THIRTY-NINE

Once Carson and her colleagues had established that nobody was in any physical danger, they retreated to the kitchen, but Helen was certain that they could hear the shouting. She guessed that the crowd still gathered outside could hear it.

‘I want to see my kids. Where are they? I demand to see my fucking kids . . . ’

Linda just sat there while her ex-husband ranted, as though she were well used to it. Looking on from just inside the door of the living room, Helen wondered if the man’s prodigious temper might be one of the reasons he and Linda had split up in the first place. Watching him stomp around though, she thought the man’s anger began to seem a little theatrical, as though he were playing the part of the furious father. Perhaps giving a performance that could be easily overheard was exactly the point.

‘You can’t stop me seeing my own kids.’

‘I know.’

‘You got that?’

‘Who’s stopping you?’ Linda said.

‘Yeah, well you’d better not try.’ Wayne Smart leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. He wore camouflage cargo pants and trainers; a green army jacket. Helen had no reason to believe he was ex-army, looking rather more like someone who fancied himself as a soldier. Someone who’d been turned down, perhaps. He was big enough, but a little bloated, with blond highlights and earrings in both ears. Helen had smelled booze on him as he’d pushed past her in the hallway.

Something he and Linda had in common.

Smart reached into the pocket of his jacket and took out cigarettes.

‘Not in here,’ Linda said. ‘This isn’t our place.’

‘I couldn’t give a monkey’s.’ Smart lit his cigarette and sucked in fast. He jerked a thumb towards the kitchen. ‘Let one of your pet coppers come and arrest me if they want. There’s enough of them.’ He took another drag, then turned and stared at Helen. ‘Who’s this?’

‘I’m another one,’ Helen said.

‘Yeah, well why don’t you piss off and join your mates? Me and my ex-wife have got things to talk about.’

‘She’s a friend,’ Linda said.

‘She’s what?’

‘An old friend.’

Smart turned to look at Helen again.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Helen said.

Smart studied her for a few seconds, genuinely curious, then shrugged and marched across to the window. He pulled a curtain aside and looked out. Helen was aware of the movement as the crowd shifted to look, of cameras flashing.

‘Shut that,’ she said.

Smart did not move. ‘You can’t tell me what to do.’

‘Shut it, or I’ll nick you.’

‘For what?’

‘I don’t know, for having shit hair?’ Helen stepped further into the room. ‘Or I’m sure I can make breach of the peace stick.’

Smart let the curtain fall back and turned round. He flicked cigarette ash on to the carpet. The anger had reappeared in his face, or been turned on again. ‘Where are Charli and Danny?’

‘Upstairs,’ Linda said.

‘Good.’ He walked across and sat down in one of the armchairs. ‘Go and get them.’

‘Why now?’

‘You what?’

‘Why do you suddenly care so much now?’ Linda leaned forward. ‘How long since you’ve seen them, eighteen months? How long since you even bothered to call?’

‘Yeah, well it’s different now, isn’t it?’

‘What, you suddenly a model father, are you?’

Smart stabbed a finger at her. ‘I’m a father who’s found out who his kids have been living with.’

‘You don’t know anything,’ Linda said.

The finger continued stabbing the air. ‘So, don’t come all high and mighty about who’s a model this or model that, because you haven’t got a leg to stand on.’

‘Don’t . . . ’

‘Because I’m not the one who chose to marry a kiddie-fiddler, am I? A child murderer, for God’s sake.’ He glanced across to bring Helen into the conversation. ‘Not that she was ever much of a mother to begin with. Not what you’d call “responsible”.’ He picked up the empty wine bottle from the table and dangled it between two fingers. ‘Still caning it, I see.’ He dropped his cigarette end into the bottle and banged it back down on to the table.

‘You finished?’ Helen asked.

Smart turned to her again. Said, ‘Nowhere near.’ He sat back in the chair, as if he had lived in the house for years. ‘Who did you say you were?’

‘She told you,’ Helen said.

‘Well, I’ve got no idea who you are and I’ve known her for the best part of twenty years, so you can’t be that bloody close.’ He seemed pleased that Helen did not have a quick response. ‘I tell you this for nothing though. However much of an old friend you think you are, I know her a damn sight better than you do.’

‘No,’ Linda said. ‘You don’t.’

‘She knows exactly what that pervert she married is like, and if she tells you any different, she’s full of shit.’

‘All right,’ Helen said.

‘And I’ll tell you something else.’ Smart leaned towards Linda and, for the first time, Helen sensed anger that was genuine; simmering and dangerous, barely contained. ‘If I find out that bastard’s touched my kids, you’ll be the one I’m coming after.’

Linda’s head dropped slowly.

‘Now I can arrest you for threatening behaviour as well,’ Helen said.

‘It was a promise,’ Smart said. He didn’t take his eyes off his ex-wife. ‘Not a threat.’ He let out a long breath and reached for his cigarettes again. ‘So, am I going to see my kids, or not?’

‘How do you know they want to see you?’ Helen asked.

‘Why wouldn’t they want to see me?’ He tried to light his cigarette, shook the lighter. ‘I’m their father, aren’t I? I’m not the pervert.’

‘Linda?’

‘Yeah . . . ’

Helen told Wayne Smart to wait, asked Linda if she’d be all right for a few minutes. Linda nodded.

‘What do you think I’m going to do?’ Smart asked.

Helen left without answering him, stepping out into the hall, careful to leave the living room door ajar. When she turned at the bottom of the stairs, she saw Charli and Danny looking down at her. They were sitting close together on the same stair, halfway up.

Like pyjama-clad toddlers who’ve crept down in the middle of the night.