Lost Innocence (58 page)

Like any parent I often wonder what will happen to us all in the future, but I have no doubts that Nat will achieve his ambitions. The road is already set for him to go into the law, and since he remains as determined as ever to do so, I’m already looking forward to (or perhaps dreading) the day I have to stand up against my own son in court. As I keep telling him, there won’t be any letting him win then, and he’s promised that in spite of the great age I will have achieved by that time (his words!), he won’t be cutting me any slack either.

It would be unforgivably boastful for me to run on any more about my children, I simply wanted you to be sure of how much I love them. It is my great hope that things will change before much longer in a way that will make it possible for them to visit you again. Monica, I am truly sorry for the heartache I have caused you. I have often felt closer to you than I ever did to my own mother, and I know it’s thanks to you and the influence you’ve had over Alicia that my children are shaping into such wonderful human beings. Please know, whatever happens, that I will always strive to right my wrongs and to overcome my weaknesses so that your grandchildren will be able to feel as proud of their father as I do of them.

Yours, with great affection,

Craig

Nat’s head stayed down as he stopped reading, masking his face, but Alicia could see the slight shaking of his shoulders, and almost felt the cracks starting to open up in his defences. Knowing how close he was to the edge now, she was ready to catch him, and when the first terrible sob was wrenched from his heart her arms closed in fast.

‘I want him back, Mum,’ he choked. ‘I want him back.’

‘I know, darling,’ she soothed, tears starting down her own cheeks.

‘Dad,
Dad
, please come back,’ he cried desperately.

Alicia held him tight and kissed his hair as the force of his grief tore through him. It was racking and convulsing him, dragging him to a place of unbearable loss. He dropped to his knees in his anguish. Alicia knelt beside him and stroked his back as one harsh sob followed another.

‘Dad!’ he shouted again. ‘Please, Dad. Come back. Why did he have to die, Mum? It’s not right. It’s not fair.’

‘I know, darling, I know,’ she said, still crying herself. ‘But what matters now is how much he loved you, and how proud he was of you.’

‘He loved you, Mum. He really did.’

‘I know, darling.’ She knew that now, just as she knew that it really had been over between him and Sabrina. He hadn’t been tearing himself apart, wanting to be with her, becoming so stressed with longing and riddled with guilt that it had ended up killing him. How desperately she wished she could tell him that she finally believed he’d never meant to leave, that she trusted him again and forgave him with all her heart. If only her mother had opened the letter, she’d have known too how truly sorry he was. It would have helped Monica so much to know that. It could have made such a difference to them all, but there was no point dwelling on that now. They couldn’t change what had happened, they could only look forward and feel thankful that she’d found the letter when she had, because it was as though Craig himself had stepped in to help his son at a time when Nat couldn’t have needed him more.

‘I can’t let him down, Mum,’ Nat gasped, his face ravaged with tears. ‘I can’t let all this stop me…’

‘It won’t,’ she whispered, smoothing back his hair as she kissed him.

‘Do you forgive him?’ he spluttered brokenly. ‘Please say you do. I don’t think he meant to hurt you, he just…he just…’

‘It’s OK,’ she said, as his words ran out. ‘Of course I forgive him. This letter has…Well, it’s told me everything I needed to know too. I think we can start grieving properly now for the man we loved and who we know, without any doubt, loved us.’

Later in the day, while Alicia went to collect Darcie from school, Nat wandered down The Close towards the river. Though his body ached, and his head still throbbed from all the crying, he didn’t seem to feel as heavy as he had before, or as tense. Since reading the letter and breaking down in a way he’d never want anyone to see, apart from his mother, they’d sat talking about his father for a long time, sharing their memories and confiding things they’d never told one another before. They’d cried a lot more and laughed, and for a while they’d sat quietly, saying nothing at all as they read the letter again.

Now, as he reached the riverbank, a fine drizzle replacing the tears on his cheeks, he found himself turning towards the footbridge that led over to the Copse. It was the first time he’d taken, or even looked in this direction, since that terrible night. He wasn’t surprised to see that there was no blue and white tape cordoning off the scene now, no police or CSI vehicles cluttering up the road, or crowds straining to get a look at what was happening. It had all moved on long ago, leaving the place leafy and peaceful, the way it always was.

Stepping on to the bridge he crossed halfway and stood staring into the Copse beyond. There was no one else around, and the only sound breaking the silence was of the river trickling over rocks. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want to go any further, or why he’d even come this way, he only knew that his footsteps had led him here, almost as though they had a will of their own.

He wondered if his father could see him now, or read his mind, or feel inside his heart. He felt connected to him in a way he hadn’t since he’d died, but whether that was because of something beyond him, or deep within, he had no idea. It was a debate he’d like to have with his father, whether there was life after death, or something akin. More tears smarted in his eyes as the future yawned emptily without him. He’d never know his father’s opinions on that now, and realising it he felt the terrible loss opening up again and sucking him in.

‘I’ll always be there for you, son,’ Craig said as they walked out of the school gates together. ‘An injustice was done, and we’ve put it right. Never be afraid to stand up and speak if you feel yourself to be right, and be the first to apologise if you find you’re wrong.’

The issue his father had come to the school to help him address was irrelevant now, it was the words he’d spoken that mattered, and the way he, Nat, had taken it for granted that day, like every other day, that his father
would
always be there.

He stared down at the water, and seeing the reflection of the sky he wondered if the feeling that his father was close by right now might actually mean that he was. He wanted to believe it, but at the same time he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to. What would he say to him, he wondered, if he had the chance to say a final goodbye? He didn’t know, he couldn’t think, but then Darcie’s silly poems came to his mind and he swallowed as he smiled self-consciously. ‘
I love you very much with all my might, Having you as my dad means I’m getting things right
.’

Hearing a noise behind him he spun round, and seeing Annabelle standing a short way along the bank, he turned cold inside. Afraid it might be a trap, he quickly left the bridge and started to run back the way he’d come. As soon as he got home he picked up the phone to call Jolyon, needing to let him know that he’d just breached his bail.

‘I don’t know if she followed me, or if it was simply coincidence,’ he said. ‘I just thought I should report it before she does, because the last thing I need is to be arrested again for something I didn’t do.’

Chapter Twenty-Four

It was unusual for Robert to find himself interrupted while working in his study early in the morning, especially by a knock on the door. Generally if someone was looking for him they used the intercom, so it was with a feeling of disgruntlement and dismay that he realised it was probably Sabrina bringing him a breakfast he didn’t want, in an attempt to win herself back into favour.

‘Robert? Are you in there?’

Surprised to hear Annabelle, he immediately got to his feet and went to open the door. She was standing in the drizzle, a raincoat over her head, masking the top half of her face.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked, quickly ushering her in. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to be up yet.’

‘It’s half past ten,’ she told him.

Blinking at the clock he gave an ironic smile, but still concerned about her and what she’d been through the day before, he said, ‘How are you feeling this morning?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m OK. A bit, you know, down there, but otherwise all right.’

Presuming the missing word was sore, he said, ‘Have you taken the painkillers?’

‘I did last night, but it’s fine now. I just feel a bit tired, I suppose, and fed up and …’ She shrugged.

Weepy, he thought, by the look of her, but he didn’t say it. ‘So to what do I owe this pleasure?’ he asked kindly, gesturing for her to sit down on one of his visitors’ sofas.

After perching on the edge of it and bunching her coat on her lap, she waited for him to sit down too, then said, ‘I just thought…Well, actually, I wanted to say thank you for taking me yesterday.’

Touched by her gratitude, and the effort she’d made to come here and voice it, he said, ‘You were very brave and I was extremely proud of you.’

She shifted a shoulder again, but whether it was to be dismissive or because she was embarrassed, he couldn’t quite tell. What he could sense, though, was that she was here for more than a mere thank you, but whatever it was, he’d let her get to it in her own good time.

‘If it was up to me I’d have gone back to school today,’ she said, gazing around the room, ‘but Mum’s arranged for Lisa, you know, the woman from SAIT, to come here this morning.’

‘Ah, yes,’ he said solemnly. ‘What time are you expecting her?’

‘Eleven.’ Tilting her head to one side, she began drawing invisible squirls on the arm of the sofa.

He watched, saying nothing, as he waited for her to summon the words she seemed to be struggling to find.

‘I saw Nat yesterday,’ she finally managed, her eyes remaining on the sweep of her finger.

‘Really?’ he said, keeping his tone mild, though his heartbeat had quickened.

She nodded. ‘I think …’ She took a breath that juddered like a sob. ‘It looked like he’d been crying,’ she said. ‘I mean, it was hard to tell from where I was standing, but that’s how it looked. I expect, I mean, I wondered if it might have had something to do with him going to court yesterday.’

‘I suppose it could have,’ Robert agreed.

Her eyes flicked to him, then away again. ‘So you haven’t heard what happened?’

‘If you’re asking if I’ve spoken to Nat or Alicia, the answer’s yes, and the next hearing is scheduled to take place on the seventh of October. That’s when they’ll set the trial date.’

Her eyes stayed down as a flush of colour spread up from her neck over her cheeks. ‘Do you think,’ she said, after a while, ‘I mean… What if I said I didn’t want to be a part of the trial? Would they just cancel it?’

Treading even more carefully now, he said, ‘That would
probably depend on why you were saying it. If you want to drop the charge…Is that what you’re saying?’

Still not looking at him, she continued circling her finger around the arm of the sofa, until in the end she nodded. ‘I think so,’ she said quietly.

Trying to ignore the leap of hope in his chest, so as not to go too fast, he said, ‘You’d have to be sure.’

Her eyes finally came up to his, and it startled and concerned him to see how deeply troubled they were. ‘I am sure,’ she said, ‘but if I do, everyone’s going to call me a liar, and I’m not. I told the truth about what happened.’

His mouth turned dry. ‘You mean that he raped you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then why would you want to drop the charge?’

She shrugged. ‘Because.’

He waited.

‘It’s just making everyone stressed and unhappy, and if it’s going to affect the rest of his life, and mine…I mean, I know it will, so… It’s not worth it, is it?’

Sitting back in the chair, he gave himself a moment to think. ‘Have you talked to your mother about this?’ he asked.

She baulked as though he was crazy.
‘Noooo,’
she answered. ‘You know what she’s like. She’ll go ballistic.’

Starting to get a slightly better sense of the picture now, he said, ‘So you’re hoping I’ll do it for you?’

Her eyes turned imploring. ‘She’ll only try to talk me out of it, or get Lisa Murray to, and I don’t want to go on with it any more,’ she wailed. ‘It’s just stupid, the way everyone’s getting it all out of proportion and calling people names. It’s not like Darcie did anything wrong, is it, so I don’t understand why anyone’s picking on her.’

‘But this isn’t about Darcie, or calling people names,’ he reminded her gravely.

‘I know that, I’m just saying. All the other stuff about court and prison and getting labelled for the rest of his life…Well, that’s just dumb. It wasn’t as though he really hurt me… all that much. I mean, I’ve survived, haven’t I?’

Deciding to run the extent of his devil’s advocate role, he said, ‘If he forced himself on you, Annabelle…’

‘I don’t want to talk about it any more,’ she cut in sharply. ‘I just want you to tell Mum what I’ve decided.’

He regarded her steadily, still not entirely sure which way to go.

‘Please,’ she added.

He sighed, and pressed his fingers to his eyes. ‘OK, I’ll speak to her,’ he said in the end, ‘but you need to be there too.’

Looking decidedly reluctant, she said, ‘Only if you promise not to leave me alone with her.’

Having to suppress a smile at that, he said, ‘You have my word. So when do you want to do this? Before the SAIT officer arrives, or while she’s here?’

She gave it some thought. ‘I don’t know. What do you think?’

Taking his own time to ponder the options, he said, ‘It might be best to give Mum a chance to get used to the idea before the officer turns up.’

Seeing Robert and Annabelle coming across the garden, Sabrina felt a flash of irritation and unease knife through her head. They were conspiring to shut her out, conjuring up a friendship between them that would totally exclude her. She felt suddenly disoriented, helpless even, like an intruder in her own home.