Cath Staincliffe - Dead To Me

Janet sometimes thought it was as if Taisie, realizing Elise was a high achiever, motivated and hard-working, the swot of the family, had decided to carve out a different niche for herself in reaction. Wayward, bolshie, bold. At the end of the day, Janet wanted both her girls to be happy. Unlike Ade, she didn’t care overmuch if Taisie shunned the academic route, but she passionately wanted her to do well in some field, to know the sense of achievement, the boost to self-esteem, the sheer engagement that came from a job well done, from having skills and being a success. Whenever Taisie showed any glimmer of interest in something: street dance, ice-skating, guitar, woodwork, Janet was 100 per cent behind her: encouraging, interested, shelling out for all the gear. And all too often Taisie’s interest faded as quickly as it had blossomed. The roof space was half-full of discarded tennis racquets and jewellery-making kits, magic sets and martial arts outfits.

‘How do you think he feels?’ Janet held up the phone.

‘It’s only a joke,’ Taisie said.

‘I’m not laughing. Would you like it if it was you? Would it make you laugh?’

‘I wouldn’t care,’ Taisie said dismissively, with a toss of her head.

‘You think?’ Janet said. ‘And if it was me or your dad?’

She didn’t say anything.

‘This is a form of bullying.’ Janet sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I don’t want you to be a bully. You’re better than that.’

‘It’s not,’ Taisie began, though Janet could see the alteration in her expression, a hint of embarrassment.

‘It is,’ Janet said, ‘and it can start with a picture like this, and then another, and then something worse, something online. And everyone’s having a laugh, but it gets nastier and people say awful things, mean and hurtful things.’

‘We didn’t mean anything bad,’ Taisie said, her voice small, mouth turned down.

‘The police get involved sometimes, you know. Intentional harassment – it’s taken seriously.’

Taisie stared at her, her face a mix of anxiety and bravado.

‘Exactly this sort of thing,’ Janet went on. ‘Bullying.’

‘He’s a teacher,’ Taisie said.

‘Doesn’t matter. He’s a person, he’s a human being. You don’t have to like him, but you treat him the same as you’d want for yourself.’ Taisie had gone quiet. Janet knew she was getting through to her. ‘So how are you going to make this right?’

Taisie shrugged, a jerk of the shoulders up and back, one fingernail scraping at the nail polish she’d tried last week.

At ten ? Ade had said, tarting herself up, rampant sexualization .

It’s hardly nipple tassels and a thong , Janet had replied . You make a fuss and she’ll push it further, you know what she’s like .

‘Absolutely no idea?’ Janet prompted Taisie.

‘Delete it.’

‘Be a start. And you could tell your friends to do the same, and tell them your mum’s talking about opening an investigation if there’s any more of it.’

‘Mum!’

‘It’s not a joke,’ Janet said. ‘So you do that and then give me your phone.’

‘What?’ Taisie glared at her.

‘No phone for a week. No MSN – the lot.’

‘That is so not fair. That is tight!’

‘Yep,’ Janet said. ‘So maybe you’ll think twice next time.’ She got up to leave. ‘And tell whoever did the photoshop that the tutu was too small,’ she added on her way out.

‘It was the only one-’ Taisie stopped abruptly, but not soon enough.

Gotcha! Janet paused at the door. Taisie had the grace to blush. Perhaps art was the way to go? Or IT? Collage or photomontage her thing. Get her a camera for Christmas, given her recent surge of interest in photography. How much was a decent camera these days? Too much? Ade could do some research.

Elise was on the landing, pretending to come out of the bathroom. ‘Heard enough?’ Janet asked her.

‘Is she grounded?’ Elise said. ‘Have you taken her phone?’

‘No phone for a week. But you could have waited till I got back, let me deal with it.’

‘She’d have wiped it by then,’ Elise protested.

By the time Janet got downstairs Ade had arrived and she had to fill him in on it all, and when she finally did get to bed she remembered she still had to sort out her mum’s birthday present. And she worried about Taisie. She did her best, but what if it wasn’t enough? What then?

I did my best , Denise Finn had said. We all do. Until it goes wrong and all you can hear is that mocking voice inside, nagging away: Could I have done more, done it differently ?

Ade snored all night. She kicked him every so often and he made huffing sounds and turned over and after a few minutes he was off snoring again. By the time she sat down to plan an interview strategy for Sean Broughton the next morning she felt dog rough. Damned if she’d let it show though.

AS IN THE first interview, Janet reminded Sean that he was not under arrest and was free to leave; she made it clear he did not have to answer any of the questions and could ask for a solicitor if he wished. She thanked him for coming in.

Once again Rachel made notes.

Janet had taken Rachel through the strategy, showing her how she aimed to first recap with Sean his existing statement and then ask more probing questions about the details that concerned them: the missing shopping, the missing phone, the lapse of time between Sean’s alleged discovery of the body and the 999 call. Rachel had listened carefully, stopped to clarify points, clearly fascinated. ‘Anything else you suggest?’ Janet had invited her to contribute.

Rachel thought for a moment. ‘The knife, the weapon – could he tell if there was one missing? Did he remove it from the scene?’

‘What do we know about the weapon?’

‘Not much. According to the post-mortem, it’s a medium-sized kitchen-type knife,’ Rachel said.

‘Was it in the flat or brought to the flat?’

Rachel shrugged. ‘We don’t know.’

‘Are we sure a knife was used?’

‘Well, a knife or similar implement.’

Janet studied Rachel; she hadn’t picked up on the difference between discussing the weapon and the other items. ‘We can’t demonstrate any of those things,’ Janet explained. ‘No conflicting evidence, so we can’t prove or disprove what he’s telling us. Whether he’s lying. But with the shopping, the phone, and timing of the emergency call we have distinct evidence, separately acquired, which we can use to test Sean’s account.’

‘Catch him out.’ Rachel gave a nod of understanding, a glint in her eyes. ‘I want to go for tier three.’ Janet caught a glimpse of the girl’s ambition, her hunger to learn. Now all she needed was to apply that willingness to all the areas of the job instead of just the bits she liked.

Sean appeared to be calmer than on the previous day. Numb around the edges. Eyes still bloodshot, though. Had he slept?

Janet had decided she would open with the phone call to Lisa. This wasn’t one of the three key areas, but it remained an anomaly. Would his story have changed? ‘Yesterday, you told me that you rang Lisa shortly after one o’clock. And we’ve been able to confirm that from phone records. Please can you tell me again what the phone call was about?’

‘I wanted to know when she’d be back, like,’ Sean replied, ‘and she said about half three.’ Although she was practically home by then.

‘Was there anything unusual about the call?’

‘No,’ he said.

‘You told me yesterday that Lisa had gone shopping, that’s correct?’

‘Yes,’ he agreed, perhaps a tinge of uncertainty underlying the answer.