Дэвид Муди - Strangers

A pause. The noise downstairs had stopped. They held their breath and waited until it started again.

‘Of course I’m not okay,’ Tammy answered, sniffing back more tears. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be okay here.’

‘You’ve got to stop talking like that, love. We are—’

‘—where we are. I know. Give it a rest, Mum.’

Michelle sat down on the bed, her legs tired from crouching. She stroked Tammy’s long hair. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘What have you got to be sorry about? You haven’t done anything wrong.’

‘Doesn’t feel that way.’

‘It’s not you… it’s him .’

‘Please don’t…’

‘But you should have seen him. You should have seen the way he attacked that bloke, Mum. He scared me more than anything else.’

‘I know Scott’s got a temper, but—’

‘He just kept punching him and punching him… there was blood everywhere.’

‘No matter what you think about what he did, Tam, it was for the right reasons. He was trying to protect you, trying to keep you safe.’

‘But I don’t feel safe. Not around Scott.’

‘You have to keep things in perspective. Think about how he was feeling, how worried we both were…’

Tammy sat up, held her mother’s gaze. ‘This was different, Mum. It was like he’d gone insane, completely lost it. It makes me wonder…’ She allowed her voice to trail away, not sure if she should continue.

‘What, Tammy?’

‘It makes me wonder about the body he found in that garden, that’s all.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘It just makes me wonder if he’s as innocent as he makes himself out to be.’

‘That’s just rubbish…’

‘Is it? Hell of a coincidence. All this stuff happened since Scott got here.’

‘You can’t talk like this, Tam.’

‘Why not?’

‘Just listen to yourself. You’re saying Scott’s a serial killer? Seriously?’

‘But you know better than anyone what he’s like, what he’s capable of.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘I don’t want him to hurt you more than he already has, Mum. You need to do something because next time might be too late.’

Michelle got up fast, her head full of thoughts she didn’t want to think, certainly didn’t dare vocalise. This was too much. On top of everything that had already happened, this was just too much…

The hammering downstairs had stopped. She rushed back down to Scott.

Not even six o’clock yet. It was barely even light. Scott had hardly slept. His arms felt like lead from all the work he’d done yesterday, he had to go to work in a couple of hours, and now some selfish fucker was banging on the front door at this hour. Michelle rolled over onto her back and groaned something he couldn’t make out. ‘I’ll get it, shall I?’ he said. Fucking useless family .

Scott grabbed yesterday’s dust-covered T-shirt and jeans off the floor and put them on again. The noise at the door continued. If they wake George up , he thought, I’ll have this fucker’s balls. He felt in the mood for a fight. Another fight.

He fumbled with the chain and the lock, then yanked the door open. The man on the doorstep surprised him. They’d met before at Kenneth Potter’s house. ‘Scott Griffiths?’ Sergeant Ross asked. Scott didn’t immediately respond with anything other than a bemused mumble and a nod of the head. The officer spoke again. ‘Scott Griffiths, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Graham McBride. You are not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say will be noted down and may be used in evidence. Do you understand?’

Scott looked at him, blank. Was this a joke? ‘Who the fuck’s Graham McBride?’ he said, then realisation dawned. Last night. Tammy. The pervert outside the phone box with his dick out. Scott’s legs weakened. ‘Shit…’

‘Do you understand, Mr Griffiths?’

‘I understand,’ he said, still not sure he did. ‘Murder? But I didn’t… It wasn’t my fault. He was exposing himself at my step-daughter and I just…’

‘I need to remind you that you’re under caution, sir.’

‘What the hell’s going on?’ Michelle demanded. Scott looked around to try and explain but he couldn’t speak, could barely even begin to process what was happening. His mouth was dry. ‘Scott?’ she said. ‘Scott, what’s this about?’

He just looked at her, then looked at the police officer, then shook his head. He felt numb inside… didn’t know what to do, what to say… Had he killed a man?

Sergeant Ross moved aside to let one of his officers cuff Scott. Scott didn’t resist. Didn’t do anything. ‘Get him in the van, Hamilton,’ the sergeant ordered before turning his attention to Michelle. ‘Mrs Griffiths?’

‘Yes…’ she said quietly, watching in stunned disbelief as they led her husband away.

‘We’ve witnesses who’ve identified your husband as being involved in an altercation with Mr McBride yesterday afternoon, during which Mr McBride sustained serious injuries. I’m sorry to have to inform you he’s since died from those injuries.’

The sergeant continued to talk, and Michelle continued to listen, though nothing she was hearing was making any sense now. She wanted to protest but what could she say? Scott had been in a fight yesterday, but he’d told her he’d just knocked the other man about a bit… just enough to scare him. Then she remembered how Tammy had described the incident. Jesus, exactly what had Scott done?

George was crying now. Tammy was downstairs. She was at the bottom of the staircase, just behind her mother. ‘Mum, what’s happening. Are they—?’

‘Go and see to George,’ Michelle interrupted, screaming at her daughter to move. But it was too late. Phoebe already had George and they were all crowded into the hallway now, watching Scott being bundled into the back of a police van and driven away.

The sergeant told Michelle in no uncertain terms to stay home and wait for news. All she could do was watch as the convoy of two patrol cars and the van turned right out of the drive and headed for Thussock.

Tammy shut the door. Michelle leant against the wall, then slid down to the floor and stayed there, feet sticking out across the hallway. Numb.

‘What’s going on?’ Phoebe asked.

‘They took Scott,’ Tammy started to explain.

‘Took him where?’

‘Where d’you think? The police station.’

‘But why?’

‘You tell me. You never know with Scott. I think he—’

‘He’s there because he tried to protect you,’ Michelle screamed at her.

‘I’m sorry, Mum, I just…’

‘This is your fault. If you hadn’t disappeared yesterday, none of this would have happened.’

Tammy’s visible shock turned to anger. ‘It’s not my fault. How is any of this my fault? Come on, explain it to me… I had to get out of the house because I was sick of the noise and the atmosphere – not my fault. The local pervert decides to flash his dick at me – not my fault. Scott decides to beat the crap out of him – not my fault. You marry a fucking idiot who makes all our lives hell, treats you like shit and knocks you about, then drags us the length of the country away from anyone and anything that matters to us when he fucks up – that’s not my fault either.’

Sobbing, Michelle got up and walked into the kitchen, her head spinning. Tammy followed her. Phoebe – eyes wide, nervous as hell, still holding onto George – didn’t move.

‘Scott messed up,’ Michelle said. ‘I get it.’

‘No, Mum, you don’t. Scott messed up again . We all get hurt because of him again . It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.’