sure, Mum. I’ll wait for you.’

They watched her go, the door swung shut. Just the two of them now.

Ellie said, ‘Does she know who I am?’

‘No.’

‘Will you tell her?’

‘Why would I?’

‘What about Karyn? Is she coming?’

He shook his head. Stupid question. Of course she wasn’t. She was too scared to leave the flat, didn’t everyone keep telling her that?

‘Jacko’s here,’ he said. ‘He’s parking the car.’

She nodded, knew she was blushing. Voices rose and fell beyond the door.

She knew he blamed her, knew he thought she’d set him up. They stood there awkwardly, and all she could think of were pleasantries – nice weather, how’s work?

‘Your eye looks bad,’ she said. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘Not really.’

‘It’s all bruised still.’

He flicked her a look. ‘You should see the other guy.’

Maybe it was a joke, but neither of them smiled.

She said, ‘I texted you.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Why didn’t you answer?’

He shrugged, looked beyond her to the courtroom doors. ‘I didn’t see the point.’

‘I had no idea Tom would come home when he did. I didn’t mean that to happen.’

‘Yeah, you said in your text.’

‘You don’t believe me.’

He waved a hand at the closed doors. ‘This stinks, the whole thing does. What I did to you was out of order, what you did to me I probably deserved. So we’re even, OK? No more texts. No more anything. Let’s just forget it now.’

He held her gaze for a second. She looked away first.

‘I better go in,’ she said.

He nodded. ‘Yeah, see you around.’

Twenty‑seven

The public gallery wasn’t high up like the Old Bailey on TV, just a few rows of chairs with an aisle between them. There was no whispered hush when Ellie walked in, no tutting judge surrounded by barristers to tell her off for being late, just groups of people sitting around on chairs waiting for it all to begin. Stacey and her mates were in the far corner, and although they stared as Ellie walked down the aisle and squeezed in next to her mother, no one else took much notice.

‘I was beginning to give you up for lost,’ Mum said, and she patted Ellie’s hand, as if everything would be all right now.

It was like sitting in an airless registry office, waiting for a badvibe wedding. There was even an usher, some bloke flitting around with handfuls of paperwork. Tom was in the front row, the groom waiting for his bride. But the bride wasn’t coming. Karyn McKenzie was at home weeping, her wedding dress in tatters, refusing to get in the limo. I won’t marry him, I won’t! He’s cruel and I hate him.