After You Die (21 page)

Like blogging, Zigic thought.

‘Did you mention any of this to Dawn?’

‘Christ, no. I wasn’t going to give her any excuse to sack me. I liked Holly, she was a nice girl, easy to get on with. She wasn’t self-pitying, you know? A lot of people are, they turn on everyone around them. Nurses worse than anyone, because we have to do so much for them and that’s really uncomfortable for most people. Holly was a pleasure to look after.’

‘Sounds like she trusted you,’ Ferreira said, and got a cautious nod in return. ‘Did she tell you why she wasn’t going to school?’

‘She didn’t see the point in that either.’

‘But she was a bright girl.’

‘Yeah, she was. Bright enough to realise no one was going to employ her in that condition, even if she had the best education in the world.’

‘There are discrimination laws,’ Ferreira pointed out. ‘Holly had options.’

‘Look, it’s really easy to say that, just like it’s really easy for me or you to say, “Do the physio, one day you’ll be able to move your arms as well as your hands, won’t that be great.” But Holly had gone from being incredibly fit and active to a basically inert lump of flesh – that’s how she described herself. She hated being like that. School, university, job, it was all theoretically possible but she’d have to go out in the world again to get those things and she didn’t want people seeing her how she was.’

Matthew Campbell had suggested as much and Zigic could understand Holly feeling that way. In her position would he have been prepared to open himself up to becoming a spectacle, an object of ridicule and pity?

Siona Croft was staring into her tea, hands clasped under her chin. ‘God, I wish I hadn’t had those beers.’

Zigic wished it too. He’d seen the time sheets, sent over from the agency; Croft was a daily visitor to the house, she even did the weekend shifts. If Dawn hadn’t sacked her she would have arrived there on Friday morning as usual and been unable to get in. Maybe she would have raised the alarm right away. Looking at her Zigic could imagine one of those big shoulders battering through the front door.

‘The agency didn’t mention that Dawn sacked you,’ Zigic said. ‘Did you tell them?’

‘Of course I did. They needed to find someone else to go in there.’

‘They don’t have any record of that call.’

‘Didn’t they send anyone in on Thursday?’ Croft asked. ‘Holly would have needed bathing and medicating Thursday morning.’

‘They claim not to have heard from you,’ Zigic told her. ‘So they didn’t send anyone else.’

Croft took her phone out. ‘I emailed Pauline – she runs the office. Well, she’s supposed to run it. She spends half her time playing online bingo from what I’ve heard and she’s not the sharpest tool in the box to begin with. Look –’ She slid her phone across the table, the screen showing an email sent to the agency’s address a few minutes after ten on Wednesday morning:

Mommy dearest strikes again! I’m out. Better see if Fran’s available for tomorrow
.

‘“Mommy dearest?”’

‘It was just a joke.’ Croft dipped her head, embarrassed now, and Zigic noticed the dark rings around her eyes, incompletely covered by her make-up, and an old bruise on the exposed skin on her shoulder, a distinct grab mark fading to yellow, too old to have happened less than a week ago. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it.’

‘You meant something,’ Ferreira said sharply.

Croft sighed, reached for her tea again and this time she found it drinkable or perhaps she was happy enough to take the burn in exchange for a few more seconds of silence. ‘It isn’t easy being a carer. Doing it for money is challenging enough but in some ways doing it for love is worse, because everyone expects you to be a twenty-four/seven saint. You need to understand that. The demands it makes on you.’

Zigic nodded for her to go on.

‘And it makes you demanding on everyone else too. Dawn wanted the best care for Holly and I don’t blame her. I’d want that for my daughter. But she was beyond picky. She sacked people for nothing.’

‘Turning up hungover isn’t nothing,’ Ferreira said.

Zigic wondered if she realised how ironic a judgement that was coming from her.

‘Did you ever see any sign of Dawn neglecting Holly?’ he asked.

Croft looked at him as if it was a stupid question. ‘No. Never. Dawn was one hundred per cent dedicated to Holly.’ Croft rubbed her arm. ‘They had their arguments but that’s normal. In each other’s faces every day, mother and teenage daughter. It’s going to happen.’

‘What did they argue about?’

‘Petty stuff. Holly couldn’t exactly do the full-on rebellious teen thing. Mostly Dawn was annoyed because Holly never wanted to get out of bed. I think she’d accepted her staying at home but she wanted her downstairs with her. Watching TV or whatever. Holly just wanted to do stuff on her laptop.’

It fitted with what Holly’s physical therapist had told Ferreira and Zigic didn’t doubt Siona Croft’s opinion of the situation within the house. It wasn’t getting them anywhere, though.

‘Did you see anyone hanging around the house on Wednesday morning?’

She thought about it for a moment and Zigic guessed the hangover she’d had at the time wouldn’t have helped.

‘No, I don’t think so. I’d have noticed anyone weird.’

‘Holly’s dad,’ he said. ‘Warren. Did you ever see him there?’

‘No. She talked about him a lot. Absolutely idolised him. I don’t think Dawn appreciated that. She told me he left her while Holly was still in hospital.’ Croft frowned. ‘He sounds like a right shit.’

‘Was that all she said about him?’

‘I didn’t want to pry.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Is that who you think killed them?’

‘We’re keeping an open mind right now,’ Zigic said. ‘But Holly died of natural causes.’

‘Because nobody was looking after her?’

‘I’m afraid so, yes.’

‘Poor Holly.’ She shook her head, sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down on it. ‘This is all that fucking Pauline’s fault. If she’d opened her emails and sent someone else around to see to Holly this would have never happened.’ She slammed her fist onto the table. ‘Useless bitch!’

There was nothing more to say and Zigic motioned for Ferreira to stop the recording equipment, feeling as if Holly’s death had become even more tragic than it was half an hour earlier, even more senseless. It pained him to think how easily she could have been saved.

At first Nathan thought he was dreaming.

This wasn’t his soft, warm bed, that couldn’t be his nan sitting on the side of it holding his hand. She looked sad even though she was smiling and he didn’t want her to go. He squeezed her fingers, feeling the hardness of the gold rings she wore, the sharp points of the stones biting his skin.

‘Do you want something to eat, love?’

He didn’t dare answer in case he woke himself up.

‘How about boiled eggs and soldiers?’

His eyes were open but that happened in dreams. You thought you were awake and everything was real but it wasn’t.

He’d dreamt his mum back to life a thousand times. Hugged her, clutching handfuls of her jumper, the pink one with stars on she was wearing when she died. Felt her kiss the top of his head, smelled her perfume, heard her voice.

None of it real.

And no matter how hard he tried to hold on to her she would always leave him again.

‘Natty, come on, love, time to get up now.’

A tear rolled down his cheek and he knew that didn’t make it real either.

His nana took a tissue out of her cardigan pocket and dabbed at his face. Then he remembered. She’d done the same thing last night when she found him outside her kitchen door, shivering and sick with nerves, tears streaming down his face because he’d fallen coming over her fence from the alley that ran down the back of the house.

‘I’m here,’ his nan said. ‘You’re safe now.’

He hugged her, pressing his face into her shoulder. She smelled just like his mum. The same perfume and cigarettes and hairspray.

‘Alright, that’s enough crying.’ She pushed him away. ‘Bring your cover down onto the settee and I’ll make you boily eggs.’

Nathan dragged the duvet around his shoulders like a cape and followed her down the stairs. She’d put cartoons on the telly but they were too young for him really. He was old enough now to know that getting hit on the head with a hammer didn’t just raise a big pink bump. It killed you.

Don’t think about that.

You’re safe. She said so.

He wasn’t, though.

This was just the beginning and he didn’t know how to tell her what he wanted to do. Why he’d come home.

He wanted to tell her about Dawn but he wasn’t sure he should.

She came back with his breakfast on a tray.

‘There we go. You be a good boy and eat that up.’

There was a glass of milk and two boiled eggs in the cup shaped like a chicken he’d had since he was little. His brother had one as well. Just the same so they wouldn’t argue over them. He ate quickly, hungrier than he’d thought he was, dipping the stale soldiers in the runny yolks. She sat in her chair by the electric fire, smoking a cigarette while she watched him.

When he was finished she took the tray back into the kitchen and he followed her.

‘I wanna go to the arcade.’

The plate slipped from her hands and soapy water splashed her as it landed in the sink. She swore, reached for a tea towel and patted her face dry.

‘You’re not going there.’

‘I need to talk to him.’

‘No.’

‘But I need to tell him something.’

She turned away from the sink and he could see how angry she was. For a second he thought she was going to slap him. Prepared himself for it.

‘Alright, Natty. We’ll go later.’

‘No, I’ve gotta go on me own.’

‘Okay. But let me finish this washing-up first. I’ll come with you on the bus and you can go in and I’ll have a look round the shops. Then we can meet up after.’ She smiled. ‘Is that a plan?’

He nodded.

‘Go up and have a bath first. You can’t go out smelling like that.’

Nathan gathered the duvet off the settee and carried it upstairs again, thrown over his shoulder. He wanted to get back in bed, just sleep. Stay there for days or longer, pretend none of this had happened.

Last night, as the train pulled into Lime Street station, he switched on his phone. Shouldn’t have, didn’t need to, but he did it anyway, wanting to see if Rachel was still after him. If Julia or Caitlin had been in touch.

They hadn’t.

In the bedroom he looked for his phone but couldn’t find it. Maybe he’d lost it climbing over the fence. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need it any more.

He knew how to find the arcade and after he’d gone there he wouldn’t need Rachel or Julia any more. He could come home with his nan, have his tea, watch some telly and go to bed. He would have his old life again.

A few words. That’s all it would take.

You don’t need to be scared.

Nathan ran the bath, feeling weird about having one in the morning, but he knew he smelled bad. He squeezed in purple stuff from a bottle on the shelf and it bubbled fast and thick, the steam coating the window and the mirror over the sink. He wiped it clear with his hand.

He’d ask his nan to cut his hair later. Rachel said it had to be long but he didn’t care what she said now. He’d get it shaved back to his skull how he liked it. You couldn’t walk around this estate with girl’s hair. Not unless you were prepared to fight for it and he wasn’t.

When he turned the taps off he heard them.

His nan talking downstairs. A woman answering her.

One of her friends.

No. You know that voice.

Rachel.

‘… won’t make any difference.’

‘I told him that. But he’s only a boy, he doesn’t understand the kind of people he’s dealing with. He thinks he can talk to them. Thank God he came here first. If he’d gone there—’

Rachel interrupted her, voice too low for him to hear. Nathan crept down the stairs to try and catch what she was saying and realised too late where they were, standing in the living-room doorway, both looking up at him.

‘There you are,’ Rachel said, smiling her dead smile. ‘Well, we’ve had a fun few days, haven’t we?’

He bolted for the front door but she got there first and caught him around the chest, stronger than she looked. Rachel wrestled him to the stairs and sat him down on them.

‘I’m not going with you.’

‘You have to go with her. You know that.’ His nana looked at Rachel and she looked back at her.

‘I don’t need her. I can fix this.’

‘How?’ Rachel asked.

‘I’m gonna talk to him.’

‘Talking to him won’t make you safe, Nathan. It’ll get you killed. We’ve been over this before and I’m not going to argue with you about it again.’ She folded her arms. ‘You know Julia’s been worried sick about you.’

‘I don’t care.’

But he did and he turned away from her so she wouldn’t see that.

Rachel squatted down in front of him. ‘Look, I know this has been hard for you and I know you’re scared, but we’re almost through now. You’re strong enough to do this and when you’ve finished there’ll be nothing more to worry about.’

She was lying.

Her voice always went like that, soft and girlie, when she was lying.

Or maybe she was doing it so his nan would think she was nice and wouldn’t stop her taking him away.

Stupid. She called her to come and get you. She doesn’t want you here, causing trouble, bringing it to her door.

No. That wasn’t right. She wanted him to be safe. That’s why she called Rachel. She was an old woman and she was scared. She didn’t get to run away and be looked after by people the way he did. She was left here with his mess.

That’s why he ran. He needed to sort everything out so they’d both be safe again.

She didn’t know that, though, and that’s why she called Rachel. If he’d told her last night …

Shit. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

He could never do anything right.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

‘What’s he doing?’

‘He’s switched off.’

‘I thought you’d got him on pills for that.’