17
‘You should have called me.’
‘We did call you, Mr Curtice.’
‘I mean right away. You should have called me as soon as it happened.’
‘It was late. Gone nine. Most solicitors, in my experience, don’t like to be bothered by things they think can wait until morning. Most parents, come to that.’
Bobby held open the door and Leo passed through.
‘That’s up to them. I, on the other hand, would have appreciated being told immediately. You have my home number, don’t you? Do you need me to give it to you again?’
‘No, that’s fine, we have it. I apologise, Mr Curtice. These things happen unfortunately, much as we try to prevent them. They’re boys, after all. If there’s a way to make trouble, they’ll find it. But we’ll know for next time to inform you straight away.’
Leo broke step. ‘Next time?’
Bobby made a gesture, conceding the poor choice of words.
The bruises, it turned out, were not as bad as Leo had feared. A black eye, Bobby had told him; a cut lip. Admirably restrained terminology and yet Leo had envisaged Daniel’s eyelids swollen shut, his teeth gapped and veined with blood. In reality it was difficult, but for the discoloration, to distinguish the swelling that had been caused by a knuckle from the puffiness attributable to Daniel’s tears. Not that this made the sight of the boy any more bearable. It was not, after all, the degree of physical harm Daniel had suffered that governed how wretched the assault would have left him feeling.
And wretched, from the look of him, was the term. He was a bundle of limbs on the bed, his spine to the wall at the pillow end, his knees drawn to his chin and his arms wrapped protectively around his shins. The curtains in the room were shut but the material was pale and the day bright. Even tucked in the room’s dimmest corner, Daniel was exposed.
Leo closed the door behind him. Garrie, the security guard, had not followed him inside but recently he had tended not to. The door, however, would invariably remain open and it occurred to Leo as he entered the room that this was the first time he and Daniel had ever been properly alone: unaccompanied, unguarded, unobserved. It did not alarm him, as once it might have done. Rather, it saddened him; made him feel ashamed somehow, too.
Daniel did not speak. Leo felt the boy tracking him as he crossed from the doorway to the chair. He set down his briefcase, easing it to the floor so that it made no sound. He stood, until standing felt wrong, and then he sat. Daniel looked away, tucking his puffy eyes below the peak of his knees.
‘What kind of names?’
Daniel did not reply.
‘Pay no attention. Do you hear? It doesn’t matter what they say. It doesn’t matter what they think.’
Daniel dragged a hand across his cheek. ‘S’easy for you to say.’
The boy was on the edge of the bed, legs dangling from the mattress, bare feet protruding from his tracksuit bottoms and just about brushing the linoleum. His head hung and when he spoke he spoke to the floor.
Leo was seated but barely. He had his elbows on his knees and was leaning forwards of the edge of the chair. ‘How’s the eye?’ he said. ‘Do you want some ice or something?’
Daniel just frowned.
‘For the swelling. It’ll make it hurt less.’
‘It doesn’t hurt that much. My tummy hurts more.’
His tummy. They had hit him there too, Daniel had told Leo. The oldest boy had, while the other two had held him by the arms.
The boy shifted, winced. He wiped again at his eyes.
‘Did you speak to your parents?’ Leo asked him. ‘ To your mother? Are they coming to see you?’ He checked his watch. If they were coming then surely they would have been here by now.
‘Bobby did,’ said Daniel. ‘He said… Mum said she wasn’t feeling well. She… Sometimes she doesn’t.’
‘No. Of course. Well. She’ll come by soon, I’m sure.’
Daniel raised his head. His features were wrinkled, his cheeks streaked. ‘How much longer am I going to have to be in here?’
‘Here? What, in your room?’ Leo checked the door. ‘We can go out, if you like. I’m sure we can. Do you fancy a walk? Or we could go to the games room, see if the PlayStation’s free?’
‘Not in here. In
Leo felt his lips part. He sighed. ‘A while, Daniel.’
‘Until the rain-thingummy?’
‘The arraignment? Yes. At least until then.’
‘What about after? Will I have to come back after?’
‘That all depends. I’m sorry. It really all depends on what happens.’
‘I hate it here.’ There was a venom to the boy’s tone, a ferocity to his expression, that Leo had almost forgotten he was capable of.
‘I know. I’m doing everything I can to get you out. But, Daniel. You need to prepare yourself for the possibility that you will be here, or somewhere like it, for a very long time.’
Daniel stared at the air. Leo, watching him, might have said more. He might have said, here, this place you say you hate: it’s not so bad. Compared to the alternatives, it’s about as good as you could hope for.
But Leo did not have the heart.
‘I didn’t mean it, you know.’
Leo raised his head. They had been talking about what Daniel should wear; about his hair – which had been cropped short – and how it might be better, until the arraignment, to let it grow.
‘What didn’t you mean?’ But almost as Leo voiced the question, he realised what Daniel was referring to.
‘The girl.’ Daniel was staring at his thumbnail, worrying at the flesh around it with the nails on his other hand. ‘I didn’t mean it.’
Leo swallowed. He folded his own hands together and felt a tension build in his grip. This, the murder itself: it was not something Daniel spoke about. Not willingly. Every detail Leo had so far managed to procure from the boy had been prised from him, and he had so far volunteered no insight beyond those Leo had gleaned long ago from reading the police reports. When Daniel talked about what had happened, it was as though he were describing a scene from a movie. His detachment was such that Leo might have wondered, had he not known better, whether the boy had been there at all.
‘What do you mean, Daniel?’
Daniel switched his attention to his other thumb. ‘I wanted to talk to her. That’s all.’ He seemed to ponder this for a while, to the point Leo felt an urge to offer another prompt. But, ‘She was scared of me. Even before I’d said anything.’
‘Why do you think she was scared of you?’ Beyond talking, Leo kept as still as he could.
‘I… I dunno. Probably cos I’m, like… you know. Ugly. Or… I dunno.’ Still the boy stared at his hands. ‘I asked her to kiss me. Just cos I knew she wouldn’t.’ He glanced but failed to hold Leo’s eye. ‘I was only joking. I wasn’t going to make her. But she – ’ again Daniel looked puzzled ‘ – she made this face. Like… Just this face.’
‘Go on.’
Daniel dropped his chin. ‘She walked away. She was laughing, like she wasn’t scared any more, and I… I dunno. I liked it better when she was.’
Daniel’s hands stopped writhing. He clasped them together, aligning the knuckles of his thumbs.
‘She walked away,’ Leo said and the boy nodded.
