Head Start Read online

  ‘I know what out of bounds means, thank you. If it was out of bounds, why wasn’t it locked? You know, I really think I’d prefer another responsible adult. All this one does is sit and eat.’

  ‘It’s very late anyway, isn’t it?’ Toni said, at last coming round to my opinion. ‘We’ve arranged emergency accommodation for you, Prudence.’

  ‘I want to go home.’

  ‘Sadly that isn’t possible. We have to find somewhere where an adult will take responsibility for you. There’s a foster home waiting.’

  ‘But I could go home if, say, Ms Cowan was staying there.’

  Toni caught my eye. In other circumstances I’d swear she winked. ‘I’m afraid that we’ve already asked enough of Ms Cowan. We’ll take you to the foster home now.’

  We all got to our feet. Except for Prudence. She suddenly launched herself at me, grabbing me round the knees. Tears poured down her face. ‘Please, Ms Cowan, please. The policewoman says you’re in loco parentis! Look after me! I beg you! Please!’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Would I have succumbed even then if a uniformed officer hadn’t knocked on the door and asked to speak to me? I don’t know. As it was, I was glad to be outside in the impersonal and slightly shabby corridor, where Pat was leaning against the wall, not even pretending to read the notices on the board.

  He straightened. ‘There’s been a development at the Cricketers. Someone was caught messing with the mains electricity supply to plunge the place into darkness. So we won’t be staying there. We’re going to a safe house instead. Just for the night, I hope.’

  I didn’t have the strength to take everything in, let alone ask questions. ‘So long as we can do two things: get some food and talk as we go?’

  He laughed. ‘Didn’t I see a couple of burgers go into the interview room? You must have hollow legs. OK, food it is. All the gear you bought is still in my car, so at least you’ll have a change of clothing with you. Me too,’ he conceded with a grin as he propelled me briskly into the secured car park. He waited till he’d manoeuvred out and we were on the move before saying, ‘We’ll go the long way round, just in case.’

  ‘In case of what?’

  ‘In case the guy my colleagues picked up tonight isn’t the only one of your dear ex-husband’s mates trying to mess with your head – and indeed your general safety. What do you fancy? Curry or Chinese or—’

  ‘For God’s sake, just tell me who it is! I know you’re trying to be funny, but please!’ I couldn’t stop my voice breaking.

  He flipped me a tissue from a box in the driver’s door. ‘Sorry. I thought you’d have guessed by now. Mr Hoodie. Mr Outsize Hoodie with a small wiry body. Mr Churchgoing Hoodie who bolted as soon as he realised I was a cop so he could take his kid to swimming lessons. Allegedly. He doesn’t go swimming on Sunday mornings, as it happens.’

  ‘Toby Wells. Why Toby Wells?’ I didn’t have enough breath to do more than gasp.

  ‘Which school did Simon go to? Malvern? And which public school did young Toby mysteriously fetch up in? Malvern. Their education did them proud in every aspect but one, which probably no school on earth could have dealt with: Simon’s profound misogyny, and Toby’s general desire to copy Simon. Apart from in one thing, sadly – his sporting ability.’

  ‘Which Simon had in spades. He always claimed to have been approached by Worcestershire to play for the Colts, you know. But Toby’s a family man – surely by doing Simon’s dirty work he’d be putting his career and the security of his family in jeopardy?’ But I added more slowly, ‘He’s the one that sold the village cricket field despite huge opposition. I thought that might be why everyone says he’s a bad lot. On the other hand, perhaps he just enjoys being unpleasant for its own sake. Making people homeless is the grown-up equivalent of pulling wings off flies …’

  ‘It’ll come out at the trial.’

  I shuddered. Of course, there had to be a trial. ‘How will his family cope with that? You know his daughter’s very close to Prudence.’

  He nodded. ‘Sophia: yes?’

  ‘Yes. One of those who skived off music. He’s not involved with the cameras, is he? He’s a father, for goodness’ sake. Please say no.’

  ‘There’s no evidence yet – and the technical team gave his house a pretty thorough going over. He won’t be seeing his computer for a bit, however.’ Whatever he’d meant to say next was interrupted by a terrible growl from his stomach. He pulled up behind a lot of other cars outside a run of takeaways. ‘Like I said, Indian, Chinese, Thai?’

  ‘Thai.’

  ‘That sounds a bit decisive for you, Avo! I’ll get a feast for two. No, you’re staying in the car. And for good measure I’m locking you in. But you press that button if you really need to get out.’

  ‘I’d rather come in with you.’ I sounded horribly like Prudence demanding kindness.

  At least I got my way, and also persuaded him to nip into the nearby late-night convenience store to pick up some overpriced bubbly. ‘I know this is premature,’ I added, stowing it between my feet so it wouldn’t be thrown round too much as he accelerated and headed for the M20. ‘I know we ought to wait for the arrest of the camera man. But …’

  ‘But, indeed. It’ll go well with the Thai, anyway.’

  ‘True. Pat – the other children were questioned today, weren’t they? What did they say about Emma’s accident? I meant to ask the police at Canterbury but didn’t get the chance.’

  ‘They couldn’t have told you anything. Any more than I can, not if you’re going to be involved with young Prudence tomorrow. Please don’t ask me any more. Though I will say this: I think you ought to be supporting the interviewing team, not holding her hand – metaphorically, of course.’

  ‘For a start, I very much doubt if she’d want me to hold her hand. And I do find it terribly hard to have to support her, not join in the cross-questioning. Only in my case the questioning could be very cross indeed.’

  ‘Ho, ho!’ He laughed ironically. ‘I can’t say I’d blame you. Or blame Prudence for opting for someone else, come to think of it. What I’ll suggest to Mandy, then, is that you watch the questioning with the pros the other side of the two-way mirror and prompt them every time you see something the interviewers don’t register. Mandy will be there, but I’ll more likely be watching Toby Wells get the same treatment. It won’t be a pretty experience, Avo, but I can’t imagine your wanting to sit in ignorance while other people mess up.’

  Safe houses were not, in my considerable experience, five-star residences, but this one, in a suburb of Maidstone, was more than acceptable. Someone had already turned on the central heating, there was plenty of hot water, the kitchen was clean – and what looked like Venetian blinds turned out to be made of steel. We perched on spindly bar stools at a strangely chic high table and tucked in.

  ‘So will Wells get bail?’ I ventured, asking a question that had been nagging me ever since Pat had told me the news, but which I’d been too scared to ask. Now I was full I felt braver, but Pat no doubt clocked my hand shaking as I topped up our glasses – ordinary tumblers, but who cared?

  ‘If he’s got a good lawyer he will. Look how many times Simon was let out when he should have been locked up pending his trial. What my colleagues will be doing now – or more probably, given the cuts, over the weekend or even on Monday – is trying to find if Simon’s got any other best mates dancing to his tune. I’m pretty sure Wells won’t have been able to alert any of them, but he summoned his own solicitor, not the duty one, who might have done his dirty work for him. Hence this place.’ His expansive gesture threatened to overbalance him. ‘Too much fizz,’ he explained unapologetically. ‘Now, for twelve hours or so, before you have to go back and listen to more of young Prudence’s lies and evasions, you’re safe. On the other hand, Prudence is Prudence.’

  At some point after this profound utterance I found I had my forehead in a dish of sticky rice.

  The champagne stopped me sleeping as d
eeply as I’d expected, but the shower and chance to dress in pristine clothes made me feel I was ready for anything, especially the breakfast we bought at some chic country hotel. The excuse for this extravagance was that neither of us fancied elderly cornflakes served with UHT milk, which was all that the safe house could provide.

  Pat insisted there was no need to hurry. ‘They’re probably hoping Prudence’s parents will get back from France in time to sit in on the interview. With luck, they’ll be reunited already.’

  ‘Will they come with a solicitor? The bony-kneed woman who was supposed to sue the school?’

  ‘I’d have thought it would all be very low-key at this stage.’

  ‘I’m not sure the Digbys do low-key.’

  While I tidied myself up in the upmarket loos, Pat called Mandy, greeting me, as I returned, with the news that I had toothpaste on my nose and that the second round in the battle with Prudence would start at eleven.

  ‘Battle? She’s a kid, Pat: please remember that. With absent parents.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. But she’s a kid it’s hard to take to.’

  ‘Intellectually I suspect she’s out of all our leagues. Perhaps that’s the problem.’

  ‘So what would be the solution?’

  All I could do was shrug helplessly. I changed the subject to more prosaic matters. ‘Since we’ve got a little time to spare, would you mind if when we get to Canterbury I nipped into that nice big Boots? My make-up’s back in my case.’

  ‘No problem. I’ve got to get a couple of birthday cards too.’

  A nice domesticated errand. He didn’t say who they were for – why should he? And I didn’t ask.

  I dived into Boots while he set off in search of a WH Smith. He took longer to choose than I did; huddling into my new down-filled hooded jacket I braved the cutting wind and started what was meant to be a quick exploration of the city. But I was stopped outside the second charity shop.

  Not by a chugger, asking me to sign away my soul to a charity via monthly direct debits. By a teddy bear in a dump bin. He reached out his paws in the way my late and deeply lamented bear Bob used to do. He wouldn’t be another Bob, not even Bob Two. No doubt he would tell me his name as we got better acquainted. He was reluctant to be stowed in a carrier back, insisting on sticking his head out to see what was going on.

  ‘For Prudence?’

  ‘For me.’

  Pat clearly wanted to say a lot of things, but swallowed them all. ‘Nosey old thing, isn’t he?’ he observed.

  Nosey. Not a bad name at all.

  I ought to have been embarrassed to let anyone see my purchase, but braved it out, even waving cheerily at Mark Stephens, scurrying along the other side of the road. He looked straight through me. Did he not recognise me? Why should he, come to think of it? I was in my new plumage in a town where he wouldn’t expect me. There was no time for speculation: it was time to return to the police station.

  Mandy greeted me with a brief hug, and the news that Emma Hamilton was still stable. She responded to my question about the other truanting children in much the same way as Pat had done. I didn’t find it reassuring.

  There was no sign yet of Prudence’s parents. In their position I would have left Paris in the middle of the opera to get back to her. As it was, it seemed they had spent the night in Paris, and caught an early – but not the earliest – train. Was it because they wanted one with the best connection to Ashford? In fact, it was clear that even the police team felt they were heartless. In a waiting area, two long-faced sadly dressed women were waiting; my money was on their being social service representatives, ready to pounce on the Digbys to discuss their parenting skills.

  I sat with Mandy and other members of her team watching through the two-way mirror. Ignoring her overnight foster-mother, Prudence sat forlorn, chewing her hair from time to time. I was almost tempted to give her Nosey. Almost. But not quite. She would no doubt have regarded him with disdain and me with supercilious disbelief. Or vice versa.

  Poor child. Poor little girl. And what a dreadful future she might have ahead of her.

  At this point she looked at her watch, quite pointedly. ‘Surely the police can’t keep us waiting much longer?’

  The foster-mother whispered something.

  ‘I don’t see why we shouldn’t start without them,’ she responded with a toss of her mane. ‘They weren’t there when Emma had her fall so why should they need to be here? For goodness’ sake!’ She tapped her foot as she must have seen her mother tap hers when enraged by someone’s lack of co-operation.

  ‘How hard will your colleagues be pressing her?’ I asked Mandy, my voice low as if in church, despite the soundproofing.

  ‘Sadly, as hard and as long as it takes. We need hard evidence, Jane, don’t we? We have a child who may not survive. Someone attacked her. Or she had a tragic accident, which was nonetheless caused by something or someone. Furthermore, someone was up to no good with those cameras. Someone very sick. God knows what else he was doing. So far our house searches have come up with nothing. If we had the officers, we’d take very damned house in the village to pieces, brick by brick. But we can’t, not on my budget. Even if officers work for nothing, which all too often they do.’

  ‘She’s a child, remember, despite her sophisticated vocabulary and apparently adult attitudes. A child.’

  ‘So were the boys who killed James Bulger.’

  ‘You’re surely not – no, surely … I can’t …’

  Mandy was matter-of-fact. ‘Something bad happened at your school. Maybe downright evil. We have to root it out. All of us, including you, Jane. And if Prudence is the key to it – I’m not saying she’s party to it, mind – we have to harden our hearts. She’ll get support and therapy afterwards, of course. As will all those involved.’

  ‘Budget permitting,’ I said dryly.

  ‘Any budget ought to stretch to that.’ Someone knocked on the door and spoke briefly. With a shrug, Mandy left the room.

  Prudence continued to play with her hair, tapping her foot occasionally. At last she said, ‘Surely I have some rights? I don’t want to wait here any longer.’

  The woman with her spoke firmly this time. ‘We’re here because the police want us here. They’re in charge, Prudence, not us. You just have to be patient.’ She reached for a magazine, passing Prudence one too. She cast it aside disparagingly. I felt I should have dashed in with The Guardian Pat had treated me to, though he was now reading it in a rest area that used to be the staff canteen.

  Or maybe with the teddy bear. No, not the bear. Definitely. Until I could have a dog or cat, he would keep me company.

  ‘The Digbys’ train – the local connection, not Eurostar – is delayed by an incident on the line. Someone topping himself, that means, usually. Imagine being the driver and knowing that … Anyway, they’re apparently happy for their daughter – their only daughter, Jane – to go ahead without them. She’s only giving us information, they say. As if!’

  ‘You’re talking to her as much as a suspect as a witness, then?’ I asked sharply.

  ‘And possibly as a victim.’ She was as near to being distraught as I was. ‘OK. Let’s get the trained professionals to get on with it. Dear God, there are times I wish I smoked.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ‘The whole school had a talk on Thursday from a police community support officer. Ian Cooper. Were you there for the talk?’ PC Toni Lowe was obviously well briefed. There was an underlying steel about her I’d not noticed the previous evening.

  ‘Of course I was. The whole school was. We were stuck in the village hall. All day.’

  It was Barbara’s turn. ‘Do you recall what Mr Cooper spoke about?’

  ‘Oh, stuff about keeping promises and how he had to stand up to a superior officer who wanted him to work somewhere else. Like we all believed that.’

  Prudence’s memory was pretty selective. Or had she merely anticipated being asked why she did not stick to telling the t
ruth, as Ian had advocated?

  ‘Anything about telling the truth?’ Toni asked.

  ‘You were there, were you?’

  ‘Ian is a colleague of mine.’ Toni did not smile. ‘Tell me what you did during break.’

  ‘Despite Rosie’s accident, the playground is a sheet of ice. It’s simply not safe. That’s why I’m sure Emma must have fallen over.’

  ‘Or you could try telling the truth – the whole truth, including why you didn’t return to the village hall after break.’

  ‘Of course I did. I might have been late … Well, I was late, because I’d lost my scrunchie in the playground, but I certainly went back. They gave us disgusting white pasta for lunch.’

  ‘Did Robert go back? And Sophie?’

  ‘Sophia. When they’d helped me look for my scrunchie. Ms Cowan likes us to keep our hair tied back at all times. For safety, or so she says.’

  ‘How sensible. Now, if three of you were trailing backwards and forwards across the playground, looking for something as small as a scrunchie, then surely you’d have noticed something bigger – like a friend so badly hurt she had to crawl.’ Toni infused the same scornful doubt into her voice as Prudence employed so irritatingly. Then she paused. ‘Tell me what really happened, Prudence. We know three of you skived off after break. We know you weren’t in the school building because our colleagues searched it when Emma was found. We also know that Emma was injured in the school itself, not in the playground. Don’t we? What would you like to tell me?’

  The foster-mother spoke for the first time. ‘Let me remind you that Prudence is only ten, officers – this is very forceful questioning considering she’s only a witness.’

  ‘I’m nearly eleven.’ Which made her sound even more like a child.

  I put my hand on Mandy’s arm. ‘Ms Pearson is right. Surely they should ease up a bit?’

  Mandy shrugged. But she spoke into the mike. ‘Leave that line of questioning for a moment. Go back to the skiving, maybe?’