Rory had driven right to the edge of town and then back again and parked outside a little row of shops near the leisure centre where I’d been swimming with Mum. They were all in darkness and closed up – it was the evening after all.
We got out of the van and he took my arm, obviously not wanting to give me a chance to make a run for it. Not that there was anything nearby really. Just a car park. Though I could see the roof of the leisure centre in the distance. I wondered how far away it was? That would be open, surely? There were probably some weirdos who wanted to spend Halloween night at the gym.
As we walked towards the shops, a group of boys – a bit older than me – ran round the corner, all wearing gruesome Halloween masks. They were shouting loudly and made me jump and then – ridiculously – burst into tears.
They’d obviously spooked Rory too because he tightened his grip on my arm and hurried me into a doorway at the side of the little parade of shops. Inside was a steep flight of stairs. He pushed me up and into the flat at the top, behind another door.
It was weird. There was nothing there to make it look like a home. There was a bookshelf with no books on it. An empty table. White walls and beige carpets. Like a holiday home.
‘Do you live here?’ I said, wiping my eyes with shaking hands.
Rory looked round like he was seeing the house for the first time. Then he nodded. ‘I’ve not been here long. Had to sell my old place. When Billie comes home I’ll get somewhere better. Somewhere with enough space for her too.’
‘It’s nice,’ I said, trying to sound polite, but horribly aware that my voice was thin and frightened. My mind was racing. His expression had changed when he mentioned Billie. Should I ask him more about her? I didn’t want to annoy him.
‘I was going to wait for you at school,’ Rory said. ‘I wanted to catch you before you went into your disco, but then I saw you walking and it was the perfect opportunity.’
‘For what?’ I wrapped my arms around myself, jamming my hands into my armpits.
‘I need you to do something for me,’ Rory said.
What did he mean? He came closer to me and I shrank away from him, not wanting him to touch me. Rory looked shocked.
‘Not like that,’ he said. ‘Not like your perv dad.’
I felt a tear run down my face and I wiped it away.
‘What then?’
‘I need you to read this out, and I’ll film it,’ he said, waving a piece of paper at me. ‘I’m going to stream it on the local news sites and send it to the TV channels. Because everyone needs to know the truth.’
‘What truth?’
‘That your mother is a scheming, lying, rape apologist bitch and she needs to be punished.’
I winced at his angry words, more tears falling down my cheeks.
‘That’s not true,’ I said.
‘Ah, but it is.’ He nodded. ‘And I need everyone to know so that Billie can come home.’
‘I don’t understand.’ I was bewildered. ‘What does my mum have to do with Billie?’ None of this made sense to me.
He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me so I was sitting down on the sofa. Then he started to arrange his phone on the coffee table in front of me. He had a little tripod waiting there, like the YouTubers I followed used, and he started to screw the phone into it, checking it was at the right angle. As he worked, he talked. Chatty and informal, ignoring my sobs and sniffs.
‘My daughter Billie wanted to be a TV presenter,’ he said. ‘She did media at uni, she did work experience at the local channels. All that. And then she got an internship on Good Morning Scotland.’
Suddenly I knew where this was going. Billie was one of the women my dad had … I shuddered. Rory saw.
‘I know,’ he said. ‘Your filthy father got his hands on her. And he made her …’ He looked sickened.
‘That was my dad’s fault,’ I said. ‘Not my mum’s.’
Rory didn’t answer. He just kept talking like I’d not spoken. ‘I knew she was finding her job tough. I knew she wasn’t happy. But I didn’t ask her why. And then I was reading the Sunday paper about your dad being arrested, and how your mum was standing by him. Billie asked if I believed him and I said that his wife was on his side. And she was a lawyer and she’d said that the rumours were made up.’
He glared at me. ‘And I said that I believed her. That she had to be telling the truth and that the women who were accusing Robertson obviously had a grudge against him.’ He looked stricken. ‘I said they were sluts who’d slept with him and then got annoyed when he wouldn’t leave his wife. I said he was a lucky bastard to have young women throwing themselves at him.’
I thought about Rory’s daughter, hearing those words from her own dad, and felt horribly sorry for her.
‘What did she say?’
Rory’s voice cracked. ‘She didn’t say anything. She just walked out of the house and she never came back. Wouldn’t take my calls. A week or so later, her mother called me and told me she was one of the women who’d accused Robertson. I wanted to support her, but she wouldn’t let me go to court. I sold my house to pay her legal fees and she wouldn’t take the money.’
‘And now?’
Rory shook his head. ‘I don’t even know where she is,’ he said.
I closed my eyes, thinking about how I’d loved my dad and how he’d let me down so badly. And I thought I’d never hated anyone as much as I hated him at that moment.
‘My dad is a shit,’ I said. ‘I hate him.’
‘He is,’ Rory said. ‘But your mum is worse. Because she made excuses for him. She stood by him. She said the victims were silly girls.’
‘She didn’t,’ I whispered. ‘She was talking about something else.’
But Rory wasn’t listening. ‘It is your mother’s fault that I lost my Billie. And when I saw her that day, in the Haven, sitting there without a care in the bloody world, I was so angry. I knew Billie wouldn’t come home if your mother was here.’
‘So it really was you?’ I said. ‘You did those things to us? The hanging witch and the skeletons?’
‘I wanted to scare you. I wanted her to feel pain like I felt,’ Rory said.
‘Did you hurt Hermione?’ I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
He laughed. It was a horrible sound. ‘I didn’t touch your stupid cat.’ Then he shrugged. ‘But I did find her collar unfastened and caught on one of the thistles in your front garden. I fastened it back up and left it on your doorstep.’
‘That’s horrible,’ I said. ‘Why would you do all these things?’
‘I wanted you out of town.’ His eyes were wild. ‘Billie won’t come back if your mother is here.’
‘She won’t come back anyway,’ I said. ‘It’s you she’s avoiding, not Mum.’
Rory lurched at me, his face close to mine. I could see a bubble of spit on his lip. ‘Shut up,’ he hissed. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
I curled my legs up and hugged them to me, trying to make a barrier between me and Rory.
‘I want your mother to know how it feels to know that your daughter hates you. I want her – and everyone in town – to know what a terrible person she is. And Billie will see it and know that I looked out for her. And she’ll know it’s safe to come back.’
‘What do you mean she’ll see it?’ I said, not understanding.
‘You’re going to tell your mother that you hate her.’
‘No,’ I said.
‘Yes.’
He’d finished fiddling with the camera now and he came to sit next to me on the sofa. I shifted over so there was more of a space between us. ‘I’ll do an introduction and then you’re to read out what’s on the paper.’
Rory handed me the sheet of paper and I took it. He’d not threatened me or been violent or anything like that, but there was a look in his eye that scared me and I was focusing on just doing whatever he told me to do.
I looked down, scanning the typewritten page. It was horrible, nasty stuff about Mum and Dad and the things they’d done – or not done, in Mum’s case, but that didn’t seem to matter to Rory.
‘And if I don’t read it?’ I said.
‘I will hurt you,’ Rory told me. His eyes were dark with hate. ‘I will hurt you and I will hurt your mother. All those other things I did were just games. I just wanted to scare you. Imagine what I can do if I really want to upset you.’
I was shaking. I took a deep breath to steady myself. ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I’ll read it.’
‘You need to sound like you mean it,’ he warned. ‘I need everyone to know what you think of her.’
I pinched my lips together and nodded.
Rory leaned forward and pressed record on the phone.
‘My name is Rory Baxter,’ he said. ‘My daughter was one of the women assaulted by disgraced paedo Alistair Robertson. I recently discovered that Robertson’s wife Tess had moved to my hometown and I was disgusted that she could go on with her life like nothing had happened.’
I thought that going on as if nothing had happened was the very opposite of what Mum and I had done, but I was too frightened to speak out. Rory went on: ‘I am here with Jemima Robertson, daughter of sicko Robertson and his whore wife. And she has something to say.’ He smiled at the camera. It looked odd on a face that had been twisted with hatred just seconds before. ‘Billie, darling, this is for you. You can come home now.’
He reached out and moved the phone and now I could see myself on the screen. My sticky-out skirt looked stupid now. Getting dressed for the Halloween disco seemed like days ago.
Rory pointed to my paper. ‘Jemima has a statement to read out,’ he said. ‘Whenever you’re ready, Jemima.’
Very carefully, I positioned my hands on the paper, with my thumbs in front and my fingers behind, hidden from Rory’s view. And then, I crossed my fingers, hoping Rory wouldn’t notice the gesture on camera but that Mum would see and know I didn’t mean anything I was saying.
‘My name is Jemima Robertson,’ I read. I made my voice sound mechanical and monotonous, so it was obvious I was reading and not speaking naturally. ‘I wish to state my intent to sever all ties from my mother Tess Robertson.’ I took a shuddering breath inwards and carried on. ‘I will no longer consider Tess Robertson to be my mother and I will no longer be her daughter.’
I was fairly sure none of this was legal or binding, but it sounded so plausible I felt sick just saying the words.
‘The reason for me disowning my former mother is because she is unfit to be a parent due to her support for my father who is a rapist and a paedophile.’
I stumbled over the words and Rory prodded me in annoyance making me jump. I swallowed again. My throat was so dry I wasn’t sure I could speak.
‘My former mother should also be in prison for her actions and I will be filing a police complaint against her immediately. She will no longer be resident in North Berwick and it will once again be a safe place to live.’
That was it. I’d read it all. I slumped against the back of the sofa, wanting to cry. Rory reached out and turned off the recording.
‘What now?’ I said, dully. ‘I’m guessing you won’t take me home.’
‘Now we wait for everyone to see it,’ Rory said with glee. ‘People love this sort of shit. Did you see how many people shared that missing appeal I made?’
‘That was you?’
‘Obviously.’ He frowned. ‘I thought it would be enough for people to put two and two together and realize who you were. But it turns out the folk round here are too wrapped up in their own worlds. So I had to be more direct. I posted pictures on the Haven’s page proving who your mum really is.’
I stared at him. ‘Is that why Mum doesn’t work there anymore?’
He laughed. ‘They sacked her? Brilliant.’ He looked at me. ‘That’s just the beginning.’
‘What did you mean about filing a police complaint?’
He shrugged. ‘We probably won’t need to bother,’ he said. ‘That was just for the shock value. If you’re prepared to go to those lengths, it shows how awful your mother really is. People love gossip and it’s so easy to spread rumours, especially when they’re rooted in the truth. By tomorrow your mother will be considered a villain by everyone in town. And I reckon she’ll be out of here by next week.’ He nodded. ‘And then Billie can come home.’
‘What about me?’ I sounded very young to my own ears. ‘I’ve said those terrible things.’
Rory looked like he couldn’t care less. ‘What about you?’
‘It’s not true,’ I said fiercely. ‘None of this is true.’
‘But it is,’ Rory pointed out. ‘Everything I’ve said is true.’ He gave me a horrible smile. ‘You and your mother are the witches, and I’m the witch-hunter.’
‘Fuck you,’ I said. I was filled with red-hot rage. This wasn’t my fault and it wasn’t my mother’s fault. I lunged for the phone, thinking perhaps I could call for help. But Rory was quicker. He pulled the tripod away and off balance, I stumbled awkwardly and fell hard against the edge of the coffee table. Immediately my nose began to bleed. Rory ignored me. Scared and sore, I crawled back onto the sofa and curled up in the corner, my cold hand to my throbbing cheek, and blood trickling, as Rory picked up his phone and watched the comments come flooding in.