Humber Boy B (28 page)

Cate felt it, the weight of what Liz was asking, but also the hopelessness of it.

“I can’t remember, Liz.”

“Then try,” Liz spat. “It’s the least you can do. At least promise me you’ll try.”

75

Ben

“Issi was hoping to see you, son. She’s a bit upset that you haven’t been round to see her.”

Leon folded his paper and placed it on the desk, picking up his tea and taking a sip, “She asks me every day about your nose, and I’m not so good at that kind of thing. You know, I say you’re fine and she tells me you can’t be. Asks me to tell her more, you know, how the police investigation is going and all that.”

Ben shifted the mop beneath his feet, grateful that Leon wasn’t asking him a direct question.

“Thing is, son, if you don’t go see her I’m afraid she’ll turn up here at the aquarium. And if she sees that all I do each day is read the paper and drink tea I’ll be for the high jump, or even worse she might decide that she wants to join me from time to time. And this is our space, isn’t it lad?”

I feel ashamed of myself. Issi looked after me that night, I should have gone to see her, but I’ve been too busy. Too taken up, eaten up, absorbed with Cheryl. I don’t know what she sees in me, I don’t know why she’s even here, but I don’t care. All I care about is how soft she feels, how she moves, her mouth on my skin.

“Ben? Are you listening, son?”

“Sorry. Yes, I’ll go see her as soon as I finish here today, I promise.”

Issi’s face lights up when she opens the door and that makes me feel like a right idiot, that I didn’t give her another thought after she’d dabbed up my blood and placed ice over my wound, given me Michael’s bed, generally looked after me better than my own mother ever had.

“Come in, come in.” She’s breathless as she stands aside, welcoming me back into their cosy home. Once I’m sat in Leon’s armchair she lightly touches my face, twisting my head gently towards the light so she can see it.

“Oh, that’s better! Almost back to your handsome self.”

“I don’t know about that.” I duck my head and she ruffles my hair affectionately. Suddenly, I feel suffocated, like I can’t breathe and I’m glad when she moves away and the moment of tension passes. “I’ll get us a drink.”

Once we’re sipping tea she comes out with it, the question I’ve been dreading. “So what did the police say?”

“They say that unless someone comes forward, they’ve got nothing. They don’t know who it was.”

“Well, that’s not good enough! Did they check the CCTV in the area?”

Issi must be into crime dramas, but I know about CCTV from the Humber Bridge, those grainy pictures of us all crossing. The pictures that were published in the press, of Adam kissing Cheryl just before Noah landed in the water.

“They must have. He was wearing a balaclava anyway, so… ”

I run out of ways to say that he’s not getting caught. Issi looks more upset than I feel and I wonder if she’s thinking about Michael.

“Did anyone get arrested?” I ask. “For Michael’s car accident.”

Her mouth goes small as a pebble and her eyes fix me with a hurt accusation. “Leon told you he died in a car accident?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she says in an outward gust of breath, but her face shows it is anything but. This is pain, this is what mothers feel when they lose a son, and it’s hard to see it up close.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“We’re all sorry. But it can’t change anything.”

“No.”

Michael is there with us, suddenly, a teenager in a Nirvana T-shirt, twirling a key ring in his fingers, his new car waiting outside. I can hardly bear to remain seated, it’s so awful. Then Issi starts to cry, and I don’t know whether to walk out or go to her. So I just sit still, waiting for her to stop shaking, for the tears to stop falling. I feel like I caused it, which is wrong, I’m thinking of another mother, another boy who died. And then I’m crying too, and Issi thinks it’s because of her and she opens her arms to me, I go to where she’s sat on the sofa, kneeling at her feet and we’re both crying, rocking, a grieving mother, a boy killer. And I thank God that she doesn’t know and promise I’ll do anything, anything at all, for her to never find out.

76

The Day Of

“My dad legged it, off to sea like he always does,” Adam said, as if he’d finally accepted the fact. “The twat didn’t even wake me to say he was off.”

“At least you have a mum,” challenged Cheryl. “Mine left us with my dad. Just the two of us in the house, he treats me like his property.”

Noah, who had been listening, sat cross-legged on the floor of the footpath that ran the spine of the Humber Bridge, messing with the laces in his red trainers. “It’s my mum who ignores me. She’s in London, she left me to do whatever I wanted. She doesn’t even care.”

“She organised for my mam to look after you,” corrected Ben.

“Exactly,” Noah sniffed. “No offence, Ben, but if she really cared about me would she leave me with your mum? Everyone knows she’s mental.”

Adam looks up blankly, as if wondering about reacting, then decides he can’t be bothered.

All four of them are silent at this, lost in the mutual agreement that they’re all invisible, neglected. United by the crapness of their parents.

“There’s nothing we can do,” said Ben. “It’s just the way it is.”

But Cheryl had a different view, she had an idea. Suddenly, she jumped up and grabbed Adam, pulling him to the railing. “Come on,” she said. “All of you. Follow me. Let’s make them notice.” Cheryl called, positioning herself directly below the CCTV camera and pulling Adam to her for a full-mouthed kiss, tongues and teeth and eyes wide open. They all gaped: Ben, Noah, the camera with its one all-seeing eye, as Cheryl appeared to devour Adam, her hands on his face so he couldn’t pull away, a kissing technique she must have learned from a film and practiced on a mirror. When she finally released him, Adam reeled drunkenly, staggering back into the railing where he turned to face the water and gave a jubilant whoop.

Cheryl bent over the railing, laughing hysterically, then grasped the metal barrier with both hands and jumped up in one swift athletic movement, twisting as she sat upon it, her bare feet entangled with the metal struts. The towel fell to the ground and she sat in just her swimsuit, hands either side of her body as she leaned backwards, over the water, still laughing madly.

“Would they notice this?” she cried, adrenalin making her brave and stupid.

“Stop!” the word was a struggle for Noah to say, his chest felt tight as he watched Cheryl leaning back. “That’s dangerous.” his eyes were wide as saucers.

Cheryl looked over at Noah, enjoying his fear and the feeling of power it gave her. A wicked expression darkened her face like she might try and do something even more crazy, spooking Noah so much that he had to get away from it. He tried to run, wanting to be safe at home, but tripped over his shoelace and landed flat on the floor. Tears came as quickly as the blood and he curled into a ball, his lip already split and now he had a bloody knee.

Two joggers ran past.

The joggers, a man and woman on a lunchtime run, saw the boy’s tears, the blood, the crazy-looking girl in her swimsuit sat precariously on the railing. Neither stopped. Neither spoke to the children, or to each other. Not until later that night when, back in their own homes, they each watched the nine o’clock news.

A text message:
Oh shit. Did you see the CCTV image? That was them.

Then:
Say nothing. Best not to get involved.

77

Now

FIND HUMBER BOY B:
FOR ANSWERS, NOT VENGEANCE

Silent Friend:
You need to change your header to Humber Boy B: Found.

A person is not defined by what they did in the past, but what they do now. I cannot change what happened to Noah, but I have an opportunity to achieve justice for his family.

Noah’s mum:
Who ARE you? How can you claim to know what we want?

Silent Friend:
Because I know you, Jessica. And I will never let you down again.

78

Cate

Penny finished reading out the latest message and the room fell silent. Ged was the first to speak.

“This Silent Friend sounds like a right nut job.”

“Hmmm,” agreed Steve, tapping his fingers on the edge of his chipped Suffolk constabulary mug. “That’s what concerns me. And we still don’t know who he is, but he obviously has some link with Jessica from the way he’s speaking to her, even if it’s only in his head. And he claims to have found Ben.”

“I think,” said Cate, adjusting her voice so it was both louder and more certain. “In all likelihood, Silent Friend is someone from Ben’s past. These messages sound like someone with a personal reason for involvement. I’ve been working with Ben to try and find out who it could be.”

Olivier leaned forward, lifting his pen. “Good detective work, Cate. We may poach you from the probation service. And do you have a name?”

“The problem is,” Cate admitted, looking at her own notes. “There are several. This crime left many ripples, and so many people were affected. If we are assuming that Ben’s attacker was Silent Friend… ”

“Which at this stage is still an assumption,” Olivier stated.

“Yes, but if we don’t, then the possibilities are so random that I don’t know how we’d fathom the depths. We need to start with something.”

Olivier lifted his chin and then nodded. “Agreed. So, who is on the list?”

“Well, Roger Palmer for one. After the murder, which he witnessed, he never returned to work and had to be signed off with stress. He’d tried and failed to save Noah, maybe he thinks that now Ben is out it is his chance to get justice.”

Steve looked at his notes. “Yes, that sounds possible. We could send someone to speak with him. Who else?”

“Ben’s step-dad, Stuart. And we shouldn’t rule out his natural father, Hugo. An Icelandic trawlerman, who might not like his son’s behaviour.”

“Seriously?” Ged said. “You think the kid’s own family could be behind this?”

Cate sighed inwardly at the assumption that a parent wouldn’t do such a thing, even though most evidence suggested that your own parents were far more likely to hurt you than a stranger.

“After the murder, Stuart sold his story to the papers, said his step-son was evil and he wished he’d never been born. That sounds like one angry man to me.”

“Okay,” Steve made a note on his yellow notepad. “We’ll check him out too.”

“Anyone else?”

“Well, the most obvious people are Noah’s parents, or someone else in the Watts family. After all, they have more reason than anyone. And these public statements on Facebook about not condoning violence could just be game-playing.”

“Hull police have already interviewed Jessica and Dave about the Facebook page, but we could check further,” said Olivier, nodding his assent to Steve. “Even if it’s not them directly they may have some idea of who it is, maybe somebody from their church group, someone from the fundraising committee for the skate park.”

“Agreed,” said Steve. “Good work, Cate. Feels like we’re getting somewhere.”

Cate then braced herself, what she had to say next was the most pressing issue, and she was expecting resistance from all quarters.

“Ben is still a sitting duck. His block of flats is just yards from where he was attacked.” She paused, looked from Olivier to Ged. “I’d like him moved to a place of safety until we’ve established who Silent Friend is.”

Ged slapped the desk with his palm, “It can’t be done. We’re putting too much into this as it is.”

“Plus,” Olivier added, “Ipswich isn’t huge. If Silent Friend is watching Ben, he knows he goes to the aquarium, to your office. We can’t move him, Cate, to do so would only prolong things. We have to be proactive. If we hide him in plain sight we can catch our man when he makes a move.”

“That’s crap,” said Cate, registering Olivier’s affronted reaction but continuing to look around the table. “Ben needs to be transferred, not just from the flat but from Ipswich. We have a massive problem here and we can’t just carry on as if it we don’t, a ticking bomb is about to go off under us, and if Ben ends up floating in the Orwell it will be us who are accountable.”

“Calm down,” said Olivier, reaching a hand across the table to touch hers before realising what he’d done and pulling back.

But Cate was livid. “Calm down? Don’t patronise me, Olivier. Just do what I ask.”

“No, Cate. This has to be a police decision, and you have to respect that.”

Ben wasn’t getting moved, she may as well be speaking to a brick wall.

79

Ben

Back in my flat, I’m standing at the window, looking down.

I catch my reflection in the glass and tentatively tap the tender skin around my nose to see if it hurts when I press. The corner of my eye catches on something, someone moving quickly around a van that’s parked on the marina. I watch until he moves again, this time ducking behind the restaurant sign for the barge that’s moored to my right. Though I can’t see his face, his body movement strikes me as familiar. I think I know him.

“Cheryl?” I call, quietly, as though the person down on the marina can hear me, or in case he’s watching me right now.

“Hmm? I’m just in the bathroom.”

“Come here. Please.”

She must hear the urgency in my voice because I hear her pad up behind me, pausing at my shoulder. “What is it, Ben?”

“Someone is over there. Watching us.”

“Oh, shit,” she walks to the window and I tell her where to look, but he’s gone. “I can’t see anyone.”

“He was quick, but I saw enough. I recognised him. I think it’s Adam.”

“It can’t be. I spoke to Adam an hour ago and he was in the city sports bar watching Hull Rovers on the big screen they have there.”

“Or said he was.”

She concedes the point, but my thoughts circle around what she just said.

“Why were you speaking to Adam?”

Cheryl sighs, her head on one side like I’m being difficult, and steps towards me on her delicate bare feet, stopping when her nose is almost touching mine. I can smell the peach scent of her shampoo, feel the warmth coming from her body.