She brought back her swollen wrist, revealing her old scar and slapped him across the face. Her breathing quickened and her eyes welled up. ‘How dare you!’
He dropped to his knees in front of her and grabbed her hair. ‘You know something, Samantha was just like you were back then. I know, she practically flung herself at me. I didn’t want to but I thought why not? Let’s get to know her better, work out why she was the way she was. You know something, I sort of hate myself for getting close to her. She used me, you know. Just wanted to make that stupid married man jealous. I wasn’t the only man she used either.’
‘If you’ve hurt her, I’ll—’
‘What? Stupid, frail, little Diane. What makes you think I hurt her?’
Her mind flashed back to the phone call. ‘Did you leave the card and break into my house? Did… did… you call me yesterday?’
A grin spread across his face. ‘Someone’s been calling you. Who knows? Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Maybe I’m screwing with you, after all, you screwed me over all those years ago. Maybe I’m not screwing with you and it was one of your old clients hoping for one last shag before you fall apart.’ He laughed, his glassy-eyed gaze fixing on hers.
‘It can’t be.’ No one knew who she was any more. She remembered a particular client who became more violent than the others, the one who burned a circle in her brother’s buttock with his cigarette, the one who dragged him out of the house in just his underpants and left him crying in the snow, humiliating him and holding her hostage for three hours. Her heart broke as she thought about what they’d been through but they’d needed the money. Her heartbeat sped up another notch as she realised she could have at least tried to prevent all the bad things that they had both gone through.
Her past was finally catching up with her through her brother’s anger. He’d always kept his distance but now he was letting it all out. They were just kids at the time and she acted in the only way she knew how following the death of their mother. ‘What are you trying to tell me? I can’t work you out. That call wasn’t to do with the past. It was to do with Samantha, I know it.’
‘You’re assuming it was me! Always going against me like you always did. How do you know it wasn’t to do with the past? We’re in a different age now, we have Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Anyone can find anyone now. You’re there for all to see. It’s impossible to hide and you know what, if your past comes back for you, it takes me with it. Whose fault is that? Or maybe, just maybe, the past needs to come out.’
Head in hands, tears dripped into her lap, soaking her dressing gown. ‘I’m sorry I let you down. I wasn’t much more than a child and we were both grieving for Mum.’
‘All those bad things happened to me and it was all because of you. That arsehole who used to make you cry like a baby for a lousy few quid, he didn’t stop at you. I bet you didn’t know that, did you? When you were out, he’d come over and threaten to tell everyone about you and I had no choice. I wish it was only his cigarette that had damaged me. You were too busy thinking about yourself though. Did you wonder why I was so quiet and shy, no friends, always on the outside of everything? Did you ever wonder why I used to scratch until I bled? No, it was always about you and how you suffered to make me happy. When we lost Mum, I needed you to be there but you went off the rails with your drinking and whoring. Look at you now, pathetic. We reap what we sow and look at what you’re reaping now. When I look at you, all I see is the past. You allowed them to hurt me and you need to pay.’
He was right. She’d done everything wrong. He’d never opened up like this. Resentment spilled from his mouth. She had no idea things were so bad for him or that he’d suffered so much. She sobbed and yelled as she thought about what her little kid brother had been through. ‘I’m so sorry, please forgive me. I need you to forgive me.’
‘I. Will. Never. Forgive. You.’
‘I need to know, did you hurt Samantha? Did you call yesterday? Was it you?’
He leaned forward, his nose touching hers. A faint smell of weed on his clothes. This was a smell she’d never detected on him before. He was mad, paranoid. ‘You’re asking the wrong questions. That’s your problem. She wasn’t family, I’m your family. I’ve just told you how hurt I was and all you do is ask about her. If only you’d cared about me as much as you did her. I was just a child! I was nothing to you. I’ve given you chance after chance to make it up but all you do is suck the lifeblood out of me with all your problems. All I wanted was for you to love me and care about me, the way you cared about Samantha.’
She exhaled as he pulled back from her, stood and kicked the kitchen cupboard. He paced back and forth as he wiped his nose and gasped. She knew he wanted to cry, she’d seen him act up like this as a little boy, only now his behaviour all made sense. He wouldn’t cry though, he’d always get angry and destroy something in the house. She remembered that little mousy-haired boy, a bit scruffy, always getting beaten up after school. He’d loved their mother so much, more than anything. She should have thought more about him and his feelings as their mother was dying before his very eyes. Instead she’d gone off the rails and expected him to fend for himself. That was her way of coping but she didn’t expect him to understand that. What happened next, that had been about survival in order to stay in their house and not lose her brother to the care system. She had promised her mother she’d never let him go, just before the heavy doses of morphine finally lured her into her final sleep.
‘I was never as good as Samantha. You’re a class act, aren’t you? Look at you now, pathetic, and it’s all your doing.’
‘Did you hurt her? Just tell me.’
He grinned as he grabbed the door handle and thrust it open. She watched it bouncing on its hinges as he hurried down the path. He was right. She was nothing. If her past came back and her community knew who she really was, who knows how they would react. The woman who slept with strangers for money while her little brother was in the next room. The woman who let her little brother suffer at the hands of those men. Her little brother who was no longer the kid she knew and loved before their lovely mother died. Tears poured into her lap. She’d done everything wrong. Her mother would have been so disappointed.
She shuffled out of the chair, back into the living room, slumping on the settee. Thoughts of him being hurt by that man, the one she’d allowed into their home, thoughts of Samantha and her past, and the fact that all this was connected, filled her mind. It should have seemed clearer now but all that she had were muddied thoughts. Her past was already back, her brother was making sure of it.
She reached for DI Gina Harte’s card. She should tell her about the phone call, even tell her that Samantha could have been having a relationship with her brother. Dropping the card, she realised she couldn’t. He’d be arrested and he’d hate her more. She couldn’t do that to him after all he’d been through. It would be the last straw. She’d already done enough damage by ruining his life.
Screaming, she reached into the magazine rack and pulled out the paracetamol, emptying them out on to the little table, one by one with her clumsy fingers. She didn’t want to struggle any more. She didn’t want to be in pain every day and she didn’t want to think about her unthinkable past, carrying such a heavy burden. She couldn’t tell anyone what she thought her brother had done. It was all her fault and she had to pay the price. Maybe then he would finally forgive her.
A memory flashed through her mind of her brother, pre growth spurt. The signs had been there but she’d been so wrapped up in her own misery – the bedwetting, the anxiety, the inability to mix easily with his peers. She was guilty of not only ruining her life, but his. It was all her fault, her brother’s pain and Samantha’s disappearance.Hurry up and die– his words were loud and clear. She stared at the tablets through teary eyes. If only she was brave enough to take them.
Fifty-Five
Gina tapped her fingers on the desk as she watched Jacob and Wyre re-interviewing Dawn. The woman suddenly seemed keen to talk, claiming that she’d failed to mention something in her previous interview.
Steven had long gone, leaving Dawn alone in the station. She glanced at Briggs. He was never going to leave her alone during this case, always with her like she needed to be constantly monitored. She silently ground her teeth as she thought back to the photo that Hayley of Blossom Bouquets had sent to her. He wasn’t going to get away with continuing where his brother had left off. She’d told Briggs that Steven was playing with her and they agreed to keep what they knew separate from the case. He spoke to the team, telling them of her position in the case, making her feel like an open book, something she hadn’t really felt during her career to date.
‘Dawn, just go over what you said about the evening,’ Wyre said.
She wiped her nose with the crumpled tissue. ‘He was disappointed that nothing had happened for him that night; that he hadn’t slept with anyone. I knew from looking at the invite online that it wasn’t going to be a swapping party, it was more about meet and greet, getting to know new people in the area that had these same interests.’ She ruffled the tissue and pieces of it broke away and fell to the floor. ‘He kept poking me in the ribs saying he was still going to bag a shag as he called it and that I had to try, that it would turn him on. That’s when Sophie’s husband smiled at me. I’m not sure if it was the wine or if I really liked him but before I knew it, I was in his car and we’d left Steven talking to his wife.’
‘And?’ Wyre leaned forward, head slightly tilted as she tried to put Dawn at ease.
Gina shook her head. ‘Dawn wasn’t at the party when this happened. She can’t tell us anything.’
