Scarred for Life (32 page)

But what about the candlesticks? They were such stupid things that she and Adam had never used and likely never would. Who even owned candlesticks nowadays? Adam used to joke that if they bought some lead piping, rope and a pistol, then they could take a knife from the kitchen, plus a spanner from the toolkit, and have a real-life Cluedo set. They’d only kept them because there was so little left after the fire that it felt like they shouldn’t be thrown away. Yet someone had moved or taken them – and Jessica didn’t believe it was Bex.

She lay in bed, eyes open, listening as the wind whistled along the passage at the side of the house. She could hear the bins clattering into each other, perhaps tipping over and sending a sprawl of food packaging and other waste onto their driveway. She wasn’t paranoid, was she? The letter and the missing objects proved it – someone was doing this to her. Weren’t they?

Jessica felt the hand gripping her arm, squeezing gently, shaking her.

‘Jess . . .’

Her eyes shot open in disorientation. Where was she? Who was touching her? In a flash, she grabbed the person’s wrist, blinking quickly and trying to clear her vision.

‘Ow, shite, Jess, it’s me!’

‘Wuh . . . Adam?’

‘Who else?’

Jessica let him go, rubbing her eyes and trying to move her legs. It dawned on her that she was in bed – her bed – but her eyes were so heavy that things didn’t feel right at all. Somewhere there was a beeping noise too.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Your alarm’s going off but you slept through it.’

Jessica finally made her legs obey, hauling herself into a sitting position and picking up her phone from the nightstand before fumbling with the screen until the noise stopped.

‘I never sleep through my alarm – not any more.’

‘I know.’

Adam delicately pushed the hair away from her face; his hand was wonderfully warm against her skin. Jessica reached out to pull him towards her.

‘Are you okay?’ he whispered.

‘I think so. What time is it?’

‘It’s only half seven. I was downstairs and heard the beeping. I thought you’d be up and about but it kept going on, then I realised you hadn’t woken up.’

Jessica clung to him tightly. She constantly teased him about how thin he was but it wasn’t because he under ate, it was simply his natural build. When he was beside her, it made no difference because he was still warm and could hold her the way she needed, her face slotting into the crook of his shoulder as if it was a missing puzzle piece.

The paranoia of the early hours had now dissipated but it was still there in the darkest parts of her mind, niggling away, making her question herself.

She couldn’t believe she’d slept through the alarm. When she was at school, she’d needed her father to come and shout at her that it was time to get up. When she moved to Manchester and lived with Caroline, her sleeping patterns were all over the place – sometimes she’d sleep through an entire day without knowing she’d done it; other times she’d sleep for a couple of hours here and there. Caroline could sleep through anything but Jessica never had that blessing. More recently, she would always wake up exactly four minutes before her alarm went off, regardless of when she set it for. She even started playing around with the time, moving it forward and backwards by a single minute to see if it would affect her body. Instead, every time without fail she would wake up those four minutes early.

To go from that to not hearing her alarm at all was unfathomable.

Adam started patting Jessica’s back gently, letting her know that he wanted to release her, but Jessica wasn’t ready and began kissing his neck instead. She could feel his hands hesitating on her shoulders before tapping her again as he pulled himself away.

Jessica felt stung. ‘Are you—?’

‘I have to go into work early. Sorry.’

‘Oh.’

‘We’ve got time for a really quick breakfast together if you want.’

It wasn’t what Jessica wanted but it was marginally better than nothing. She quickly got dressed, and then joined Adam in the kitchen. He had poured himself a giant bowl of Coco Pops and was shovelling heaped spoonfuls into his mouth. It was his usual pick-me-up but didn’t exactly leave her tingling with affection, or particularly hungry.

Sod him if he didn’t want to kiss her back.

Jessica made herself some toast in a huff and sat eating in silence until Adam broke it: ‘Are you worried about her?’

The question took Jessica by surprise. ‘Who?’

‘Bex. I know you didn’t want to talk about it, but . . .’

‘It’s fine.’

Adam stood, crossing to the sink and rinsing his bowl and spoon, before picking up the empty cereal box. ‘Anything else for the recycling?’

‘I don’t know why you’re so picky over it – everything ends up in the same landfill. It’s just a giant council-run scam.’

‘If it is a scam, then what do they get out of it? Surely it’s more expense to pick everything up separately and then dump it in the same place?’

Jessica ignored him and his stupid logical reasoning, angrily biting into her toast. Bloody smart-arse.

Adam shrugged at her lack of reply and unlocked the back door. He’d only been outside for a few moments when Jessica heard him calling her name. Did he really need help putting the bins out? For crying out loud.

Jessica ate her final mouthful of toast and crossed to the back door, standing in the frame, stunned at the scene of utter carnage. All their bins were lying horizontally, plastic, paper and rotting food in a stinking heap on the ground. The dew had mashed the magazines she’d thrown out into the concrete. Jessica could see scraped remains of meals she’d eaten, bills she’d shredded and thrown out, a skirt she’d decided she was never going to wear again, tissues, some oranges that had gone off, a picture frame that had fallen off the wall and broken. Fragment after fragment of her life over the past fortnight sodden and left on the ground.

Adam was standing a little off to the side holding his hands out in confusion. ‘What on earth caused this?’

‘It was windy . . .’

‘Not hurricane-windy.’ He pointed towards the other side of the street where their neighbours had left their wheelie bins on the side of the road. ‘It hasn’t happened to anyone else’s.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Could it be a fox?’

‘I . . . suppose.’

Jessica had only ever seen one fox in Manchester and that was when she lived in a flat that backed onto a wooded area and a golf course. There was nothing like that around here.

‘I’m going to need some gloves or something . . .’

It was only when Adam stepped back towards the house that Jessica saw the glint close to his feet. She pointed – ‘look’ – but Adam had seen them too. In among everything they had thrown away were their missing candlesticks.

Jessica and Adam exchanged a confused look. It was pretty much the only place they hadn’t checked, but then why would they? Jessica had begun to believe that the unlocked back door was simply Adam’s mistake but now it appeared as if someone had let themselves into the house while Bex had been out, picked up the two shiniest things, and put them in the bin. The only reasoning was that they had done it to mess with her mind – but who would do that?

Together, Jessica and Adam cleaned up the mess in virtual silence. If Adam suspected there was anything else amiss then he kept it to himself. Sometimes he understood her so well.

When they were finished, they had a quick wash-up and then Adam gave her a kiss goodbye and left through the front door.

‘Jess . . .’

This time when Adam called her name, Jessica shivered. She could sense it in his voice: a confused, worried tone that wasn’t usually there.

She made her way out of the front door, not wanting to see what was waiting for her. When she got over the doorstep, all she could do was stare. It should have made her angry but Jessica felt only justification because this confirmed she wasn’t imagining things.

Adam knew exactly what to say again: ‘I suppose this proves it was done by someone who knows you.’

Jessica laughed, feeling a single tear run down her cheek at the same time. She reached out and took his hand, pulling him to her as they both stared. If anyone else had said it in any other context then she would have been hurt, angry, or both.

‘Is someone out to get us?’ Adam whispered, seriously this time.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Bex?’

‘No.’

‘At least they know how to spell.’

Jessica smiled but there was a lump in the back of her throat and another tear. She hadn’t imagined everything: the proof was in front of her, spray-painted along the side of her car in capital letters.

‘BITCH’.

39

Adam said he would take the car to a garage to have it resprayed but Jessica didn’t want to let him do that for her. Instead, she drove just over a mile to the workshop closest to them and sat in the car by the side of the road waiting for the mechanic to turn up while passing pedestrians stared at her. A few cars even beeped their horns in recognition – ‘wahey, there’s a bitch we can taunt’.

Jessica called the station and told Pat she was going to be late due to ‘car trouble’, which wasn’t even a lie – even if he did cough to show how suspicious it sounded. Either that, or he choked on a piece of pastry.

Shortly after half past eight, the mechanic turned up, rubbing his chin with a wry grin. He was younger than her, stubbly, cute. Jessica got out of the vehicle knowing she looked a mess: she’d not had time to sort herself out properly before getting in the car, while there had been a mixture of tears and self-said pull-yourself-togethers. Jessica wasn’t even sure why she was upset; she’d been called far worse and had terrible things happen to her but somehow this felt more targeted.

The mechanic glanced from Jessica to the car, and back to Jessica again. He had dark eyes matching his hair and a grin that she guessed he usually kept for casual lean-ins on the bar when he was trying to chat a girl up. Ten years ago Jessica might even have gone for it.

He finally settled on Jessica, lopsided smirk on his face. ‘So, whose boyfriend did you shag?’

It was so inappropriate that Jessica couldn’t stop herself from laughing. That inevitably brought more tears, which the handsome mechanic with the rough hands was only too happy to indulge with a friendly grin.

Sometimes it was nice to feel wanted, even if it was by a too-young man who likely thought you were a total slapper.

After a bit of what she assured herself was most definitely not flirting, Jessica caught the bus to the city centre and then a second bus out to Longsight. Pat made a point of checking his watch as Jessica finally arrived at the station; her only comfort was that it wasn’t raining. She was about to head past reception towards her office when he got to the point: ‘You’re wanted upstairs.’

Jessica had half-expected it and refused to give Pat the satisfaction of scowling in front of him as she headed up the steps.

This time, Cole didn’t make her wait, waving her in while somehow managing to be utterly dismissive at the same time. ‘Car problems?’ he said, not getting up from behind his desk.

‘I had to take it to the garage.’

He nodded but she couldn’t work out if he believed her. ‘After yesterday’s . . . events . . . Superintendent Aylesbury and myself have decided that your talents would be better used away from looking into Damon Potter’s death. We’ve brought an inspector in from the North district to start all over again. It was thought that a fresh set of eyes might bring a fresh perspective.’

He paused, waiting for Jessica’s reaction, but it was only an official confirmation of what had been going on unofficially for days. ‘Since when?’

Cole didn’t even look up as he replied tersely, ‘About an hour ago – when your shift started.’

When she said nothing, he picked up a printout of an email: ‘We’ve had something come in overnight which you can work on.’

He handed the sheet across and then turned away and began typing. Jessica read through the details of the case – something menial that a DC could do with their shoelaces tied together.

‘Any problems?’ Cole asked, not looking up.

‘Of course not, Sir.’

‘Excellent – then we’ll talk again later in the day. You can let yourself out.’

Jessica said nothing, spinning and walking out of the room. Her first thought was to tell Dave or Izzy what had happened overnight but she knew Rowlands would be under Wanky Frankie’s thumb – hopefully only his thumb – and that Izzy would be busy. Too many people around the station knew they were friends and she didn’t trust anyone other than Izzy, Dave and . . .

‘Archie, my old pal – how are you doing?’

Jessica accidentally slapped him on the back harder than she meant, making the constable partially regurgitate a bit of sausage. Given he had bought it in the station’s canteen, that could only be a good thing.

He coughed up a bit more and then struggled to down a mouthful of water in between splutters. ‘Give over, Jess.’

She had a quick glance around to make sure there was no one nearby and then crouched to whisper in his ear: ‘My office, five minutes.’

Four and a half minutes later and Archie peered around Jessica’s door, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

‘Shut the door,’ she said. ‘And lock it.’

Archie did as he was told. ‘Yaright?’

‘Did you just ask if I was all right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Only a Manc could turn four words into one – “Are you all right?” Anyway, I’ve got a job for you.’

‘Okay.’

‘But it needs to be between you and me.’

‘I won’t say owt.’

‘How’s your memory?’

‘I can tell you who scored the goals at any United match I’ve ever been to. Go on, test me.’

‘No, thanks. I’m going to give you a couple of names but I don’t want to write them down, email them, text them or anything. They also can’t be connected back to me. Are you still up for it?’

Archie was rocking on his heels again in the way he had been when he was ready to square up to Holden. He was excited, thinking it was proper police work for once. ‘Aye, it’s sound.’