No Turning Back, page 16
Yes, she’d go.
She headed in the direction of The Docks, sun already searing down on her, taking a route down the town’s dark alleyways until they opened up onto the vast abandoned dockyards. She’d only been here once or twice as a kid with some friends. Most of the time, the kids from her village kept clear of this area. It hadn’t changed, the cranes still looking as imposing as they had before, but somehow fragile too, like they might collapse over her at any minute. She pulled the hood of her thin cardigan up and walked across the concrete platform past abandoned buildings. A whiff of something – pot, probably – trickled its way towards her from a broken window, mingling with the low beats of some music.
She stepped out of the old dockyard into the sprawling estate: The Docks. Anna tried to steady her nerves as she walked through it. It was only a ten-minute walk from the village and yet it felt so different. She remembered the first time she visited The Docks, driven there by her dad for some community event he was involved with. As she left the comforts of her village, the scenery completely changed: pretty cottages and quaint pubs replaced by plain council houses and garish off-licences; Mercedes and Jaguars making way for wheel-less Peugeots and knackered-looking mopeds. She’d been shocked.
She felt the same now as she walked into the heart of the estate, past overgrown lawns and cars with bricks for wheels, trolleys littered here and there like art homages to an abandoned world. When she got to a line of shops, she paused, peering out at the sorry-looking green and the community centre nearby. There were about sixty people on the green sitting under the blazing sun. Some had even pulled old sofas out and were sitting on them drinking cans of lager; a group of children sat on a tatty picnic blanket, giggling in excitement. Anna recognised Ben’s dad, Kevin, handing out photocopied photos of his son and her heart went out to him. And nearby was Yvonne Fry, notepad in hand, a photographer with her taking photos.
‘Ridiculous, isn’t it?’ a voice slurred next to her. ‘It’s like a friggin’ party.’
A man was standing nearby, russet hair a mess.
Jamie’s dad.
He looked drunk, eyes out of focus as he swayed.
She went very still, heart thumping. Could he really be sending her those emails?
‘And those kids.’ He jutted his chin towards the children gathered on a picnic blanket. ‘See them? S’like it’s a fucking picnic, can you believe it? They did this when my boy died, even bought some candles. No disrespect but that annoys the fuck out of me. It’s like when Princess Di died, remember that? All those people lining the streets to watch her procession. I remember thinking then, “Jesus, look at these people, weeping and grieving for someone they don’t even know.” Same here, isn’t it? It’s ridiculous, half these people have never even met the kid. Just like half of ’em didn’t know my Elliot. They all know this family is fucking cursed though,’ he said clenching his fists. ‘First Peter, now my boy.’ He shook his head and stumbled away.
She felt a hand on her elbow and was roughly pulled back. She looked up to see Jamie glaring down at her. ‘What are you doing here?’ he hissed, pulling her behind a tree. He looked around him, eyes filled with concern. ‘Are you mad? I just saw you talking to my dad.’
‘He was upset,’ Anna said, trying to match the drunk sad man she’d just been talking to with the person sending her those calculating emails. ‘He was talking about someone called Peter.’
‘Peter’s my uncle,’ Jamie said, raking his fingers through his hair. ‘Dad’s always going on about him.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘Some accident at The Docks.’
Anna frowned. Hadn’t the boy her mother loved died at The Docks…and wasn’t he called Peter? ‘I think my mum was dating him.’
Jamie raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’
Anna nodded. ‘Your dad said our families had history, maybe that’s what he was referring to?’ They both looked towards Jamie’s father who was now mumbling to himself as he swigged from a bottle of cheap cider.
‘Why are you here, Anna?’ Jamie asked.
‘I’m joining the search for Ben Miller.’
‘Sure that’s such a good idea?’
‘I don’t know. I got another email last night.’ She told Jamie about the email. He looked at his father, his jaw flexing and unflexing. ‘Is your dad capable of hurting a boy like Ben?’ she asked him. ‘He hurt Elliot, didn’t he?’
‘No,’ Jamie said, shaking his head. ‘No way, Anna. He treated Elliot like shit, me too. And yeah, people are intimidated by him. But he’s never hurt anyone else and he’s good friends with Ben’s dad, known Ben since he was born. He wouldn’t hurt the kid.’
‘Are you sure?’ she asked, looking Jamie in the eye.
He avoided her gaze. ‘I’m not his shadow, am I? I can’t say for sure.’
He looked over her shoulder and Anna followed his gaze to see her gran walking over, her flowery skirt blowing in the summer breeze.
‘There you are!’ Florence said, smiling at Anna. Then she noticed Jamie next to her, her brow puckering.
‘This is Elliot Nunn’s brother,’ Anna said.
‘Yes, I know. Hello, Jamie,’ Florence said, giving him a tight smile. She looked at Anna. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Everything’s fine. Jamie and I were just talking.’
‘Are you joining us for the search too, Jamie?’ Florence asked him.
He shrugged. ‘Sure.’
‘See you in a moment then,’ Florence said, steering Anna away. ‘What on earth are you doing talking to him?’ she whispered to Anna as they walked towards the crowds, leaving Jamie behind.
‘He’s fine, Gran. He’s been helping me, actually.’
Florence stopped walking, staring at Anna in shock. ‘Excuse me?’
‘We’re been trying to figure out why Elliot tried to hurt me and Joni.’
‘But that’s up to the police!’
Anna sighed. ‘I know. But he’s been a real help, he even traced the emails from the Ophelia Killer to The Docks. We think they might be sent by his dad.’
Florence eyed Jamie’s father who was swaying as he jabbed his finger at Jamie. ‘I’m not sure that man could string two words together,’ she said.
‘Maybe. But he has a motive.’
‘But the emails aren’t threatening to you, are they? From the ones you’ve shown me, anyway.’
Anna sighed. ‘Not overtly.’
‘Just be careful, darling. You say Jamie’s a good man but he has a motive too, just like his father. You did kill his brother. Are you sure he’s just trying to help and there’s not an ulterior motive?’
‘Like what?’ Anna followed her gaze towards Jamie who was now shaking his head and walking away from his father. ‘I trust him.’
Florence sighed. ‘Fine. I don’t like to pry but I’d prefer it if you told me things like this, in case anything ever happened.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Like you get hurt, Anna. Jamie has been in trouble with the police. Kiara tells me people are terrified of him on the estate.’
Anna looked towards Jamie. ‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘Well, people can surprise you.’
‘Speaking of surprises,’ Anna said. ‘Was Peter, the boy Mum was in love with, related to the Nunns?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Jamie’s uncle was called Peter. He died in an accident at The Docks. It can’t be a coincidence.’
Florence quirked an eyebrow. ‘I had no idea. I only ever knew his first name.’ She looked towards the crowds. ‘Come on. Let’s try and find Ben. Hopefully, he’s in an allotment somewhere reading comic books.’
They strolled towards the crowds at the community centre, a small tired-looking building squatting in the middle of the green, the tower block Jamie and his family lived in right behind it. People stared at Anna as she passed but her gran didn’t give them a chance to say anything, greeting people, thanking them for coming, introducing Anna like she hadn’t killed one of their own. People seemed so taken aback at the fact Anna had shown her face in The Docks, they didn’t seem to know how to react. Apart from Yvonne Fry, who watched with a raised eyebrow.
In the background, Jamie talked to two men. They looked scared of him, nodding at him, almost bowing down to him. Anna thought of what Florence had said, that he was feared on the estate. She just couldn’t see it, he’d helped her so much.
Kiara, a large black woman with cropped hair and red-painted lips, clapped her hands together. ‘Right then, everyone,’ she shouted. ‘We’re here to find our boy Ben. You all have his photo, not that you need it anyway as we all know him, don’t we? Can’t miss him with that big smile of his.’ She looked at Ben’s father who smiled sadly. ‘The lovely Florence here is going to get you into groups,’ she said, gesturing towards Anna’s gran. ‘And her granddaughter Anna has been kind enough to join her, so make her feel welcome, all right?’ She shot the crowd a hard no-nonsense look, clear she wouldn’t take any harassment directed at Anna. Yvonne started frantically scribbling away in her notepad, smiling to herself.
Anna gave Kiara a grateful look but she also felt embarrassed. If people didn’t know who she was before, they would now.
‘I want each group searching a particular area,’ Kiara continued, ‘so we don’t get no duplication. Sound good?’ People nodded. ‘The police are here,’ she said, gesturing to a police car by the shops. Anna looked over to see Detective Morgan standing by the car, his hands in his pockets as he appraised the crowds. His eyes caught hers and he gave her a curt nod. She nodded back.
‘If you see any sign, bring him back here,’ Kiara continued. ‘And see anything that might be his? One person stays with it, another come get a copper. All clear?’ People nodded. They seemed alert and intent on finding Ben Miller. It made Anna realise this is what a real community was, just like her dad always used to say about The Docks. ‘Right, let’s go, see you back here in an hour for some of Florence’s delicious cake. Over to Florence.’
Anna watched her gran get people into groups. When she approached Jamie, he shook his head, stepping back and popping a cigarette in his mouth as he surveyed the crowds with narrowed eyes.
Florence led Anna to a small group of people. ‘This is my granddaughter,’ she said, turning to the group. Two of the teenage girls appraised Anna, sneering as they looked her up and down. ‘Right then, let’s go.’
They all trudged off across the green, the teenage girls giggling. One of the men in the group was taking it more seriously though, stopping every now and again to appraise rubbish on the ground. As they searched all the nooks and crannies of the estate, the sun seemed to beat down even harder on them, seagulls sweeping over them, the distant sound of a ship horn carried like a scream on the summer breeze.
Soon, the girls grew bored, trailing off, and it was just four of them left: Anna, Florence and two men. Anna talked to them as they searched the area. Both of them were unemployed, one had three children. He went to the seafront most days to scavenge for treasures washed ashore, copper piping and old tyres that could be resold for barely anything, but ‘barely was better than nothing’ as he said. He told Anna he admired her for what she’d done. The other man wasn’t so supportive, just stared at her through narrowed eyes.
When they got to the back of the estate, they stopped at a row of abandoned houses backing onto a small hill.
‘Hard work in this heat,’ Florence said, puffing as she sat down on a broken wall to take a break.
‘Why don’t you head back?’ Anna said, handing her some water. ‘I can take it from here.’
‘No,’ Florence said, shaking her head as she took a sip of water. ‘It’s just the heat. Let’s get this lot out of the way then we can head back.’
‘We’ll go look at those two,’ one of the men said, pointing to the house to the left.
‘Okay,’ Anna said. ‘We’ll check these then. We’ll make it quick, I’m sure the police have searched here anyway.’ Anna put her arm through her gran’s.
‘They only searched half-heartedly,’ Florence said as the two men walked off. ‘I’m really not sure the police are taking Ben’s disappearance seriously enough.’
‘I am.’
Florence patted Anna’s arm. ‘You’re a good girl for doing this.’
‘I liked Ben.’
‘Me too. Come on.’
They walked down the path of the first house. The windows were boarded over, the grass overgrown.
‘Why aren’t these places occupied?’ Anna asked.
‘Nuclear waste,’ Florence said. ‘Council said too much of it was buried in this part, could pose a risk.’
‘I thought that was an urban myth?’
‘Oh, all the rumours about your estate are, no chance I’d have let my girls move in there if that was true. But this bit.’ She sighed. ‘It’s true, I’m afraid.’
Anna raised an eyebrow. So Jamie had been right.
‘Should we even be here?’ Anna asked.
‘We’re not planning to plant some flowers, are we? It’s only the soil that’s slightly toxic. But let’s do this quickly, this heat is ridiculous.’
Anna looked at her gran in concern. She was so robust, the gardening making her fit. But that didn’t stop Anna being aware of not over-exerting her, she was seventy now after all. ‘You should have stayed back at the community centre and made sure no one nicked your cakes.’
Florence gave her a disapproving glance. ‘They’re not all thieves and layabouts in The Docks, Anna. Some are, granted. But there’s a lot who are doing their best to get by.’
‘Like Jamie Nunn,’ Anna said, moving an old dustbin aside to reveal a squirming home for worms and lice.
‘Really?’ Florence said, raising an eyebrow.
‘He’s a mechanic.’
‘A mechanic who likes to rough people up for his gangster boss, from what I’ve heard.’
Anna looked at her in surprise.
‘You seem to like him though,’ Florence said, peering at Anna sideways as she fiddled with the gate at the side of the house.
‘He’s all right. He could have hated me, but he wants to help.’
‘Are you sure he wants to help?’
Anna tried the gate too and it sprung open. ‘We’ve already discussed this, Gran. I know he’s not doing this for me, it’s more about figuring out what happened to make his brother do what he did.’
Florence sighed. ‘Well, you know my views.’
They walked down a narrow alleyway. ‘Smells musty,’ Anna said, wrinkling her nose.
‘All that nuclear waste,’ Florence said, winking.
They stepped out into a small overgrown garden, the foot of the hill fenced off with spiky metal.
‘Can’t see Ben Miller coming here,’ Florence said, looking around her.
‘I don’t know, kids like to get away from it sometimes. A place like this might make a good hideaway for a kid who misses his mum.’
‘Like the lighthouse for you when you were a kid missing your dad?’ Florence asked.
Anna smiled sadly.
‘My poor darling, all you’ve been through, then and the past few weeks. It’s not fair.’
‘I’m a tough cookie,’ Anna said, echoing Nathan’s words to her.
‘But cookies can crumble.’
Anna smiled. ‘Exactly what I—’ She paused. She could see something through the overgrown grass, a hint of red.
‘What’s wrong?’ Florence asked, following her gaze.
‘Isn’t the uniform Ben wears at the newsagents red?’ Anna asked.
Her gran nodded.
‘There’s something red over there,’ Anna said. She trod through the long grass, the musty smell she’d first detected when walking into the garden getting stronger and stronger.
A red shirt came into view, crumpled and lying on the ground.
Anna paused, head swimming slightly.
Florence put her hand to her mouth.
‘It could be anyone’s,’ Anna said quickly. ‘We should let the police know though.’
‘There’s a pond there,’ Florence said in a voice filled with doom, peering towards a sludgy-looking pond to the right of the garden.
They both walked towards it, treading down the long grass, breath coming out all ragged, the musty smell now rotting, making Anna retch, making her heartbeat pound so hard and fast in her ears she could barely hear her gran talking behind her.
And then Ben Miller came into view, lying open-eyed in the middle of the pond, his head surrounded by wilting flowers.
Anna heard a scream then Florence collapsed to the ground.
Chapter Twelve
Police sirens swirled around Anna as she sat in an ambulance with her gran outside the house they’d found Ben’s body behind. Anna closed her eyes, hoping it would block out the images of Ben Miller, pale and naked, lying in the pond, five cruel circles cut from his skin, lifeless blue eyes staring up into the sky.
‘Your gran will be fine,’ the paramedic said. ‘Just dehydrated.’
‘Good,’ Anna said, squeezing Florence’s hand as people with white forensic suits walked into the garden. Florence was lying on a stretcher in the ambulance, her face very pale, blue eyes sad.
Detective Morgan approached from the garden, face ashen. He noticed Anna and walked up to her. ‘So Mrs Graves, you found the body?’ he asked.
‘I found Ben, yes,’ Anna said, feeling like every word she said now had to be carefully considered.
‘Funny that.’
‘I don’t think it’s funny,’ Anna said.
‘Weird then. Weird you would be the one to find him.’
‘What are you saying, Detective?’ Florence asked, struggling to sit up. ‘My granddaughter was good enough to join the search. It could have been any one of these people,’ she said, gesturing to the gathering crowds. Anna caught sight of Jamie amongst them, his eyes unreadable. Yvonne Fry was also watching, notepad in hand, her photographer click click clicking away.
‘Let’s get rid of this lot,’ Detective Morgan said to one of his officers. He turned back to Anna and her gran. ‘I’d like to ask you both some questions,’ he said, taking his notepad out.
