The Silent Witness: Part 2 of 3. Casey Watson

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СКАЧАТЬ was driving all this misery was that Bella knew exactly what she had witnessed that day. And her mother knew exactly what she’d done that day, too. What was the saying? That the devil was in the detail? Well, the devil here was the business of trying to decide if she’d been pushed beyond reason by the man she’d attacked. That the attack really was self-defence.

      But the truth was that I should be optimistic with Bella. There would come a point in the future when things would get better. That was how life generally panned out. She might have a stormy sea to navigate before that, but, one day, her life would be better than it was now, wherever these events meant life ended up taking her.

      ‘But how?’ Bella cried, sobbing louder than ever. ‘How will anything ever be the same again? Why did Mum have to tell them what she did?’

      ‘Because it was the right thing to do, love,’ I said. ‘It’s always right to tell the truth, whatever the consequences you have to face. She’d have been in more trouble if she’d have lied about it, wouldn’t she?’

      Bella took this in, and it occurred to me that now might be the time to ask her the question I wanted to ask about social media, but she surprised me by pulling away from me and flinging herself face down onto the bed, her little fists pummelling the duvet at either side of her.

      I had clearly hit a nerve. I rubbed her back and, after a time, she stopped shaking and rolled onto her side. She pulled her legs up, and I took her ankles and rested them in my lap.

      ‘Casey,’ she said quietly, ‘is it ever right to tell lies?’

      ‘That’s a hard one to answer,’ I told her, ears pricked with anticipation, running with wherever she was about to take me. ‘But, off the top of my head, I’d say there will be the odd occasion where it’s the right thing to do. A white lie, for instance, to cheer someone up, or not to upset them. I remember Riley once coming back from the hairdressers having had all her hair cut off, and she hated it, and regretted it bitterly, and cried and cried and cried, and I told her she looked lovely every day for days and days, even though I hated it too. Because there was nothing she could do, was there? They couldn’t stick it back on. And then, well, it grew a bit and we both got used to it.’

      Bella slipped her hands under her cheek. ‘But a big lie?’

      ‘Have you told a big lie, then, Bella? Is that it?’ I stroked her back again. ‘Something you want to tell me about?’

      She chewed her bottom lip for a long time before speaking. Was she about to recount what she’d witnessed at long last? The silence stretched. ‘Because you can, you know,’ I added eventually. ‘If you want to. If you think it’ll help.’

      She shook her head then, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. Did I ask her if the headshake was because she hadn’t told a lie, or if she had but had opted not to share it?

      ‘It’s okay, love,’ I said, conscious that to press her would be inappropriate. I must never lead. Only listen. That particular fostering edict was, rightly, set in stone. Instead, I returned to the currently pressing matter of our address being known.

      ‘Sweetheart, listen,’ I said, after she’d stared into the middle distance for so long that it was almost as if she’d forgotten I was there. (If this had been a moment, then it had, for the moment, passed.)

      She turned her gaze back on me. ‘Have you been chatting to friends on Facebook?’ I asked.

      Her answering nod was instant. Something else that had been weighing heavily?

      Another pause, then: ‘You know last week, when you came up and asked me how the geography project I was researching was going? I hadn’t been doing it. I’d been on Facebook, even though I knew I wasn’t allowed to.’ I remained silent. ‘I just so wanted to speak to my best friend,’ she finished.

      Her best friend. She’d been almost a month with us now and this had finally been acknowledged.

      ‘What’s her name?’ I asked.

      ‘Ruby.’

      ‘Ruby and Bella,’ I said. ‘Two lovely names together. You must miss seeing her. And her you. Have you been friends a long time or did you meet at high school?’

      ‘Since I was eight,’ she said. ‘When she came to my primary school. She doesn’t go to my high school. I wish she did.’ Bella’s chin wobbled. ‘She hates her new school. I miss us going to the library together. That’s what we did lots, at the weekends. Everyone calls us both geeks.’

      ‘Well they’re idiots,’ I said firmly. ‘And what utter nonsense. Don’t they realise? Libraries are one of the cornerstones of a civilised society. I read that somewhere,’ I added. ‘Probably in a library book, come to think about it …’

      This elicited a ghost of a smile. I decided to seize this new moment. All these moments were still steps on the longer journey, after all. ‘Listen, sweetheart,’ I said. ‘I’m not cross about Facebook. You know you did wrong, and that’s good enough for me. And you know, as long as you don’t put our address on it – same as with your mum – you can write a letter to Ruby, too – every day, if you like. And she can write back to you, care of social services. But listen, love, might you have accidentally told Ruby where you’re staying? You know, have you told her our address?’

      She lay still for a moment, then screwed up her eyes. ‘I did …’ she said, finally. ‘Oh, God, I’m sorry, Casey. I did. We were just chatting …’

      ‘What, in a private message?’ I asked hopefully.

      She frowned. ‘No, on her timeline, under a comment. Just under a comment to each other, not on the main thread, to everyone … so it’s not like people would see it automatically or anything … but … oh, I’m such an idiot.’

      She might as well have been speaking to me in Finnish. ‘But her friends could still see it …’

      ‘Yes, but not properly. Not without clicking on the “replies” button. Oh, God, I’m so sorry. She was just asking how far away I was.’ She heaved herself back up to a sitting position. ‘And I only said your road … not your number – I didn’t even remember the number, so I wouldn’t have done. It was only because her auntie lives round here, that’s all … and she thought she might know it …’ She wiped her eyes against the backs of her hands. ‘Why? Does it matter? I can delete it all. I can do that straight away. I’m so sorry. I thought you’d be cross because I was looking at all the horrible things people have been saying … I didn’t think it was –’

      ‘Have they?’

      She nodded miserably. ‘About my mum. And my dad, too. But mostly my mum. I hate them. They don’t know anything!’

      Antennae all a-twitch now, I reached out to comfort her. ‘Hey, hey,’ I said, drawing her to me again. ‘Let’s not even given them a second thought. You’re quite right. What do they know? Nothing. About anything. Which is exactly why they are best ignored.’

      And because I could sense we had arrived at a new level of openness, I decided to back-track a little, for fear of saying something that might slam the door shut again.

      ‘Listen,’ I said again. ‘Let’s just sort out what we can. You know, you putting where you’re staying СКАЧАТЬ