Skin Deep (28 page)

The shorter of the detectives nodded. ‘That’s right. If he wasn’t involved then there’s no need to be concerned. Just part of the investigation. If you can come along now, we’ll give you a lift back when it’s done.’

How much of my DNA could Carlisle have had on him from that fight? But if I didn’t say yes then they’d suspect me. I tried to glance at Mum for help when they weren’t looking, desperate for her to know what to do because I didn’t have a clue.

They sat us in the back of the police car. I’d have felt sorry for them if I hadn’t been busy trying to stop shaking – Mum looked ferocious and was attempting to bore holes in the back of their heads with her eyes. She gripped my hand tightly while I stared out of the window.

They took us to a room at the station and left us there. A woman came in and babbled on at us like she was reading from a script . . . something about fingerprints and how long they kept the DNA on record and did I consent. All I could think was just shut up and do it and let me out of here. My heart banged faster, my skin flamed, and every nerve told every muscle in my body to get up and run.

Mum glared laser blasts of hate at the woman. ‘He’s only doing this, you fascist bitch, because he wants to. If it was up to me, you wouldn’t get anything –’

‘Mum, don’t. Leave it, please. I want to get this over with.’

The woman inked my fingers and took my prints while Mum ranted at her. ‘I know what you’re doing here. Trying to soften him up by sending a female officer in. Well, it won’t work on me. You should be ashamed –’

‘Mum, drop it.’

The woman asked me to open my mouth to take the swab and she stuck something like a giant cotton bud in there. I felt her scrape it against my cheek.

‘You wouldn’t be doing this if we weren’t travellers,’ Mum muttered. ‘You lot love to persecute us. Find a minority to pick on and you’re right in there.’

I gave up trying to get her to stop. At least she wasn’t shouting now.

The woman stepped back. ‘Thank you. That’s me finished. You can go now.’

Mum grabbed my hand and dragged me out, slamming the door behind us. The policemen who’d picked us up materialised as we came out. ‘Go to hell!’ Mum snapped, but she shoved me into the patrol car all the same when they offered us a lift back.

As soon as we were home, I reached for my phone. There was only one person I wanted to see now. Someone who wouldn’t rant and rage all night. Someone who would just be there for me when I needed her.

Ryan didn’t text me until quite late that night
.
It was nearly eight o’clock when I finally got a message saying he’d been held up and was it too late to come round. He was at the door in fifteen minutes.

Straight away, I knew something was wrong. He was pale and jumpy, his fingers drumming on the tablecloth as Mum made him a cup of tea.

‘Your hair looks nice,’ he said softly. ‘It suits you.’ I was pleased he’d noticed, especially as he was in such an odd mood.

‘If you two want to watch some TV, go through,’ Mum said. ‘Charlie’s upstairs doing his homework and Dad’s helping him. I’ll be busy in here for a while.’

Sometimes my mum was the best.

But even on our own, Ryan was quiet. I shut the door and snuggled next to him on the sofa. ‘You’re not annoyed with me for dragging you here yesterday to meet Dad, are you?’

He came back from wherever he’d been with a jump. ‘No, don’t be dumb. Did he give you a hard time when I’d gone?’

‘Um, not too bad. It’s not personal – he’d be like that whoever it was. He doesn’t even like me talking about Beth and Max. He forgets we’re out of primary school.’

Ryan didn’t laugh or make a joke. That worried me.

‘He’s cheered up a lot since he got the news about the DNA test. The feeling of being suspected – it really got to him.’

He didn’t answer.

‘What’s up?’

‘Bad day. Just knackered.’

‘Oh. Do you want to go soon then?’

‘Do you want me to go?’

‘No, of course not. But do you?’

He slumped further down the sofa, pulling me with him. ‘Nah, I just feel like watching some TV with you.’

‘OK.’ I smiled and gave him the remote control. ‘You choose.’

But the sense of unease wouldn’t go away.

The atmosphere in the area was totally different since the murder. You couldn’t miss the posters with appeals for information in Strenton and Whitmere. They were strapped to lamp posts, propped on boards by the road, in shop windows.

Pete and Bill had been talking about it at work.

‘What’s your nephew said?’ Pete asked.

Bill shrugged. ‘He’s not allowed to say much, but they’ve got no one for it so they’ll step it up now the forensics are back. They’ll be all over that village until they get their man, I reckon.’

‘Like flies around shit,’ Mum said sourly when I told her. She was still livid about me being taken to the station. And I still felt sick over it, not that they’d treated me badly because they hadn’t. But I had no idea what those tests would show up and every time I thought about it, panic set in. I kept trying to squash that down, but it wouldn’t go away.

I couldn’t tell Jenna. Not after she’d been through the weeks of waiting with her dad. She thought me being moody was down to Mum’s illness and I let her think it. I couldn’t dump more on her.

And Mum . . . well, the high was fading. She had clouded eyes like someone had died. When she went to bed early on Tuesday night, I told her I loved her.

‘You don’t,’ she said and she walked off without looking at me.

‘Dinner’s in the oven,’ Mum called
.
‘When’s Ryan coming round?’

I walked through to the kitchen. ‘About ten minutes.’

‘I don’t know how long we’ll be. It depends on the queues. Some of those parents talk for hours, no consideration.’ She grinned at me. ‘Still, I don’t suppose you’ll mind.’

No, I definitely wouldn’t.

Charlie slouched in behind me. ‘Do I have to go? It’s not compulsory.’

Dad followed him, with Charlie’s coat in his hand. ‘It’s your Parents’ Evening. You need to hear what your teachers have to say. Is it going to be disappointing?’

My brother stuck his lip out and shrugged. I nudged him and snuck him a sympathy biscuit from the jar.

Raggs ran past us barking and bouncing before we heard the knock on the back door. His tail flailed wildly.

Mum laughed. ‘I think Ryan’s here.’

Ryan was quiet again. I talked determinedly while we ate, hoping to cheer him up, but he seemed content to listen and not contribute much. ‘Great chicken,’ was all I got out of him unprompted.

‘Come upstairs. I want to show you something,’ I said once I’d cleared the plates.

When we got to my room, he looked around with an interest more like his usual self. ‘Nice room,’ he said, touching the cream wallpaper. ‘I thought girls had hundreds of teddies in their bedrooms.’

I picked up Barney, my scruffy black bear, and hugged him to my chest. ‘No, just the one. He’s too special to have rivals. I’ve had him since I was born.’

Ryan shook his head. ‘That’s wasted on him. Give it to someone who’ll appreciate it.’

I laughed and put Barney back on the chair. ‘Come here then.’

He folded his arms round me, but I couldn’t help feeling I was hugging him more than the other way round.

‘I suppose if you don’t cheat on the bear, you might not cheat on me either,’ he said out of the blue.

‘Of course I won’t. What is wrong with you?’

‘Nothing. It was supposed to be a joke. It didn’t come out right. What did you want to show me? No, don’t go . . .’ He hung on to me tighter. ‘Tell me.’

‘It can wait.’ Karen must still be bad. It must be awful being a boy sometimes. If I was down and I wanted a cuddle, it was OK for me to ask. Boys didn’t find that so easy. He had to be the grown-up at home when she ill and he wasn’t really that much older than me. If he wanted some TLC when he got the chance, I could understand that.

After a few minutes, he let me go. ‘Go on, what is it?’

I pushed him to the bed. ‘Sit down.’ I rummaged in the back of the wardrobe. ‘I’ve never shown this to anyone since . . .’

He patted the bed when I emerged with a box. ‘Come on.’

I sat next to him and took out the hated plastic mask. ‘I don’t know what to do with it. I couldn’t burn it because Mum said it might give off toxic fumes. I can’t throw it in the bin because it’ll never rot away and I can’t stand to think of it on a waste dump where someone might see it. I want it destroyed so there’s nothing left, but I don’t know how.’

He took the mask from me and turned it in his hands. ‘You had to wear this for six months?’

‘Yes, twenty-three hours a day. I could take it off to wash and that was about it. It drove me crazy. It was hot and uncomfortable, it dug in and it made me look like a freak. It made me feel inhuman. I wouldn’t go anywhere, and that’s when Mum and Dad got me Raggs, to encourage me to go out. I’d take him to the paddock to throw his ball, but nowhere else. It took two months for me to get that far.’ I closed my eyes briefly at the memory. ‘I’m crap, aren’t I?’

He shook his head and held the mask up to my face. ‘Show me.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘It’s still you underneath.’ He fitted the mask carefully against my face. I didn’t pull away, but I didn’t help him either.

He leaned back and took a long look, then he smiled. ‘It’s just a mask. Something to make you better, nothing more. It’s good you don’t need to wear it now though.’

I nodded and pulled away.

He shook his head. ‘You think I said that because it puts me off. You’re so dumb sometimes.’

‘Oh, thanks!’

He grabbed my face in his hands. ‘I said it because it’d get in the way when I want to kiss you.’ He tipped me suddenly back on to the bed. I squeaked as his elbow dug in my arm. ‘Shit, sorry, did I hurt you?’

‘Yes, kiss it better.’

He brushed his lips across my mouth. ‘Stupid bear can’t do this, can it?’

I suppose we forgot the time, lying on my bed kissing, and stopping to look at each other, then kissing some more. He stroked my face and I traced my finger along his eyebrows. I’d always wanted to do that. They fascinated me – thick and straight on the top with only the faintest of arches. Now winter was here, his tan had faded and the blond lights in his hair were darkening back to the colour beneath. He caught my fingertips and kissed them and smiled.

Crash!

My bedroom door rebounded off the wall.

I jerked up.

Dad stood in the doorway.

‘You, out!’ he shouted at Ryan, his hands clenched white.

‘Dad!’

‘Get out before I throw you out!’

‘It was my fault, not hers,’ Ryan said, on his way to the door while I screamed at my father. ‘Don’t be mad at her. It was me.’

‘Oh, I’m bloody sure it was. Now get out of my house.’

‘Sorry,’ he said to Dad, and then to me, ‘Sorry.’

I heard Mum’s voice on the stairs. ‘What on earth is going on?’ And then Ryan’s feet on the stairs going down.

Dad slammed the door on me and I ran after him to wrench it open.

Mum was on the other side about to come in. I all but cannoned into her.

‘Has he gone?’

‘Yes. Jenna, what were you thinking of? You know you’re not allowed to have a boy up in your bedroom.’

‘You never said that.’

‘I didn’t think I needed to!’

‘We weren’t doing anything. Dad just assumed. But we weren’t.’

She sighed. ‘Well, good luck convincing him of that. I think you’d better let him cool down before you try. Really, how can you expect us to trust you when you go and do this?’

‘But we weren’t doing anything!’

‘Stop shouting. That’s not going to improve your father’s mood.’ She came in and sat down on my bed. ‘Honestly, the time I’ve spent talking him round, telling him to give you a chance and that you’re ready to behave responsibly. And now I wonder if I’m the one who was taken in all along.’

‘Oh, shut up, Mum! I told you, nothing happened. Ryan’s down because his mum’s ill and –’

‘His mum’s ill? What’s wrong with her?’

‘She has this thing called bipolar and –’ I broke off as her eyes widened in alarm. ‘What?’

‘Jenna, perhaps . . . well, I hate to say it because it’s not the poor woman’s fault . . . but I’m not sure I want you going round there if she is . . . unwell. People with that condition, well, they can be dangerous. I know it’s an extreme case, but not so long ago I read an article in the paper where someone with that problem had stopped taking their medication, gone on the rampage and killed four people in a shopping centre –’ She stopped suddenly and put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh! No! What if she was the one . . . Oh my God!’