‘I’d just like a chat,’ she said. ‘Now you’ve had a chance to think about things.’
‘I don’t know anything about what happened that night. I was asleep.’
‘I wanted to talk to you about that, pet. Are you sure you didn’t hear anything? A knock on the door, voices, a scuffle. You might have heard, thought it was Luke and his mates larking about. Nothing to feel guilty about if you did.’
‘I don’t feel guilty.’
‘Because I find it hard to believe you slept through all that.’
‘I sleep like a stone,’ Laura said. ‘Ask Mam.’
She glared at Vera, who felt out of her depth. She would have pushed another witness, but this was a young girl who’d just lost her brother. ‘Still,’ Vera said. ‘You might be able to help. I need to talk about Luke’s mates, what he got up to, who he mixed with. You’ll have a better idea about that than your mam.’
‘No, I won’t.’ Aggressive. As if Vera was crazy even to consider it.
‘He didn’t talk to you, then?’
‘No.’ That tone again. The one teenagers did when they really wanted to wind you up. Sneering. The voice that made you want to slap them. ‘I didn’t want him to.’
‘You didn’t get on?’
Laura pulled herself up onto her elbow. ‘I’ve had all the lectures, OK? From Mam and Nan and the teachers at school. I know it wasn’t his fault, the learning disability. I know I’m a bitch. But I couldn’t stand it. Everyone pointing at me, knowing I was his sister. Sniggering behind my back when he did something stupid. As if I could help it. We didn’t not get on. I just wanted him out of my life.’
She realized the implication of what she’d said as soon as the words came out, but wasn’t going to show she was sorry. She sank onto the bed and turned her back on Vera. Vera knew something of what she was going through. When she was a kid, people had sniggered about her too. She’d lived on her own with a mad father. No mother. No one to iron the school uniform or bake cakes for sports day. No one to take her to the hairdresser’s or explain about periods. Just Hector, who spent his spare time prowling the hills looking for raptors’ nests, who seemed to care more for his egg-collecting friends than his ugly daughter. But it wouldn’t help if she talked about that to Laura. Young people saw the middle-aged as a different species. How could Vera’s experience mean anything to the miserable girl lying on the bed?
She reached out and touched Laura’s shoulder. ‘Eh, pet, it’s not your fault. And you might be able to help without realizing.’
The girl turned onto her back, stared at the ceiling.
‘I didn’t know any of his friends.’
‘What about Thomas Sharp?’
‘He’s dead.’
Vera kept her voice even. The team back at Kimmerston would be astonished, she thought, that she could be this patient. ‘But you must have met him when he came to the house.’
‘Sometimes.’
‘What did you make of him?’
There was a silence. Vera wondered if she’d pushed too hard.
‘He was OK,’ the girl said at last. ‘Better than the others Luke had knocked around with. A laugh.’
She liked him, Vera thought. Fancied him, even. Had anything gone on between them? Furtive groping behind her mother’s back? What had Luke made of that?
‘It must have been a shock when he died.’
‘It was dreadful.’
‘Did you go to his funeral?’
She shook her head. ‘Mam wouldn’t let me take the day off school. She says I’m the only one with brains in the family and I have to use them.’ She paused. ‘I went with them to the river, though, when they took the flowers.’
‘Did Luke ever tell you what happened when Thomas drowned?’
‘He said he should have saved him.’ The answer came back loud and angry.
‘Do you think he could have saved him?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe. If he hadn’t been such a daft sod. If he’d made more effort.’ She started to cry, not for her brother, but for his friend.
‘Do you know anyone called Lily Marsh?’
‘I don’t know any old ladies.’
‘Why do you think she’s an old lady?’
‘It’s an old lady’s name, isn’t it? Lily.’
It’s the name of a flower, Vera thought suddenly and wondered why she hadn’t realized before. Does that mean anything? Did Luke have any middle names? Something floral? Were there any male names connected to flowers?
Laura was getting restive, curious despite herself. ‘Who is she anyway?’
‘Not an old person,’ Vera said. ‘A student teacher. Did she ever work in your school?’
‘Nah.’ Laura picked up the magazine and pretended to read it.
Vera saw she’d get nothing more out of her today. ‘I need to talk to your mam now,’ she said. ‘If you think of anything give me a ring. I’ll leave my card here on the window sill.’
Julie was sitting in her front room, staring at the television screen. Saturday teatime. Daft celebrities getting families to do daft stunts. Despite the heat she was wearing jogging pants and a sweater. When she saw Vera she jumped up and switched off the television, embarrassed perhaps to be caught doing something so normal. The room was the same size as Sal’s next door, but more cluttered. There’d be reminders of Luke everywhere – his clothes would still be in the plastic laundry basket next to the ironing board, his favourite video in the pile on the floor.
‘Sorry about the mess,’ Julie said. ‘You know . . .’
Vera nodded, happy to accept the excuse, but she knew it would always be messy. Probably messier than it was now, because Mrs Richardson was here, keeping on top of things. Julie wouldn’t be one for a tidy house. Not like Kath on the prim estate in Wallsend.
Mrs Richardson hovered just inside the door. ‘Tea, Inspector?’
‘Champion.’ If I have more tea, I’ll drown, Vera thought, but she didn’t want the mother listening in to this. She sat on an armchair covered by a puce chenille throw, beckoned for Julie to sit down again too.
‘It’s about Gary,’ she said. ‘Gary Wright.’
Julie moved her head very slowly until she was looking at Vera. ‘What about him?’
‘You do know him?’
‘Not really.’
‘Tell me.’
‘I was with him the night Luke was killed. I mean, not with him, not like that. We never left the club. But dancing together, having a laugh.’ She snapped her mouth shut as if the thought of laughter was obscene.
‘That wasn’t the first time you met him?’
‘No, a few weeks ago I was in the Harbour Bell with my mam and da. Sunday afternoon. Just before they let Luke out of hospital. Laura was spending the day with a friend. Da likes his music. If you let him, he’ll bore you for hours about the old days. The Animals. The clubs in town where he used to go in the sixties. The Bell has live music on Sunday afternoons and there was a band he wanted to hear. I’d had my dinner at theirs and went just for the ride. I had a good time. Gary was doing the sound.’ Julie’s voice tailed off. She looked straight at Vera. ‘You know, that could have been months ago. Years. It feels as if everything has changed. It’s me I’m talking about but it’s like I’m describing a different person.’
‘I know,’ Vera said.