3.24 p.m.
The roundabout glistens with cars, locked tight together, little metal boxes full of irritated mums and cooped-up kids. Usually I know better than to attempt this roundabout during the school run, but I’m on my way to the police station.
Lloyd Neilson is being held there, following an arrest at school. Aged eleven, he is now of legal age to be taken into police custody.
The police station is tantalisingly close – just across the verge of grass and wild flowers. I want to get out and run to it. But I can’t.
The traffic inches forward and a half-space opens up. I throw my usual caution to the wind and shoot into it. I’m rewarded with a torrent of angry beeps, but today I couldn’t care less. Social work is no profession for cautious drivers, I’ve discovered. Cautiousness takes time.
The traffic creeps around the roundabout.
Come on, come on.
I rarely check my watch at work any more because I’m always late.
There. Shooting forward into another space, I receive more angry beeps. I put up a sorry hand, and hope they understand that I’m on my way to help a frightened eleven-year-old boy who is being treated like an adult by police.
Finally, I can see the red-and-white striped barrier ahead – the one that should lift and let me into the police station car park.
My phone rings. Tessa Warwick. It’s never a good idea to ignore Tessa. She’s like a bull, easily enraged and prone to charge. Reluctantly, I pick up.
‘Kate. Where are you?’ she demands. ‘I’ve just had a call from Pauly Neilson. He and his brother are home on their own. Lloyd isn’t there to reach the cupboards. They need someone to make supper.’
‘The baby isn’t home too, surely?’
‘No. The mother is off with her somewhere. God knows where.’
‘Leanne’s probably at her mum’s house. Ask Gary to give Jeannette Neilson a call. I’m on my way to the police station. Lloyd Neilson has been arrested and needs an appropriate adult.’
‘You’ll have to send Gary to the Neilson house then,’ Tessa decides. ‘Assuming you get held up at the police station for the usual four hours plus.’
‘Gary is a family support worker,’ I say. ‘He’s not trained to deal with that on his own. What if Leanne’s boyfriend turns up?’
‘Kate, sometimes you have to make these kinds of decisions. What other choice do you have?’
I want to bang my head on the steering wheel. ‘Fine. Okay. I’ll ask Gary to stay with the Neilsons.’
‘And pray nothing happens while he’s there.’ Tessa hangs up.
I approach the red and white barrier. ‘Hello?’ I shout into the intercom, attempting to text Gary at the same time. ‘I’m Kate Noble, Lloyd Neilson’s social worker and appropriate adult.’
No one replies, but the barrier clicks open.
I notice the little black windows of the basement police cells and wonder if Lloyd is down there, all fake bravado but secretly scared to death.
By the time I’ve crossed the car park, I’ve texted Gary and calculated how many hours I’ll be working late this evening.
Right now, I’ll be lucky to be home before midnight.
Col won’t be happy.
Inside the police station, I’m talked through the arrest, then shown down to an interview room where Lloyd Neilson is waiting – a skinny eleven-year-old boy with floppy black hair, who’s just been held in a police cell.
His hands are shoved tight in his trouser pockets, one foot balancing over his knee.
‘Where’s Mum?’ Lloyd asks.
‘She couldn’t come, Lloyd.’ I’m too tactful to add: Because we don’t know where she is.
‘Who took Joey home?’
‘Pauly did.’
‘Are they on their own, then?’
‘I’m sending someone over to be with them now.’
‘A man or a woman?’
I pause. ‘A man.’
Lloyd explodes, banging his fists on the table. He’s had bad experiences with men.
‘Look, let’s just get this police interview over and then we can leave,’ I say. ‘Can you tell me what happened?’
‘Those police assaulted me,’ says Lloyd. ‘Fucking dickheads. I wish they were all dead. They say I stole from the school medicine cabinet. But I never.’
It’s a game we play – me pretending I believe him, him telling me what I need to know.
‘So what did you do?’
‘Nothing. I was just messing around at the back of the field.’
‘They wouldn’t arrest you for that,’ I say. ‘There must be more to it.’
‘The caretaker thought he saw me with something, didn’t he? Fucking army sergeant Jones. But he got it wrong.’
‘And then what happened?’
‘He tried to put his hands on me. So I went for him – self-defence. And then that fat fucker sat on top of me and called the police. When I get back to school, I’ll kill him. And that pervert policeman.’
Lloyd was sexually abused by a neighbour when he was seven years old while his mother was absent. I imagine being sat on by the caretaker brought back some bad memories.
‘The police say the caretaker saw you with tablets.’
‘If I had tablets, where are they? Search the school, if you want. Search the office. You won’t find anything. Pervert Jones is lying.’
‘Did you hide them somewhere?’
Lloyd raises an eyebrow at me. ‘If I did, I’d be stupid to tell you, wouldn’t I?’
‘The caretaker says your brother was around during the scuffle. They think you gave the tablets to Pauly—’
‘They already searched him!’ Lloyd shouts. ‘Ask him, if you don’t believe me. They never found nothing. They’re lying.’
‘Pauly plays with Tom Kinnock, doesn’t he?’ I say.
Lloyd stiffens. ‘Who?’
‘Your brother’s friend.’
‘I don’t know no one called Tom.’
‘Well, there’s a Tom in your class, for a start,’ I say. ‘You told me you beat him up once.’
‘I don’t know any younger Toms, then.’
‘I’m surprised. You usually get to know your brother’s friends. It’s been a source of trouble before, hasn’t it?’
‘What are you saying?’
‘That you’ve asked Pauly’s friends to carry things, hide things. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d got a younger friend of Pauly’s to look after tablets so you wouldn’t be caught with them.’
‘Prove it.’
I decide to try another line of questioning. ‘Listen, the police are going to ask you this. Did your mum ask you to get medicine for her?’
‘No.’ Lloyd’s eyes become shifty, roaming the bare room.
‘But it’s an obvious link, don’t you think? Your mum has a problem with prescription drugs, and you’re caught breaking into the medicine cabinet. I’m here to help you, Lloyd. And I can only do that if you tell me the truth.’
‘No comment.’
It’s going to be a long night.