Silent Victim(48)

‘It’s all down to Mum, you know,’ Theresa said. ‘Whether she knows it or not, Emma’s emulating her style. I remember, growing up, Mum used to wear lots of tunic blouses, floppy hats, maxi-print dresses, all that stuff.’

This was news to me. ‘But why would Emma want to copy your mum if she gave her such a hard time growing up?’

‘It wasn’t all bad,’ Theresa said sadly. ‘Emma only focuses on the bad bits because she punishes herself for Mum leaving. Mum was difficult to live with, and when she got drunk things would get a lot worse. But she could go weeks without a drink. She used to bring us crabbing down the beach, show us how to paint. Dad used to go away on his digs for weeks at a time. That’s when she’d get lonely and hit the bottle. I wish . . .’ Theresa sighed, our conversation taking on a more serious tone.

‘Go on,’ I said, as we turned into Colchester Castle.

‘I wish I could tell Emma that Mum leaving isn’t her fault. Maybe if she realised that, she wouldn’t feel so tormented by the past.’

‘It’s not your mum she’s worried about,’ I said. ‘It’s Luke Priestwood. Right now I’d like to focus on what happened with him.’

‘Well, this is where it all started,’ she said, relinquishing her hold as she found a bench in the expansive grounds. Sitting here, with the birds singing and the sun warming our backs, it could almost be taken for a spring day. But my time in the sunshine was short lived, as Theresa opened up the wounds of her past.

‘After Mum left, Emma went through a rough patch. I wasn’t at home very much. Neither Dad nor Emma were coping very well. Then one day Dad told me Emma had a new art teacher, and he had really turned things around.’ She stared into the distance as a cool breeze played with loose strands of her hair. ‘He was in his twenties, good looking, the sort of man that girls swooned over back then. I think that’s why he liked Emma. She was quiet and cautious. He befriended her and she began to open up to him. If you ask me, their problems began the moment he agreed to meet her here.’

I glanced around at the castle grounds, busy with visitors making the most of the sunny day. I tried to imagine a younger version of my wife, sitting on this bench, pouring her heart out to Luke. The image would not come. ‘For a teacher to meet a pupil after school . . . it was very reckless of him. She was young and vulnerable. I can’t help but think he took advantage.’

‘You’re right,’ Theresa said, her voice tinged with regret. ‘And I blame myself for not picking up on it earlier on. She told me she was seeing him outside school, but when I brought it up with Dad, he said their meetings were above board.’

‘But they weren’t,’ I said. ‘Were they?’

Theresa shook her head. ‘Emma fell for Luke very quickly. I’d moved out and Dad was so distant . . . it was hardly any wonder she attached herself to him.’

‘Luke shouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place. Any fool can see that.’ I tried to keep my emotions in check. Meeting with a pupil was nothing compared to Emma trying to kill him.

‘He must have got a kick out of it, somewhere along the line.’ Theresa sighed at the memory, her gaze distant. ‘I only had to mention his name and she would turn bright red. It was obvious she had a huge crush on him. I thought it was harmless. Dad made it sound like Luke was counselling her and, for a while, she seemed happier.’

My heart sank as she echoed Luke’s words.

‘I knew something had happened because a few months later he cut off all contact with her. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was to follow him around. I had no idea how long it had been going on for, until it all came out.’

‘So you’re saying that she followed him? What about the flowers that were sent to the house?’

‘Oh, we got flowers all right. At first Dad thought they were from Luke. We all did. That’s until we found out she was sending them to herself. Thank God we weren’t into social media back then is all I can say. At least her lies were limited to the people she told in school.’ She gave me a sideways glance, regret written all over her face. ‘Want me to keep going?’

I nodded, reminding myself that it was all in the past. Emma was a different person now. I would make her well again.

Theresa took a breath, her hands lightly clasped on her lap. ‘She used to stalk him at school. Whenever anyone spoke to her about it, she’d put the onus back on him, saying he was stringing her along, that he loved her and wouldn’t leave her alone. The more Luke tried to push her away, the more obsessed she became. It was almost tragic.’

Tragic? If only she knew. My thoughts streaked through my mind. Or did she know? How much had Emma told her? In the distance a group of mothers and toddlers assembled, one of the children shrieking as the red balloon she was holding was taken by the wind. I watched its ascent as it bobbed from left to right, its destination orchestrated by the unpredictable weather.

Theresa crossed her legs, clasping her hands around her knee. ‘Perhaps fantasising about Luke gave her a break from her own thoughts. Maybe it was easier to live in that fantasy world. She got over him in time. University helped. Having new friends and facing different challenges really brought her out of herself. That was the last I heard about Luke until Dad’s funeral. Maybe it was Luke who sent the flowers that time. I don’t know.’ She shrugged.