Doreen Green walked briskly along the road as she left the shop. She was wearing a uniform, of sorts: a black polo shirt and trousers, a logo on her chest.
Jayne had been into the shop once, to check the name tags, and she knew she wouldn’t have to wait long. The shop closed at six, so all Jayne had to do was be patient. Doreen headed out just after six.
Jayne fell in alongside her. ‘Doreen Green?’
She jumped, startled, before slowing and saying, her tone wary, ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘I’m an investigator working for a law firm. Our client has been arrested for murder, and we think the Walker family might be connected in some way. I understand you knew Leoni.’
Jayne didn’t know if that made any sense, but she guessed that Leoni’s name would get a reaction.
She was right.
Doreen stopped. Her expression turned from wary to hostile. ‘I won’t have her name spoken to me. Not ever.’
‘Tell me why.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
Jayne pointed down the street, to where she hoped Doreen lived. ‘Give me until we get to your house for you to tell me your story. I’ll leave you alone after that.’
Doreen looked in the direction she’d been heading, before nodding, her jaw clenched. ‘All right, until then.’
They set off walking together. ‘I might as well get straight to the point,’ Jayne said. ‘What do you know about Leoni Walker?’
Doreen ground her teeth and increased her pace slightly. ‘She killed my son, that’s what I know.’
‘How? I don’t understand.’
‘I think you do, or else you wouldn’t be talking to me, but if you want me to say the words, I will. That little bitch talked him into hanging himself. Pushed and pushed until he gave in, as if he was just sport.’
‘That’s a crime, isn’t it, to encourage someone to kill themselves?’
‘I thought the same, but I was told that she hadn’t gone far enough, that it was just two tortured teenagers exchanging messages of support.’ Her expression darkened. ‘Tortured? What the hell were they talking about? He was bullied. All the kids made his life a misery. I tried to comfort him, but have you any idea what it’s like to see your baby cry every night because he’s been picked on, belittled, and you can’t do anything to protect him. It used to break me every night. And then he met Leoni.’
‘How?’
‘Just a girl at school. Quiet, withdrawn. She was always on the edge of things. A spectator, not a participant, that’s what I always thought. An outsider, just like David.’
‘Did he like her?’
‘Of course, because she was the one person who treated him as an equal. She listened to what he had to say, became the person he trusted. That’s how it works. Don’t you get it? She was worse than all the bullies because he couldn’t spot her coming. She was setting a trap and he was too blinded by the idea that, for once in his life, someone saw how special he was.’
They reached Doreen’s house, and both stood at the gate, a small wooden one between a high privet hedge.
Doreen’s eyes narrowed. ‘Do you think she had anything to do with your case?’
‘I don’t know, honestly. Her father’s case might be connected to ours, and I wanted to speak to her so I could find out whether she thought her father was guilty.’
‘Her father’s case? What do you mean?’
‘Her father is Rodney Walker. He murdered two children over twenty years ago.’
‘He’s a murderer?’ She looked down at the floor as she thought about that. ‘That explains a lot. She told me he’d died, which was why she had to move to here, to live with that waste of a mother. She comes into the shop sometimes, because we sell this really cheap vodka. She always makes out like she’s going to a party, or there’s a special occasion, but you don’t get to look like she does from occasional drinking. But her father’s a murderer? It must be in her genes.’ Doreen had softened towards Jayne. ‘I haven’t got much time, because I’ve got to cook and we’re going to the social club later, but come in, if you want.’
Jayne followed her as they went inside. The house was quiet, seemed empty somehow. No pets, no noise.
Doreen put her keys down and said, ‘Do you want to see the messages she sent?’
‘You have his phone?’
‘No, but they were used in the inquest, so I got a copy from my lawyer. Wait there.’
She disappeared upstairs as Jayne took a seat. She’d been on the estate for just a couple of hours, and all she’d encountered was unhappiness. She longed to be somewhere else, just for some brightness.
As she thought about that, she realised that where she wanted to be was Highford, with Dan. Away from lying police officers and estates with sad histories. She wanted wine and good company, something familiar. Something fun.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Doreen’s footsteps on the stairs; she breezed into the room carrying some papers. ‘I had to print them off, sorry,’ and she handed them over.
Jayne read, her eyes widening.
‘These are all in the week leading up to when he died,’ Doreen said. ‘You can see her increasing the pressure.’
Jayne could see what she meant.
They started innocently enough, with Leoni asking how David was feeling, but then there was a sudden tone shift.
Your parents know how you feel, but they know they’ve lost you. They don’t want you to know but they are powerless to stop you. They accept it as inevitable.
And then, thirty minutes later:
Your mum found out you were looking at suicide sites but she didn’t say anything. You’ve hit that point, and they know you’ve hit that point. They’re preparing themselves for it.
Jayne looked up to Doreen, who held out her hands as if to say keep reading, tears in her eyes.
She did.
David had messaged back that he couldn’t do it to his parents, his mother especially, because she had always been there for him.
Leoni’s reply was callous.
Everyone will be sad for a while, but they will get over it and move on. They won’t be depressed. They know how sad you are and they know you want to do this, and I think they will understand and accept it. It will ease their pain, knowing how sad life makes you feel, and they will always carry you in their heart.
David replied that he was touched by what she’d said.
Leoni carried on: They will move on because they know that you’d want that. They know you wouldn’t want them to be sad or angry or feeling guilty. They know you’d want them to be happy, so they’ll try to do that, for you. You have nothing to feel bad about.
Jayne put the papers down, most of them still unread, but she knew she’d seen enough. ‘She’s encouraging him, egging him on. What did she tell the inquest?’
‘She said it was just talk, that they often spoke about it, like a game, how they were teenagers who were on the outside and obsessed with death. But they get worse. She told him how to do it, and even was on the phone to him when he died. Can you believe that?’
Doreen started to cry, but then waved her hands in apology. ‘I promised myself not to get upset ever again, because I wondered if that’s what she liked, seeing the effect. David died thinking that I wouldn’t be sad, which is stupid; but if that’s his dying wish, I’ll honour it, because he’s my son. Awkward, different, too sensitive for this world, but still my son.’
Jayne felt a lump in her throat and her eyes moistened. ‘Thank you for sharing it with me. Can I keep these?’ She held up the papers.
Doreen nodded, sniffling. ‘I’ve got them on my computer and saved just about everywhere. Promise me one thing though.’
‘Go on.’
‘Make her pay. If you can in some way, whatever way, make her feel her own pain. She destroyed David. She destroyed his father. She destroyed me. I want it to be my turn.’
‘I can’t promise anything.’
‘I know you can’t. But if the chance comes, don’t miss it.’
Jayne smiled. ‘I think I can promise that much.’