The Night She Dies, page 21
‘I said I’d eat, okay?’
Amber doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t move either. She hovers at the end of Jess’s bed, staring – her expression both furious and upset. Jess needs her to leave; needs some space outside the glare of her sister’s eyes.
‘I’m really tired now though,’ she says. ‘I’ll get some sleep and then have some toast when I wake up.’
Amber’s face softens very slightly. ‘You promise?’
‘On my life.’ The words hang between them for a moment, then Amber shakes her head, lets out a resigned sigh, and leaves the room.
Jess rolls onto her back. Amber is right. She is slowly killing herself. And she doesn’t want to die – at least not always. Sometimes it feels like the easiest way out, in the middle of the night when the house is deathly silent and she can’t sleep, but those thoughts never last. She wants to escape her life, her future, not destroy it.
And there is another way.
It’s the cowardly thing to do, so she doesn’t understand why it’s so fucking scary. With just one phone call, the dread would vanish. And hopefully, with it, the tightness in her throat; her chest; her gut. Lou would stop crying; Justin might look at her again. And most importantly, Amber wouldn’t have to worry about losing her sister.
She can hardly move she’s so tired. But she forces herself to roll over, then sit up. Her phone is still in her school bag. She’s even lost interest in that over the last few months. The funny memes that mock her. The inspirational quotes that shame her. But this is her way out. She finds her social worker’s contact details with shaking fingers and presses on her number.
‘Hello, Gail Thompson.’
‘Um, it’s Jess,’ she starts. Her head is swimming now. She lies back down but keeps the phone by her ear.
‘Hi, Jess,’ Gail says, her voice slowing. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I can’t do it,’ she whispers. Tears bubble in the corners of her eyes.
‘Can’t do what?’ The words are blunt, but Gail’s tone is soft enough for Jess to keep going.
‘I can’t go to court.’
‘Oh, okay, I see.’ Jess imagines Gail’s mind whirring, her hair flaring with the static it causes. ‘I could talk to DS Sawyer,’ she suggests. ‘See if you could give your evidence by video link instead. There are lots of options for child witnesses. Would that be better?’
‘I can’t do any of it, Gail. Court. Telling everyone what I saw. Answering their questions. It was too long ago; I can’t remember anything.’
‘You’ll have a chance to read your statement—’
‘No, Gail. No. I just can’t.’
Gail hesitates. She knows about Jess’s issues with eating, her query anorexia except without a diagnosis because the waiting list to see a specialist is too long. ‘Jess, I’m really sorry,’ she says carefully. ‘But it’s not that easy.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you’re a witness in a criminal case. You provided a signed statement. The CPS decide whether it goes to court, not you.’
‘What? No!’ Panic rises in Jess’s chest. She pushes up against the headboard. ‘So how do I get out of it?’
‘You’re the only witness,’ Gail reminds her quietly. ‘Without your testimony, I imagine the CPS wouldn’t have a case. I’m sorry, but I don’t think you can get out of it.’
‘But I didn’t see anything!’ Jess blurts out.
A second lapses as Gail catches up. ‘What?’
‘Yes, sorry,’ Jess babbles. ‘I made it all up. I didn’t look through that window at all.’
‘Why would you do that?’ Gail asks. She’s trying to sound calm, but her quivering voice gives her away.
‘I … I don’t know.’
‘Did the boy, Sean Russo, force you to?’
‘What? No. Nothing like that.’ Jess pulls her knees up to her chest; wishes she could fold in on herself so tightly that she disappeared. ‘But I didn’t see anything, so the CPS won’t want me to go to court, will they?’
ONE YEAR BEFORE
Wednesday 17th May 2023
Jess
Jess turns onto her street. She’s feeling so much better already; even school was halfway decent today. When she told Gail last night that she hadn’t seen anything on the afternoon Sean was assaulted, and Gail had reluctantly offered to talk to the police on her behalf, she’d felt giddy with relief. She still couldn’t face normal food, but she’d gone downstairs and asked for some chocolate. Lou had watched on, rapt, as Jess gobbled down a whole Dairy Milk. And Jess had woken up this morning with some energy inside her for the first time in ages.
Lou and Justin’s house is nothing special. Paving slabs at the front, a PVC door, a few windows. Pebbledash on the outside, which Lou hates but Justin says they can’t afford to remove. But it’s home, and Jess feels a sense of peace descend as she slots her key into the lock and turns.
‘Jess, is that you?’ Lou’s voice is tight, stressed, and it stops Jess in her tracks. An image pops up in her mind: a car she didn’t recognise parked right outside the house.
She coughs. ‘Yeah?’
‘Can you come in the kitchen? Gail’s here.’
Jess’s shoulders drop. Didn’t she tell Gail everything she had to say last night? Do they really have to go over it all again face to face?
‘And, um, some police officers,’ Lou adds.
Jess reaches out for the newel post to steady herself. Gail was supposed to deal with it all; she promised that she would. She could run back outside, Jess thinks. But if she did, would they come after her? Tackle her to the ground in front of the neighbours? With a sense of inevitability, she kicks off her scuffed school shoes, and trudges into the kitchen.
The room is too crowded, and Jess instantly feels like she’s suffocating. Their table is supposed to seat four, but it’s always a squash, and that’s with her and Amber still being kids. Now there’s DS Sawyer, DC Blake and Gail all sitting down, plus Lou hovering close to the kettle.
‘Hello, Jess,’ DS Sawyer says, nodding to the empty chair. ‘Do you want to join us?’
No, I want you to leave my house. I want to go to bed and pretend you don’t exist. Jess sinks into the chair. To avoid eye contact, she stares at the garden through the window – a small patch of grass and a rusty trampoline.
‘So I understand you’ve changed your story?’ DS Sawyer starts. There’s an edge to her voice: accusing. She’s not pretending to be nice anymore. ‘Which, to be honest, was quite a shock to hear,’ she goes on. ‘A few weeks before the trial is due to start. So which is it, Jess? Are you scared to go to court, or did you really not see the incident take place?’
Jess keeps her eyes fixed on the window. Amber can do backflips on that trampoline, but she’s always been too scared to try. ‘I didn’t see it,’ she whispers. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry? Did you know that making a false statement is a crime?’ the detective says curtly. ‘And your evidence was critical to this case. There’s no way we’ll get a guilty verdict without your testimony.’
Jess’s eyes sting. It’s not like her to show her emotions, especially not in front of strangers, but she can’t keep them in. She’s tired. She planned to eat lunch in the dinner hall today but there was nothing she liked so she made do with an apple and a packet of Skittles from the tuck shop. ‘I just want it to stop,’ she whispers. She drops her head onto the table. The washing machine is mid-cycle, and she stares at the knickers and T-shirts being flung around the drum.
‘Jess has been through a lot,’ Lou reminds everyone softly. ‘Both a while ago, and more recently. I think the most important thing is to make sure she’s okay.’
Gail sits up taller, maybe realising that was her line. ‘Lou is right. Jess’s wellbeing must come first. If she feels that she made a mistake in her original statement, then we need to accept that.’
‘Let’s not forget, the defendant has always maintained his innocence,’ DC Blake says. ‘Very strenuously. If Jess didn’t see anything, then perhaps he didn’t do it. Maybe our first instinct that Russo picked up his injuries in a street fight – and just blamed Mr Rose because he didn’t like him – was correct all along.’
DS Sawyer stares at Jess, as though trying to drill the truth out with her eyes, but eventually she looks away. ‘Okay, well, I’ll speak to the CPS,’ she says with an air of defeat. ‘And I guess I’ll tell them that I don’t think we should charge Jess with anything,’ she adds begrudgingly. ‘It isn’t really in the public interest.’ She pauses for a moment. ‘But, Jess?’
‘Yes?’ Jess whispers, her voice trembling.
‘Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again, okay?’ DS Sawyer pushes up to standing, and her colleague follows suit. A chink of light sparkles dimly in Jess’s mind, the possibility that this might finally be over.
‘Wait,’ Lou says, lifting her hands. ‘Do we need to talk about Sean Russo?’
‘In what context?’ DS Sawyer asks, her hands resting on the top of the chair, her mind already onto the next case.
‘Well, he’s not going to be pleased about this, is he?’ Lou goes on. ‘The case against the guy who assaulted him – allegedly or whatever – being dropped. He’ll see it as Jess’s fault, and he’s a tough 18-year-old guy. What if he takes his frustration out on her?’
‘We have no record of Sean Russo being violent,’ DC Blake says. ‘He’s known to us, but for different offences.’
‘And how many assaults actually make it onto the police database?’ Lou throws back. Jess doesn’t know this Lou, the one who raises her voice. The strangeness of it makes her feel uncomfortable.
DS Sawyer turns to Lou and lifts her hands. ‘I understand your concerns, I really do, but we can’t help, I’m afraid. A potential crime in the future definitely isn’t within our remit.’
‘Could you not even give him a warning?’ Lou asks. ‘Tell him you’ve got your eye on him?’
‘The law doesn’t work that way; not anymore anyway. There are options – court injunctions for example – but Sean was the victim of this crime, so I doubt any judge is going to curtail his freedom just because you ask them to. Sorry,’ she adds as an afterthought. ‘And now, we need to go.’
As Lou shows them out, Jess feels the oxygen levels in the room rise a fraction. But she can’t fully relax until Gail has gone too. The social worker twists in her chair to face her. ‘What do you think, Jess?’ she asks. ‘Are you worried how Sean Russo might react?’
Jess pulls at her bottom lip. Lou slips back in. She must have heard Gail’s question because she stares expectantly at Jess.
‘This whole thing happened ages ago,’ Jess starts, trying to sound offhand. ‘Maybe he won’t care about it anymore.’ She’s not sure she believes it, especially with the stories going round about Sean. How he’s hanging out with a gang now. Selling drugs for them. But she wants to stop Lou worrying.
‘Do you think so?’ Lou says, breaking into a relieved smile. But it folds into a frown when there’s a loud thud in the hallway – the front door flying into the adjacent wall – and thumping footsteps towards the kitchen.
‘What the fuck have you done?!’ Amber screeches from the doorway. Her hair is sweaty and tangled; her shirt collar ripped.
‘Oh my God, Amber! What happened to you?’ Lou reaches out, but Amber shrugs her away, irritated by the interruption.
‘Is it true?’ she demands, narrowing her eyes at Jess. ‘Have you pulled your statement?’
‘I can’t go to court,’ Jess whispers. ‘It’s too much. You told me to sort myself out, remember?’
‘I meant your eating!’ Amber shouts. ‘Not this! Not signing your own fucking death warrant!’
‘Oh shit,’ Lou moans in the background.
‘But Sean might not care anymore,’ Jess pleads, clinging to her own version of reality.
‘Oh my God, you’re fucking delusional!’ Amber drops down into the chair next to Jess; grabs both her wrists and pulls her round, forcing her to make eye contact. ‘Why do you think I look like this? And how much worse do you think you’d look if it was you he caught instead of me?’
‘Did he hurt you?’ Jess whispers, her voice trembling.
‘He was my friend, Jess!’ Amber screeches, squeezing tighter, digging her nails into Jess’s soft flesh. ‘And now he hates me. How could you do that to me?’
‘What if I explain?’ Jess whines. ‘Tell him that I’m sorry?’
‘Are you really that stupid?!’
Jess’s bottom lip quivers. She grabs it with her top teeth but that makes her eyes water.
‘That’s enough, Amber,’ Lou says, her assertive voice back. ‘Let your sister go.’ Then she turns to Gail. ‘But we can’t ignore it; Jess could be in real danger here.’
‘What do you think he’ll do to me?’ Jess whispers. Her chest is constricting again. Her eyes swimming. Jesus, when is this all going to be over?
‘I don’t know, Jess,’ Amber hisses. ‘But you brought this on yourself.’
‘I don’t like this at all,’ Gail says decisively.
‘Me neither,’ Lou agrees. ‘But what options do we have? The detective already said the police can’t help.’
‘Leave it with me,’ Gail says grimly. ‘I need to discuss this with the team.’
TEN MONTHS BEFORE
Saturday 22nd July 2023
Jess
Jess looks around the unfamiliar living room and feels an intense urge to reach for her sister’s hand. But she’s too old for that. And also, Amber is still barely speaking to her.
‘Right, we don’t stand on ceremony here,’ Bill says with the ease of someone who’s fostered lots of kids before. ‘There are a few rules of course – shoes off at the door, help with the washing-up after dinner, that kind of thing – but mainly we just ask for honesty and some mutual respect. Does that sound okay?’
The words wash over Jess, but she nods, and it seems enough.
‘Thank you, Bill. We really appreciate it,’ Amber says. She’s been slagging off their new Jesus-loving, geriatric foster carers since they were first introduced to Molly and Bill a few weeks ago, but now she and Jess are officially moving in, she’s got a job to do – getting their foster carers onside enough to cut her the slack she needs.
‘That’s nice, Amber,’ Molly says, but in a tone that suggests Amber needs to work a bit harder than that.
‘Now, do you fancy seeing your bedrooms?’ Bill asks. ‘You might have to toss a coin for them though. One is a decent size. It’s got bunk beds, a desk and plenty of storage. But the other is a bit more of a box room if I’m honest. Come on.’
They traipse up the stairs in a line – Bill at the front, Jess pulling up the rear as usual. Bill was right about the second bedroom being small, but maybe Jess should take it anyway. A peace offering. Amber was so mad when social services said that it wasn’t safe for them to stay with Lou and Justin – just three days after Jess withdrew her statement about that teacher hitting Sean – and she couldn’t take it out on Gail because it wasn’t her who delivered the news. It was a new woman with an Irish accent – Colleen – who explained that Gail had moved to a new job.
Colleen said that their current situation had been deemed unsafe, and Amber and Jess would be moving to a new foster family as soon as they could organise it – probably at the end of the school year. Somewhere far away from Sean Russo. Amber had been furious, and had stormed out of the house as soon as Colleen left. Jess had worried that she might never see her sister again, that Sean would find her and hurt her, but Amber had turned up eventually, drunk and stoned, but alive.
She didn’t learn her lesson though. The next day, Saturday, she disappeared again, and was gone all day that time. Lou was proper freaked by the time she got home, around seven o’clock, but luckily that was the last time Amber went AWOL. She never liked that they had to move, but she seemed to accept it after that. She even talked to Colleen about her GCSEs and asked for her preferences to be taken into account when the foster team looked for a new home for them.
She and Amber then spent their remaining weeks living in semi-confinement. Driven to and from school. Not allowed out unless it was to a specific event with a defined guest list. And then finally term finished, and it was time to go.
Saying goodbye to Lou and Justin had been hard. They all cried. Even Amber got a bit teary. But what broke Jess’s heart the most was seeing the relief that diluted Lou’s sadness.
‘What do you think, Jess?’
She snaps back to the conversation. ‘Sorry, what?’
‘We could share, couldn’t we? You take the top bunk; I take the bottom. It’ll be more fun if we’re together.’
‘Really?’
Amber beams at her. Jess doesn’t understand what’s going on. Is this part of the act? When Colleen picked them up this morning, Amber was still giving her the silent treatment. What could have happened in the last couple of hours to cause such a big shift?
‘Of course!’ Amber calls out. ‘Is that okay, Molly, Bill?’
‘I think that’s a wonderful idea,’ Molly says, breaking into a smile – already starting to fall under Amber’s spell (not so savvy after all). ‘Our own girls always shared – they’re in their late twenties now and still thick as thieves. Now, why don’t we let you settle in. Come down when you’re ready, no hurry.’
They watch the old couple trundle back down the stairs, then Amber steps inside the bunk bedroom, and Jess follows. It’s a good room. Bill and Molly’s house isn’t any bigger than Lou and Justin’s, but there’s grass in the front garden rather than paving slabs, and Jess can see three majestic birds circling the sky as she looks through the window.
‘Maybe it will be all right here,’ she ventures. ‘In the countryside.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’ Amber’s response isn’t exactly enthusiastic, but it’s so much better than the usual ‘I’d rather fucking die’ that Jess can’t hold back her curiosity any longer.
