Gone (20 page)

Freeman gave him a gentle smile. Maybe that’d explain his need to help other teenage girls. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. Ben just nodded and looked into his tea.

‘A lot of people who do this job, or who volunteer, are ex-addicts. Often the kids will respond to them more, but I don’t think it’s necessary. Doctors don’t know what it’s like to suffer from all the diseases they heal,’ Ben said.

‘Is that how you see yourself? As a healer? Like a doctor?’

Ben shook his head. ‘No, not really. I’m sorry, that sounded very pretentious, didn’t it? I just meant that you don’t have to have been through an experience to want to help. You don’t need—’ Ben stopped and seemed to struggle with finding the right words.

Freeman decided to help him. ‘I understand,’ she said, wanting to move on. ‘Let’s get back to Jenny. You said she was difficult, but how was your relationship with her? Did you know her well?’

‘No,’ Ben said. ‘I didn’t get to know any of them well. I’m not there to be their friend.’

‘Not any of them?’ Freeman asked, thinking about Emma.

‘No,’ Ben repeated. ‘You can’t get involved. I don’t think it would end well. There’s a certain intimacy involved sometimes if the client divulges information about their personal life. Some of them see you as a sounding board, often the only person they can talk to . . . but a lot of the time it’s lies.’

Freeman watched Ben turn his mug in his hands, his tea swilling about. She didn’t like the way he was steering all her questions, making them into generalisations rather than discussing Jenny directly. She wondered if it was a habit borne of his profession – keep things impersonal, don’t discuss the client – or whether he had something to hide. ‘So Jenny told lies?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘Yes, I think so. Like I said, she wasn’t really ready for help. She couldn’t be honest with me because she didn’t want to be there.’

Freeman took out her notebook. ‘Jenny was arrested a couple of times. One was a drugs charge, amphetamines, and the other was for soliciting.’ She looked up at Ben as she said this. He swallowed and gave an almost imperceptible nod. ‘On that second charge, she asked for you to come and pick her up.’

She watched the muscles in Ben’s jaw work and waited. He nodded again, this time more certain. ‘Yes,’ was all he said.

‘Was that usual? For a client to do that? Especially one that you weren’t friends with?’

Ben shook his head and opened his mouth to speak when his mother shouted from upstairs. ‘Excuse me,’ Ben said and hurried away.

Freeman sighed. Did his mother have some kind of radar that picked up when Ben was uncomfortable? She could hear muffled voices, movement. She stood up and walked out into the hallway. The place was run-down, hadn’t seen a paintbrush in years. She stuck her head into the living room. There were pictures of angels on the walls, crystals on the mantelpiece. She wondered if they were Ben’s or his mother’s. She guessed at the former. He had the look of an ageing hippie.

On top of the ancient TV was a framed photo of a teenage girl. His sister, she presumed. Freeman picked up the picture and saw a pretty blonde girl, maybe twelve years old. Before the drugs got her.

She put the photo back and returned to the kitchen. An image of Darren sprang to mind, playing Nintendo, jumping up and down on the settee, pissed off she was beating him. Ordering a massive pizza when their parents were out. Him eating most of it, far more than a boy of his size should’ve rightfully been able to manage. His short, skinny body, made worse by drink and drugs. She wondered if Darren had come across someone like Ben in prison. Her brother would’ve hated him. Would’ve called him a stupid bloody hippie. She almost laughed. She missed him. Wished things had been different. That she’d made different choices. That
he’d
made different choices.

‘Sorry about that,’ Ben said, interrupting her thoughts.

Freeman nodded, almost smiled at him. ‘So, we were talking about Jenny and her arrest.’

Ben’s face reddened and he stared down at the table. ‘It wasn’t something I made a habit of. I never did it before or after Jenny. I can’t say most of the people who came through the clinic would even
think
of me to come and get them. I’m not sure why she asked for me. Or why I went.’

‘But?’ Freeman said, wishing he’d get to the point.

‘But Jenny seemed to think I was, I don’t know,’ he said and threw up his hands. ‘I think she thought I was a soft touch. And maybe I was. Am. But I think she thought that I could somehow get her out of things. That that was what I was there for. If she had trouble with the police I could sort it. If she needed money I could get her it.’

‘You gave her money?’

‘No, of course not.’ Ben stood and tipped his drink down the sink. He picked up her mug and did the same, switching the kettle back on. ‘Maybe that’s why she went to the clinic in the first place. Maybe she was under the impression that it was a place that handed out drugs or gave addicts money so they wouldn’t have to rob pensioners.’ He shrugged and turned back to Freeman. ‘When they called me to go and get her I didn’t know what to do. All they said was she’d asked them to call me. Like I say, maybe I am a soft touch. I got the impression she didn’t have anyone else. She hadn’t mentioned her family much but I figured they weren’t in the picture any more.’ He sighed. ‘I suppose I thought, what if it was Kerry?’

‘Your sister?’ Freeman guessed.

‘Yes. I suppose it always came down to that. What if Kerry was in that situation? What would I do? What would I want other people to do? I couldn’t just ignore Jenny.’

‘So what happened?’

Ben stirred the milk into the tea and came back to the table. ‘I went to the station. Picked her up. I tried to talk to her but she wouldn’t say much. I dropped her off at a friend’s and left.’

‘That was it?’ Freeman asked.

‘That was it.’

‘And that was June 1999?’

Ben shrugged. ‘I couldn’t say for sure.’

‘So did she come back to the clinic after that?’

‘Yes, she came a few times over the next couple of weeks. She was quite aggressive to start with.’

‘In what way?’

Ben seemed to consider his answer. ‘I think she was embarrassed about that night, about calling me for help. That was hard for her, asking for help. So she put up a front, was abusive.’ He caught Freeman’s eye. ‘Not physically. She just shouted and screamed for a while, called us names.’

‘Us?’

‘Me and the other people at the clinic, the police, anyone who was in the vicinity.’

‘And then what?’

‘I let her get it out of her system and then asked her what she wanted. She told me she wanted to get off the drugs for good.’

‘Did you believe her? You said you thought she was wired to be that way, a user.’

Ben sighed and rested his hands on the table in front of him. ‘It was the first time I’d seen real emotion from her. I thought maybe she was ready but again maybe
I
just wanted her to be ready. I made her appointments, pencilled her in regularly. I thought if I showed confidence in her she might stick with it.’

‘But she didn’t?’ Freeman asked.

‘She did. For a while.’

‘And she was clean?’

Ben smiled. ‘Not totally,’ he said. ‘But that’s how it works. We didn’t do cold turkey. We couldn’t be with clients twenty-four-seven, we weren’t a rehab centre. It was a longer process for us. But she seemed to be trying.’

‘And then?’

‘And then she stopped coming.’

‘So when was the last time you saw her?’

Ben looked up at the ceiling. ‘I can’t say for sure. Late June, maybe.’

Freeman nodded. She’d checked Jenny’s file. The last appointment Jenny had attended was 28 June.

Ben looked at Freeman. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. ‘I’m afraid I can’t be more helpful.’

Freeman shook her head. ‘No, that’s fine. So the last time you saw her was June. Can you remember the last time you saw Emma?’

Ben’s face darkened. ‘I told you, I don’t really remember.’

‘Okay,’ Freeman said, making a note. ‘And then you left in what, July?’

‘What’s that got to do with it?’ Ben snapped.

‘Just trying to establish a time frame. Find out who saw Emma last.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘But I have no idea what happened to her.’

Chapter 45

10 June 1999

Lucas closed his eyes again. He couldn’t look at her as she went down on him. Couldn’t think about how low he’d sunk. He could’ve done much better. But she was there. And she was desperate. She’d do whatever he wanted her to. Do anything she was told. But he still couldn’t look at her. She disgusted him. He could focus on the hair, pretend she was Emma. But it didn’t work. Emma was gone.

It was taking forever. He wanted to stop. Shove her away. Tell her to get the fuck out of his flat. But he’d started. Might as well finish. Might as well get something out of having her filthy mouth on him.

He barely made a sound as he finished. She sat back and wiped her mouth, smiling. So fucking pleased with herself. Lucas zipped up his jeans. She tried to grab him, probably wanted him to return the favour. Not in a fucking million years. He pushed her away and went to the settee, turning on the telly.

She was standing in the doorway, half-naked, trying to get his attention. He kept his eyes on the screen. Something about antiques.

‘That it, then?’ Jenny said. He ignored her, flicked through the channels. ‘You can fuck me if you like,’ she said, coming up behind him. Wrapping her arms around his neck. He shrugged her off.

‘No thanks,’ he said and got up, heading to the kitchen. ‘You can get your clothes on and piss off.’

Jenny slid onto the settee instead. ‘What? You scared you’ll get
me
up the duff as well?’

Lucas got a lager from the fridge. ‘With all the diseases you’ve got? You’d be lucky.’ He walked back in to find her sprawled on the settee. He stood over her.

‘Come on, Lucas,’ she said, spreading her legs. ‘I wouldn’t kill your baby.’

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

Jenny sat up straight, a grin spreading across her face. ‘Didn’t she even tell you? What a little cow.’

Lucas strode towards her and she backed off, into the corner of the settee. ‘What are you talking about?’ he repeated.

‘That little slapper, Emma. She had an abortion.’

Lucas felt his stomach drop. She was lying. Emma wasn’t even pregnant.

‘Liar,’ he said.

‘I aren’t. Stacey saw her at the hospital weeks ago. Same place I went to before. Said she saw her coming out. Crying like she was the first person to ever kill her fucking baby.’

Lucas could feel his lungs pressing against his ribs. She had to be lying. Emma wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t fucking dare. Would she? He knew she’d gone off again. Had been gone a while. So long he’d got sick of hanging about, waiting for her to show up. Thought maybe she’d gone for good. He’d been keeping his eyes open but wasn’t holding his breath.

Lucas’s fists tightened and he leaned over Jenny, his face an inch from hers. ‘If you’re lying to me, I’m going to hurt you.’

‘I’m not lying,’ Jenny said, her voice shrill. ‘Ask Stacey. She told me she saw her. She was with that freak from the drugs clinic.’

Lucas threw his can of lager at the wall and grabbed his coat. He was going to find that faggot and break his fucking legs.

Lucas waited around the corner for Ben. Wanted to show him what a mistake he’d made by fucking with him, getting involved in other people’s business.

He’d found Jenny’s mate, Stacey, in the pub where she always was – draped over some loser who couldn’t see past the tits to the money-grabbing little bitch she was. She was slurping a cocktail through a straw when he pulled her off the old bloke’s lap.

‘Oi,’ she said. ‘What’re you doing?’

‘Tell me what you told Jenny,’ Lucas said.