Sleepwalkers (10 page)

‘Uh-huh.’ Carrie looked around at the quiet house and wondered why she’d been so scared. Ben had been wild, for sure, but he was confused, not angry. Maybe it was knowing all the other stuff about him. She thought back to the first time she was shown photos of him. She had stared down at them on the office desk, trying to work out whether or not she found him attractive, while Diane described his character, his crimes and his cruelties. How different he’d been when he first opened his eyes and saw her. How bashful and charming, so shy and gentle.

Diane returned with the bottle and two glasses. She frowned at the label. ‘Well, I guess something nicer would have been out of character, so congratulations on the authenticity. But now you’re free, less of the supermarket own-brand, yes?’

Carrie didn’t feel free. But she smiled anyway.

‘You’ll miss the kids,’ Diane said, almost sing-song. Carrie nodded. The words kicked hard. She knew the day would come, or at least she knew that she’d been told it would. When she’d first been handed the children, she’d resented their arrival. Emma was only a few months old, Joe was two, and the whole thing seemed like overkill. But the project insisted on him being a family man, so she did as she was told.

‘It’ll be strange without them, that’s for sure.’ The words came from her mouth, but they didn’t sound like her.

‘We suggest you make it a quick clean break. Sometimes, when people know it’s over they can get all gushy. That’s frowned upon. And it’s not fair on the little ones either.’

‘What’ll happen to them?’

‘You know better than that,’ Diane said. She poured the wine and when she looked up Carrie knew that she was expected to apologise.

‘Sorry. Will they be gone tonight?’

‘I imagine so. People will come.’ Carrie took the glass she was offered as Diane raised hers for a toast. ‘To you, Carrie. Exceptional.’

Carrie drank hard. As she lowered the glass, she saw that Diane was watching her.

‘Why did you scream?’

Carrie almost gulped. There was bite in the question. ‘Sorry?’

‘You knew the drill. And if he was really scaring you, you just ask the three questions.’

‘I screwed up. I said I was sorry. Did it disturb the neighbours?’

‘Oh, you don’t have to worry about them. Forget about it, I was just interested. It’ll all go down in the case notes, so you can explain it then.’

‘The neighbours didn’t hear anything?’

‘The neighbours are not a problem.’

There was something about the way she said this that bothered Carrie, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. Diane had other forms for her to sign, other questions and a list of tasks and chores for her to do over the next few days. The wine made her drowsy. She had no idea how late it was now.

‘Go on, you go to bed,’ Diane finally said. She put her hand on Carrie’s cheek. ‘Have a lie-in, enjoy having the house to yourself. Have a soak in the bath, chillax. See, I’m down with the lingo!’ Diane rubbed her hand down Carrie’s arm. ‘We’ll give you the mandatory time off – paid leave – and then we’ll see whether or not you fancy a new case. Something a bit different but the same sort of work. I’m not going to ask you now if you feel up to it, I’m not a monster. But if you’re worried about your future, then don’t be. There’s always a place for you with us. Always.’

Carrie wondered why the phrase scared her more than it excited her. After Diane left, she found herself humming the song ‘Hotel California’ even though she didn’t know why. She went up to the half-empty bedroom and stared at Ben’s discarded clothes by the door. She could hear Joe snoring down the hallway but she didn’t dare go in to see him. She stood half in, half out
of the bedroom, trapped by Ben’s crumpled jeans and the innocent growls of a boy she’d never see again. Her legs shook. Her heart fluttered and tears pushed up into her eyes. She wiped them away, shut the door, took three sleeping pills and climbed into bed. She was asleep within seconds.

When she awoke, Emma was standing by the side of the bed. It took her a minute to realise that this wasn’t right.

‘Mum. There’s a woman downstairs.’

‘What?’

‘Dad’s not here.’

‘Hang on, Em. What’s happening?’

‘There’s a woman, she’s really grumpy. Says you have to come down.’

Carrie’s head was thick and heavy from too few hours sleep and the pills. She dragged a dressing gown around her and stumbled down the stairs. Diane was there, staring at Joe who was munching on a big bowl of cereal. She was still dressed in the same smart clothes, but her hair was down and she couldn’t hide the tiredness behind her eyes. Carrie looked at her: what’s going on? Diane glanced at Emma who stood on the bottom step, watching Diane with a suspicion that was beyond her years.

‘Joe, honey, pour your sister some cereal, will you?’

Joe looked up, about to complain about this outrage, but he clocked his mother’s pale features and red eyes.

‘Come on, Em, Mum got Golden Nuggets yesterday. See?’ He flashed the packet at Emma and she forgot about Diane in seconds.

‘He’s a good boy, your son. Bursting with character,’ Diane said, loud enough for Joe to hear as she led Carrie up the stairs.
Neither spoke as they walked, but the phrase ‘your son’ made it clear enough to Carrie. Something was up. Diane shut the door behind her.

‘Okay. We’re going to keep this running for a few more days.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘This house, the kids, you. It’s still in play – and they’ll be late for school.’

‘Hang on, what’s happened?’

‘Nothing. They just want to wind this down more slowly. So we keep it all as it is until we’re told otherwise.’

‘Is Ben coming back?’

‘No.’

Carrie waited for her to say more. Diane pulled a hair-band from her pocket and tied her hair back. In the daylight, Carrie noticed the lines and wrinkles on those elegant hands.

‘Diane, if he’s not coming back then … well, I don’t understand.’

‘Join the club, darling. When I know more, I’ll let you know.’

‘You’d only be back here if something had happened.’

‘Oh, Lord, they’re always changing their bloody minds, it does my head in to be honest. But a job’s a job. Seriously, you need to get them to school.’

Carrie’s mind was racing and the thought that clicked into focus jolted her.

‘You said he’s not coming back.’

‘That’s right.’

‘What if he does?’

Diane looked down. It was the first time Carrie had seen a chink of weakness and it excited her. Diane adjusted the watch strap on her wrist.

‘If he turns up, we’ll take him away again. People are watching. You have nothing to fear. Alright? You’re perfectly safe.’

‘He got away,’ Carrie said, realisation dawning.

‘You don’t need to be afraid, everything is in hand – except your kids, who should be in uniform by now. And the way Joe behaves, I imagine there’ll be a milk lake on your carpet if you don’t get down there and take them in hand.’ Diane laughed and Carrie could feel how forced it was.

Ben was free. Diane didn’t have all the answers. Anything was possible now.

Carrie’s heart leapt inside her.

‘How long?’ she said.

‘It’ll be back in order in two days, max.’

‘Okay. No problem.’

Carrie walked with Diane to the door then called out loudly as she closed it. ‘Come on, rugrats, or we’ll all be expelled!’

She found she was laughing. She felt stoned. Happiness and relief flooded her body.

Ben was free.

Toby didn’t dare look up as the police car sped through the streets. The men in the front said nothing and the journey seemed to go on forever. Eventually the car slowed and he shot a glance out the window, recognising the neighbouring streets. Nearly home. Finally they parked outside his house and he saw the front door open and his mother hurry out. He didn’t move; the fear of the journey had worn him out.

The cop in the passenger seat turned and looked at him hard.

‘I used to run my parents ragged, kiddo. Then one day, me ma dropped down dead. Undiagnosed cancer, but I still blame myself for it. Even today. If I were you, I’d sort yourself out while you can. You follow?’

Toby nodded and pushed at the car door. His mother was there and she led him inside as his father talked to the cops. He caught a few words but little more. His mum’s sweet perfume felt familiar and reassuring. He let her lead him up the stairs to his bedroom, and lay on the bed, quiet and embarrassed by her matronly concern. She left him with a gentle kiss on the
forehead and he didn’t move for a while. His mind drifted back to his teacher and the camera. It had all happened less than an hour before, but the memories seemed squashed now.

After a bit he got up and went to the window. The cops were just driving off and the road was quiet again. He spotted some neighbours who were looking out from their windows, but they soon gave up, bored. Everything was silent. But when Toby looked down, he saw his father standing by the front door. He didn’t move, he just stood there, watching and listening to everything and nothing. He reminded Toby of one of those animals you see in a nature programme. Sniffing the wind, waiting for prey. Toby leaned back out of sight as his dad turned back and came inside. Toby heard the locks in the door snap shut, one after another.

He went through the motions during dinner. No one spoke much but he could feel his parents’ eyes on him. Things like this had happened so many times before: embarrassing moments and wayward behaviour which could never be properly explained. His parents didn’t speak, he believed, because they’d asked the same questions too many times before and he’d never been able to give them decent answers. He helped wash up, had a quiet bath and went to bed. His father popped his head around the door to check on him. Thinking he was asleep, he left him be and carried on with whatever grownups did late into the night.

Finally Toby pulled the sheets away and went to the wardrobe, opening the door where the full-length mirror hung on the inside. He stared at himself, wretched, and let his pyjamas fall to the carpet.

He looked at his battered body and ran a hand over the
embossed scar tissue along his stomach. Angry and upset, still no closer to the truth despite it all, he couldn’t help the tears that rose up in him again. A naked child, helpless and hopeless.

He dressed himself again and got under the sheets, staring up at the ceiling. Slowly the exhaustion of the day won over. He didn’t want to sleep, he wanted to find some sort of comfort from those heady moments on the bridge, but that all seemed so far away now. He had a memory, though it might be a dream, of a man calming him, offering him some sort of support.
Just close your eyes, kid, you’ll be okay. Close your eyes, squeeze them shut and everything will be okay
.

Toby obeyed the voice of his memory. He felt the lightness in his head and body as it gave over to sleep, felt his mind relax and spin into kinder, safer worlds.

*

Anna was called to the headmaster’s office as soon as she entered the school the next morning. A suspension was on the cards unless she could do a pretty amazing job with the parents. They were coming in, in half an hour.

Mr Benton, the headmaster, had a depressing, characterless office, rather like the man himself. Photos of his wife and children were the only personal details. Otherwise the room was just pine furniture and a tidy, organised desk. Benton was six foot three, naturally sombre, and was known as The Undertaker by the staff. Everything about him was grey.

‘I don’t quite know what you were thinking, Miss Price.’

‘Anna.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Until today, you’ve always called me Anna. Why the formality?’

‘Well, I imagine you know the reason for that.’

Anna had a flashback to her childhood: stamping her feet in front of her father who was dressed in a dinner jacket. He put on his raincoat, ignoring her sulk, then turned back and leaned down, tickling her under the chin. She refused to laugh.

‘Have they said anything about me?’

‘Only that they wanted to talk about this as a matter of urgency. I don’t know if they’ll want you to attend, but I think they should hear you out.’

It was the closest to solidarity she would get from him and she knew it. He pressed her again – a teacher taking a child out of the school without permission. In this day and age. How could he defend her? Anna bit her tongue.

‘It was a serious error of judgement. You have to hold your hand up to that.’

Anna nodded and nodded as The Undertaker droned on. But her rage about Toby’s abuse snarled and scratched within her. And when Mr and Mrs Mayhew were led into the office and The Undertaker grinned obsequiously at them, Anna wanted to scream at them all.

Instead, she stumbled through a muted apology. She knew she should have sounded more repentant, more genuine, but the anger wouldn’t let her do any better.

Michael Mayhew was dressed in a suit and tie. His shoes were polished and buffed. He shifted unhappily in his chair.

‘I allowed my concerns and my – er – my trust in your son to cloud my judgement,’ she continued. ‘In the clear light of day, I should never have—’

‘Wrote this down, did you?’ Mr Mayhew snapped at her. ‘Feels nicely prepared.’

Anna was taken aback by the anger in the voice. She expected him to be defensive, at the very least.

‘I don’t want her teaching my boy. What did she want with him? You’ve done all the right checks on her, have you? If she’s got form for this kind of thing, then you and this school are—’

‘Mr Mayhew,’ interrupted Mr Benton in his most reasonable voice, ‘Miss Price is a valued member of my staff. She’s explained her actions and apologised unreservedly for them. I think removing Toby from her class would only hurt his academic progress. As you know, he’s already struggling with English and to put him in a higher stream would only—’

‘Maybe he’s struggling because she’s not a decent teacher.’

‘I don’t believe that is the case.’

‘If you want I can get a restraining order on her, but I don’t imagine you’d like the publicity.’

‘Mr Mayhew,’ Benton pressed on, remarkably calmly, ‘we’re trying to resolve this in a fair and reasonable—’