Bad Sister(89)

From the time it had taken them to leave the back door and walk around the front, the flames had taken hold – engulfing the top floor. How had it happened that quickly?

He wiped tears away with the back of his hand.

He could see his dad. Trapped. Jenna turned to him.

‘You’re so stupid, Brett. Why did you start it? You could’ve killed us and look what you’ve done to our house!’ Jenna’s face was red, her eyes bulging.

‘I didn’t do it.’ He creased his forehead – why was she saying that?

As they stood at the front of the house looking up, and with the sounds of squealing sirens filling the quiet night, Jenna reached into the pocket of his soggy dressing gown.

She pulled out the lighter.

‘You little freak. You did start the fire. You caused this.’

Everything went black in his head, like the wet blanket had been placed over it. His chest hurt. He never did anything right.

This was his fault. He should’ve stopped her. Jenna did this but he should have taken charge of it, stopped it.

He looked up at his stepsister as she stared open-mouthed at the upstairs window.

At his dad, screaming there.





CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT


Connie


Friday 23 June

Waking up with the knowledge Lindsay Wade had slept in the spare room in order to protect her made Connie smile. For someone who had initially come across stern, uptight, hard to like – Lindsay was being incredibly soft right now. Her insistence that it should be her that offered the protection was reassuring.

Today, though, Lindsay was going to organise for DC Clarke to sit downstairs in the waiting room of her consultancy while she saw her two clients. One of them being Brett. After talking the case over last night, both she and Lindsay had decided that Connie should call Brett and ask to see him. As they were currently unaware of Flint’s real name or his whereabouts, he was their best lead. Connie wanted her own answers to some things too, and with Clarke close to hand she wouldn’t be so worried about asking awkward questions.

Today was going to be an interesting one.

Brett fiddled with the zip of his hoody, and at the same time bounced his leg up and down. The vibration of the movement together with his erratic zipping action put Connie on edge.

‘Nothing to worry about, Brett. I only wanted to continue where we left off yesterday.’

‘Who’s the geezer downstairs?’ He sniffed, and swiped his sleeve across his nose.

‘He’s a policeman. He’s here because I had a break-in. Just after your session on Monday.’ That wasn’t strictly true, but she didn’t want to get into details, she wanted to see his reaction.

‘Oh, really? Why would anyone bother? Not as if you keep money or drugs here, is it?’

‘I guess some people might think I do. You’d be surprised how many people mix up psychologist with psychiatrist.’

‘Uh, yeah, I suppose.’ His face remained neutral, he hadn’t flinched at the mention of the police or a break-in. ‘He wasn’t here yesterday.’ He gave her a quizzical look.

‘Well, no – I didn’t think I needed him. But since then …’ Should she mention being followed yesterday? He might have been involved.

‘Go on, since then, what?’

In for a penny. ‘I was followed, and a few other minor things have happened which made the police believe they should keep a closer eye on me.’

‘Wow,’ he said, nodding. His eyes narrowed. ‘I guess you think I have something to do with this?’

Immediately he had assumed he was being blamed. Connie wrestled with her conflicting feelings. This young man had been blamed for a fire and a death. So far, his entire short life had been filled with mistrust. She was treating him exactly the same as he’d always been treated. She felt bad now for even thinking he’d killed Steph and Dylan.

‘No. But I think you might know who has.’

He raised one eyebrow high. ‘Are you going to give me a clue?’

‘You spoke yesterday about Flint.’

Brett’s skin blanched. His Adam’s apple bobbed noticeably as he swallowed hard.

‘Look, what Flint does is his business. We haven’t had contact since he left the YOI.’

‘You said he’d helped you settle when you moved from the secure home to the YOI, and in return you helped him with writing. A lot of favours are carried out in prison, once you owe someone, they will expect payback. What did he expect from you?’

‘As I said, the payback was that I helped him with in-cell work. That’s it.’ He sat upright, crossing his arms and legs. He was closing off.

‘Can you remember anything about what he said, things he asked you to write, that could explain why he might be targeting me?’

‘You’re not getting me to grass, Connie, that’s not cool.’

She sat back hard in her chair, running her hands roughly through her hair. It was prison code, you didn’t grass on fellow inmates – that was the worst offence a prisoner could commit.

‘You aren’t in prison any more, Brett – you’re in the real world now. And you have to get on in this world. If you’re not careful, you are going to be implicated in this.’

‘Are you threatening me?’