Strangers

13

Not even six o’clock yet. It was barely even light. Scott had hardly slept. His arms felt like lead from all the work he’d done yesterday, he had to go to work in a couple of hours, and now some selfish fucker was banging on the front door at this hour. Michelle rolled over onto her back and groaned something he couldn’t make out. ‘I’ll get it, shall I?’ he said. Fucking useless family.

Scott grabbed yesterday’s dust-covered T-shirt and jeans off the floor and put them on again. The noise at the door continued. If they wake George up, he thought, I’ll have this fucker’s balls. He felt in the mood for a fight. Another fight.

He fumbled with the chain and the lock, then yanked the door open. The man on the doorstep surprised him. They’d met before at Kenneth Potter’s house. ‘Scott Griffiths?’ Sergeant Ross asked. Scott didn’t immediately respond with anything other than a bemused mumble and a nod of the head. The officer spoke again. ‘Scott Griffiths, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Graham McBride. You are not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say will be noted down and may be used in evidence. Do you understand?’

Scott looked at him, blank. Was this a joke? ‘Who the fuck’s Graham McBride?’ he said, then realisation dawned. Last night. Tammy. The pervert outside the phone box with his dick out. Scott’s legs weakened. ‘Shit…’

‘Do you understand, Mr Griffiths?’

‘I understand,’ he said, still not sure he did. ‘Murder? But I didn’t… It wasn’t my fault. He was exposing himself at my step-daughter and I just…’

‘I need to remind you that you’re under caution, sir.’

‘What the hell’s going on?’ Michelle demanded. Scott looked around to try and explain but he couldn’t speak, could barely even begin to process what was happening. His mouth was dry. ‘Scott?’ she said. ‘Scott, what’s this about?’

He just looked at her, then looked at the police officer, then shook his head. He felt numb inside… didn’t know what to do, what to say… Had he killed a man?

Sergeant Ross moved aside to let one of his officers cuff Scott. Scott didn’t resist. Didn’t do anything. ‘Get him in the van, Hamilton,’ the sergeant ordered before turning his attention to Michelle. ‘Mrs Griffiths?’

‘Yes…’ she said quietly, watching in stunned disbelief as they led her husband away.

‘We’ve witnesses who’ve identified your husband as being involved in an altercation with Mr McBride yesterday afternoon, during which Mr McBride sustained serious injuries. I’m sorry to have to inform you he’s since died from those injuries.’

The sergeant continued to talk, and Michelle continued to listen, though nothing she was hearing was making any sense now. She wanted to protest but what could she say? Scott had been in a fight yesterday, but he’d told her he’d just knocked the other man about a bit… just enough to scare him. Then she remembered how Tammy had described the incident. Jesus, exactly what had Scott done?

George was crying now. Tammy was downstairs. She was at the bottom of the staircase, just behind her mother. ‘Mum, what’s happening. Are they—?’

‘Go and see to George,’ Michelle interrupted, screaming at her daughter to move. But it was too late. Phoebe already had George and they were all crowded into the hallway now, watching Scott being bundled into the back of a police van and driven away.

The sergeant told Michelle in no uncertain terms to stay home and wait for news. All she could do was watch as the convoy of two patrol cars and the van turned right out of the drive and headed for Thussock.

Tammy shut the door. Michelle leant against the wall, then slid down to the floor and stayed there, feet sticking out across the hallway. Numb.

‘What’s going on?’ Phoebe asked.

‘They took Scott,’ Tammy started to explain.

‘Took him where?’

‘Where d’you think? The police station.’

‘But why?’

‘You tell me. You never know with Scott. I think he—’

‘He’s there because he tried to protect you,’ Michelle screamed at her.

‘I’m sorry, Mum, I just…’

‘This is your fault. If you hadn’t disappeared yesterday, none of this would have happened.’

Tammy’s visible shock turned to anger. ‘It’s not my fault. How is any of this my fault? Come on, explain it to me… I had to get out of the house because I was sick of the noise and the atmosphere – not my fault. The local pervert decides to flash his dick at me – not my fault. Scott decides to beat the crap out of him – not my fault. You marry a fucking idiot who makes all our lives hell, treats you like shit and knocks you about, then drags us the length of the country away from anyone and anything that matters to us when he fucks up – that’s not my fault either.’

Sobbing, Michelle got up and walked into the kitchen, her head spinning. Tammy followed her. Phoebe – eyes wide, nervous as hell, still holding onto George – didn’t move.

‘Scott messed up,’ Michelle said. ‘I get it.’

‘No, Mum, you don’t. Scott messed up again. We all get hurt because of him again. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.’

‘You’ve got him all wrong.’

‘No I haven’t. It’s you who’s wrong. You’re the one in denial. Scott ruins lives, it’s as simple as that. Yours, ours, that bloke from yesterday, that little girl…’

‘It was an accident. Stop bringing her up. There’s not a day goes by when he doesn’t—’

‘No one else matters to Scott but Scott, don’t you see that?’

‘That’s not true. What happened with that little girl could have happened to anyone.’

‘He didn’t stop. Bloody hell, Mum, he didn’t stop. He hit her and he didn’t stop.’

‘He went back…’

‘It was too late. She was already dead.’

‘We’ve been over this a million times. He made a mistake. He accepts that now. He paid the price.’

‘No, we’re paying the price.’

‘Look, I know you resent him and—’

‘I don’t resent him, Mum, I hate him. I hate him for what he’s doing to you.’

‘And I love him. I know what he is and what he does, but I love him.’

‘Jesus, that’s pathetic.’

‘Well it happens to be true. Please don’t fight against me, Tammy. I need you and your sister. I don’t know if I can go through all this again.’

‘Do you think he did it?’

Tammy’s question floored Michelle for a moment. She answered instinctively, though with enough hesitation to reveal a trace of doubt. ‘No.’

‘You know what he’s capable of. You more than anyone. He’s hit you enough times…’

‘He’s not a murderer. He might be many things, but he’s not a murderer.’

‘Who are you trying to kid, Mum?’

‘Tammy, just leave it,’ Michelle yelled. ‘I can’t handle this, not now. We’re right on the edge here, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

‘He’s already been responsible for one death…’

‘You think I don’t know that?’

‘But he never takes responsibility. He always finds someone else to blame or finds a way to squirm out of it.’

‘Please, Tam… please just stop.’

‘No, Mum. You need to face facts and—’

‘There’s nothing I can do, can’t you see that? Christ knows I’ve already tried. I don’t have a way out, love. There’s nowhere left for me to go. I’ve got nowhere left to run to.’