After Sandy and Kath left, Den dived into the shower. It felt like the stench of the police station was sticking to his skin along with a crust of stale sweat. The trauma of being questioned, then seeing the paint daubed across the front of the café like blood in a slaughterhouse and coming face to face with Sandy – his nerve endings were too raw to cope with it all. He stood under the stream of water and let it rain down onto his skin.
Later he lay on his bed and scrolled through his phone. His name was everywhere, along with the vilest insults and threats. He could feel the sweat seeping out of his pores again. He’d already been judged and found guilty. Every message made him feel sicker and more panicky, yet he couldn’t stop looking.
A vigil was due to take place in the courtyard at seven. People were invited to gather quietly and light candles for Mina. Was it mad to want to join them? To show that he had nothing to hide? That he, too, was hoping and praying for Mina’s safe return?
When Mum tapped on the bedroom door, offering him some soup, he got up and joined her and Dad in the kitchen. Dad was subdued and conciliatory, treating Den like he was ill or had to be humoured. That changed when he raised the subject of the vigil.
‘No way, son. Are you out of your tiny mind?’ Dad was off on one again. ‘They’ll hang, draw and quarter you!’
‘It’s a vigil, Dad. A peaceful gathering. I haven’t done anything wrong. I want to show them that.’
‘You being there isn’t going to help. We’ve got to keep a low profile now. Hope that people move on to the next thing soon.’
There was no point arguing. But Dad wasn’t the only one with a stubborn streak. So when the time came, Den didn’t say anything but simply put his jacket on and slipped his phone into his pocket. Mum appeared at his side, with her coat on and a thick scarf over her head.
‘Linda, where are you going?’ Dad said.
‘I’m going to stand with the other mothers in this community. I’m going to stand with our son.’
It wasn’t often that Mum stood up to him like that. Den could see him processing the situation.
‘It’s like that, is it? Well, if you’re both going, I’m coming too! We’ll do it together.’
She put a hand on his arm. ‘Please, Tony. I love you, but we can’t have shouting or ranting this evening.’
He looked pained. ‘Linda, what do you think I am? Some sort of monster? I’m just going so we can be seen as a family sticking together. To show we’ve got nothing to hide. Come on. Let’s go. Stay together, though. Don’t split up.’
It was cold and clear outside. Den looked up and fancied he could even see a few stars in the darker pockets of sky between the streetlights. People were streaming past the café towards the flats, but there was hardly any noise – no chatter or banter. It was the same in the courtyard, a sombre gathering. He could see that flowers and yellow ribbons had been tied to a piece of railing. Tealights and other candles were being placed on the ground in front, creating a sort of garden of light.
‘We should have brought something, Mum,’ he said, feeling guilty at being empty-handed.
‘I’ve got these.’ She reached into her bag and brought out three tealights and a box of matches. ‘One each.’
‘You think of everything.’
He wondered if they should stay at the back. It felt like nobody had really noticed them and that suited him just fine. Despite saying he wanted to be seen there, he realised it was more about just being there. It wasn’t about him, or his family, or their business. This was about Mina.
Maybe Mum felt the same. She had stopped walking and had linked her arm through his, but now Dad tipped his head towards the front and started to make his way through the crowd.
‘Come on.’
Den and his mum exchanged long-suffering looks and followed in his wake.
A little to the side of the candles, Den could see Kath standing next to Sandy, with a female police officer nearby. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said that Sandy was looking bored. She was rolling her eyes, not looking at the candles or the flowers, like she’d rather be anywhere else. Beside her, Kath looked tired. Den managed to catch her eye as they got closer and she smiled. They were almost at the front, tealights in hand, when someone stepped brusquely in front of them.
Marlon was in Dad’s face, glowering past him at Den.
‘What do you think you’re doing here?’ he said. ‘For God’s sake, show some respect.’
‘That’s why we’re here, sir,’ said Dad. ‘To show respect like everyone else. To light a candle.’
‘No way, man. You’re not welcome.’
He was a big guy. His physical presence, this close, oozed threat. Den was painfully aware of his mum next to him, his need to keep her safe. He put his hand on Dad’s shoulder and leaned forward. ‘Dad, let’s go,’ he said, into his ear.
Marlon was still eyeballing him. Den tried to hold his gaze but he couldn’t. Instead, he looked down past his high-vis jacket to his paint-spattered trousers and heavy work boots.
‘Please stand aside, sir,’ Dad said, as if he hadn’t heard Den. ‘Let us light our candles and then we’ll go.’
Marlon didn’t move. In fact, he raised his hand up and pushed Dad in the centre of his chest, making him stagger back into Den, who himself was forced to step backwards. There were shouts of protest in the crowd behind him and someone jabbed at his back.
‘I said you’re not welcome.’ Marlon was walking forwards, shoving them, barging them back. People all around were looking – a ripple of awareness spreading out – and Den could tell they knew who they were now. Somebody jeered.
Mum tightened her grip on his sleeve. ‘Let’s go, Den. Tony! We need to go.’
Den looked down at her. Her face was creased with worry.
‘Okay, okay. We’re leaving.’
But Dad wasn’t going anywhere. Den could see him quivering like a testosterone-fuelled bulldog. This was going to end badly.
Then, out of nowhere, Den heard a female voice ring out. ‘That’s enough of that. Pack it in!’
Both Marlon and Dad looked in the direction the voice was coming from. The crowd parted to reveal Kath standing there in her padded coat and her mittens and with the streetlight reflecting off the lenses of her glasses. She lifted her walking stick from the ground and waved the rubber end at them.
‘We don’t want any of that here. We’re here to send our prayers for a little girl. Everyone’s welcome, as long as you’re quiet and respectful.’
‘Kath,’ Tony said, ‘that’s what we’re here for, to show some respect.’
‘And you’re not welcome,’ Marlon chipped in. Tension fizzed between them, like electricity in the air.
‘Stop that right now. This isn’t about you. Move away.’ Kath tapped at Marlon’s leg with her stick. Astonished, he stepped back a couple of paces, holding his hands up.
‘Okay, Grandma. Take it easy.’
Dad looked from him to Kath and back again. Den moved to his side. ‘Dad,’ he said, ‘we’re not helping things. Let’s just go.’
Kath nodded to him and they exchanged the briefest of smiles. Den put his arm round Dad’s shoulders and they turned round, gathered up Mum on the way, and walked to the back of the crowd. As they left, Den looked back over his shoulder. Marlon had disappeared, but Kath was making her way to the front. People were gently patting her shoulders and he noticed a cluster of cameramen training their lenses on her. He felt a surge of gratitude to her for defusing the situation so quickly.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, as they arrived back at the café. ‘That was all my fault.’
‘I did try to tell you,’ Tony sighed. ‘It was a bad idea from the start.’
‘People’s ignorance is not your fault, Den,’ said Mum.
‘No, but my foolishness is. How I behaved two years ago. I wouldn’t have been taken in if I hadn’t been on their list as someone to watch.’
She put her hands on the top of his arms, making him face her.
‘Everyone makes mistakes, Den. The foolish thing is not to learn from them. You’re young. You’re learning. I’m proud of you.’
He heard Dad snort, a noise that somehow meant more to him than a thousand of Mum’s kind words. Mum meant well, but no one would ever be truly proud of him while the stench of suspicion still clung to him. You couldn’t wash that sort of thing off. He would only be rid of it when the spotlight had switched to someone else.