Little Boy Blue

39

She didn’t see her coming until it was too late.

Sally Jackson had been in the midst of a particularly difficult conversation when the call came. Paul’s PA had seized the nettle, ringing Sally to tell her that her husband had been arrested and taken to Southampton Central. She’d been irritated when the phone rang – she worked at a local Family Centre and was busy explaining to an irate dad why his meetings with his estranged children had to be supervised. These discussions required finesse and patience, not interruptions, so she was tempted not to answer. But when the phone kept ringing, her curiosity was aroused.

She didn’t know what to say at first, other than to check that it wasn’t a joke and that she was sure. But the tone of Sandra Allen’s voice – tight, sombre, with a hint of embarrassment – convinced Sally that she was. What do you do in these situations? Sally had extricated herself from her work, claiming a migraine, and hurried to her car. But once inside she just sat there, trying to process what was happening. Why hadn’t Paul contacted her? Terrified, she’d considered calling a lawyer friend, then, discarding that option, decided to go to her sister’s. In the end, she’d done neither, driving home instead. It was like she was on auto-pilot, heading to the place she felt safest.

‘Mrs Jackson?’

She had just stepped out of the car when the woman approached. She was curious to look at – beautiful from one angle, but scarred on the other – and the situation was made stranger still by the look of concern on her face. How did she know so soon? Who was she?

‘I’m Emilia Garanita from the Evening News. I understand you’ve had a terrible shock.’

She was so blind-sided by the woman’s sudden approach – had she been lying in wait for her? – that initially Sally was struck dumb.

‘There’s no way you can be alone at a time like this, so why don’t I sit with you until someone else comes?’

Sally was surprised to see that the woman had taken her arm and was now guiding her towards her own front door.

‘Your hands are shaking, poor thing. Give me your keys and I’ll do the honours. Then we can have a nice cup of tea.’

She stood there smiling, her hand outstretched for the keys. She seemed so confident of what she was doing that Sally now found herself rummaging for her keys. As she pulled them out, however, she spotted her key ring. On it was a small picture of her, Paul and the twins, taken about six months ago, at the top of Scafell Pike. They were all smiling – tired but exhilarated by their triumph in reaching the summit.

‘I’m sorry, who did you say you were again?’ she said, keeping the keys gripped tight in her hand.

‘I’m from the Southampton Evening News,’ the woman replied, her smile tightening a touch. ‘I know you must be wondering what to do for the best and I’d like to help. Within the hour, you’re going to have reporters, TV journalists and God knows who else camped on your doorstep. I can deal with them. Let me do that for you,’ she said, casting an eye across the street as a van pulled up near by, ‘or, believe you me, it’s going to be a free-for-all. And nobody – least of all you – wants that.’

‘I don’t even know you.’

‘Here’s my ID,’ she replied, thrusting a laminated press card into Sally’s hand. ‘You can call the office if you like. It’s now or never, Sally.’

Sally now spotted a reporter she recognized from the local news heading up the road towards her.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t want to talk to anyone,’ Sally said, finally finding her voice.

‘You’re going to have to talk to someone -’

‘Please get off my property,’ said Sally, cutting her short. She opened the door and bustled inside.

She turned to find the woman had a toe on the doorstep – where do these people get their cheek? – and slammed the door shut quickly. She hurried out of the hall, taking refuge in the kitchen, but before she’d even sat down, the doorbell rang. This time she heard a male voice, imploring her to answer. She said nothing in response. There was no way she could talk to anyone. She had the boys to think about and, besides, what could she tell them? She didn’t have any information about why Paul had been arrested, what was happening or when he’d be back.

The only thing she did know was that their happy, ordered life was about to implode.