Good Me Bad Me(73)

‘Where are you guys going?’ I ask.

‘Sas and I have been invited to the Bowens’ for dinner tonight but seeing as you’re not feeling very well I thought we should stay home instead.’

‘I feel better now after resting.’

Perhaps if they go out I could talk to Phoebe, reason with her, persuade her I’m different from you.

‘I’m not sure we should go, you’ve had a lot to deal with recently,’ Mike says.

‘I’m fine, honestly, I’m going to catch up with some schoolwork.’

‘I hope you’d tell us if you weren’t, Milly, that’s what we’re here for.’

‘Mike, she said she was okay, didn’t she? Anyway, we cancelled last time, we really should go.’

Mike nods, says, looks like I’ve been out-voted. Once they have their coats on he delays their departure, a series of time-wasting tactics, sorts through the junk mail on the shelf by the door, uses his foot to rearrange the pile of shoes on the floor. Comments on how the porch could do with being re-tiled.

‘Shall I quickly measure it now?’ he says.

‘No, we’re already late, come on,’ Saskia replies.

It’s not maternal his instinct but he senses it, some kind of tension in the house. He makes a final attempt.

‘What about Rosie then, she needs to go out.’

‘One of the girls can do it,’ Saskia replies.

‘Are you sure you don’t mind us going, Milly?’

‘It’s fine.’

‘The number for the Bowens is on the blackboard, call us if you need anything, anything at all,’ he says before they leave.

I don’t know what to do. Whether I should go up to Phoebe’s room, knock on the door. Ask her if I can talk to her about something, but I’m not sure what to say. I sit down on one of the sofas in the games room to think, Rosie at my feet. Her sharp ears hear it first, movement from above. She sits up, cocks her head, listens to Phoebe’s footsteps coming down the stairs. She calls for Rosie, but the dog doesn’t move. She calls again, this time more impatient. Forceful.

‘She’s in here with me,’ I respond.

She doesn’t answer straight away, must have thought I was elsewhere. Then she says without coming into the room, ‘She needs to go out, Mum just texted me.’

Rosie gets up at the mention of going out, pads into the hallway towards Phoebe.

‘For fuck’s sake, I’ll do it then.’

When she comes into the games room she ignores me, walks over to the patio door and opens it. Rosie follows her but won’t go outside, sits down at the open door.

‘Out, now.’

She still doesn’t move so Phoebe grabs her collar, drags her out on to the patio. The security light goes on overhead. She stays outside with her even though she doesn’t have a coat on and I know from the air filtering in, it’s freezing. When Rosie’s finished Phoebe brings her in, closes the door, her eyes trained on her phone. Mine, on her. It’s now or never.

‘Can I talk to you about something, Phoebe?’

She looks up from her phone but finds it hard to look directly at me, her eyes wandering all over the place.

‘Depends.’

‘I know we haven’t really been getting on very well but I’d like that to change.’

‘No point.’

‘Why?’

‘You won’t be here for much longer.’

‘I’d like to stay for as long as I can.’

‘Not up to you, is it?’

I stand up, she looks at me, asks, ‘What are you doing? One of my friends is coming over, he’ll be here in a minute.’

She’s scared. I don’t want her to be. I want to tell her together we could run the world, a killer team, excuse the pun. She walks past me, gets to the doorway, and just before she leaves the room she says, ‘Before you know it, Dad will have some other fucker in your room. It’ll be like you never existed.’





32


The next day when I leave the school courtyard Phoebe’s there with Clondine and Izzy. Clondine smiles but the other two turn away. How long have I got before smiles and ignoring turn into staring and pointing? That’s her, can you believe it, the Peter Pan Killer’s daughter.

When I get home both Mike and Saskia are there. Good timing, he says, we wanted to talk to you about something before the weekend begins. Saskia won’t meet my eyes when we sit down, Mike offers to put the kettle on, neither of us replies.

‘We wanted to tell you, Sas and I, that we’re very proud of you, of what you’ve managed to do. There aren’t many other teenagers I know that could have coped with such pressure, and in such a mature way, but now the trial’s over we need to look forward and discuss what the future holds.’

Two days, that’s all it’s been since the verdict. Can’t. Wait. To get rid of me.

‘June and the social services team have been looking into a permanent placement for you. They think they might have found a potential family who live in the country near Oxford, lots of space and fields and two dogs, I believe. It’s not confirmed yet, obviously you’ll have to meet them and see how you get on, but it looks very promising. What do you think about the idea?’