‘What have you found out?’
‘She details your sexual antics with various girlfriends or whores, I’m not sure who they are, but she is very derogatory in her descriptions, but more than that-’
He interrupted her, leaning forward. ‘What? I don’t believe this.’
‘You were obviously having sex with women when Amy was in the flat.’
‘Well, maybe, but Amy would have been in her bedroom, so I can’t see how she would know what I was doing, and it was not as if it was a regular occurrence when she was here – just what are you suggesting?’
‘I am not suggesting anything; I am merely telling you what she has written and in such explicit detail it reads like she was in the same room.’
‘Are you joking? What the fuck do you take me for?’
‘What I take you for is immaterial, what I am telling you is that from her journal it reads as if she were witness to or even worse partaking in your grubby little orgies.’
He stood up, enraged. ‘That is bloody disgusting – orgies? For chrissakes, having a few sexual encounters is not anything I am ashamed of, but if you are implying that I would have allowed Amy to be involved then that is sick, and a total lie; I never would have been so crass as to allow that.’
Lena hated to even admit it, but she was enjoying seeing him embarrassed and desperately trying to extricate himself from her accusations.
‘But did you have sex while Amy was here at the flat?’
‘Yes, maybe I did a couple of times, but it was weekends, for God’s sake, and it’s not as if she’s a little kid, and I don’t think she even met any one of them for more than a coffee.’
‘But you admit to having women here and having sex with them while you were supposed to be looking after Amy.’
‘I just said that I did,’ he snapped angrily.
‘Well according to her journal she must have been watching you. I am not about to go into the disgusting details of your preferences or these tarts you bring here, but your daughter describes very explicitly their bodies, and yours, plus what sexual positions you used and your use of sex toys.’
Marcus leaned back in the chair and glared at her. ‘You are enjoying this, you’re fucking gloating about it, but I am telling you that at no time was Amy ever present, and I resent you implying they were tarts; they were all…’ He sighed, realizing that whatever he said made it sound worse, and he truthfully was certain that it could only have happened a few times when Amy was staying.
‘Did you abuse her?’ Lena said quietly.
‘What?’
‘I asked if you abused Amy sexually because she certainly makes it sound as if she was privy not only to your prowess screwing up the arse but-’
The slap was so hard it knocked her sideways. He stood over her, clenching his fists, afraid he would slap her again. He then backed away from her, ashamed. ‘I’m sorry, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, and Jesus Christ you know I have never laid a hand on you, but I swear on my life I never even touched my daughter. It sickens me just thinking that you even asked me.’
She shook her head and rubbed her cheek as he crossed to a drinks cabinet and poured himself a brandy.
‘If the police read her journal, Marcus, they will get the same impression.’
When he turned he was shaking. ‘I want to read it. Let me see it.’
Lena shrugged and stood up. ‘I haven’t got it with me and while I’m here I want to see her bedroom.’
He downed the brandy in one gulp and gasped. ‘That detective who came here said not to touch anything in Amy’s room as he wants someone to check through everything.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know – probably forensics or something like that.’
‘Well, just let me have a look, then I am going home.’
Although Lena had been to the flat before to pick up or drop Amy off, she had always refused and in fact never actually wanted to come inside, and had only entered as far as the hallway with Amy’s suitcase. It had also been upsetting and traumatic as it was very early in their separation and she had not really wanted Amy to spend any time with Marcus, let alone an entire weekend. However, she had been persuaded it was good for Amy to be on amicable terms with both of them so she had relented.
Marcus stood waiting for her at the sitting-room door, and then gestured towards the small corridor leading off. Amy’s bedroom was next door to his, with windows facing out onto Green Street. His bedroom door was ajar, and passing it Lena could see a king-size unmade bed with a bright orange duvet half across it and half dragging over the floor. It had the same fitted carpet as all the rest of the flat, and when Marcus opened the door to Amy’s bedroom she could see it was similarly in need of hoovering. She stepped into the room and gasped, and turning to Marcus asked if it was in the same state as when Amy was last there.
‘Yeah, I mean I looked around for anything that might give me a clue as to where she could have taken off – friends, contacts – but it was in this state, it always is, she’s very untidy.’
‘Untidy,’ Lena said, shocked. The room to her mind was a tip of dirty clothes, unmade scruffy bed and stained pillowslips; everything appeared to have been thrown around.
‘They want to get some forensic guys in to test stuff, her clothes,’ Marcus said and pointed to a pair of panties left by the bedside. ‘I think they want to check if there’s any DNA – you know, to see if she is sexually active. Considering what you’ve just accused me of, I am not going to even let you go further into the room as I don’t want that disgusting bullshit aimed at me.’
‘Do you think she is?’ Lena asked, still looking around the room.
‘No, but if she is she never mentioned any boyfriend to me. I know she has a thing about a movie actor and some boy band, but it’s just teenage stuff – those posters have been up for about a year.’ He gestured to the posters Blu-Tacked to the wall facing Amy’s bed.
‘What are those drawings?’ she said, pointing to ones pinned beside her bed.
‘Stuff she does in art class, I dunno – I know she likes her art teacher a lot, a Miss Polka who I met once when I collected Amy from school.’
‘It smells in here,’ Lena said, wrinkling her nose.
‘Well it’s been shut up, and she wasn’t the cleanest-’ He froze and then closed his eyes. He had just spoken of Amy in the past tense and it hit him like a punch. He turned away, heading back down the corridor.
‘Washing machine is not all that good and she hates to iron anything and we just take the sheets to the laundry once a month.’
Lena remained in the doorway of her daughter’s bedroom, biting back a sarcastic echo of ‘once a month’ as they clearly hadn’t been changed in a long time. The smell that permeated Amy’s room was of stale sweat and an over-sweet cheap perfume. She was finding it difficult to move away from the room, it was so hard for her to see Amy staying in it, using it, sleeping in it, as if she was looking at another teenager’s bedroom; it didn’t bare any resemblance to Amy’s beautiful clean stylish room at home.
‘I am just going to look into her wardrobe,’ she said, but Marcus had disappeared into the sitting room. She stepped over the items on the floor, and eased her way to the open wardrobe doors. She was careful, gently easing hangers apart and looking at the hanging garments, none of which she recognized, and it was the same for the boots and shoes. These were not high-quality designer labels, but cheap garish Top Shop, Zara and Primark items, many with stained armpits. She stepped back from the pungent smell of the clothes and turned towards the door, stopping to look at the posters before she walked out.
Marcus was sitting with another glass of brandy, and as she came to collect her coat he gave her a sad boyish smile. She had always loved it when he smiled at her in that way – he had such a handsome face and such expressive eyes.