Elisabeth Carpenter - Only a Mother

Luke lingers next to them, pretending to ponder the microwave rice.

‘…Brian Sharpe was in here the other day, Reg. Fuming, he was.’

Luke’s interest is piqued at the mention of the name.

‘Was it about that Craig lad?’ asks Reg.

The woman tuts. Luke imagines her rolling her eyes and sees her shaking her grey-haired bob out the corner of his eye.

‘Have you seen him, then,’ says Reg, ‘since he’s come back?’

‘Not yet. But you know me… I’m a busy person… I haven’t the time to spend getting involved in other people’s business.’

‘Right you are, Pam,’ says Reg. ‘Anyway, I’d best get off. Eileen’ll be wondering where I’ve got to with the paper.’

‘Oh, all right, then. See you later.’

Pam sounds disappointed. It seems she could have talked about it all day. Luke can’t resist – he knows the type; they love a bit of attention.

‘You know Craig Wright, then?’ he says.

‘ Know is a bit strong,’ she says, turning towards him and talking to Luke as though he were an old friend. ‘But I’ve lived here all my life. It was such a shock – I can’t get over it.’

He’s grateful she didn’t castigate him for eavesdropping; she’s probably used to it. She leans closer to Luke.

‘He’d better not start hanging round with young girls again. I’ll be straight on to 101 if I see any of that.’

‘How will you know who he’s hanging around with?’

‘I like to think I’m more observant than others around here. I’ve seen his friend, Jason, driving around – he’s got tinted windows on that flash car of his. God knows what he gets up to in the back of that.’

‘Does he still live on Croston Street?’

‘Yes,’ she says, narrowing her eyes at Luke. ‘You’re not from around here, are you? Are you a reporter?’

Luke holds up his hands.

‘You’re a canny one. Miss Marple’s got nothing on you.’

She looks pleased with his assessment and she smiles, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. They must be false – the woman must be in her eighties.

‘I like to look out for my community, that’s all.’

‘Is Craig’s dad not around?’

‘No… though there’s been plenty of talk about who the father is. Was a bit of a scandal at the time, although I like to think of myself as open-minded…’

‘Sure you do.’

‘They never expected anything like that from Erica. I mean, she never had boyfriends or anything… she always kept her head down. She must be good at keeping secrets – I didn’t have a clue that she was even seeing anyone. I suppose living with that mother of hers would’ve driven anyone a bit potty. She was always in Erica’s business, that Maria. She wanted Erica to go to university – make something of herself.’

‘Maria?’

‘Erica’s mum. Yes – it’s a youthful name, isn’t it? Anyway, she hardly let Erica go out on her own… would only allow her to hang around with Denise Nuttall – that’s her maiden name. Those two were always together until, well, you know… Anyway, when Erica got her job down the road, she had a bit more freedom.’ Pam leans conspiratorially towards Luke. ‘Although that freedom must’ve gone to her head, if you know what I mean. And of course, she went back to work a few years after Craig started school… well, she had to after that terrible business with her mother… fifty-four’s no age at all. Did you hear about that? Found dead at the bottom of the stairs. You know, sometimes I wonder… it’s not surprising Craig turned out as he did. And his friend, Jason. Well, those two were close… some even reckoned… you know… that those two had a thing.’ She cocks her head to one side and raises her eyebrows. ‘Like I said, I’m open-minded, but it wouldn’t have been right, not in those circumstances.’

‘I see.’

Luke has no idea what she’s going on about. Pam narrows her eyes at Luke, tilting her head.

Luke fishes a card from his inside pocket.

‘I’m looking into their family history,’ he says, thinking on the spot. ‘But don’t let anyone know, will you? Here’s my contact details – if you think of anything else, give us a bell. I’ll even give you a mention if you want – or if there are any events you’ve got going on, I can give you a plug.’

She takes the card.

‘I’ll have a think,’ she says, grinning and placing the card against her chest. ‘Oh, you’ve made my day.’

She pulls out a piece of paper from her pocket and writes on it.

‘I’ll give you my number too, in case you think of any other questions. My name’s Pamela, by the way. Pamela Valentine.’

‘Nice to meet you, Pamela.’

That’s one Valentine he’d be disappointed receiving on the fourteenth of February.

Luke leaves the shop and jumps into his car, feeling nauseous at the thought of knocking on Jason’s door.

He reaches the house in minutes. Outside is a black BMW 5 Series. It must’ve cost ten grand at least.

Luke gets out of his car.

The front door is red, spotless. He bangs on it using the lion-head door knocker.

The door opens, but not so much that Luke can get a look inside the house. It’s a woman of about thirty-five; she’s wearing far too much make-up to be lounging around in a dressing gown.

‘Is Jason in?’ says Luke.

She narrows her eyes and pulls the collar of her dressing gown together, resting her hands on her chest.

‘Who’s asking?’

‘I’m Luke from the Chronicle . Just wanted a quick word.’

‘Who is it?’ shouts a man’s voice from inside.

‘Some journo,’ the woman hollers back.

Another hand grabs the door and opens it fully. Jason. He has dark hair with flecks of grey, and his face is clean-shaven. His shirt is expensive-looking, and he’s teamed it with jeans and loafers.

‘I’ll deal with this, Becks,’ he says. His voice is quiet, well-spoken, even though Luke knows he grew up in this town and is as northern as the rest of them. ‘Liv wants some more toast.’

‘Is Liv your daughter?’

‘Yes. Why are you here?’

‘I’m doing a piece on Jenna Threlfall. You knew her, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah, we went to the same school,’ he says, frowning, ‘but we weren’t close. Listen, you’re wasting your time talking to me, I don’t know anything.’

‘Did Craig ever go out with her?’

‘No.’ The man takes a deep breath. ‘You’re chasing the wrong story here. What happened to Jenna had nothing to do with Craig. Don’t you think he’s been through enough? And his poor mother. Do you know what people round here have done to her? They covered her front door with dog shit, they spat at her in the street, she was ostracised. But she stayed here for Craig.’

He goes to close the door. Luke’s tempted to place a foot inside but imagines it might not come out in one piece. His rant about Craig and Erica has left Jason red in the face. The door opens again.

‘You’re not allowed to name Craig in connection with Jenna, you know,’ he says. ‘We had all this years ago. It wasn’t taken to court – so leave him alone.’

‘I just want to know what Jenna was like as a person – who she hung round with.’

‘You’re the reporter – do your fucking job. I’m not doing it for you.’

He slams the door shut.

Luke takes a few steps back, glancing up at the bedroom window. Rebecca is now dressed, her arms folded as she stares at Luke. She gives him the briefest of smiles but he’s unsure whether it’s mocking or genuine. She tilts her head to the side.

He gets back into his car and switches on the engine. Jason seemed clued up about the legalities of naming suspects in connection with crimes. Luke’s sure he knows more about Craig and Jenna than he’s letting on, but he’s covering for his friend. Why would he flip like that – calm one minute and raving the next? He’s definitely hiding something. Luke looks back up to the window, but Rebecca has gone. Jason might not talk to Luke again, but she might.