“She won’t come out of her room,” Janet Chadwick said as she sat with her husband eating tea on Saturday evening, football results on the telly. Chadwick was filling in his pools coupon, but it was soon clear that the ?230,000 jackpot was going to elude him this week, just as it had every other week.
Chadwick ate some toad-in-hole after giving it a liberal dip in the gravy. “What’s wrong with her now?”
“She won’t say. She came dashing in late this afternoon and went straight up to her room. I called to her, knocked on her door, but she wouldn’t answer.”
“Did you go in?”
“No. She has to be allowed some privacy, Stan. She’s sixteen.”
“I know. I know. But this is unusual, missing her tea like this. And it’s Saturday. Doesn’t she usually go out Saturday night?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have a word with her after tea.”
“Be careful with her, Stan. You know how on edge she seems these days.”
Chadwick touched his wife’s wrist. “I’ll be careful. I’m not really the terrible child-gobbling monster you think I am.”
Janet laughed. “I don’t think you’re a monster. She’s just at a difficult age. A father doesn’t always understand as much as a mother does.”
“I’ll tread gently, don’t worry.”
They finished their tea in silence, and while Janet went to wash the dishes, Chadwick went upstairs to try to talk to Yvonne. He tapped softly at her door but got no answer. He tapped again, a little louder, but all he heard was a muffled “Go away.” There wasn’t even any music playing. Yvonne must have had her transistor radio turned off. Another unusual sign.
Chadwick reckoned he had two choices: leave Yvonne to her own devices, or simply walk in. Janet would favor the former, laissez-faire approach, no doubt, but Chadwick was in a mood to take the bull by the horns. He’d had enough of Yvonne’s sneaking around, stopping out all night, her secrets and lies and prima-donna behavior. Now was the time to see what was at the bottom of it. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and walked in.
The outrage he expected didn’t come. The curtains were closed, the lights off, giving the room a dim, twilit appearance. It even disguised the untidy mess of clothes and magazines on the floor and bed. At first, Chadwick couldn’t see Yvonne, then he realized she was on her bed, under the eiderdown. When his eyes adjusted, he could also see that she was shaking. Concerned, he perched on the edge of the bed and said softly, “Yvonne. Yvonne, sweetheart. What’s wrong? What is it?”
She didn’t react at first, and he sat patiently waiting, remembering when she was a little girl and came to him when she had nightmares. “It’s all right,” he said, “you can tell me. I won’t be angry with you. I promise.”
Her hand snaked out from under the eiderdown and sought his. He held it. Still she said nothing, then she slowly slid the cover off her face, and he could see even in the weak light that she had been crying. She was still shaking, too.
“What is it, love?” he asked. “What’s happened.”
“It was horrible,” she said. “
Chadwick felt his neck muscles tense. “What? Has somebody done something to you?”
“He’s ruined everything.”
“What do you mean? You’d better tell me from the start, Yvonne. I want to understand, honestly I do.”
Yvonne stared at him, as if trying to come to a decision. He knew he came across as strict and straight and unbending, but he really did want to know what was upsetting her, and not with a view to punishment this time. Whatever she thought, and however difficult it was, he really did love his daughter. One by one, the terrible possibilities crowded in on him. Had she found out she was pregnant? Was that it? Like Linda Lofthouse when she was Yvonne’s age? Or had someone assaulted her?
“What is it?” he asked. “Did somebody hurt you?”
Yvonne shook her head. “Not like you think.” Then she launched herself into his arms and he could feel her tears on his neck and hear her talking into his shoulder. “I was so scared, Daddy, the things he was saying. I really thought he was going to do something terrible to me. I know he had a knife somewhere. If I hadn’t run away…” She collapsed into sobs. Chadwick digested what she had said, trying to keep his fatherly anger at bay, and gently disentangled himself. Yvonne lay back on her pillows and rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands. She looked like a little girl. Chadwick handed her the box of tissues from the dresser top.
“Start at the beginning,” he said. “Slowly.”
“I was at Brimleigh Festival, Dad. I want you to know that before I start. I’m sorry for lying.”
“I knew that.”
“But, Dad?…How?”
“Call it a father’s instinct.” Or
“I’ve been hanging around with some people. You wouldn’t like them. That’s why… why I didn’t tell you. But they’re people like me, Dad. We’re into the same music and ideas and beliefs about society and stuff. They’re different. They’re not boring, not like the kids at school. They read poetry and write and play music.”
“Students?”
“Some of them.”
“So they’re older than you?”
“What does age matter?”
“Never mind. Go on.”
Yvonne looked a little uncertain now, and Chadwick realized he would have to keep his editorial comments to a bare minimum if he hoped to get the truth from his daughter. “Everything was fine, really it was. And then…” She started trembling again, got herself under control and went on. “There’s this man called McGarrity. He’s older than the others and he acts really weird. He always scared me.”
“In what way?”
“He’s got this horrible, twisted sort of smile that makes you feel like some sort of insect, and he keeps quoting things – T. S. Eliot, the Bible, other stuff. Sometimes he just paces up and down with his knife.”
“What knife?”
“He’s got this knife, and he keeps just, you know, tapping it against his palm as he walks.”
“What kind of knife is it?”
“A flick-knife with a tortoiseshell handle.”
“Which palm does he tap it against?”
Yvonne frowned, and Chadwick realized again he would have to be careful. It could wait. “Sorry,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. Go on.”
“They say… Steve says, he’s a bit weird because he had electroshock therapy. They say he used to be a great blues harmonica player, but since the electric shocks he can’t play anymore. But I don’t know… He just seems weird to me.”
“Is this the man who bothered you?”
“Yes. I went over there this afternoon to see Steve – he’s my boyfriend – but he wasn’t in and only McGarrity was there. I wanted to go but he insisted I stay.”
“Did he force you?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say he forced me, but I was uncomfortable. I was just hoping Steve and the others would get back soon, that’s all.”
“Was he on drugs?”
Yvonne looked away and nodded.
“Okay. Go on.”
“He said some terrible things.”
“About what?”
“About the girl who was killed. About those dead people in Los Angeles. About me.”
“What did he say about you?”
Yvonne looked down. “He was rude. I don’t want to repeat it.”
