‘It’s going to be all right,’ she whispers into the curve of my jaw. ‘It’s going to be all right.’
She wants to hang on to me, to hold me tight, keep me safe, but I step away from her. I know my mum has always had trouble letting us go. She would keep us with her twenty-four seven if she could. She would keep us under her watchful gaze so no one could ever do anything to us.
Poppy Carlisle glares and glares as I walk past her. I don’t blame her, not really. I would be exactly the same if I thought someone had hurt Conrad.
Her partner, Alain, who Logan had told me about, reaches for her. She doesn’t resist when he pulls her into his arms, but she doesn’t melt against him or give any indication that she feels anything for him.
Is that what I’m going to be like when I eventually get out of prison? Will I be scary and rock-like, not responding to any type of touch no matter who it’s from? This is why Logan started this in the first place – he wanted to help her. He wanted to find a way to get her to feel again. He’d spent the better part of a decade watching her try to connect, try to put her life back together, and he wanted a way to end her pain, find her heart.
I’m sorry it’s come to this. I’m sorry that all we have left is more pain, more reasons for Poppy Carlisle to rage against the world; to hate on the Gorringe bloodline.
DI Brosnin’s smile widens as I meekly stop in front of her, waiting for them to put on handcuffs. They don’t need to, of course; I’ve got no history of resisting before, but she needs it for present and future optics, I’m sure. She needs the neighbours to see me being led away in cuffs again; and she needs to be able to note down in the file for the CPS that I am a violent criminal – so much so, they’ve had to take extra precautions by deploying the handcuffs every time they’ve come for me.
I can feel many, many sets of eyes on me as I walk down the path to the other two waiting police officers. Those eyes stare, watch, observe and look from behind slightly parted blinds, nudged-aside net curtains and bare, unadorned windows. Anyone who didn’t see the police car before, will now; or they’ll hear about it. ‘The doctor’s daughter was arrested again. They sent two police cars and six officers [I’m sure there were officers covering the back in case I decided to abscond that way] and they led her away in handcuffs!’
Most of the people now watching will have needed Dad at some point. They often came to us if there was an accident, if their child had an extremely high temperature, if they couldn’t get an appointment at their regular GP and wanted to find out if they would be all right to wait or not. And now I have done this to my father’s reputation.
I duck my head but the male officer places the flat of his hand on my crown and pushes my head down anyway to ‘assist’ me getting into the car. Before I get in, I look up at the house and meet my mother’s eyes. She is at the end of the path, her hands curled around the gate. She’s looking at me like she knows.
She’s looking at me like she knows I deserve all of this because I did it.
Part 11
logan
Extract from statement by Logan Carlisle
I wanted to go to her party.
I thought it’d be a good time to finally meet them. I know it wasn’t ideal, but with lots of other people around, I thought they wouldn’t overreact or be too upset about it all. I know I shouldn’t have kept texting her, especially when I knew she was so volatile. But I just wanted her to give me a chance. Let me be a part of her life, properly.
She eventually suggested we meet at her flat to talk about it. I knew she was probably going to try to get me into bed and then give me the brush-off, but I had to try. I loved her so much. I just wanted to be a part of her life and not a secret any more.
When we arrived at the flat she was really angry. More angry than I’d ever seen her before. We started talking and then it turned into a fight. I know, I know I shouldn’t have said some of the things I said, how she made me feel cheap and how she’d been using me for sex all this time, but I was angry, too. I was fed up and hurt and I wanted to hurt her.
When I said that thing about sex she blew up. She flew at me, lashing out and calling me names. I reacted. I know I shouldn’t have, but I threw my hands up to protect myself and caught her slightly in the face. I feel awful about it, even now. She paused in her tracks, clutching her face and started crying. Then she stopped cold and said she had to make the tears look good for when she reported me. She said she was going to tell everyone that I hit her and not for the first time. If I came anywhere near her dad’s party, that’s what she would do.
I felt stuck. What could I do? If I dared defy her, she’d ruin me. I can’t have any kind of allegation made against me at work. I begged her to reconsider and she just laughed. Eventually, when she could see how distraught I was, she suggested we make up, that we go to bed. I said no, and she sort of smirked at me, called me pathetic and said she’d only offered that as a consolation prize. She said: ‘Did you really think fucking you was any real fun? The fun went right out the window when you stopped presenting a challenge.’
I was just devastated. I love her. When she went to leave, I touched her shoulder, asking her to reconsider. And she completely lost it.
She grabbed the award she keeps on the mantelpiece and swung out at me. I was totally not expecting it, and it connected with my temple. Here. I kind of reeled back and she came after me. She hit me with it again and again. I don’t remember much after that.
I think I hit my head on the fireplace as I went down. I think . . . most of it is gone, I’m sorry. I know she hit me again when I was on the ground. I think, think I woke up and there was a male voice. I think she was there, too. I don’t remember anything else - I don’t remember getting into a fight, as you said. But maybe that’s where the male voice came from? It did sound familiar, I think. It might have been the guy I thought she was sleeping with – Howie. Although I don’t know what he would have been doing there so maybe I’ve made that up in my head.
I do remember waking up at one point and having this need to be with her. This urge to desperately find her. I think I probably thought she was in danger. And I remember the sound of the sea, the seagulls. Pumping, pounding music. And the desperate need to find Verity.
But that’s it. That’s all I can remember clearly. There are other flashes, but I’m not sure when they’re from or if they’re partial dreams.
Signed: L Carlisle
Extract from interview with Verity Gillmare, as
transcribed by Darryl Palmer
Logan was obsessed with coming to my dad’s party.
He kept saying that it’d be the right time to tell everyone about us, but really, nothing could be further from the truth. How was Mum going to feel seeing a Carlisle at something she’d spent so much time trying to organise? And I’d already given Mum enough grief about the party. So when he started texting me non-stop asking to come to the party, I ended up saying we should meet at my flat.
By the time I got there, he was really wound up. He was walking around and ranting about me not allowing him into my life. He just wanted me to acknowledge him. But it wasn’t that simple and the more he was pushing for it, the more I realised that it was about a lot more than just telling people about us. He wanted to hurt my mum and I couldn’t let that happen.