Black Wood (32 page)

Manipulating me. Manipulating Claire.

*

‘Claire, you need to calm down.’ Gray took the handles of her chair and pulled her back into the centre of the room. She was ranting, screaming.

‘I need to talk to her,’ she shouted, directing her voice down the corridor towards Jo, locked in the interview room. ‘Jo,
please
 … tell me you didn’t hurt him?’

‘Claire, that’s enough.’ Craig spun her round to face him. ‘You need to calm down, you’re going to make yourself sick … Claire? Claire?’

Gray pushed Claire out of the way and crouched down until they were at eye level. Claire’s face had gone slack, her eyes lolling back into her head. He turned back to Craig, a shocked Rob standing by his side. Lorna was behind the counter, her face drained of colour. ‘Call a bloody ambulance,’ Gray shouted at her. ‘Now!’

At that, the front door swung open and PC Beattie burst into the station, panting with the exertion. ‘Sarge, it’s Jake. He’s awake … and he’s talking.’

The air was heavy with the echoes of muffled voices, the rattling metal of squeaky-wheeled trolleys. That familiar smell of antiseptic and over-boiled veg.

I stared at Jake in the bed, hooked up to the beeping monitors, and I remembered Claire. Small and scared, oblivious to the fact that the boy who had come to visit had been partly responsible for her being there.

He must’ve sensed me, because his eyes opened as I approached the bed.

‘Hello,’ he croaked.

‘Hi … How do you feel?’

‘Sore. You?’

‘Sad.’

He closed his eyes again.

‘Do you want me to go?’ I said.

‘Don’t be stupid. It’s just the lights in here. Too bright.’ He raised a hand, and I took it and squeezed it and he opened his eyes again briefly as he said, ‘Ouch.’

‘We can’t do this any more, Jake,’ I said. I sat down on the chair next to his bed. ‘It’s not fair on Claire.’

‘I always thought she knew, Jo. I didn’t think we’d hidden it very well … the whole
enemies
thing …’

I nodded. ‘She’s no idea. I’m sure of it. She’s too trusting. She’d never believe we’d do that to her. Or maybe she’s in denial – just like with everything else. She must remember something about what happened in the woods that day.’

‘Doesn’t matter now anyway,’ he said. ‘Once the police question me and I have to tell them about the stupid fucking
shit
that I’ve been up to, I doubt she’ll still want me anyway.’

‘Oh, so I get to keep you, do I? The booby prize …’

He laughed quietly. ‘That’s not what I meant. Anyway, it’s time for a fresh start, I think. Sort myself out. They want me to speak to a shrink in here, find out how messed up I am … Any tips?’

I picked up his hand again and nipped the flesh. ‘Don’t joke. They’ll help you. In fact, I think it’s about time I spoke to one myself. It’s been too long. I don’t think my meds are working any more. I haven’t been myself lately. What Scott did … it threw me. I should never have got involved with the whole Maloney thing …’

‘Are you being charged?’

I frowned. ‘I expect so, although your evidence that it was self-defence will help. I killed him, though. I have to live with that forever, no matter how much of a bastard he was. Not to mention a murderer himself. Anyway, they’re keeping a close eye on me. Gray’s managed to get me on house arrest at his until I go to court on Monday. He was supposed to be going out for a curry tonight – first time in months, apparently. He’s well pissed off that he’s got to babysit me.’

‘I bet he’s delighted, Jo. He’s always had a soft spot for you …’ He paused, waiting for me to respond. When I didn’t, he continued: ‘Listen, I’m pretty tired now. Do you mind if I go to sleep?’

‘Course not, don’t be daft.’ I leant down and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Oh, er … Claire says she’s coming in to see you tomorrow. Hope that’s OK?’

‘Jesus … Of course it is. I really didn’t think she’d want anything to do with me after all this.’

‘Must be that charm, eh. What’s happening about you and the police, by the way? Are they charging you with assault?’

Jake opened his eyes wide, tried to shake his head, despite the pain. ‘I didn’t assault anyone, Jo. I told you that. I told them that too, although I don’t think they believed me …’ He paused. A dark shadow seemed to distort his features, just for a moment. Then it was gone. ‘Yes, I admit – I frightened those two girls up at the Track,’ he continued. ‘I got a kick out of it – their scared faces … It was like when I used to shoot rabbits and watch their startled eyes … When Gareth came back, something snapped inside me. I can’t explain it. We used to go hunting together, when we were kids … but he was, I don’t know. He was weird, Jo. He scared me—’

A thought struck me then. Christ, I’d been so stupid. ‘It was you, wasn’t it? The other night in the woods. Lurking there. Trying to freak me out. You scared me, Jake. I thought it was Maloney. What was all that about, eh?’

Jake put his hands to his temples, squeezed as if he was trying to crush his own skull. ‘I just wanted to know what it was like to be him. I thought … I thought when he came back, he’d come to find me. I thought I was still his brother.’ He started to cry then, an angry sob. ‘I’m just so fucking tired, Jo.’

I leant in and took his hand. ‘It’s OK, Jake. It’s going to be OK. Listen, I’ve got to go. Feel better soon … I’ll come and visit again. When I can.’

‘Jo, wait …’

I turned back. ‘What is it, Jake? I have to go …’

‘Don’t you want to know about the masks? The sheep masks? Don’t you want to understand?’

I shook my head sadly. ‘It doesn’t matter now, Jake. It’s over.’

He fell back into the pillows and I left him there, staring at the ceiling.

He
was the black sheep. Just like me.

Gray was waiting for me outside, an expectant look on his face.

‘Well?’ he said.

I shook my head. ‘He didn’t hurt Laura, Davie. I know he didn’t. He’s a bit of a prick sometimes, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly …’

Gray frowned. ‘Well, if it wasn’t him, Jo, then who the hell was it? There’s no one else in the frame. He planted that balaclava on Scott … There’ll be forensics linking him to those shoe prints at the Track, I know it. Who’s he trying to protect? Anyway, it’s out of my hands now. CID are all over it. They’re looking into Jake … as well as you. And Maloney, of course. You know they’ll be searching Black Wood. Digging the place up …’

I shrugged. ‘I don’t care about any of that. I just don’t want Jake getting the blame for attacking Laura. He’s damaged, Davie, but he’s never hurt me. He’s never hurt Claire. Well, not physically anyway. Jesus, me and her have got a lot of talking to do.’

Gray said nothing and I continued babbling. ‘Will I go to prison, Davie? For what I did to Maloney? He would’ve killed me, you know … after he’d—’

He cut me off. ‘I know, Jo. You don’t have to tell me again. Jake’s backed up your story too. They’ll be able to tell that it was Maloney who fired the gun. What you did to him … well, it was bad, Jo. Really bad. But you’ve got a good solicitor there. We’ll do everything we can. In the meantime, though, you’re staying with me until your hearing on Monday. I’m hoping you’ll get bail, but you know I can’t guarantee anything.’

I nodded. ‘I appreciate you looking out for me, Davie. I know my mum would’ve wanted it.’

Gray blinked, and I was sure I saw a tear at the corner of his eye.

‘You’re spot on about that, Jo. There’s so much I need to tell you about your mum. She wasn’t bad. You know that, don’t you? Your dad had a hold on her from the minute they met. Anyway, like I said … not now. Right now, we’re going back to mine. Someone needs to look after you …’

I opened my mouth to protest and he raised a hand to silence me.

‘It’s non-negotiable, Jo.’

He turned to leave, and I glanced back at Jake before following him out.

As he walked across the potholed tarmac towards the car, I took my phone out of my pocket. Scrolled through my contacts until I found the one I wanted. Hit
dial
. As I waited for it to connect, I ran a finger across my eyebrow. Felt the tiny bristles of hair that were already pushing their way through the skin.

‘Jo? Where are you? Are you OK? Is Jake OK? Did—’

Her voice sounded strained. I could tell she’d had one of her episodes again. She was going to have to see someone about those. I’d make her.

‘Get Rob to give you and Craig a lift, Claire. Come round to Davie’s. We need to talk. A lot.’ I hung up.

I caught Gray’s eye as he climbed into his car. He gave me a small, sad smile.

There were things I needed to say to him too.

Pete took his time walking home. He was in no rush. He wanted to savour the time on his own. He walked round the side of the house, opened the back gate and tiptoed into the garden. He tried hard not to make a sound. The lights were off, the house bathed in darkness. This meant that his dad was still out, and if he was out on one of his nights out where he drank too many whiskies, he wouldn’t be back until late. This was good for Pete, because even though his dad never came down to the shed, he was worried about having the light on tonight.

Because tonight was a special night.

Pete closed the gate quietly, stopping briefly to listen for sounds coming from the neighbours’ gardens, or anyone out at the Track. He knew that people had been avoiding it at night, since the thing that happened to the girls.

He knew he’d been good. He’d done the right thing, taking the masks down to the police station. He had to punish Jake, for shouting at him and not acting like his friend.

Because Jake
was
his friend. They’d met three hundred and twenty-three days ago – all thanks to his dad. Sometimes his dad
did
do nice things. It made up for all the times he just shouted and screamed and told him he was a useless
excuse
for a son. Pete didn’t really understand why he would be an excuse for son. He
was
a son. Sometimes his dad said things that didn’t make sense.

Pete had gone to a school in Edinburgh that was full of kids who didn’t get on very well at the usual schools, like the one in Banktoun. Some of the kids were in wheelchairs, or they spoke in funny strangled voices, or some were just like Pete – which was normal, but
not normal
(as his mum used to say, before she gave him a big squeezy hug). He’d never really understood what that meant either.

When he left school, Pete told his dad he wanted to be a bus conductor so that he could check the tickets and because he knew all the bus routes in the whole of Scotland off by heart. His dad had laughed at this and told him that buses didn’t even have conductors any more, but that didn’t make sense because then who checked that people had the right tickets and knew where to go?

Anyway, his dad had got him an even better job than being a bus conductor, and because of that he got to do loads of really cool things –
and
he got to meet Jake, who was his best friend in the whole world.

One time he’d thought that Anne was his best friend, but he realised he’d made a mistake with that. Because she was his dad’s friend, wasn’t she? His special friend. He’d seen them together that night. Heard them laughing together, although Anne’s laugh had sounded funny and not the usual one she did when she was with him, and she’d been saying, ‘Don’t be daft, Martin, you know I don’t want this …’ and Pete didn’t understand what it was that she didn’t want. That was why he had followed her.

He followed her to the park. He wanted to know what she didn’t want, and he wanted her to be his special friend. Not his dad’s! His dad had loads of friends. Anne was supposed to be his! So he had grabbed her and cuddled her, but she hadn’t liked it and she’d run away from him and she fell, and that was when he got a bit scared and ran back home.

He never told anyone what had happened.

That was in their old house, though, when they lived near the park. He was sad that Anne had never come round to look after him in the new house. He’d asked his mum about it and she’d told him he didn’t need a babysitter any more, and she was right because after that his mum and his dad never went out at the same time, and then not long after that his mum had got ill and then she had died. He missed her. He missed Anne too. He was just glad he was still allowed to go and see her in the shop.

He’d loved going to his job. He still didn’t know why his dad had told him he wasn’t allowed to go any more, since that day the policeman had come to the house.

He remembered the day he started. He replayed it over and over in his mind, like watching a really good film like
Star Wars
or
The Empire Strikes Back
.

When the car pulled up outside the gates, Pete had started to feel all sick in his stomach. It had started at home in the morning. A strange squirmy feeling like wriggling worms.

‘I don’t think I can go in, Dad, I’m not feeling well. I’m scared I might be sick …’

Being sick scared him. He remembered the horrible scratchy pain in his throat from after it happened one time when his dad had made him eat prawns for dinner. He hadn’t wanted the prawns because they were pink, but his dad said that when they were in the tomato sauce they’d be red and that they’d look just like baked beans … and they sort of did, but they’d tasted really different from baked beans and just before he went to bed that night he started to feel dizzy like the room was spinning round and round and then he was sick. He’d been so scared of the sick when it came out, yellow and hot, and his dad had promised him he wouldn’t ever have to eat prawns again, so Pete thought that meant he wouldn’t be sick again. But he’d felt sick again, sitting in the passenger seat of the car outside the gates to his new job at the big yellow factory where they made lawnmowers and things for all the farms, like baling machines and even tractors. Or so his dad said.

‘Don’t be daft, Petey – it’s just butterflies … You’ll be fine when you get in there. Think about all the things you’ll be able to do … You know they have to count out hundreds of nuts and bolts and all sorts of stuff like that to make those machines? I’ve got you a job as the chief counter – they’ll all be coming to you for the bits they need. Give it a go, eh, son?’