‘And how not fair on Beckie is it going to be if the Johnsons snatch her?’
‘But is that their intention?’
‘Of course it is!’
They lapsed into silence. Neil sat down again on the loo.
‘This doesn’t make any sense,’ he said slowly, as if offering some profound insight.
‘Well, that’s life,’ she said impatiently. ‘As you keep telling me. Life isn’t supposed to make sense. It doesn’t have any meaning. We’re all just trying to survive as best we can.’
‘No,’ he said, with a faint smile. ‘I don’t mean life generally. I mean the Johnsons. If they’re such desperados, if they’re so determined to get Beckie back, why didn’t they take her? There was just you there, at first, before Caroline arrived on the scene – and even then, two women against three Glasgow toughs? If they’d wanted to take her, they could have done.’
‘The police would have acted, though, if they had. They’d have got Beckie back.’
‘Only if they knew where to find her. Think about it. If the situations were reversed – if the Johnsons had Beckie and you had an opportunity to snatch her – you’d do it, wouldn’t you, you’d take her and disappear? We’ve shown it can be done.’
‘Maybe they don’t want to disappear. And even if they did… I can’t imagine they’d be too good at blending into the woodwork. Assuming new identities – it takes a bit of doing.’
‘They’ll have all kinds of dodgy contacts. Disappearing would be far easier for them than it was for us. No. I’m thinking… Maybe they don’t actually want her back. Maybe they just want to cause trouble. Maybe they just want to…’ He shrugged. ‘Punish us.’
‘Punish us? For what?’
‘For giving her what they couldn’t?’
‘But that’s… mad.’
‘I don’t think they’re the most mentally stable people in the world.’
Suddenly she was just so tired. It was vitally important that they thought this through, that they made the right decisions, decisions that would determine the rest of Beckie’s life, but she felt as if they were both floundering, adrift, the two of them and Beckie in this hotel room, while all around them the sharks circled in a vast, indifferent ocean.
No one was going to come to their rescue.
It was down to them.
‘Whatever their intentions, running away again isn’t the answer,’ said Neil.
Flora opened her mouth to argue, and then closed it.
The idea of yet another identity standing between her and Rachel – was it a dangerously appealing idea she was too eager to embrace? Was she thinking more of herself than of Beckie?
It had been so hard for Beckie to leave her old life behind, to sever all ties with it. And she’d been so scared when they’d told her the reason why.
But not as scared as she was now.
‘So what is the answer, then?’
Neil sighed. ‘We need to know what exactly it is we’re up against. Didn’t Deirdre say the Johnsons didn’t actually pose a danger, to Beckie or to us, in her opinion? What happened today supports that. They didn’t actually physically hurt you, did they? That supports what Deirdre’s said all along. But we didn’t listen to Deirdre. We listened to Saskia.’
‘You weren’t there. It felt like a pretty dangerous situation to me.’
‘Yes, I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean –’
‘And Deirdre never even met the Johnsons. Saskia knows much more about them than she does.’ She shook her head. ‘But you’re right. We have to know what the Johnsons are likely to do before we make any decisions.’
‘Yes. Yes.’ He sounded bone-tired too.
‘We need to talk to Saskia.’
13
I’m raging so I am.
I’ve got the Three Stooges in the front room, Travis and Ryan on the settee and Jed on the La-Z-Boy, but I cannae sit, I’m moving to the windae and across to the door and back to the windae. I cannae look at them.
I’m fucking raging.
‘What did you say to her?’
‘I didnae say shit!’ goes Jed.
‘Aye?’ goes Ryan. ‘How was she greeting her face off then, Da? How was she pishing herself?’
‘Aye she was feart, any wee lassie would have been feart. But I didnae say nothing to her.’
Jed’s back chain-smoking and the air’s minging with it.
‘You’re no smoking round Bekki,’ I goes. ‘Put that fucking fag out.’
‘Bekki’s no here.’
I’m in his face. ‘Put. That fucking. Fag. Out.’ And I’m snatching it from his gob and stubbing it out on the fucking La-Z-Boy, and he’s jumping up and in my face:
‘Get off my case Lorraine!’
‘Oh, I’m no on your case! When I’m on your case, you’ll know about it!’ I push him back down on the La-Z-Boy.
What did I ever see in the fucking prick?
But I’m stuck with the bass. He’d no last five minutes out there on his own, so he wouldnae, the fucking loser.
He’s the reason Shannon-Rose is the way she is – fucking mentalist DNA.
I sit down in my chair and go to Travis, ‘Get me a rum and Coke, son.’
While he’s up at the sideboard, I eyeball Jed. ‘You’re no going near Bekki again. You’re outta this.’
‘Am I fuck.’
‘Aye, you are fuck. You want Bekki so feart that when we get her she’s gonnae go running off to the fucking polis first chance she gets? We cannae keep her locked up the rest of her life!’
‘Aye Da,’ goes Ryan. ‘Keep your neb out, aye?’
Jed goes in a huff, sitting like a big bairn in the La-Z-Boy with his arms folded, eyeballing the carpet.
Travis hands me my rum and Coke and goes to look out the windae. ‘Polis.’
Through the nets I can see them pulling up in the street. ‘Right,’ I goes. ‘Yous were at the Botanic Gardens and then you –’ I point at Jed ‘– saw Bekki. Aye she’s a lot older but you’d know her anywhere. It wasnae an intentional breach of the court order. Aye?’
Jed gives me evils.
‘You never touched they bitches. You never touched Bekki.’
‘We didnae,’ goes Travis.
‘But you’ve got to keep on about it, aye? We dinnae want no trouble, we’re just that upset. Seeing Bekki was hard for yous. But we’re no gonnae do nothing. We’re no gonnae snatch her. She’s best off where she is, aye? We’re no gonnae make contact again.’
The doorbell rings.
Ryan gets up, a wee smile on his face. The local polis are all shit-scared of Ryan. He goes out to the hall and I hear the door opening and Ryan going:
‘Gentlemen! What can we do for yous?’
Travis sits back down on the settee. ‘What if they flit again, Maw?’
I lean forward. ‘They’re no flittin’. They’re no going nowhere.’ I lean back. ‘Now shut it.’
Flora and Neil were shown into a room dominated by a large table. The surface was some kind of cheap veneer, scuffed and scratched and lifting in places. There was a tray in the centre with mugs, a cream jug and a bowl of coffee-stained sugar. A plate of biscuits.
The tall man asked: ‘Tea or coffee?’
Neil shook his head. Flora asked if she could have a glass of water.
The man went to a cooler in the corner of the room.
The others sat down at the table, and the woman who’d introduced herself as Yvonne Richards smiled and said, ‘I’m so sorry this has happened.’