Jane Renshaw - Watch Over Me

Mister’s raging. But if Flora was here right now, if she walked through that fucking door, it’d be Missus got to the bitch first, no question.

I goes, ‘We’re planning to confront her on the programme.’

‘She should pay for what she did!’ goes Mister. ‘For murdering our daughter! Oh, she pulled the wool over the judge’s eyes all right, but that wasn’t manslaughter. She was shouting at me and I just did it! I didn’t mean to kill her! How do you not mean to fire an arrow into someone’s brain?’

I nod. ‘Of course, we’re duty bound to give both sides. Gail Boyle gave evidence at the trial that Tricia had been goading Rachel to shoot Gail. That she wanted Rachel to kill her, and then the two of them would say Matthew did it. His prints would have been on the bow and arrows…’

Mister makes like he’s gonnae jump up and pagger me, but Missus grabs his arm and goes, ‘That Gail – she was in on it, I’m sure she was. She wasn’t just an innocent witness. If she was tied to a tree, how did she get free? It was Gail who came and got me. She said that after it happened, after Tricia… She managed to pull her hands free and run to the house. But she was obviously in on it. That nonsense about Tricia telling Rachel to shoot Gail was obviously a complete fabrication . I mean, really – to suggest that Tricia wanted Rachel to kill Gail in order to frame Matthew for murder ? It’s completely absurd !’

‘Your son also gave evidence for the defence…’

‘Matthew was troubled,’ says Mister.

‘It was a tremendous shock for him,’ says Missus. ‘Losing his sister like that. He was fourteen years old.’

I nod. ‘But he told the court that Tricia was violent. That she enjoyed inflicting pain…’

‘That’s rubbish. Yes, they fought sometimes, but what siblings don’t?’ She turns to Connor. ‘Have you brothers or sisters?’

Connor nods. ‘Aye, sibling rivalry’s what you’d call a weapon of mass destruction in our house, eh M–’

‘Thank you Kieran,’ I goes. ‘So what Matthew was referring to was really just the normal rough and tumble of family life?’

Missus gives me a grateful wee smile. ‘Yes, that’s exactly it. Tricia was a lovely girl. Very warm, very kind and considerate. All this nonsense about bullying – that was all Rachel. Before she became friends with Rachel, Tricia had never been in any trouble. Not really.’

‘So you had concerns about Rachel before the –’

‘Oh, call it what it was!’ goes Mister. ‘Murder! It was murder! How could that evil little monster have possibly not meant to kill Tricia?’

I nod. ‘You’d concerns about Rachel from the get-go?’

‘Yes, we did,’ goes Missus. ‘She was a mousy little thing, quiet… watchful, in a very unsettling way… She’d sit watching me while Tricia burbled on. She was polite, she always said please and thank you and offered to help with the washing up… but I always thought there was something… not quite right about her.’

My feelings exactly. My fucking feelings exactly.

Thank God for bad mothers, thought Flora, watching Selina Wright, elegant in white shirt and skinny jeans, Mulberry bag hanging from one elbow, light up a fag behind the Forsythia before bolting for the garden door and freedom. Her brood of five – or was it six? – were screaming their heads off at the bottom of the garden with Beckie and the only other three kids who had turned up to the party. Selina’s daughter Miranda was in Beckie’s class and had been invited, but her numerous siblings hadn’t been. This was an opportunity, though, for Selina to unload responsibility for a few hours, and no way was she passing it up just because Beckie’s parents were reputed to be violent towards pregnant girls and children.

It was the same story with the hyper little boy, whose parents were obviously just grateful for the respite. And Mia’s mum, Flora suspected, was taking full advantage of the opportunity to rile Ailish. ‘Sorry Ailish is being such a bitch,’ she’d even grimaced as she’d unloaded Mia from a Land Rover that looked like it had just returned from a war zone.

The only other kid who’d turned up was Edith.

Her mother Shona hadn’t come in with her – she’d turned away from the door without once making eye contact, but Flora had told Edith to go through and find Beckie’s dad, and followed Shona down the path to the pavement.

‘Sorry Shona, can I have a quick word about… well, about Beckie and Edith?’

The other woman, pulling her bag up her skinny shoulder, had shot her a sideways look.

‘I’m so sorry about the bullying – I hope there haven’t been any more problems?’

‘Oh no.’ A nervous smile past Flora’s left shoulder.

Flora smiled nervously herself. ‘The thing is… I’m concerned that another child might be bullying Edith and stealing her lunch.’ This was, after all, a possibility. ‘Has she said anything to you about that…?’

Shona shook her head, her gaze now on the pavement.

‘Right. It’s just… I’m a bit of a “feeder”, as my friend calls it, and I always pack far too much lunch for Beckie, and Beckie says Edith has been eating the extra food and seems… well, really hungry. So I think there’s something going on there. I’ve mentioned it to Mrs Jenner, in fact…’

Shona’s eyes met hers for a millisecond. ‘I – thank you.’

‘No no – there’s no need to thank me. As I say, I’m such a feeder! But –’

‘I suffer from depression and I’m not always…’ The poor woman was twisting the strap of her bag. ‘I’m not…’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Flora touched her arm.

‘I’m not always able to look after her properly, I know that, I know Edith is suffering for it. Her dad wants custody.’

‘Oh Shona. Would you like to come in for a minute? I – I do understand, I think, a bit. I… Recently, I’ve had some problems myself. Please, come in and have a coffee… or maybe some iced tea?’

For a fraction of a second Shona hesitated, and then, like a frightened deer, shook herself and backed up. ‘Thank you, no, thank you, I have to…’ And she turned and half-ran away down the pavement.

Oh God. Poor Shona.

Poor little Edith.

Edith hadn’t stopped smiling nervously since she’d got here. Flora had taken Beckie to one side and told her that Edith’s mum was having problems and wasn’t well, a bit like Flora hadn’t been well, and Edith didn’t have her dad at home like Beckie did, so poor Edith wasn’t eating properly and wasn’t being looked after very well. But Beckie mustn’t tell anyone. ‘Because Edith might be taken away from her mum?’ Beckie had immediately realised, and Flora, after a moment’s thought, had nodded. ‘Edith is having a really hard time at the moment. I don’t think the problem is that she doesn’t want to be friends with you – I think she’s just very sad and, as you thought, lonely and maybe scared. I think she really needs someone looking out for her at school.’

Beckie had frowned, and nodded.

Now, Beckie was standing with Mia on one side and Edith on the other, and all three were poking at something in the grass with sticks, laughing. Edith poked her stick down too hard and it snapped, leaving her with a stump in her hand. Beckie, seeing this happen, swooped under a tree and returned with another stick, so big it was almost a branch, hauling it behind her with exaggerated effort until all three girls were in hysterics. Edith, accepting it from Beckie, pretended to stagger backwards, her face flushed.

Good girl, Beckie.

But what was she going to do about the whole Shona problem? Speak to Social Services? Karen at the Scottish Children’s Reporter Administration? But what if that meant Shona losing Edith? But maybe that would be the best thing for Edith?