Child's Play (36 page)
Martha
leaned against the ornamental wall in the forecourt, watching Alice kick a tiny pebble across the paving. ‘I don’t think I should bother Superintendent McKenna,’ she told her. ‘He’s got more than enough on his hands already.’
‘
So?’ Alice muttered, her eyes fixed on her feet.
Inwardly
Martha seethed. ‘So as it looks as if we’re stuck with each other for the time being, we’ll go for a walk.’ She pushed herself away from the wall and moved off, stomping down the tarmac path towards the stables, clamping her lips on the angry words trying to force their way out, telling herself Alice was a complex person who needed to find her own answers, whose inner restlessness betrayed itself in the constantly shifting, volatile moods. But whether or not, she argued, she was fated to be both the rock against which Alice threw herself time and again and the haven she sought when the storms exhausted her, the battering Alice was now giving her was beyond all reason. She glanced round, to see Alice trudging behind with her head sunk into her chest, as if a horrible drama were being fought out inside her head, and the anger suddenly evaporated. The girl looked utterly pathetic.
Martha
rounded on her. ‘What’s wrong? Why were you and Daisy trying to beat the living daylights out of each other? What’s
really
going on?’
‘
Nothing!’ Alice went on walking, with a foot-dragging slouch that might be the first sign of impending disability or simply the joyless gait of adolescence.
Scrutinising
her, Martha let the distance grow. She had been Alice’s age when arthritis first showed itself in a swollen, tender knee; diagnosed as such and not the cancer her parents feared, the relief had been enormous, but she had often thought since that if she must be assigned a disease, cancer might have been preferable. By now, she would be either dead or cured.
Alice
stopped eventually and simply waited, staring ahead. When Martha caught up with her, she said, ‘I’m hungry.’
Martha
took two large bars of chocolate from her bag, handed over one and unwrapped the other for herself. She could eat relentlessly now without gaining an ounce, yet at thirteen, as her child’s body began its metamorphosis into womanhood, she had ballooned almost overnight. When her brother died the weight fell away as if it had never been, burned to a vapour by searing grief. More and more, she saw Danny in Alice, in little comforting ways that offered fascinating glimpses of the gene’s power to survive the death of one carrier and the interference of others.
As
they neared the stables Alice’s mood seemed to lift. Her head came up and her step quickened.
‘Where are your new glasses?’ asked Martha.
‘
Eh?’ Alice turned. There was a smear of chocolate at the corner of her mouth.
‘
Your glasses,’ Martha repeated. ‘The ones I paid a fortune for so that you could have the frames you wanted.’
‘
In my pocket.’
‘
Then he careful you don’t break them.’
‘
They
won’t
break! They’ve got those special frames you can even tread on. That’s why they cost so much.’
‘
Yes, well, you don’t need to prove it,’ Martha commented. She followed Alice into the stable yard.
Planting
her elbows on the paddock gate, Alice nibbled the chocolate, holding it in both hands like a squirrel with a nut. When she had stuffed the last of it into her mouth she wiped her hands on the seat of her jeans and, her gaze fixed on the animals, said, ‘Aren’t they gorgeous?’ She turned to her mother with a brilliant smile. ‘Especially Tonto. He looks like he’s jumped through the screen out of a Western movie.’
Martha
regarded the huge, bold-eyed palomino. ‘He’s certainly striking. What’s Torrance got in mind for him?’
‘
Dunno. It’ll depend on whether she stays another year to try for Oxford.’ She picked at a splinter on the top of the gate. ‘I hope she does. She’s offered to teach me to ride.’
‘
Not on Tonto!’
‘
Why not?’ Alice turned sharply.
‘
You couldn’t possibly handle him.’
‘
Stop treating me like a baby!’ Alice flared.
Martha
bit back a sharp retort. ‘It’s hard not to. I’m your mother and you’ll be my baby even when you’re my age — if I’m still around, that is.’ A different emotion crossed Alice’s face then. ‘I expect Daisy’s parents treat her like a baby at times, too.’
‘
I wouldn’t know,’ Alice said dismissively. ‘I’ve never been to their house.’
‘B
ut you’ve met them when they visit the school.’
‘
They hardly ever come.’
‘
Don’t they? That must be pretty miserable for her.’ Martha frowned. ‘Then how do you know so much about them? You gave me chapter and verse on what she’ll eventually inherit from her mother.’
‘
Stop interrogating me!’
‘
I was simply making conversation.’ With another enormous effort Martha kept her voice quite neutral.
‘
You shouldn’t need to
make
conversation with your own child!’ Alice glared feiociously. ‘I’ll bet Gran and Grandpa never had to make conversation with you or Uncle Danny. They already knew everything that mattered because they were always there!’
Martha
glared back at her. ‘They only knew because we used to tell them. So you’d better tell
me
what that disgusting brawl between you and Daisy was all about.’
After
footling about with her clothes for another five minutes, Daisy had announced she was going for a shower. While she waited for her Janet leaned on the window ledge, blowing the smoke from her cigarette through the open window and praying she would not be caught. The gloss paint felt a little tacky under her bare arms. In the corners of the actual frames she could see pinkish stains beneath the white, where rust from the metal was already eating its way through and she thought it rather a neat metaphor for what had happened within the school, for all the gloss in the world could not conceal decay for long.
Daisy
returned, clad in black from head to foot, looking much older and rather malign. Her sudden scowl exaggerated the impression. ‘Why are you still here?’
‘
I want to talk to you.’
‘
You already have.’
‘
Well, you’ll just have to put up with me talking to you again.’
Daisy
walked over to her cupboard. The black clothes fitted her like a second skin and with every step her buttocks, sharply divided by the trouser seam, jiggled. Busying herself examining the scratches on her face in the mirror fixed inside the cupboard door, she said, ‘And if I don’t want to? Why don’t you,’ she went on, fingering a mark on the side of her neck, ‘sod off? Then I won’t have to grass you up for smoking in the dorm.’
‘
You’d have to prove it first.’
‘
I can smell it!’
‘
Can you?’ Janet sniffed, ostentatiously. ‘Aren’t you a clever girl, then?’
Daisy
turned round, regarding her rather admiringly. ‘You could give Dr Scott a run for her money.’ Slamming the door, she threw herself on the bed. ‘That’s if she wasn’t already history. Did you know Mr Nicholls sacked her and Matron because of me? The place was like a madhouse when he got here, so I told him why. I said Matron had gone off her rocker and done something to Therese, and Imogen had tried to top herself.’ She licked her lips. ‘Is
she
history, as well? She was obviously all prepared to die ‘cos she was wearing her false leg for the occasion. When they put her in the ambulance, I could see what looked like two legs under the blankets.’
Janet
shivered and, wishing she had not left her sweater in the car, shuffled away from the window and the chill creeping up and down her spine. Sitting down on the bed that faced Daisy’s, she asked, ‘How do you know Imogen tried to kill herself?’
Crossing
her legs, leaning back on her arms, Daisy raised her eyebrows. ‘Bush telegraph.
Everybody
knows.’ Gazing at Janet with eyes that were almost opaque, she went on, ‘Like everybody knows you’ve arrested Nancy and Charlotte.’
‘
They’ve been taken for questioning,’ Janet told her. ‘Not arrested.’ She paused. Her head was beginning to ache, for the effort of making sense of the sounds coming from Daisy’s lips was taking its toll. ‘In case you want to update the bush telegraph, I can tell you they’re being questioned about their penchant for violence. And Imogen isn’t dead,’ she told her. ‘Torrance, as you probably know,’ she finished with undisguised sarcasm, ‘is very much alive and
almost
ready to start kicking.’
Her
face expressionless, Daisy turned to look out of the window.
‘
Why were you fighting with Alice?’ Janet asked, watching her.
Daisy
shrugged wordlessly.
‘
Was it something to do with Grace?’
Another
shrug. ‘Why should it be?’
‘
Well, what was all that about her “precious jewels”?’
‘
Christ! You’re nosy! Her father bought her a pendant for her birthday last month. Grace swears it’s a real diamond, but it can’t be. He couldn’t afford anything so big.’ She swivelled her head to glare at Janet. ‘Satisfied?’
Ignoring
the display of temper, Janet took out her notebook and made a show of riffling through the closely written pages. She had no clear idea of what she wanted to know from Daisy, only that instinct was telling her there was something to find. ‘I’d like you to tell me,’ she began, ‘how much contact there is between the juniors and the sixth form. Do you get on with them? Justine, for instance? She’s your acting house captain, isn’t she?’
With
an ostentatious sigh, Daisy said, ‘She’s OK. She’s quite sweet, really, and a super rider.’
‘
That’s almost word for word what you said about Sukie.’
‘
So?’
‘
So is that a generalised or a personal opinion?’
‘
Jesus
!’ Daisy rolled her eyes. ‘You’re like a bloody dog with a bone!’ Then, her voice a monotone, she commenced on a series of terse little descriptions that told nothing of consequence, concluding by stating that Ainsley was ‘bizarre’, Charlotte an ‘airhead’, Nancy ‘OK if you don’t let her piss you about’, Francoise ‘stinks like an old ashtray’, Therese was a ‘fat slob’, Vivienne was ‘out of her tree on drugs’, the two Russian girls were ‘bloody Commies’ and Imogen was ‘pathetic’.
As
she droned away, Janet mentally ticked off names and when Daisy stopped speaking, she said, ‘You didn’t mention Torrance.’
Daisy
looked at the floor.
‘
You must have
some
opinion. She’s your house captain.’ Slowly, Daisy raised her eyes, but they were empty, as if the girl behind them had suddenly decamped. ‘Oh, give me a break!’ Janet snapped. ‘I’m asking you to answer a few simple questions, not explain the Theory of Relativity!’
Putting
up her hands, Daisy flicked at the still-damp curls tumbling about her face. There was a fine sheen of perspiration on her brow.
‘
Does Torrance bully you?’
‘
Do you like her?’
Suddenly
reddening, Daisy squirmed. Realising she had probably lumbered on to the tender ground of adolescent love, Janet involuntarily reached across the gap between them to pat Daisy’s hand.
She
recoiled violently. ‘Don’t
touch
me!’ She sounded both horrified and terrified.
‘
I’m sorry!’
‘
That’s what Torrance did.’ Daisy’s eyes were no longer empty. Janet was appalled by the misery there. ‘She’d pat your hand, or stroke your hair. That’s how she started it.’
‘
Started what?’
‘
I saw her in the stables.’
‘
Saw whom?’
‘
Torrance.’ Her tension was almost palpable.
Carefully,
Janet said, ‘I’m a bit lost. What are you trying to tell me?’
Some
unfathomable expression crossed Daisy’s face. Letting each word hang ominously before she spoke the next, she said, ‘I was coming up from the pool. I heard someone crying in the stables. I went in.’ Once again, her voice droned. ‘She was there with Sukie. She was raping her.’
‘
Are you
sure
that’s what you saw?’
‘
Yes! Anyway, Sukie was so upset she came straight to tell me. She was going to report Torrance.’
‘
She told
you
?’ Janet could not hide her astonishment.
Daisy
stamped her foot on the floor. ‘She
told
me! I was her friend; her
secret
friend. She called me “little sister”.’
Janet
frowned. ‘Isn’t it Torrance who calls the Tudor girls “little sister”?’
‘
It was Sukie’s special name for
me
!’ The words emerged with a horrible sibilance.
‘
No one’s said anything to us about you and her.’
‘
I’ve told you!’ Daisy snarled. ‘It was a secret!’
‘
Why? Why did it have to be that way?’
The
question threw Daisy into confusion. She gaped at Janet, face contorted.
‘
Why did your friendship with Sukie have to be kept secret?’ persisted Janet.
Then,
as the answer presented itself, Daisy relaxed. ‘Because of Torrance, of course. She’d have gone absolutely
mad
with jealousy. She wanted Sukie all to herself.’
‘
Sukie told you
all
this, did she?’
‘
You don’t believe me, do you?’ Daisy demanded. ‘You think I’m making it up. Well, I’m not, so there! Sukie was going to tell on Torrance, so Torrance killed her to shut her up. And I’m not the only one who knows.’
‘
No?’
‘
Alice does, too.’ Again she licked her lips. ‘Just you ask her.’
As
Janet escorted Daisy across to the mobile incident room, the echo of her childish, lisping voice, luxuriating in the tale of sordid violence, whispered in her head. She pushed the girl into a chair, told Nona to make sure she stayed there and knocked on the door of the little office.
McKenna
looked up. ‘I was wondering where you’d got to,’ he said. ‘Dewi called. Torrance thinks she saw someone in the grounds on the night Sukie died. More pertinently, whoever it was must have seen
her
; hence the sabotaged saddle, no doubt. There’s no way of knowing if any of the sixth form were out, but did anyone report absentees from the dormitories?’
‘
I’m not sure, sir,’ she replied a little impatiently. ‘And it might not matter, anyway. Daisy’s come up with what sounds like a cast-iron motive. You need to speak to her.’
Reluctantly,
clearly embarrassed by McKenna’s presence, Daisy repeated her story and, because it was without embellishment, Janet found the second telling more persuasive than the first.
‘
You say Alice knows,’ McKenna commented. ‘But how?’
‘
I told her,’ Daisy said.
‘
When?’
‘
Thursday night.’
‘
Why then? Why not before?’
‘
Because Torrance asked her to help with evening stables on Thursday. I wanted to warn Alice in case Torrance tried anything next time they were alone.’
‘
How did Alice react?’
‘
She went absolutely crazy.’ She looked at Janet.
‘
That’s
why we were fighting earlier.’
‘
Did she go crazy because she didn’t believe you?’ McKenna asked.
‘
No,’ Daisy replied witheringly. ‘Because she didn’t
want
to believe me!’
‘
Do you think Sukie had told anyone apart from you?’
‘
No. There was no one for her to tell.’
‘
Why not?’
‘
She didn’t have any friends after she stopped talking to Imogen.’
‘
She might not have had any
close
friends,’ Janet intervened, ‘but she was still popular with the sixth-form.’
Daisy
’s eyes snapped. ‘Who told you that garbage? They
hated
her. They treated her like shit!’
‘
Did they?’
‘
When she wasn’t being cut like she didn’t exist, she got thumped and spat on, her clothes got nicked and her room was messed up nearly every day.’ Daisy paused, her mouth working. ‘They even threatened to slash Purdey.’
‘
Who did?’
Daisy
glanced at him, then her eyes slid away. ‘Nancy?’ he suggested. ‘Charlotte?’
Stiffly,
she nodded.
‘
Anyone else?’
‘
I don’t know.’
McKenna
watched her, but she refused to meet his eyes. ‘I think you do know, Daisy, but we’ll leave it for the time being. Now, did you tell anyone, other than Alice, about what you say you saw in the stables?’
‘
No.’
‘
Could anyone have overheard?’
‘
I don’t know.’
‘
Where were you?’
‘
In the bogs.’
‘
What time was it?’
‘
Nearly dawn.’
‘
Is it likely that Alice has confided in anyone?’
‘
I don’t
know
!’ Suddenly she gulped, put her hands over her face and began to sob noisily. Tears came trickling through her fingers and down the back of her hands.