Her Perfect Family(17)

‘We’ve charged him with breach of the peace and criminal damage. As I say, he’ll stay in custody for now while we make more inquiries. You’re safe here. He’s calmed down and he’s claiming to be very sorry for the scene here.’

‘You’re not expecting me to feel sorry for him?’

‘No, no. Of course not. But we have no hard evidence at this stage to suggest he was in any way responsible for the shooting.’

‘But he’s a suspect?’

‘Yes, he is.’

Once again I picture him in our house. In our life. And the images fire another thought. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you, by the way. Whether we can have Gemma’s laptop and phone back? It’s just she always took the most photographs in the family. And she keeps them on her laptop.’ I think of the batch I most long to see. Gemma in that pink dress we chose together. She gave her phone to the assistant to take the picture – better camera than mine. And she has pictures of her birthday tea too. I so regret now letting Gemma take all the photographs. She’s much better with the technology but never remembers to message them to me.

‘I’m sorry but we normally hold on to all evidence until we have a trial. A mobile phone is often crucial.’

‘But what about the laptop? She keeps the photos backed up there. More storage. It would mean a lot to me.’

DI Sanders looks at me intently and I see a softening in her expression. ‘I’ll see where we are with checking the laptop. But I can’t make any promises. And we’ll need to keep the phone.’

‘Right. Thank you. And Alex: that’s why you came here, is it? Just to talk about the scene earlier.’ I still don’t quite understand this visit.

‘Not only that.’ Again, she pauses, picking at imagined fluff from her trousers. ‘Alex is suggesting that Gemma had started a secret relationship. With one of her professors. He says that’s why they broke up.’

. . . she’s been cheating on me . . .

All at once I’m holding my breath again. It’s both shocking and offensive; it doesn’t sound like Gemma at all and my first instinct is to defend her. And yet? I think of the change in Gemma in recent weeks. That distant tone on the phone. That disconnect which I could never understand. Her reluctance to explain her split from Alex.

The baby. Dear God. The baby.

‘You knew nothing about that?’

‘No. Nothing.’ It’s my turn to pause. ‘Do you not think he’s just saying that – making this up, I mean. To get back at her. To cover his tracks.’

DI Sanders rolls her lips together.

I continue. ‘So why is Alex saying he came here? Why did he cause the scene and frighten us all? Because he’s angry. Bitter? Surely that makes it more likely that he could have been involved in the shooting.’

DI Sanders ignores my question and presses on. ‘Have you ever been aware of either Alex or your daughter involved with guns in any way? Shooting club? Clay-pigeon shooting? Anything like that?’

‘No. No. Absolutely not.’ I scrape the hair back from my forehead but then I turn away. ‘Hang on. They did go on some country weekend once. Scotland. I think there was shooting but Gemma was upset about it. I don’t think she took part.’

‘And Alex?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t remember.’

‘Do you think you could check? Perhaps look back at the photographs and the dates for me. Find out the name of the place.’

‘Yes. OK. If you like.’ I take a tissue from my pocket and try my question again. ‘So what is Alex saying about why he came to the hospital? Is it because we ignored his note? You got the note? I asked the guard to pass it on. Alex was asking to see Gemma.’

‘Yes, I did. Thank you.’

‘And we were right to ignore it, weren’t we?’ My mind is racing suddenly, wondering if we could have handled it another way. ‘I mean – there’s no way we could let him see Gemma. Not after she finished with him.’

‘Yes. Completely understandable.’ DI Sanders pauses. ‘Look. Alexander says he came here because he wants to know if the baby is his. Or from Gemma’s new relationship. He says it’s his right and that’s why he made the scene.’

‘I see.’ I don’t, actually. I don’t see or understand anything any more. The whole world no longer makes any sense to me. More scenes are swimming in front of me. I remember Gemma’s phone call to me, explaining that they had suddenly split up and that we needed to cancel all the plans for the joint graduation dinner. The summer villa holiday together. When was that? I’m trying to do the sums.

I also remember that when I asked questions about Alex, she started to raise her voice, to get upset. Shouting. And with the echo of the shouting, other pictures start swirling around my brain. From much further back. Years back.

My father slumped at the bottom of the stairs and my mother shouting, shouting, shouting . . .

Opening my lunchbox at school and finding tea bags between the bread and everyone laughing. Tea-bag sandwiches. Come here. Rachel’s got tea-bag sandwiches . . .

I feel very hot suddenly. Confused and terribly hot.

‘Are you all right, Mrs Hartley?’

I can hear DI Sanders’ voice but I feel this sort of daze.

I close my eyes and see my parents in the kitchen. I look down. Pink pyjamas with white embroidered hearts. Rabbit slippers. And then there’s screaming. My mother is screaming . . .