The Party Page 6
‘I’ll be fine. I know you’re busy.’ Too busy. The words hang in the thick silence between us. It’s the first proper working day back after the Christmas holidays and I know that Gareth is itching to get back to the office. In a way, I’m happy that he’s going for the day. I can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t quite believe my story about what happened at the party; something about the way he looked at me when he told me Carrie said I had probably destroyed all the evidence. Almost as though he thought I’d done it on purpose. It’s hard enough trying to process it all, without feeling as though I have to convince him to believe me.
‘If you need me I can come home. You know that.’ I nod as he crosses the small gap between us, pulling me close for a quick hug before he lets me go again. ‘Or I can stay – if you want me to, I’ll cancel the meetings.’ He pulls the laptop bag over his shoulder and reaches for his travel mug of coffee, saying the words, but not really meaning them.
I shake my head, playing my part to perfection. ‘It’s fine, honestly. I’m sure Robbie will be home before too long, and I have Carrie’s number.’ Not that I’ll call her. ‘I’ll take the dog out for some fresh air and then maybe I’ll … I don’t know. I’ll find something to do.’ I force out a smile, shooing him towards the door and he scurries off down the drive, giving me a brief wave as he reverses the car out and heads towards West Marsham.
I sit at the kitchen table, hugging my mug of tea for warmth. I don’t seem to have been able to get warm since I woke up in that stifling, stuffy room in Liz’s house, the morning after the party. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back and try my hardest to remember something, anything, about that night. I’m tired of not knowing what happened, tired of the fear that hovers every time I try to fill in the blanks. Music.That’s something that floats into my mind as I try and think – I remember as we walked in there was Christmas music playing, something old, maybe from the 80s, playing loudly, the bass line thudding in my chest. I remember Gareth rolling his eyes, laughing at me, as I started to dance my way into the house, grabbing at his hand to pull him along behind me. I still thought that I could jolly him into having a good time, that once he’d had a beer or two he’d loosen up and start enjoying himself. Did he, though? I can’t remember. Liz said she didn’t think we argued, but who knows? I should maybe start to think about talking to some of the others at the party, maybe they would know?
The shrill ring of the doorbell startles me, and I jump, slopping cold tea down the front of my dressing gown. Shit. I dab at it pathetically as the doorbell rings again, before giving in and getting to my feet.
‘Rachel. Hi. How are you doing?’ I open the front door to find Carrie on the doorstep. True to her word she is here, just as she said she would be. She looks me up and down quickly, as if she’s trying to assess me without me noticing. I notice.
‘I thought you would have called first. I’ve just got up.’ I feel as though I have to justify why it’s nearly ten o’clock in the morning and I’m still in a scruffy dressing gown.
‘I’m sorry, I was passing and I thought I’d pop in now, instead of having to drop back later. Is it OK to come in?’ She already has one foot on the threshold so I pull the door fully open to allow her to come in. She moves aside to let me lead the way and I take her through to the living room, aware that I haven’t tidied the kitchen after last night’s dinner.
‘Here,’ I gesture towards the couch for her to take a seat. ‘Would you like tea?’
‘No, thank you.’ Carrie sits, and digs in her bag for her notebook and pen. ‘I’m going to be your dedicated officer, Rachel. That means that I’ll be the one keeping you informed of everything that takes place during our investigation. I know you gave us a statement yesterday, but do you think I could ask you a couple more questions?’
‘Yes, of course.’ I draw in a shaky breath. ‘Sorry. It’s difficult to keep talking about it, you know?’ Picking at the threads on my dressing gown, my stomach flips with nerves at the thought of having to talk it all through again.
‘I know, I do understand and I’m sorry that I need to ask you more. I just want to check and make sure that you haven’t remembered anything else, anything that might be significant.’ I shake my head, fighting back the wave of frustration that rises up in me at the thought of the black hole in my memory.
‘Just that there was music. There was music playing really loudly when we walked in. That’s it, there’s nothing else. What have you done so far?’ The question blurts out before I think. ‘I mean … how are you investigating this? What are you doing to find out who did this to me?’ The words tumble out and I raise my hand to my mouth to try to stop them. ‘Sorry, I’m sorry … I just …’
Carrie leans forward and lays her hand on mine, squeezing in some gesture of reassurance.
‘Rachel, I promise we’re doing everything we can to get as much information as possible. We’ve spoken to the party host and asked for a complete list of guests. We’ll be talking to every guest individually, asking them questions to see what they can tell us. Sometimes people see things that they don’t even realize are relevant. Any information can be useful.’
‘OK,’ I nod, already feeling a little calmer, now I know that even if Gareth doesn’t necessarily believe me, Carrie does. ‘And you’ll speak to everybody that is on the list?’
‘Of course, we will.’ Carrie makes a point of writing in her notebook, almost as if to prove to me that she’ll do what she says she will. ‘Once we have the results of your medical examination I’ll be able to give you more information, but the truth is …’ Carrie breaks off for a moment and I feel a swell of horror, as I know what she’s going to say. She swallows hard, as if finding it difficult to speak. ‘The fact that you had a bath won’t have helped … it might make it difficult for us to pick up any DNA.’
‘I had to! I had to have a bath … I felt …’ the words stick in my throat,‘I felt filthy. And anyway … I didn’t know, not at first. I thought … I don’t know what I thought; I just didn’t think it was that. Everything was so … confused, blurry. Things like that don’t happen to people like me.’ I break off, the words unable to force their way out past the lump in my throat.
‘I do understand, Rachel, I promise, and we will do as much as we possibly can to find whoever did this.’ Carrie’s voice is gentle and I take a deep breath, knowing that I need to trust her to get this right, if I’m going to find out who did this to me. ‘Have you still got the clothes you wore that night?’
‘They’re in the laundry basket, upstairs in the main bathroom. Gareth uses the one in the en-suite so there shouldn’t be any other laundry in there. Do you want me to show you?’
Carrie shakes her head. ‘Would you mind going upstairs to fetch them for me? I’ll wait down here, shall I … maybe put the kettle on? No need to show me through, I’ll find everything.’ She heads out into the hallway and turns right towards the kitchen. I pause at the foot of the stairs, one foot on the bottom step, and I hear the sounds of running water as she fills the kettle, followed by the clink of the mugs. Taking a deep breath, I head up the stairs to the bathroom and yank open the lid of the laundry hamper. I pull the clothes out, holding them gingerly between finger and thumb, just the sight of them enough to make my heart thump harder in my chest. I am back in the kitchen before the kettle even has a chance to boil, and I lay the clothes on the edge of the table.
‘OK?’ Carrie looks at me with a concerned smile, a paper bag in one hand. I nod. ‘I’m just going to pop these in this bag, and I’ll have a quick look and make sure we have everything, all right?’ I nod again, and clear my throat.
‘Yes. OK.’
‘Right, so I’ve got a pair of black wet-look leggings, a black off the shoulder top and a strapless black bra.’ She pokes into the bag with the end of a biro. ‘There’s no underwear in there though, Rachel?’
‘No.’ The kettle flicks off and I use it as an excuse to turn away from her as I take over the tea-making, pour
ing the water into the two cups she has set out. ‘I couldn’t find it. I mean, when I woke up I was looking for my clothes. I was only wearing my bra and top, my bottom half was naked. I found my leggings scrunched up on the floor with my sandals but I couldn’t find my knickers.’ Hot shame floods my cheeks staining them red, and I pull the dressing gown away from my neck in an attempt to cool down.
‘Right, OK.’ Carrie frowns but doesn’t get a chance to say any more as the back door crashes open, and Robbie appears, letting in the cold morning air.
‘Hi, Mum,’ he steps in, sliding his feet out of his muddy trainers. His hair is ruffled and his cheeks are flushed red with the cold. He looks as though he’s been playing football, or running, there is a healthy air about him. ‘Who’s this?’ His eyes flick interestedly over Carrie’s figure.
‘I should go,’ she says, picking up the paper bag. ‘I have everything I need for the minute; I’ll be in touch, Rachel, OK? I’ll see myself out.’ I nod, wordlessly and she hurries out to the front door. I hear it slam closed, and then the sound of a car starting up.
‘Mum? Who was that?’ Robbie peers out towards the front window, watching as Carrie’s car heads off towards Kingsnorth.
‘Errm … that was Carrie,’ I falter, not sure what to say or how to phrase it. ‘She’s a …’
‘Mum, you won’t believe what happened,’ Robbie cuts in, ‘at Liz’s party. Some bad shit went down. The police came by Sean’s and spoke to us. They wanted to speak to Ted but he’s away at the moment – some sales conference thing. They were asking if we went to the party – apparently a woman got attacked there, that’s what they’re saying.’ He opens the fridge door and leans in, looking for something to eat. He closes the door, sausage roll in his hand and takes in my face.
‘Mum?’
I am frozen, mug clenched tightly in my fist as I battle to find the right words to say to my son. I know I have to tell him, but this is possibly the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say to my child.
‘That was Carrie. She’s a police officer … a sexual offence liaison officer.’ Tears spill down my cheeks as I watch Robbie’s face change, comprehension dawning slowly, and I almost feel my heart break at the realization that I couldn’t protect him from this. ‘She came to take my clothes away … the ones I wore to the party … for forensic examination.’
‘Forensic examination?’ He sucks in a breath as it hits him, what I am saying. ‘It was you? The woman they were talking about … the one who was raped? It was you?’
It takes me a while to calm Robbie down as he paces the kitchen floor, alternately shouting that he’ll kill whoever did this, to asking me questions on repeat, unable to comprehend the idea that I have literally no memory of that night. Finally, he calms down and I manage to talk to him sensibly.
‘What did you tell the police?’ I ask him, as he finally takes a seat at the kitchen table.
‘Nothing.’ His gaze slides away from mine and I get the sense that he’s hiding something, he looks much like he did when he was little and he didn’t want to confess to some tiny misdemeanour. ‘Just that Sean and I were at his house all evening, which we were.’ He looks a bit shifty round the eyes and I deduce that probably wasn’t the entire truth. I don’t doubt that he spent the evening with Sean, but they probably had a sneaky cider in the park, or a joint at worst, and he doesn’t want to ’fess up to it. In light of what has happened Robbie sneaking a cider or having a smoke is the least of my worries.
‘Did they ask you about anyone else at the party?’ I am burning to know who else might have been there – who else might have seen something, anything that could fill in the gaps in my memory.
‘Just about Ted. They knew Angela didn’t go, but they wanted to know if Ted went. Obviously, they can’t speak to him yet as he left for that convention thing this morning.’
‘Right. Did Ted go to the party?’
Robbie frowns at me, finally realizing that I’m not exaggerating, I really don’t remember.
‘Yeah. Well, he said he was going, and he wasn’t at their house all evening so he must have gone.’
‘Of course.’ I give him a small smile and squeeze his hand. ‘I’m fine, Rob, OK? I know this is easier said than done but please try not to worry about things. The police will find him and it’ll all be sorted.’ He nods, before pushing back his chair and putting his arms around me.
‘I love you, Mum. Are you sure you’re going to be OK?’ he asks, and I manage to hide the tears that spring to my eyes, as he’s so much taller than me.
‘Love you too, Robster.’ His childhood nickname slips out without thinking. ‘I’m fine, I promise.’ He kisses me on the head, and I sink into his vacated chair, swallowing hard to hide the bitter taste of lies on my tongue, the lies that say, yes, I’m OK.
Later on, I text Amy, asking her to meet me outside the gates to the park. I need to walk Thor, but on top of that I need to get out of here, to clear my head. I bundle up warm, pulling a hat low down over my forehead, in the hope that if I do meet anyone who attended the party they don’t realize that it’s me. I get to the front door, Thor straining at the lead, and panic threatens. I don’t know if I can do this. What if he’s out there, just waiting to get me on my own? I force the thought away, desperate for fresh air and someone to talk to, pushing my feet over the threshold and down the path. My nerves jangle the entire way to the park, and I find myself peering out from under my hat at people as they pass by. Were they there? Do they know anything? What about that guy over there – was he somehow involved? By the time I reach the park gates, Amy is waiting, hopping from foot to foot in an attempt to keep warm, and I am a nervous wreck.
‘Hey,’ Amy leans in to kiss me on the cheek, the damp, misty drizzle that hangs in the air leaving droplets in her hair. ‘Are you OK? Did you hear about what happened at the party? Did the police speak to you yet?’ I realize that in the whirlwind that has been the past two days, not only did I not tell Robbie about it, I also haven’t told Amy. You can do this, Rachel. I suck in a deep breath, wrapping Thor’s lead so tightly around my hand that it hurts.
‘It was me, Amy. I’m the woman.’
‘What?’ Amy’s hand flies to her mouth in horror, before she pulls me towards her in a tight embrace. ‘Oh my god, oh my god,’ she whispers over and over as her arms wrap tightly around me, so tight I can barely breathe. ‘Fuck, Rachel, are you OK?’ She draws back, holding me by the shoulders so she can look at me properly. ‘Scrap that, you can’t be OK. Shit. I don’t know what to say?’ Her eyes fill with tears and I lead her over to an empty bench, tucked away at the end of the path, where no one will disturb us.
‘I’m OK,’ I reassure her, lying again. I’m good at that now, you get that way once you’ve had plenty of practice.
‘What happened?’ Mascara leaves a black stain under her eyes and I hand her a tissue to wipe at it.
‘I don’t know, that’s just it. I woke up and I knew, I just knew something had happened. You know, you can tell?’ Amy nods, but doesn’t speak, her fingers shredding the soggy tissue into tiny pieces. ‘But I can’t remember a thing past coming in to the party. I guess the police came and spoke to you?’
Amy nods again and leans down to stroke Thor, where he bumps his head gently against her legs.
‘They came late yesterday evening. They said there had been a report of a serious assault on a woman at the party and did I see anything. Obviously, I told them no, because I didn’t. I mean, I didn’t even see you after a certain point in the evening, but I’d been drinking too so I couldn’t even tell them much about that. Oh God … I didn’t see you – does that mean?’Amy covers her mouth again and I shake my head.
‘I don’t know. I don’t know what that means, Amy. But it’s not your fault, OK? That you can’t remember seeing me – you didn’t know.’
‘But maybe if I’d paid more attention …’ Exactly my thoughts. Maybe if I had paid more attention that night then it would never have happened.
‘I can try.’ Amy gets to her feet. ‘Let’s walk while we talk.’ She casts a glance over her shoulder towards the park gates, frowning slightly, but when I look there is no one there. ‘There was us, and Gareth, obviously. Ted.’ She raises her eyebrows.
‘It’s OK; I know he was there. Robbie mentioned it.’ Amy looks at me quizzically, but I motion for her to go on.
‘Liz and Neil, obviously. Oh God, Rach, I don’t know – there were loads of people there! It was like Liz had invited the whole village. I know there were a few people from the gym … but there were tons of people I didn’t recognize; every room was heaving with bodies.’ She puffs out a long breath as she thinks. ‘Katie and Brett – they came a little later on in the evening, I think, I don’t remember them being there at the start. Melody and Jonno definitely came late, as usual, they turned up right before Gareth left.’
‘Was Gareth OK when he left?’ I ask, still uncertain if we argued that night.
‘Yeah, I think so. Who can tell with Gareth?’ She gives a little half-laugh, conscious that while he might be an arsehole sometimes, Gareth is still my husband. ‘I can’t remember who else, I’m sorry, there were just too many people milling around. I drank too much and it’s all a bit of a blur if I’m honest.’
I thank her, and once we’ve taken Thor on a lap round the park I kiss her goodbye.
‘Just call me if you need me, even if it’s the middle of the night.’ She frowns, her eyebrows meeting a sharp V under her hat. ‘Are you sure you’ll be OK?’
My mind on other things, I nod and smile and pulling my hat down further over my forehead, I prepare to face the walk along the main road back towards my house.