Hidden Depths Read Free Page A

agencies, ended up working on Canary Wharf . . . It was a lot to cope with, two kids under three and no man around.’
    Then the woman did respond, just nodding her head a touch to show that she understood.
    ‘I started him at the nursery at the school in the village. He didn’t want to go at first, they had to drag him off me, and when I went back an hour later he was still sobbing. It broke my heart, but I thought it was for the best. He needed the company. The health visitor said it was the right thing to do. And he did get used to it. He used to go in without screaming, at least. But all the time looking at me with those eyes. Not speaking but the eyes saying, “Don’t make me go in there, Mam. Please don’t make me go.”’ Julie was sitting on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chin, her arms clasped around them. She looked up at the detective, who was still watching and waiting. It came to her suddenly that this woman, large and solid like rock, might once have known tragedy herself. That was why she could sit there without making those stupid, sympathetic noises Sal and the doctor had made. This woman knew that nothing she could say would make it better. But Julie didn’t care about the detective’s sadness and the thought was fleeting. She went back to her story.
    ‘It was about that time Geoff came home from London. He said the work had dried up, but I heard from his mate that there’d been some row with the foreman. He’s a good worker, Geoff, and he won’t be pissed about. It was a difficult time for him. He was never one for sitting around and he was used to making big money. He put in a new kitchen for me and did up the bathroom. You’d never believe what this place looked like when we first moved in. But then the cash ran out . . .’
    Sal had made tea. In a pot, not with bags in the mugs as Julie always made it. Julie reached out to the tray and poured herself another cup. It wasn’t that she wanted one, but it gave her time to sort out what she wanted to say.
    ‘It wasn’t a good time. Geoff wasn’t used to the kids. When he was working in London, he had only one long weekend a month at home. Then it was a novelty for him being there. He’d make a fuss of them, bring presents. We were all on our best behaviour. And every night he was out at the club drinking with his mates. When he came back for good it couldn’t be like that. You know what it’s like. Baby clothes drying on the radiator and toys all over the floor. Mucky nappies . . . There were times when he lost patience, especially with Luke. Laura would giggle and play up to him. Luke seemed to be in a world of his own. Geoff never hit him. But he’d shout and Luke would get so scared you’d think he had been battered. I used to shout all the time but they knew I never meant it. They’d get their own way anyway. It was different with Geoff. Even I got scared.’
    She was silent for a moment thinking of Geoff and his temper, the gloom which lingered over the house after one of his outbursts. But she couldn’t keep quiet for long and the words started again.
    ‘Luke was no bother in the infants’ school. He even seemed to like going. Perhaps he was used to it, because the nursery was in the same building. He had a lovely teacher in the first class, Mrs Sullivan. She was like a grandma to them, sat them on her knee when she was teaching them to read. She told me he had problems – nothing serious, she said – but it would be best to get him checked out. She wanted him to see a psychologist. But there was no money, or the waiting list was too long and it never happened. Geoff said the only thing wrong with Luke was that he was lazy. Then he left us. He said we got on his nerves. We were dragging him down. But I knew fine well that he’d been having a fling with a nurse from the RVI. They ended up living together. They’re married now.’
    She stopped again for a moment. Not because she’d run out of things to say, but because