“That ought to do it,” said Mum, moving toward the Stables’ front door.
“Grab her phone, Mum!” Tess yelled. “Don’t let her leave!”
“Aaand that’ll now be in the recording too,” said Mum. “You didn’t think I’d press Recordagain, did you? Well, I just did, so your attempt to hide the evidence of you and your mother’s dog-murdering aspirations just failed. Thanks for that.”
“How dare you?” Lesley stood up and staggered forward. Mum took a step back.
Keys, I thought. I concentrated on it so hard, I became the word:keys, keys, keys. A fraction of a second later Mum noticed them, hanging from the front door lock on the inside. In a quick, seamless sequence (which must have been choreographed by Ricky; I don’t see how it could have happened so beautifully otherwise), she grabbed them, opened the door, stepped outside, closed the door, and locked the Gaveys in—all while Lesley was screaming at her that she was a demon and a C-word.
Then Mum and I ran as fast as Mum could (I could have got there much faster whizzing over on my own, obviously) to Corinne and Ismys House.
33
Thursday 20 June 2024
Sally
By the time Sally and Corinne arrive back at Many Frogs Hotel, Lesley Gavey’s confession has been played all over the world and (at the last count) 373,000 times. Ree has provided regular updates and has been extremely busy online since Sally sent her the recording from Swaffham Tilney. What Sally can’t work out is whether the Gaveys, or at least the two female members of the family, would have killed her if they’d had the chance. If she hadn’t thought of locking them in, if she’d stood still or not been quite so quick on her feet…what would have happened?
Her phone pings as she and Corinne are walking across the hotel lobby to the lift.More news from Ree,Sally thinks, and stops to see what this latest update is, though she’ll be in the same room as the rest of her family in less than five minutes. That’s not soon enough, though; she needs to know whatever it is right now this instant. Things are happening fast, and every ping so far has been something amazing and miraculous: rapidly rising numbers ofsupporters, the conversion on a mass scale of the previously unconvinced, whole extended families who have filmed themselves performing harmonized a cappella choruses of Champ’s night song.
This latest one’s the best yet: Ree has forwarded a photo of a… Sally can’t tell if it should be described as a tweet or a post, or which channel of the internet it hails from, but it’s a short statement from Cambridgeshire Police to the effect that they’re taking the recording of Lesley Gavey’s confession very seriously and will be investigating as a matter of urgency. Ree’s added commentary says, “Thats the actual feds awesome work mum gaveys going prison yay ahaha.”
Is that true? Sally isn’t sure. Is it a crime to bite your daughter and pretend a neighbor’s dog did it? Since dogs can’t commit crimes—which they can’t, because they have no understanding of the law—doesn’t that mean that trying to frame a dog can’t be illegal either? Cambridgeshire Police might take a dim view of it and will hopefully administer a stern rebuke, but is it an imprisonable offense? Sally doesn’t want Ree to be disappointed. She would love it if Lesley Gavey got sent to prison, but…
An uncomfortable thought accosts her: What if Lesley gets punished for the grievous bodily harm she committed against Tess’s arm (grievous bodily arm, Sally thinks) but not for what she did, or tried to do, to Champ? That would be awful. She should be,mustbe,punished for all the things or else it won’t be proper.
“So what’s it going to be?” Corinne scoops a handful of wrapped sweets out of the bonbonnière as they wait for the lift. “Are we going back to Swaffy T and fighting, now that we’ve got our proof and most of the world is behind us, or are we still running? Have you decided?” She presses a wrapped orange sweet into Sally’s hand.
“Swaffy T?” Sally makes a face. “Really?”
“Yeah, I’ve always called it that.”
Sally isn’t in the mood to give the village an affectionate nickname. The Gaveys live there, after all. “I’ve decided,” she says. “I can’t go back yet. Mark might, but I’m not. And most importantly, neither is Champ.”
“As I guessed!” Corinne laughs as they step into the lift.
“Did you? How?”
“Because you’re Sally Lambert, and Sally Lambert believes that even when things look very, very good indeed, you shouldn’t take even a 0.00001 percent chance when it comes to Champ’s safety.”
“Exactly.” Sally smiles. “I’m glad you understand. I’m not sure Mark or the kids will.”
“But, Sal—”
“I know. For as long as the Gaveys live there, the village won’t be safe for Champ. Unless they’re all locked up for a very long time…but let’s face it, that’s not going to happen, and I can’t be worrying every day that they might poison him or kidnap him. I know they’ll stop at nothing now.”
When the lift doors open on the fourth floor, Ree is waiting there. She throws her arms round Sally’s neck. Disentangling herself almost immediately, she says, “Mum, you aren’t going to believe it. Something absolutely incredible has happened!”
“What?” says Corinne. “Let me guess: King Charles has publicly called the Gaveys twats and decreed that they be exiled from his kingdom?”
Champ, Mark, and Tobes are standing behind Ree: an exuberant greeting committee. Champ rushes over to Sally and bouncesup and down on his hind legs, pawing at her and licking her face as she bends down to hug him. “Hello, baby boy,” she says. “Hello, my darlingest one. So, how many listens are we at now, guys?”
“The numbers are huge, but that’s not it,” says Tobes. “That’s not the incredible thing that’s happened. It’s Auntie Vicky. She’s saved the day. I mean, it was already saved, but she’s saved it even more.”
Sally frowns. This sounds unlikely. “My sister Vicky?”
“The very same.” Mark is smiling. “Apparently she’s been messaging you and you’ve been ignoring her?”
