The Well (45 page)

Jim shook his head, sadly. “You’ll want me to come back, tonight – and I, well, I just can’t.”

“Is this because of me?” asked Sarah, softly, looking around.

“A bit. Well, it’s what got me thinking. When things are tough, people should pull together. I think I was there for you – but I don’t think you were there for me.”

It hurt, but Sarah knew it was true. “I know,” she said.

One of Matt’s teachers interrupted, offering clumsy commiserations. When she’d left, Sarah said, “I don’t want you to go. I love you.”

“This isn’t all about love,” replied Jim. “It’s about respect. I still love you, but I don’t know if I respect you.”

“You sound like you’ve made up your mind.”

“I have. I feel hollow. Like I have nothing.
Like I am nothing
. I just want to be alone. I know Matt wasn’t perfect, but – well, I don’t have to explain it. It’s like part of me is gone. The most important part. I lost Chris. Now Matt. It’s like all of those years were for nothing. I just want to be on my own.”

“Jim,” said Sarah, holding his hand tightly.
Never
, she thought
, never has a single sentence been so important in all my life.
“I could beg,” she said. “And I’m prepared to. I could move in with you, at your house. I’d be prepared to do that too – happy to do that – or move somewhere else completely. Look – I got it wrong. I was a cow. I was preoccupied and selfish. And I know that I’d probably do the same again. But I do love you. If you want to go, then at least let’s not fight or fall out. But how about this – how about we at least try? Start again?”

Jim shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“It will be hard. Very hard. But I think we need each other. Will you at least give me a chance?”

Jim glanced over at Becca, who was chatting to Hannah. For a moment, Becca caught Jim’s eye before lowering her head. “It’s not just you. Becca’s never really taken to me. And – I know this is wrong – but I find it very, very hard to be with her right now.”

Sarah took both of his hands in hers. “I can understand that.”

Jim was lost in thought and Sarah struggled to think of anything to console him.

“Jim,” she said. “No one can make this less crap than it is. But we don’t have to make it worse.”

“This couldn’t be any worse,” said Jim.

Hannah hadn’t missed how her friend avoided eye contact with Jim.

“Something wrong with you and Jim?” asked Hannah.

Becca swallowed and glanced towards Jim. “I just – I just don’t know what to say to him,” she said.

“You feel you’re to blame?” offered Hannah.

Becca nodded and wiped away a tear. “I know I am. And I know Jim knows it too. He’s been to see me, most times that Mum’s come. But he doesn’t say a lot. I can see he’s, I don’t know, uncomfortable around me. Like he wants to say something but can’t.”

“Becca,” said Hannah, taking her hand. “He probably does. And I bet you want to talk to him too.”

“I do – but I don’t know what to say,” Becca replied. “When he and Mum first got together I didn’t give him a chance,” she admitted. “I resented him. He made Mum happy, but that annoyed me. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t
want
to like him, in case he – he hurt Mum.”

“Like with your Dad?”

Becca nodded. She wiped her face. “Are all men shits?”

“You know they’re not,” said Hannah, thinking about what her mother had now told her about her own father. “But plenty are. I don’t think Jim’s one of them, though.”

Becca reflected on this and nodded again. “Yep.”

Hannah tried to change the subject. “What about your cuts and stuff?”

“That’s the pits,” said Becca. “I’ve always been – you know – really bony. But at least I was proper toned. But my body’s a mess. I hate it. I can’t look at it. Scars everywhere – and not all of them are going to go away.”

“Oh, Becks.” Hannah was stuck for words. She wanted to tell her how
she
felt: how she couldn’t stand naked without thinking of Tom Randle leering at her. She decided that now wasn’t the time.

Becca took a deep breath. “Do me a favour, Hannah? Wheel me over to Mum and Jim, while I’ve got the nerve up to speak to them?”

“You sure?”

“Yes. No – but I have to.”

Hannah stood and took the brake off Becca’s wheelchair. Becca reached her hand out to Hannah’s. “Han?”

“Yeah?”

“I never really said – thanks. Proper thanks.”

“You did, several times.”

“I love you, Han.” She reached up and hugged her friend.

Hannah hugged her back. “You big girl,” she said.

“I mean it,” said Becca. “What you did –”

“Enough,” said Hannah, wiping away a tear. “Right now I don’t want to talk about it.” She started to push Becca’s wheelchair, but again she stopped her.

“Hang on,” said Becca. “Let’s just talk to Sammy’s Mum first.” Hannah wheeled Becca over to Abby and Helen, who were sitting alone, holding hands. There’d been a few rumours around the school that Miss Goodwin was gay, but Becca had always disregarded them. She didn’t see why some people thought it was such a big deal, but she admitted to herself that she did feel a touch uncomfortable seeing them hand in hand – but there was something sweet about it too.
Get over it
, thought Becca.

“Miss Goodwin? Mrs – Henshall?”

“It’s Miss,” said Abby. “But call me Abby. You’ll make me feel older than I am.”

“And it’s Helen,” said Helen. “At least out of school.”

Becca had seen them both around the hospital, but hadn’t spoken to either of them – although she knew that her mother had, several times. Becca had asked her mother to take her to see Sammy, but when they went, Sammy had been asleep. Hannah had now told Becca everything she knew about Sammy – the unedited version of events. Nothing about it seemed unbelievable; it fit in perfectly with her own experiences. And, after having had several conversations with a long-dead witch, it wasn’t really a big leap to accept that a little girl could read minds.

“I just wanted to ask,” said Becca, “if it’s OK to come and see Sammy.”

“Of course it is,” said Abby. “Your Mum told me you went to see her, but she was sleeping.”

Becca nodded. “I didn’t just mean at the hospital, though. I meant after. When she comes home. Can I –” she indicated to Hannah, “I mean,
we
– come and see her?”

“I’d love you to. And I’m sure Sammy would too.”

There was a pause. Abby leaned forwards to Hannah. “Hannah?”

“Yes?”

“I haven’t said. I haven’t – thanked you. Sammy told me. What you – what you were going to do. To save her.”

Hannah blushed, lost for words. “I didn’t think,” she said. “I just – Sammy’s only a baby. I couldn’t –”

Abby put her hand on Hannah’s. “I can’t thank you enough. Ever. What you did – I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anything so – so brave. So selfless.”

Hannah rubbed a tear away. “Anyone would have –”

Abby interrupted her. “No, Hannah. I don’t think anyone would. You’re very special.”

Hannah was lost for words.

“Look, Hannah,” said Abby. “Do you know my shop?
No Stone Unturned
?”

Hannah nodded. “I’ve been past it lots,” she said.

“Well,” said Abby. “Next time, don’t walk past, come in. I’m not well off, but the shop has some pretty nice crystals and fossils. You come in and take your pick.”

“Thanks,” flustered Hannah.

“Really,” said Abby. “Whatever you want.”

They chatted for a little while before Becca made her excuses and asked to be taken over to see Sarah and Jim.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” asked Hannah.

“I’m pooped, to be honest. I’ve not been out of bed this long since – well, you know. But I need to do this.”

Becca felt her stomach somersault as Hannah pushed her to the table. Hannah put the brake on the chair and sat down beside them.

“Han,” Becca asked. “Do me a favour?”

“Oh, sure,” said Hannah, “I’ll go catch up with Simon.”

Becca took a deep breath.
Shit this is hard
, she thought. After everything that had happened, this seemed to be the biggest challenge of all.

“Jim” she said tentatively, holding back her tears. “Can I – can I – talk to you a minute?”

Sarah stood. “I’ll give you two some time,” she said.

Becca nodded, and then thought better of it. “No, Mum. Please stay.” Sarah sat down.

“This is really hard for me,” said Becca. There was a long pause and Sarah reached out for her daughter’s hand, squeezing it. Becca squeezed it back and then reached for Jim with her other hand. Time seemed to drag.
I can’t say it
, thought Becca.
I’ll screw it up
.

“It’s OK,” Jim offered.

“No, Jim,” said Becca. “It’s not OK. Nothing about this is OK. It’s all – horrible.”

“Honey,” began Sarah.

“No, Mum. Please. Let me try to – let me try?”

Sarah nodded.

“I told Mum everything. And said I didn’t want to ever, ever tell anyone.” A tear ran down Becca’s face and Sarah brushed it away for her. “But I will,” said Becca. “If you want. I don’t want to – but I will.”

Jim didn’t know what to say. He nodded, slowly.

“But I want you to know one thing,” said Becca. “Well, two actually. First, I’ve been – well – I didn’t give you a chance. I know that.”

“I think you’re being hard on yourself, Becca,” said Jim, softly.

“No I’m not. I’m being easy on myself. I was a little shit. Sorry Mum. But I was. You didn’t deserve it. Mum’s not been so happy for – well, pretty much as long as I can remember. She loves you but Dad screwed up her head, so sometimes – well, you know what I mean.”

Jim looked uncomfortable, but said nothing.
This is so hard,
thought Becca.

“Jim – I want to have a proper chance at having a real Dad. I really want that – my Dad – to be you.”

It was Jim’s turn to cry. “Oh, Becca,” he said. Sarah let go of Becca and put her arm around Jim, pulling him close.

“And –” said Becca, not wanting to lose her momentum. “I have to tell you something else. About Matt.”

Jim looked at her, rubbing his eyes.

“The last thing –” Try as she might, Becca couldn’t stifle a sob. “The last thing he did was to try to save me. He fell in because he was trying to save me. It was – it was the bravest thing ever.
Ever
.”

Jim nodded. “I appreciate that, Becca. I really do.”

With some effort, Becca rose from her chair and sat beside Jim. Still raw, her body hurt all over. She hugged him and gave him a kiss. “
Ever
– ,” she repeated.

They talked and cried for a while. Once the mood shifted back to something a little more approaching normality, albeit a sombre one, Becca said, “Jim, I’ve got something I really want to ask you.”

“Sure,” said Jim.

“Matt’s stuff – his schoolbag. Have you got it back yet?”

“Yes,” said Jim. “But I’ve not done anything with it. It – well, it’s been too hard. I put it in his room. It stinks, though.”

Becca felt relieved. “There’s something I’d really, really like. If you don’t mind and if you don’t want it?”

“What’s that?” asked Jim.

“A drawing he did of me,” replied Becca. “It’s in his art book. I didn’t know he’d drawn it until – until I saw it in the well – but I’d really like to keep it, if I can.”

“Of course you can have it,” said Jim. “Of course. We’ll keep it for you. Until you come home.”

It was several weeks before Becca came home and, of course, the drawing was waiting – dried, cleaned, framed and hung on her bedroom wall. But, by then, Jim had moved out.

2

Jenny held down the blue and white crime-scene tape and stepped over it.
POLICE – DO NOT CROSS
, it said. She let Trudy off her leash and the collie ran into the field, glad to be free. Jenny had half-expected at least one officer to still be patrolling the area (and had brought her warrant card just in case) but there was no one there but her. She guessed that the tape would be removed in the next few days, once someone got around to it.

She crossed the field, whistling for Trudy to follow, and made her way to the quarry pool.

The wind blew her red hair around her face and she brushed it away from her eyes with her hand. When it wasn’t tied back, it could be unruly – even annoying – but right now she wanted to feel the breeze blowing her mood away. The funeral and reception had been harder than she’d expected and she was glad of Stephen’s support – but afterwards she felt that she needed to be alone. Or, at least, alone with Trudy – whose unconditional and unspoken love for Jenny was a great source of strength. She seldom came here to walk Trudy, since she lived on the other side of town, but something had been bugging her for the week and a half since the girls were found.

Jenny climbed the steep side of the quarry, taking care to keep away from its edge. Trudy followed her, but needed a little help where the hill was steepest – Jenny tugged at her collar to keep her moving. Once at the top, she sat and admired the view, breathless for a minute. Trudy sat beside her and Jenny rubbed under her chin.

Jenny could see most of Bankside. Although the day was warm, high on the hill, the wind was blustery though not uncomfortable. She stood up and walked as close as she could to the top of the quarry. Police tape was strung along the broken fence, offering no more protection than the rotten wood. The mayor and other councillors were already debating what to do about the quarry – whether to put up a new fence (the cheapest option) or to drain and fill the quarry pool (an idea that had already raised many objections). The well, of course, was going to be capped again – and concerted effort put into finding the legitimate owners of the estate. The old stories about the estate, the cottage and the well had come alive again as local people tried to connect the events of the last few days with the long-dead witch.
They’ll die down again
, thought Jenny, who regarded the stories as nonsense.
Give it a few weeks or months.

Jenny walked along the length of the fence, Trudy following her. She looked down into the quarry pool.
It’s one hell of a drop
, she thought, reflecting that Helen Goodwin had been extraordinarily lucky. She’d spoken to both Helen and Abby, apart and together, and the two women’s deep love for each other was obvious – indeed, it was a depth of feeling and mutual commitment that Jenny felt envious of. Despite that, she still struggled with the idea that Abby would abandon her daughter to rescue her partner. But the case was currently being wrapped up and it seemed that only she harboured this lingering doubt.