Lucy stared at the grey walls before her, the weeks spent in prison were taking their toll. She started rocking absentmindedly back and forth on the bed. A coping mechanism she’d developed as a child, one that carried on into her adult years whenever she was anxious or upset. The tears that were flowing confused her. She wasn’t sure if she was crying for herself or grieving Patrick’s death. Her emotions were all over the place and she was bottling them up. People wouldn’t understand how she could cry and grieve for a man who had stolen years of her life. Lucy had been guilty of those thoughts about other abused women, so why wouldn’t people think the same about her?
Patrick had been a master manipulator and even now she felt her feelings weren’t within her control. Looking back, she realized that he’d been subtle initially. Isolating her from her friends and family. The more Lucy would defend them, the more Patrick would go out of his way to make her question things – were they genuine? Did they love her? Why did they act that way? More thoughts, reminders of the emotional abuse flooded her thoughts, and she picked up her journal and wrote them down.
If your parents are so great, how come they wouldn’t help us when we were struggling to pay the mortgage?
That’s not fair, Patrick, they didn’t have the money and you know it.
Didn’t they? I thought I saw them on Facebook – a holiday – only a week later. Face it, they don’t give a toss about you, us, or the kids.
I thought about what Patrick was saying. You know they’d saved for that holiday for ages. It was pre-booked …
Patrick smacked his palms on the table, making me jump. I remember it so vividly. Raising his voice, he’d said, like fuck they had. Wake up, Lucy. Are you stupid? Are you really that stupid!
Lucy knew exactly why her parents didn’t visit. The last time they had, Patrick had got drunk and been disrespectful, not only to Lucy but to her sister and parents. Lucy’s father had warned her to be careful after that final dinner they’d attended, the one where Mel was flirting with Patrick. But Lucy didn’t listen. The next day, her father had called her and warned her again. Lucy had made excuses for Patrick, but her father made it clear they wouldn’t be visiting again. He had sounded so sad. Almost like he was saying goodbye forever. Patrick made her believe they were better off alone.
The grey walls were closing in on her. Lucy carried on rocking. She used to believe that if he was dead, she’d be free. The reality was different, and she now wondered if she’d ever be free. Even in death he controlled her.
Lucy sighed. The days in prison seemed to drag, like when you’re in a hospital, and every time you look at a clock it doesn’t seem to have moved at all. She did have one thing to look forward to though: seeing Rory and meeting his girlfriend. Lucy smiled and stopped rocking for a moment. They would be arriving any minute now. She had become close to Rory since the murder; they wrote to each other weekly. She felt this overwhelming need to still protect him, as if she was all he had left.
When it was time, the guard escorted her into the visiting area to wait. Lucy chose a seat as far away from the others as possible. She couldn’t get used to associating herself with the other prisoners. It wasn’t that Lucy felt she was better than them, she just couldn’t face any questions which might lead to her getting her face smashed in. No one had discovered she was a probation officer yet, but it was only a matter of time.
Visitors were arriving, and Lucy eagerly sat up in her seat. There he was, Rory was growing up to be a handsome young man, and his girlfriend looked happy and content. She waited for them to come over to the table and for Rory to make the introductions. She hugged Rory.
‘I miss you, Lucy,’ Rory said shyly.
‘You too, little man, or not so little anymore.’ Lucy stood back and looked at him. He looked so much like his father, Lucy was taken aback momentarily. ‘And who’s this then?’ she turned to the young woman who clung to Rory’s hand.
‘Lucy – this is Emma. Emma Shand.’ He let go of her hand and Lucy went over to hug her. Lucy didn’t know if she was imagining things, but she thought she heard the young girl wince. Lucy stepped back.
‘Are you OK?’ Emma looked up at Rory and Lucy thought she saw a familiar glint in Rory’s eye.
Turning back to Lucy, Emma replied, ‘Oh yeah. I just slipped over the other day. A little sore still.’ She smiled weakly. ‘Really nice to meet you. Rory has told me all about you and what happened.’ Lucy looked at Rory who just shrugged his shoulders.
‘We don’t have much time and I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to. Please, sit down.’ Lucy pointed to the chairs across from her.
There was a strange vibe in the air. After a slightly uncomfortable conversation, Lucy noticed that the hour was coming to an end. She asked Rory to tell her all about his plans. He talked about attending college, moving into his own flat when he could, and how he was using the money that Lucy set up with her wages to help him. Despite the charge, she had only been suspended pending investigation, so she ensured that her wages, once the bills and mortgage had been paid, would go to Siobhan and Rory. She smiled.
‘I’m so proud of you, Rory. Do you see much of Siobhan?’ Lucy worried about Siobhan every day. Once she was sentenced for Patrick’s murder, the special guardianship would be officially revoked, and the social worker informed her that Siobhan’s grandparents would be granted a residency order for her. Lucy felt a tear escape her eye.
‘Hey, don’t cry. Siobhan’s doing great! I still see her as much as I can. She is still slightly angry with you, but I tell her every time I see her that what happened wasn’t your fault. She just doesn’t understand. Not yet. But she will.’
Lucy squeezed Rory’s hand.
‘Thank you.’
‘After everything you’ve done for me, it’s the least I can do.’
Lucy’s eyes widened. Looking at Emma, she whispered, ‘Rory, you can’t say anything. Never. Do you understand?’
Rory had a funny look on his face. He didn’t respond, but instead turned to Emma and then back to Lucy. ‘Just going to get something from the vending machine. Long journey back. Two secs.’
That’s odd.
Lucy reached out to touch Emma’s arm to thank her for coming, but Emma snatched it back.
‘What’s wrong? Do you need to go to the doctor and have your arm checked? Maybe you fractured something when you fell?’
Emma turned red and shook her head. She looked over her shoulder and appeared to shrink into her seat. Suddenly things became clear to Lucy.
‘No … no … No!’
Rory was making his way back to the table.
‘You can’t stay with him, Emma. You need to leave. Please, tell me you will, or all this will have been for nothing!’
Fear overcame Emma and she whispered hurriedly, ‘I can’t. He’ll kill me …’
Rory arrived at the table and Lucy grabbed his arm. ‘Please, Rory: tell me it’s not true. Please!’
He looked at Emma sternly.
‘Time to go. Lucy, let go of me.’
Lucy held his arm. He stared straight at her. She definitely recognized that look. It was Patrick’s.
‘We have to go now, Lucy. Let go of my arm.’ He pulled away sharply.
Lucy staggered. She put her hands over her eyes and fell to her knees. She was shaking uncontrollably, and felt a shiver down her spine.
Lucy heard him say as he walked away, ‘… like father, like son I guess …’