Pact of silence, p.12
Pact of Silence, page 12
Sheila was dabbing her eyes with a cotton hankie, and tears rushed into Emma’s eyes too. This lady was almost a century old, and they were making her think about something totally nauseating. And what about Marie and Euan – Marie had been pretty jumpy a couple of times, hadn’t she? And that secret they’d spoken of… But surely…? She would need to talk frankly to Marie about this, but this wasn’t the day, with Euan’s operation this afternoon.
Emma cleared her throat. ‘I don’t get it. What reason would any parent have to cover up child sexual abuse?’
Kate nodded. ‘Bang on. That’s what we need to find out.’
‘My darlings, be careful. It’s easy to make a bad situation worse.’ Sheila twisted round and pointed to a sideboard on the back wall. ‘Fetch the album of your year with us, Kate. We might find something helpful in one of the snaps.’
Kate complied, and Emma perched on the arm of the sofa to see the photos. Kate had been a pretty child with long dark hair and a mischievous expression, and they leafed through a year of her life as an eight- and nine-year-old. Only a handful of photos showed any older children, notably the ones of the nativity play, but none included Luke or Alan. Kate replaced the album and came back to give her grandmother a cuddle.
‘Let’s leave the past where it is, Granny, and get a wheelchair for you. A walk in the park and a lovely pub lunch in town is what we need.’
Emma kept up her end of the conversation as they strolled past rose beds and a rock garden then lunched in the Bell and Whistle, where Sheila was greeted fondly. They left the old lady back at the home at three o’clock without another word having been said about the men and Ryan James.
Kate reversed out of their parking space, her mouth drooping. ‘What now?’
‘We talk to Luke and Alan again. Carefully, like Sheila said. Then we compare notes, and then – what more can we do?’
Go to the police was the logical answer, but that was what Luke didn’t want. Yorkshire was picture-perfect as they drove out of Glenfield, all sunshine and woolly sheep and hills and vales, but Emma’s eyes were closed to the beauty. Something dark, dark was hovering over them all, and she didn’t want to think about it.
Chapter 18
Luke, aged 12
‘You have to tell your dad. It’s wrong, what Ryan’s doing.’ Luke could barely look at Alan.
They were in Alan’s bedroom the following Thursday after school. Apparently, Ryan had spent most of the special group session on Tuesday coaching Mark, but Alan had come in for ‘quite a lot of poking around’ too. That meant Ryan had been touching him in the wrong places, though Alan never said anything detailed about it. None of the others had, either. It wasn’t the kind of thing you just talked about.
‘What if my dad goes ballistic?’ Alan picked up a Batman comic from his bedside table and began to tear strips of paper from the cover.
Luke shrugged. ‘He’ll still know what to do. I mean, if it’s okay for a coach to touch you, or not.’ Was it okay? ‘Tell him, Alan. It would be better if we knew what he thought.’
Alan froze for long seconds, then he tossed the comic onto his bed. ‘P’raps. But you’re coming with me.’
Luke shivered. Blimey. Alan must be really fed up – or else he was scared. Luke traipsed behind his friend as they headed downstairs. The worst part of all this was what he didn’t know – what Ryan had been doing in the showers, for instance.
Alan barged into the kitchen, where his mum was stirring something in a bowl. ‘Where’s Dad?’
‘In the stable. Wrap up, it’s cold out.’
Luke’s gut churned as he followed Alan across to the stable where Keith was whistling through his teeth and filling the hay racks for Max and Poppy, Alan’s old pony and the elderly mare who was the only other horse here now. He stopped whistling when they went in, and passed Alan a bucket.
‘Want to get fresh water for these two?’
‘Yup. Dad, I need to ask you something.’
Luke had to fight to stop his legs shaking. Telling Keith was like a test. If he said what Ryan had done was okay, then – then the world was a dangerous place.
But it wasn’t okay… If he kept thinking that, it would be true, wouldn’t it, and Keith would help them. Luke leaned on the stall door as Alan mumbled an account of Tuesday’s vaulting lesson. He didn’t make it sound like a big deal, but Keith’s eyes widened, then he looked away, not focussing on anything. A moment later he turned back to Alan, and it was as if he had a curtain over the real expression on his face.
‘Show me where he touched you.’
Alan’s hands circled around his front, and over his bum.
‘Did he say anything?’
‘He was talking about core strength and how you needed to stabilise your pelvis to be a gymnast.’
‘But you didn’t like it.’
It wasn’t a question, and Alan didn’t answer. Keith stared into space for a moment, then jerked back to Alan.
‘He probably didn’t mean anything by it, son, but I’ll come in with you tomorrow and have a word.’
‘Okay.’ Alan trudged off with the water bucket, and Luke followed him into the yard.
Outside, Alan held the bucket under the tap and hissed at Luke. ‘I hope you haven’t started something we’re all going to regret, Luke Carter. You were the one who wanted to tell Dad, and Ryan’s going to be mad, isn’t he?’
Sleeping was hard that night. Luke tossed and turned, eventually getting up at six because he couldn’t lie still any longer. In one way, it was a relief that Alan’s dad knew about what Ryan was doing, but right beside that was the feeling that they’d done something wrong, telling on Ryan. Luke’s stomach was in knots, and choking down enough breakfast to keep Mum off his back made it worse.
School had never been so endless, and Mark getting into trouble for fidgeting around in three classes straight after each other made things even worse. He was doing more and more stuff like that now, and it got right up the teachers’ noses every time. At last it was four o’clock, and Luke dived home to get his kit ready. If only, only he could stay at home and watch Mum’s stupid soap on TV and just blob. But Alan wouldn’t hear of him ducking out now. Luke choked down his fish fingers at tea time, then Mum started fussing around because she’d forgotten to iron his gym gear, and it was all Luke could do not to yell at her that he was the only one whose bloody T-shirts and shorts were ironed and he hated gym club more than he’d ever hated anything.
As soon as Keith’s car pulled up outside, Luke grabbed his half-ironed T-shirt off the ironing board and was off, escaping Mum’s wails of dismay, but what was coming would be a whole lot worse. This couldn’t go well no matter what Keith said to Ryan. Luke got into the back seat, hugging his sports bag on his lap. Roll on next summer when there’d be no more gym club for him, you could bet on that.
There was silence in the car all the way to Glenfield Secondary, where Keith told Luke and Alan to wait in the corridor while he had a word with Ryan in the gym. They were early; none of the other boys were here yet. Harry came out of the staff changing room while they were standing around, and gave Luke a grin on his way past.
‘How’s it going, kid?’
Luke’s mouth was dry. ‘Okay. I ran for thirty-five minutes with no walking breaks this week.’
‘Good on you. See you in a bit.’
Harry pushed through the gym door, and Luke stole a glance at Alan, but his friend was hunched up, both hands deep in his pockets. Half a minute later Ryan and Keith came out of the gym, talking. At least they weren’t fighting, though neither was smiling, either. Luke shifted closer to Alan.
Ryan came right up to them. ‘Hey, lads. Alan, I’m sorry you were uncomfortable last time. I didn’t realise. Thing is, with vaulting, you learn the landing much quicker if there’s someone there to shove you into place. Your dad and I have agreed it might be better if we withdrew you from the vault at the competition in March. That way, you wouldn’t be under such time pressure to be perfect in training.’
Keith was nodding, but horror was streaming out of Alan all the way through to Luke beside him.
‘No! Dad. I want to do it. I want to be a gymnast – I can learn it in time. It’s okay – I’m sorry!’
Keith’s eyes narrowed. ‘Best not, son.’
‘Please, Dad!’
Keith stood still, then Ryan clapped Luke’s shoulder and Luke nearly died of shock.
‘How about if Luke helps Alan land tonight? It only needs a bit more practice.’
Alan tugged at his father’s sleeve. ‘Yes – Luke’ll help, won’t you, Luke?’
Luke cringed. There was literally no way out of this. He nodded dumbly.
‘All right.’ Keith’s sigh nearly blew them all away, but he gripped Alan’s shoulder and gave it a little shake. ‘I’ll stay and watch.’
The other boys all gawped at them when Luke went up to the vault area with Alan after warm-up, but no one made stupid remarks, which could have been because Keith was sitting at the side looking like he was about to hand them all the death penalty. Luke took up position, ready to shove when Alan landed. But help wasn’t needed.
‘Did it!’ Alan high-fived Luke, then trotted back to the starting mat for another run-up.
Ryan’s eyes were boring into Luke like something electric. Every time he glanced the coach’s way, Ryan was either staring at them, or just turning away. In the end, most of Alan’s jumps were fine, then in the second half he had to practise his floor routine. Luke went to join Harry and the other runners in the corridors, but Keith beckoned him over on his way out.
‘Reckon we’ve sorted it, eh? He’s pretty damn good, my lad, isn’t he?’ Keith was chuckling away again, and Luke nodded. His dad never said anything like that.
The session ended with Ryan encouraging everyone to do as much practice as they needed over the Christmas holidays.
‘We’ll start the New Year with the special training afternoon the first Saturday in January, lads. I looked at the long-range forecast, and it’s high pressure all the way, so the weather should be good for a run in the woods as well as the gym prac. Have a think what you’d like to do at the end. Fish and chips in Glenfield, maybe?’
Luke glanced round. Some of the boys were nodding and grinning, but Alan, Kev, Mark, Sid and a couple of others were looking at the floor. It didn’t take an expert to work out who Ryan’s favourites were.
Back at the car, Alan got in the front with Keith. ‘Thanks, Dad. What did Ryan say when you talked to him?’
Keith gave Alan’s shoulder a pat, and Luke’s heart sank like a stone. This had all been useless, hadn’t it?
‘He explained the technique he was using. I reckon it was all a misunderstanding. Like he said, you can’t train kids without touching them, but he agreed he might have been over-enthusiastic because you’re so good. None of the others have complained, have they? Ryan wants you to win, that’s clear, so you do your best, huh?’
Luke leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He must have been one of the first Ryan had touched, that night at the start. And he hadn’t complained. He had made this his fault too, and none of it was right.
Back in Ralton Bridge, the evening became even more awful because Keith pulled up outside Luke house, and twisted round to Luke in the back.
‘Think I’d best tell your dad what went on, lad. We want to keep him in the loop. You stay here with Alan for a bit.’
Luke nearly died all over again. He watched as the front door closed behind Keith.
Alan’s eyes were glittering in the light from the streetlamp. ‘Telling my dad was your shittiest idea ever, Luke Carter, but I’ve got a plan. How we can get back at Ryan.’
Luke froze. He wasn’t going to like this, was he? ‘What?’
‘On the training Saturday. We’ll make sure we finish with a run through the woods and a bonfire, not fish and bloody chips. We have all the Christmas holidays now to plan how to give Ryan a sausage sizzle to remember. Something to focus his mind on proper training, not…’
He turned away, and Luke slumped back in his seat. Alan was crying.
Chapter 19
Friday, 14th May
‘Have you called your mum this morning?’ Emma came downstairs on Friday morning to find Luke organising his briefcase on the kitchen table. He had an early meeting today, then he was planning to visit Euan after lunch, if visitors were allowed then. Yesterday’s operation had gone well, but poor Marie had sounded terribly tense on the phone last night.
‘Chances are she’s still asleep. I’ll call her from the office. Have you seen my charger?’
Oh, for heaven’s sake. Emma opened her mouth to snap, then closed it again. Luke’s charger was in its usual place beside the toaster on the worktop. And Marie was a lot more likely to have been up half the night worrying than still snoozing away in bed. Luke was taking his ‘it’s no big deal’ attitude too far, and the only reason Emma could think of for this was to stop her talking to his mother.
She dropped the charger beside his briefcase and slid her mug into the coffee machine. She needed the caffeine this morning. ‘Make sure you call before you head for home this afternoon, too. Marie might need some support. You know how nervous she gets.’
‘I will and I do, but you’re being a mother hen. Mum knows she can call me twenty-four-seven if she needs to. I’ll text you when I’ve spoken to her, and let you know how things are, huh?’
He stuffed the charger into his jacket pocket and left her alone with her coffee. Emma glowered after him. Obviously, she wasn’t supposed to call Marie too. Did Luke think this breezy acceptance that everything was fine would reassure Marie? He was wrong if he did… and he was wrong if he thought she wasn’t going to call his mother, but no need to say that.
Her phone vibrated on the table. Kate.
‘Emma, Alan went ballistic when I told him about talking to Granny yesterday. He’s forbidden me to mention it again, but of course I can’t leave it there. Did Luke say anything?’
Emma’s conscience twinged. ‘I’m going to tackle him about it tonight. It was his dad’s op yesterday and he had to cope with his mum’s nerves last night. I didn’t want to start a difficult convo when he was uptight already. I’ll get back to you tonight or tomorrow, huh?’
‘Thanks.’
Poor Kate sounded terribly down. Guilt thudded into Emma’s middle, but there was nothing more she could do for the moment.
She waited until half past nine, in case Luke was right and Marie was still asleep, then connected to Marie and Euan’s landline. Her mother-in-law took the call on the second ring.
‘Hello, dear. I’m just off the phone with Luke. I haven’t spoken to Euan today yet, but the nurse said he’s doing very well. Of course they would say that, though, wouldn’t they? I’m going to see him later on.’
Last night’s nerves were gone – or at least improved – this morning. Emma chatted for a while and promised to visit at the weekend. Hopefully she’d get a chance to ask Marie about the past, too – a ladies’ lunch, perhaps? A message pinged into her phone almost as soon as she ended the call, and Emma opened it with Marie’s ‘bye, dear’ still in her ear. Dad had good night, Mum calm, all ok. Emma replied with a thumbs-up, and sat down to plan what she was supposed to do with the rest of the day. The washing was waiting, and she really should get on with her translation project, too. The deadline was at the end of the month and she still had five chapters to do.
The tumble dryer finished its cycle, and Emma pulled out the spare room bed things and took them upstairs. She was remaking the bed when a thought struck. This was the room where Mrs Alderson had found her Edwardian fireplace. Which wall would it be on? Emma abandoned the pillows and went to knock on walls, and yes, one did sound different. Hollow. Wow – imagine if there was a fireplace boarded up here. Even if it was shabby, they could have it restored, couldn’t they? A look at the house plans to see if there was any mention of asbestos before they started tearing down walls would be best, though. She made a mental note to ask Mrs Alderson about it.
Luke was as good as his word. Two more messages pinged into Emma’s phone over the course of the day. Can visit Dad this afternoon and With Dad now, he says hello. Dr pleased with him. So that was one less thing to worry about. And a message from Wendy in Jerusalem was cheering, too – she wanted to confirm the date of the scan, so she and Dad were remembering about it. Emma sent a few photos of Ralton Bridge, and received a couple of Dad and Wendy’s new courtyard garden in exchange. All nice family stuff, which was lovely. Well done, baby.
By half past five, she had translated two more chapters and was working her way down a mug of peppermint tea when her mobile rang.
‘Kate?’
The voice in Emma’s ear was high-pitched and shaking. ‘Oh Emma, it’s Alan. He—’
A clatter came through the phone. It sounded as if Kate had dropped hers. Emma pressed her mobile to her head, straining to make sense of the incoherent half-sentences in her ear.
‘Kate. Stop. Tell me slowly what’s happened.’
Deep breathing came down the phone, then:
‘I tried to talk to Alan about Ryan James a moment ago and he stamped upstairs to the study and he’s locked the door. He’s crying – he sounds hysterical but he won’t talk to me and he won’t open the door, either. I’m scared, Emma.’
‘Oh no. Would it help if I came over?’
‘Could Luke come too? I think they have to talk about whatever happened.’
‘He isn’t back yet. I’ll leave him a note. See you soon.’
Emma hurried to the top of the hill with her bike, then freewheeled down towards the Vale. As usual, the estate was busy with children playing and parents out gardening, calling to each other over their pretty white wooden fences. Happy faces in picture-perfect suburbia, but what was going on in Kate’s study? By the sound of it, Alan needed professional help. Not talking about this was doing him no good at all.
