Final Cut(39)

Leave us to what? I think, but before I can ask she moves off towards one of the fruit machines, greeting Bryan as she goes. A minute later a group of five or six girls arrives and joins her. I scan them anxiously and, sure enough, one is Kat, though at first glance she seems totally different. She’s dressed in ankle boots, tight jeans, a black leather jacket. She’s wearing lipstick, plus blusher. Her eyes are dark. She looks much older and, next to her, wearing less makeup but still some, stands Ellie. Neither has noticed me, and I watch as Monica gives each of the girls a handful of coins, then puts her hand on Kat’s shoulder. The gesture is maternal, protective; it’s clear she has their trust, and I feel the urge to take out my phone to film them. To counteract the bad things I’ve seen, I tell myself.

‘How about that drink?’ says Bryan, and I turn away. In the corner four plastic chairs are arranged around a Formica table and we sit opposite each other. Between us there’s a saucer, a few wrapped chocolates. He takes out a hip flask.

‘Want some?’

I nod and he pours what I presume is whisky into plastic cups. I watch Kat and Ellie. They’re both on their phones now, flicking through who knows what. Easy in each other’s company, they’re so relaxed it almost borders on indifference. Ellie holds her phone up to Kat, who examines it conspiratorially, but then each goes back to her own browsing as Monica leans against the machines like a mother hen.

‘They’re okay, you think?’

He glances over. ‘They look fine to me.’

I sip my drink. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you told me. About Gavin, on the night I arrived. Any idea why he’d lie?’

He shakes his head. ‘None.’

‘David told me Gavin’s the one who’s been selling drugs to the girls.’

He cocks his head.

‘He said that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Gavin? You’re sure?’

‘Well, no. Not by name. He said “my friend”, but who else could he have meant?’

He hesitates, then downs his drink before pouring another measure. He swallows hard.

‘He didn’t mean Gavin. I think he was talking about me.’

The words sound wrong.

‘What?’

‘I used to do that,’ he says.

‘What? Sell drugs?’

‘A little bit, yeah. It was just a bit of weed, and I stopped years ago, though David might not know it. But mostly I used to take stuff. Heavy stuff, you know? But it was when I was a kid. Not any more. Not much else to do, back then. You know what it’s like, surely?’

He’s said it pointedly. As if he knows.

‘I fell in with a bad crowd,’ he continues. ‘Took me a while to see it. And that lady there’ – he gestures towards Monica – ‘is the person who saved me.’

‘Saved you? You were together?’

‘I wouldn’t say that, but she persuaded me I was on a route to prison. Or worse.’

‘It was that bad?’

He laughs. ‘Oh, yes. I was a wreck. Nicking things, you know. The works.’

What? Selling your body, too? Breathing in the fat burps of drunk strangers so you could get your next hit? I don’t think so, though I suppose it’s possible.

‘That’s why I help out when I can. You know?’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘I rebuilt the village hall. Give the kids something to do. And Monica helps out, too, makes sure there’s a few things for the youngsters to do up there, keep ’em on the right track. It’s all about building a community,’ he continues. He nods towards where Kat and Ellie stand with Monica, laughing with their friends. ‘They look fine to me.’

I smile. He’s right. The sight of them takes me back for a moment to the reason I wanted to make this documentary.

‘Maybe I worry too much.’

‘Maybe.’

But then I remember Zoe’s pregnancy, the rumours that Daisy didn’t kill herself, Bryan saying that she and Sadie had fallen out.

‘Do you think Daisy’s death was related to Sadie running away? You said they argued.’

‘I don’t know.’ He sighs, then leans forward. ‘Maybe. There were rumours that things got nasty between them. One of them threatened the other.’

‘Who?’

‘Daisy. Daisy threatened Sadie, I think. She said she’d kill her. That’s what I heard, anyway. Don’t know how much truth there is in it. It was a long time ago.’

‘Almost ten years,’ I say without thinking. ‘To the day.’

‘A long time, anyway.’ He looks right at me. He wants to change the subject, I can tell. I glance at Kat and Ellie, and again I see the two of us. Me and Daisy.

You’re not wearing that, are you? It makes you look like a slag.

Well, isn’t that the idea?

‘You okay?’

I blink the image clear. Bryan puts his hand on my arm.

‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘It’s just … a couple of people have told me they don’t think Daisy killed herself.’

‘Who?’

‘Zoe’s parents, for one.’

‘Well, what happened to Zoe hit them hard. I wouldn’t take that much notice.’ He smiles sadly. ‘Of course she killed herself. People just … they feel guilty, I suppose. She was so young …’