The Child Who

from Mum. Hiding things from me.’

‘Hiding things?’ Leo thought of the notes. ‘I don’t know what you’re…’ But: the article; the Gazette. ‘I wasn’t hiding things. I was just… I forgot to mention it, that’s all. It didn’t seem important.’

His daughter looked doubtful.

‘You were telling me about Sophie,’ Leo said.

Ellie dropped her chin. ‘There’s nothing to tell. She hates me, just like everyone else.’

‘Ellie. Really. Why would she hate you? You’re best friends. Aren’t you? I thought you two were inseparable.’

‘Not any more. Just this week, it’s… Something’s changed. It’s like she doesn’t want to talk to me, not if anyone else is around.’

‘Maybe she’s… I don’t know. Maybe there’s some simple reason…’

‘It’s not just her, Dad. It’s everyone. Even the teachers treat me like an outcast.’

‘The teachers? Come on now, Ellie, don’t be ridiculous.’

‘I’m not being ridiculous!’

‘No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’

‘You don’t know! How could you know? You’re not there! You’re always at work. With him.’

Leo felt his jaw tighten. ‘You’ve been talking to your mother,’ he said. ‘If you have questions about my work, Ellie, you should really come and speak to me.’

‘Why?’ she countered. ‘What would you say? What could I say that would make things any different? Ever since Grandad died you never seem to notice what any of the rest of us are feeling. You don’t seem to care!’

She had. She had been talking to Megan. It was the only explanation as to why they kept accusing him of the same failings.

‘I’ll go to your school again. I’ll talk to the head. If you feel like you’re being victimised then it’s important that someone—’

‘No! Don’t! Please, Dad, don’t!’

Leo sensed his exasperation showing. ‘Look, Ellie. If you feel like the teachers are being unfair somehow, I don’t see what other option—’

‘Dad! Don’t! I mean it! Please!’

‘What then?’ Leo spread his arms. ‘What else do you want me to do? I can’t just… It’s not like I don’t have other things to…’ He shook his head and gripped his forehead.

‘I want it to be over.’

Leo looked up. There were no tears now in his daughter’s eyes, though the burn on her cheeks endured.

‘The case. You and Mum. Sophie ignoring me, people hating me. That man taking pictures of me at the beach. I just want it all to be over.’

‘It’s not that simple, Ellie.’

‘You asked me. You said, what else could you do? I’m telling you.’

‘Yes. I know. But…’ The plea. The trial. Leo had avoided telling his family about Daniel’s decision but it was getting to the point where he would have to.

‘So? When will it be over?’

‘It depends.’

‘On whether there’s a trial.’

‘Right. Exactly. On whether there’s a trial.’

‘Do you think there will be?’

‘That’s not up to me. That’s up to Dan…’ Leo, for some reason, stopped himself saying Daniel’s name. ‘That’s up to my client. As a solicitor, I can only do as I’m instructed. It would be unprofessional of me to try to influence his decision either way.’ Which seemed an odd thing for him to say – now, here, in the circumstances. But at least it was out there. He would not, he hoped, have to say it again.

‘But you must know. You must have an idea.’

‘Ellie. Really. It’s not my—’

She stopped him with a look.

‘Probably,’ he said, exhaling. ‘At the moment, the way things are looking, it seems likely that there will be a trial.’ He flinched at the sight of Ellie’s despair. ‘But until the plea is entered… I mean, technically, at this point in time, at least until the arraignment…’

‘But… How long? How long will a trial take?’

‘I… It’s difficult to say.’

‘What does that mean? Days? Weeks, even?’

Leo hesitated. Weeks, certainly. Months – years, probably – counting the appeals. ‘It might take a while, yes. But really, Ellie, there’s no need for you to worry.’

‘That’s what you said before. At the start. That’s exactly what you told me then!’

Which was not fair. He had warned her. That day in the car. He had said, things might get uncomfortable. He had used those very words. He would not remind her of that now, of course, because heaven knew how she would respond.

‘Now you’re angry.’

‘What?’ Leo said. ‘No I’m not.’

‘You are. I can tell.’

‘Ellie. Don’t. Don’t cry, please.’

‘I’m not crying,’ she said with a sniff. ‘I’m just…’

‘What? Ellie, tell me.’

‘I’m scared, Dad.’ The tears ran now and she did not try to stop them.

‘It’s all right. Ellie, darling. There’s nothing to be scared of.’ He attempted a reassuring laugh but heard, from somewhere, a voice.

How would you like it? How would your daughter?

Leo held out an arm and Ellie allowed herself to be enfolded. Through the heavy cotton of the dressing gown, her body seemed barely to have substance at all.

19

A knock. Two beats of a knuckle. As though knocking, in this house, were the way things had always been done.

Leo waited for the door to open. It did not, right away, so he ventured a come in – just as his wife slid her face into the room.

‘This was on the mat with the junk mail,’ she said, waving an envelope and then depositing it on the nearest surface. ‘And I’m ready when you are.’

Leo rolled his chair back from his desk. ‘Oh. Right.’ He checked his wrist.

‘Whenever you are,’ Megan said again. ‘There’s no great rush. School’s not out for another half an hour.’ She pressed her lips together – as close to a smile, in the past few days, as she had managed. She turned to leave.

‘Meg. Wait.’ Leo used his heels to drag himself closer to the door.

Megan stopped, turned. The smile, her expression said, had been a blip.

‘How… um. How much are you taking? I mean, my golf clubs. Should I take them out of the boot?’ Were they even in the boot?

‘There’s a case each. And Ellie will have her school things when we pick her up.’

A case. A case was a holiday, a week away.

Megan seemed to sense his optimism. ‘Mum has spares if we run out of anything. And I’ll be able to borrow