‘He offered, but we declined. Thank you. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, Joyce, but I just need to ask you about Rodney.’
Joyce’s body shuddered as she shook her head.
‘He had it hard, with his mother walking out on him. My brother never married his mum. She was from Ghana and was a really rough woman. I always thought she got herself pregnant just to move in with Anthony, but nobody could ever tell him what to do. I think Rodney got a lot of racial abuse at school. He also got it from Anthony as he was such a trouble-maker.’
Sara interrupted, asking if she could use the bathroom.
‘It’s the big wide door in the hallway, dear. Had it widened so I could get my wheelchair through, but I can’t use that anymore.’
Sara left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
‘What was his relationship with Karen like?’
‘Whose?’
‘Your brother.’
‘Oh, he worshipped her. She was a looker, and a lovely girl as well. She was only sixteen and they got married when she had her first baby girl, then it started to get too much for her and she started using. I looked after the baby here, but then she got herself back together. I think she had that depression you get after having a baby. Then she goes and has another one, and it was much worse the next time, but I couldn’t have them both here as my health wasn’t good. I only had them over when they got a bit bigger.’
Joyce shifted her bulk and winced with the pain.
‘I don’t use the toilet in there no more. My carers have a commode for me. It’s a sad life, isn’t it? They are such good women, having to wash me privates. I get very painful sores in the creases, and bedsores as well. They have very good ointments for it all. Then there’s a girl who comes in to wash and dry my hair, and gives me a manicure, and...’
Jack interrupted. ‘How did Rodney react to the girls?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, he was that much older.’
‘He was very good with them, especially when Karen was having her bad times, but she never liked having him at home. I think it was very difficult, him not being her own child. And Anthony was handy with his fists when things blew up. Rodney was getting into trouble and my brother didn’t like having the coppers turning up. Could you give me some water? There’s a plastic beaker on the table, and I need a straw.’
Jack passed her the green plastic mug, along with a thick straw to insert in the lid.
‘Thank you, dear.’ Joyce took several sips before holding it up for him to take it back. He replaced it on the table just as Sara returned and came to stand beside him again.
‘Was your brother abusive to Rodney?’
‘I don’t want to speak bad of him. He was doing his best, working a few jobs at once and with Karen having trouble with drugs. I know he did knock Rodney around. There had been a big row and I think Karen told Rodney he had to leave, then my brother got involved and it was him that put his foot down and told him he had to go and not come back.’
‘Would you have taken him in?’ Jack asked.
‘No, he couldn’t come here; Harold wouldn’t allow it.’
‘The night of the fire, Rodney was babysitting the girls, wasn’t he?’
Joyce nodded. For the first time she appeared to be uneasy, fiddling with her painted fingernails.
‘Your brother accused Rodney of having something to do with it.’
‘Bad things were said. It was all down to grief; nothing was ever proved and my brother, like poor Karen, never really recovered. He got into bad stuff, and now he’s banged up again, but what could I do?’
‘Has Rodney tried to contact you?’
‘No, he’s a loner. I read he got arrested again. What happened the night of the fire ruined everyone’s lives.’ She paused. ‘I’m feeling very tired now, and I need to have my dinner. I hope what I’ve said is helpful, but can you go now please?’
Jack had no legitimate reason to continue questioning her, and just then the doorbell rang.
‘That’ll be my dinner,’ she said. ‘It was nice meeting you.’
Jack and Sara made their way out as Harold was taking pizza boxes and other takeaway cartons from the delivery boy. He almost dropped one box as he fished in his pocket to pay for it all. Jack helped him with the pizza boxes and carried them back into the kitchen, with Sara following.
Harold hurried in to take out the warm plates from the oven.
‘I bet she never said a bad word about that brother of hers, but he’s a no-good thug. She thinks the sun shines out of his mean arse. She wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say about him — that poor girl Karen was sometimes black and blue, just like Rodney. And that poor lad didn’t stand a chance, trying to protect those girls. I told her that something bad was happening in their house. I would have called Social Services on him because those two little ones weren’t right. They had bruises on them, and sometimes they were filthy. But Joyce would get into a frenzy if I interfered.’
A bell rang and he pursed his lips. ‘I’ve said too much. It’s all over now anyway. But if it had carried on, I would have had to do something.’
Jack watched as Harold heaped a hamburger and chips onto one plate, then put garlic bread and a huge pizza onto a second plate. He took some tomato ketchup from the fridge and a large bottle of Coke, placing them all onto a tray with cutlery and a paper napkin.
Jack moved closer to him and spoke quietly. ‘Harold, did you think the children were being sexually abused?’
Harold could not look him in the face, turning away as he fussed with salt and pepper shakers.
‘I’ve spoken out of turn. You can show yourselves out. I need to give Joyce her dinner as it’s past her usual time, and she won’t like it if it gets cold.’
Sara held the door open as Harold carried the tray through, almost bow-legged from the weight of the food. She then opened the bedroom door for him.
As they closed the front door behind them, they heard Harold’s voice.
‘I have everything you ordered, Joyce dearest.’
Jack started the car as Sara pulled on her safety belt.
‘Was all that food really for her?’ she asked.
Jack shrugged. ‘There was only one knife and fork. I think Harold eats the healthy food, poor sod. What a life, with that beached whale of a wife.’
‘When I passed his room earlier, he was sitting in what I presume was his bedroom,’ Sara said. ‘It had a single bed and a desk with a computer and a laptop. He was eating a salad. I said I was on my way to the bathroom and he told me he was working on all the documentation to get the carers in for his wife, complaining that it was a full-time job sorting out the benefits she was entitled to. He had to give up work due to a back injury, apparently.’
‘No doubt from shifting his wife around,’ Jack said.
‘Why do you think she protects her brother?’ Sara asked.
‘Shame, guilt, who knows. But somebody certainly takes care of her very well. The house is spick and span, gets her nails and hair done every week, and all those carers... She didn’t provide much insight into Rodney, though. Harold gave us more just as we were leaving.’
Jack dropped Sara off at a Tube station as he was eager to get home. He offered to drive her, but she declined. He was relieved as he sometimes found her rather irritating, but more importantly, after the day’s interviews, he had a lot to think about.