Someone Like me (2 page)

chapter 2

At that moment the front door banged and I heard Mum’s voice.
             

‘Jasmine, I’m home.’ Damn. I scooped up the peanuts and zapped the screen to a different channel. Why did she have to turn up now? What was Michael supposed to have done? He didn’t deserve to be called dad, I didn’t even know him.

I heard doors slamming in the kitchen, the fridge opening and shutting, then Mum appeared in the doorway, a large glass of pale yellow wine in her hand.

‘Jasmine, what is it? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

She’d got that right.

‘Jasmine?’

‘I’m alright Mum, just a bit tired. Have you finished work now?’

‘I’ve got a few emails to reply to. This new campaign is going to be massive.’ Mum said that about every campaign. Although this was the first time she was being asked to go abroad. 

‘I want to talk to you before I start. Don’t look like that, for goodness’ sake, try and act your age.’ She’d told me that the advertising agency she worked for were sending her on an important assignment in

Yesterday morning Mum
had  blown my world apart. She’d told me that the advertising agency she worked for were sending her on an important assignment in New York this summer and that I was going to have to go and stay with one of her friends. I hadn’t spoken to her for the rest of the day.

‘I don’t want to stay with any of your friends. Why can’t I stay here on my own? I’m old enough.’

‘No you’re not. I’d probably get reported to the press as one of those ghastly mothers who go off to Ibiza with a toy boy and leave their kids home alone.’

‘You said it.’

‘Jasmine!’

‘Tess could come and stay.’ My best friend Tess was staying with her elder brother Mark for the summer and I couldn’t wait.

‘I’m sorry Jasmine, but I can’t leave you two girls on your own here. You’re too young. I’ll sort something out.’ She swilled the liquid around in her glass, staring into it. ‘Please don’t make this difficult. Things aren’t good at work, Jas. We’re losing contracts and people are being made redundant. The truth is if I don’t take this post in New York then I’m out of a job.’

‘So why can’t I come with you?’

She sighed. ‘It’s not appropriate. You know what I’m like when I’m working… and now that Gran is in the care home there isn’t really any other option.’

I went off upstairs to my bedroom and lay down on my bed, thumping the pillow as hard as I could. I didn’t like any of Mum’s friends. Why couldn’t I stay here with Tess? We could have a great time. I was so annoyed about the summer that I had almost forgotten
seeing  that  familiar  face  on 
Crimewatch
  earlier . That same face that had walked out on Mum and me when I was a baby.  Mum  came  home  from  work  one day and Dad didn’t; he was gone, just like that. I had hated him ever since. 

I went outside onto the landing and leant over the bannister. There was no sign of Mum in the living
room. She must be working, which meant she wouldn’t notice anything that was going on around her. I had to find out what he was wanted for. I had been so shocked to see his picture that I hadn’t taken in anything that the newsreader was saying.

I switched on the TV in my room. I had a large flat screen TV high up on the wall. Usually I sprawled out on the bed but today I was way too tense. I could barely sit down. I found the episode I wanted and fast-forwarded through to the part where he had appeared. There was no doubt in my mind; I was one hundred per cent certain that the man on the screen was my father. I had spent enough time as a child studying that face, looking for answers; I would know it anywhere.

My hands were shaking, I realised, as I started the recording a little earlier than necessary. Did I really want to know? Maybe I should turn the set off and forget I had ever seen it. Nobody else was going to recognise him, as long as Mum didn’t get to see it and she hardly ever had time for television. But I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I had to find out the truth. I turned up the volume.

My dad was number ten in the wanted gallery.

‘Last on our list this evening is this man who discovered the body of missing teenager Miriam Jackson. Miriam was found in undergrowth in a wood close to the village of
Keston, Buckinghamshire. She had failed to return home as expected and was last seen on her way home from London on Sunday. The man, who had been out  for  an  early  morning  jog,  phoned  the

police
from a nearby phone booth and waited until they arrived, but disappeared before officers had a chance to question him properly. His image was caught on a nearby CCTV camera as he came out of the phone booth and police are anxious to eliminate him from their inquiries. He is tall, white, of athletic build, with short dark hair and was wearing a black beanie hat, adidas shorts and a red t-shirt.’

My heart stopped as he appeared on the screen again.

‘Anyone who recognises this man or has any information about this crime please call 0800…’

I pressed pause. My legs were now shaking alarmingly.

I had to take control of myself. I took some deep breaths. I was being ridiculous. Why didn’t I get Mum up here now and show her the picture? Then she could tell me that I was wrong; how could I possibly recognise him from a photograph?

I didn’t want to tell Mum. Here was the opportunity I’d always wanted, to find out the truth about my dad and if he was guilty, then I would be the one to find out.

CHAPTER 3

Next morning an urgent need for toast twisted around in my stomach, luring me downstairs. It would be nice to have the kind of mum who fixed breakfast in bed on a Saturday morning but mine didn’t usually surface until midday at weekends. A pile of envelopes lay on the doormat. I picked them up. Three boring official looking letters addressed to Mrs C Robertson. I could never understand why Mum insisted on being called Mrs. I was never going to change my name. Everyone’s parents are divorced these days. The
Crimewatch
image sprang back into my mind.

I was wearing one of Gran’s jumpers. Gran used to knit me lovely jumpers before she went into the home. I didn’t like thinking about Gran; last time I saw her she had asked me who I was.

I made myself some toast and jam plus a pot of tea and settled down on the sofa with my phone. I needed an accomplice and I knew exactly who to ask. Tess.

Tess and I had bonded on our first day at primary school at the back of a
maths lesson, when Glenda Barrett had lost her pencil case and I had tracked it down to the stationery cupboard, announcing to the class that I had solved my first case as a wannabee detective. Most of the class had avoided me after that, but Tess was undeterred. ‘Quirky,’ she called me now.

I texted her and told her to ring me immediately when she woke up. Seconds later my phone rang.

‘I’ve been up ages,’ she said. ‘Mum’s been hoovering outside my door for the past hour. I am about to kill her. What’s up?’

‘I think I saw Michael last night on television.’

‘Michael?’

‘My so called father.’

‘What do you mean he was on television?’

‘It’s beyond complicated,’ I said. ‘I wish I didn’t have to tell you over the phone.’

‘The holidays will be here soon enough,’ she said. ‘I break up a week before you, remember. Only one week to go for me.’

‘You won’t believe what Mum’s trying to make me do. She’s got to work in New York and is trying to get me to stay with one of her friends. Can you imagine?’

I was trying to work out which of Mum’s awful friends she would try and fob me off on. Esme was her best friend, she was OK but she lived with her boyfriend in a tiny flat in Hampstead and I didn’t think she’d want me hanging around cramping her style. Clare was the obvious choice, but she was Mum’s boss so I wasn’t sure whether she would be going with her to New York. The worst-case scenario would be her friend Shona from her Pilates class; she was a health nut, a non-smoking teetotal vegan who never stopped talking about her latest fad.

‘Jas!
You can come and stay at Mark’s!’

‘Do you reckon? That would be amazing!’ Tess had moved away in year seven. Her father had got a job up north and within weeks of telling me, tears streaming down her face that she was leaving, she had gone. Her elder brother had recently moved back down
here  and I couldn’t wait to spend the summer with her again, just like we used to.  

‘So come on, tell me about Michael.’

‘OK, well you won’t believe this but last night Michael’s picture came up as one of the wanted people on
Crimewatch
. Apparently he found the body of a teenager but didn’t wait around to give the police his name.’

I swear I heard her jaw drop open, like they say in books, I really did.

‘OMG,’ she said, ‘you mean your dad – Michael – is wanted in relation to a murder?’

‘He reported it,’ I said, ‘but whether he had anything to do with the actual crime…’ Jeez! Were we really discussing a murder?

‘It can’t possibly be your dad,’ she said, regaining her composure. ‘For a start, how do you know what he looks like? Weren’t you still a baby when he left?’

‘Yes, but I’ve got all mum’s photos of him – I took them before she could throw them away.
I’ve got quite a few of his things. She doesn’t know I’ve got them. She chucked most of his stuff out apart from a few things which she shoved in the loft. When I was about eight and curious to find out everything I possibly could about him, I went up there and had a look. The photo they showed on screen is identical to the one that I have. I’ll email it to you later. He looks slightly older, but then he would do, wouldn’t he?’

‘Well it’s easily sorted – when you show your mum the wanted picture she’ll definitely know whether it’s him or not.’

‘Tess,’ I hissed. ‘Mum can never know about this. She’d report him straight away.’

‘Well that’s good isn’t it?’

She didn’t get it at all. ‘Of course it isn’t good, I don’t want her interfering. I need to find out what he is up to.’

Tess went all serious.

‘Jas,’ she said gently, ‘you don’t know anything about this man. He might well be guilty.’

‘I know, and if he is then I will have been right about him all along,’ I said. ‘But I need to know. I’m going to find out exactly what kind of person he is. And you are going to help me.’

CHAPTER 4

I stared at the now silent phone in my hand, wishing it would come back to life with Tess’s voice. It was still early. Mum wasn’t up and wouldn’t be for hours. A boring Saturday morning stretched ahead of me. Unless… Saturday meant Sadie would be in the café in town. Somehow after following her the first time I was curious to see exactly how far I could go. It wasn’t as if I had anything else to do. I grabbed my coat and headed out of the door.

She looked at me curiously when I walked in and I put my head down. I didn’t want her to see my tomato cheeks. My heart was fluttering extra fast.

A peal of laughter made me look over at her table. Two of her friends had just come in. I was feeling a bit conspicuous. Usually I put my hair up under a cap so that she wouldn’t
recognise me, but I’d rushed out without thinking. My hair is scarlet red – the exact same colour as Sadie’s. Her hair had been so different to mine and I’d started obsessing about whether it would suit me. I’d taken a photo to the hairdressers and they’d done a really good job matching the shade, and the style was pretty accurate too.

             
The two boys who had sat down with her were gazing  at  her  from  under  their  identical  hair, swept forward into carefully arranged mops. Their t-shirts and jeans were like a uniform too. Sadie was so popular she made me sick. Her ruby lips were pouting and talking and the boys were hanging onto her every word. Every now and then she picked up her pink phone and tapped away, showing the screen to the boys and laughing. She had her bag at her side, my identical one was on the chair next to me. I hunched down into the armchair. A good detective does not get spotted.

I kept my head lowered but she was so engrossed with her admirers that there wasn’t much danger of her noticing little old me in the corner. I sighed and looked around the café. The place was livening up now, there was a queue at the counter and the enormous pile of pastel
coloured cupcakes had gone down loads since I had last looked. The baristas in their identical black t-shirts and aprons were darting about, conjuring up a hundred different varieties of coffee. Sadie always drank espressos and never ate cakes; she was obsessed with her weight. I couldn’t be bothered with all that. I scooped up the crumbs from the remains of my cake and licked my fingers.

Sadie and her boys were leaving now. I had no intention of following her
today, I was too conspicuous with my hair and bag. I switched on my laptop and opened it up. My Sadie file would distract me. I added the number plate that I had jotted down the other day. So far the facts I had accumulated were:

Sadie 17

St Helena’s sixth form year 12 A levels Art French and History

Lives with mum dad sister Alicia 13 and brother Joshua Boyfriend AJ, 20? Works as a fashion photographer.

Drives a Porsche registration number T5XQ OLR

Best friend Madeleine

Drinks double espresso and vodka and diet coke

Smokes menthol cigarettes socially

Favourite
designer Stella McCartney

My Sadie list was growing. The car the other day annoyed me. Who was the driver and what had happened to AJ? I clicked on Sadie’s Facebook page. AJ was still listed as her boyfriend. I opened his picture just for the hell of it. Gorgeous, brown eyes and dark curly hair. Why would she cheat on him? I dragged myself away from AJ and added a description of the car.
Red sports car
. I googled it to get a name for it. Jeez, cars are boring but detail was crucial to being a good detective. AJ’s Porsche was black and two years old – a gift from his dad when he upgraded his own car. I bet he didn’t know about Mystery Man.

The tables around me were heaving now and a woman with an extremely loud voice was shouting into her phone. I wondered where Sadie was going on
holiday  – I was pretty sure about one thing  –  no  way would she be expected to stay with one of her mum’s sad friends for the summer.

I had first encountered Sadie in the public library in town. I’d done a double take at the sight of such an exotic specimen in the teen zone. Since the library had been done up, it wasn’t such a sad place to hang out in. She was seated at the end terminal staring furiously at the screen. I went and sat down in the space next to her. I had my headphones on, but my music had come to an end. I moved my head around a little; let her think I wasn’t paying attention to her.

A librarian was walking past with a pile of books and the girl had put her hand in the  air  and  summoned her over.

‘Can you help me?’ she asked. Her voice was, as I expected, smooth and refined, a bit plummy. ‘I’m
trying to log into my email account and I can’t remember my password.’ The librarian gave her a curious look. ‘It sounds like you need to set a new one. Make sure you choose something you can remember this time.’

The girl glared at her and typed something into the screen. After a few more minutes and a bit more tapping, she fished a pen out of her bag and jotted something down on an envelope that was lying on the table. It must have worked because after that she started typing furiously. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. Her hair was a brash, unnatural but wonderful shade of red, cut into a severe bob with the straightest fringe I had ever seen and her fingernails matched exactly. She was wearing gorgeous jeans and a black leather jacket. The jeans were Armani and her
bag  was one I recognised from a magazine. Envy filled every pore of my body. At that moment, a stream of rap blasted  from  her  bag.  Now  it  was the librarian’s turn to glare. Sadie looked at the screen to see who was calling and raised her beautifully neat eyebrows.

‘Yeah?’ she breathed, pouting at the screen. ‘You’re joking!’ She stood up abruptly, pressed escape on the keyboard, grabbed hold of her bag and strode out of the door. I too grabbed hold of my jacket with one hand, picking up the envelope she had left on the table with the other. I hesitated for a moment, but this was too good an opportunity to practice at being a detective. I glanced at the front of the envelope before shoving it into my back pocket, grinning.
Hello Sadie Delaware
, I said  to  myself. Name  and  address, email log in details, not bad  for  a  first  meeting. I thought back to how I’d felt then, as I hurried after the retreating Sadie, who was tripping down the High Street, phone glued to her ear. Excited.