Page 95 of Deep Blue Lies
“Of course, it is important to remember that most of Layla’s closest friends are no longer here on the lower school site…
” A pause, in which Rachel felt herself tensing.
“I could perhaps ask the headteacher of the upper school if he would be able to read this?” Miss Townsend paused, then must have registered Rachel’s face, because she added quickly: “As well as here?” She smiled as if reassuring that the suggestion was in no way an attempt to evade the request in her own school. But then she seemed to gain courage.
“I should also say that…” She slowed, picking words as if treading through a minefield. “There does come a point when it’s important to let the children…not move on exactly, but not dwell too closely on such a terrible tragedy.”
In Rachel’s brain the shutters began clattering down.
“We do have the Layla Garden, the two rainbow benches, and we did dedicate the whole assembly to her memory in March, on what would have been her birthday.” Miss Townsend opened her hands. “As I say, most of the children here now won’t have known her that well.”
“But they know Gale .” Rachel countered, the tears springing back. “He’s her brother . And they know what happened. Everyone knows what happened.”
At this point Jon stepped in. He had a knack for knowing how far to let Rachel push things, and when to intervene. He held out a tissue to her and turned to the headteacher.
“How is Gale getting on?” he asked. “You said there were still some concerns.”
Miss Townsend looked like she might reach out and touch Rachel for a moment, but settled for letting her face crumple again, this time into a look that was clearly supposed to indicate compassion. Then she turned to Jon.
“He’s still a little way behind the other children, of course, but academically he’s beginning to catch up.” Miss Townsend replied, and Rachel dragged herself back to the conversation with a flash of anger. Gale had been ‘beginning to catch up’ for months now.
“We are still a little concerned about the social side,” Miss Townsend continued. “Obviously he’s been through a terrible experience, and it will take a while. But he’s still very isolated, very quiet. Unwilling to join in. He seems to want to spend as much time as possible on his own.”
“Is there…” Jon rubbed a hand across his chin. He hadn’t shaved that morning and even though you couldn’t see the stubble – his hair was even fairer than Layla’s had been – it made a rasping sound in the small office.
“Is there anyone else you can try sitting him next to?” The question smacked of desperation to Rachel. The same tactic the school had suggested back in the early days, when Gale had gone back a few weeks after Layla’s murder.
The school, the police, the grief counsellor they had first worked with, had all reassured Rachel that the other children would be able to compartmentalise.
To understand that, even though Gale’s elder sister had been abducted by a stranger, and then her naked, battered body discovered three weeks later, Gale himself could still play ‘tag’, could still take part in lessons.
Yet it was Gale himself who wanted nothing to do with the other children.
He went into school obediently enough, but when he was there he would stay the whole day almost completely silent.
At break and lunchtimes he would wander to the far edge of the school field.
Moving away if anyone else came too close.
The conversation moved onto familiar ground.
The measures the school were taking to support him, the things they could yet try.
How Gale’s own sessions with the grief counsellor were going.
But there was nothing new to say, and eventually a short silence settled in the office.
And then the headteacher asked what was on her mind.
“Is there any news from the police? Any progress?”
Jon bit his lip. He glanced at Rachel, who gave the slightest shake of her head, small enough that Miss Townsend missed it.
“They’re still looking into it?” the headteacher said, sensing something, but misunderstanding. “I mean, they’re doing something?”
“Of course.” Jon nodded, and Rachel knew he was going to launch into his standard explanation. His easy-to-understand guide to life as a parent of a murdered child. He was so good at it, she’d thought he should write a book on it. The Dummies’ Guide to a Dead Kid .
But then, with the letter that had come last week, it seemed he might have to add a whole new chapter.
“It’s not quite like you see on the TV,” he began.
“There’s no team of detectives in a big room with lots of white boards…
I mean there literally is – but they’re not only working on Layla’s case.
” He sighed, shook his head, and in a flash she saw how tired he was, how much this was taking out of him, too.
“What they don’t show you is just how overworked the police are… They have budgets, just like any organisation.” He shrugged, defeated.
“But there is still someone working on it?” Miss Townsend persisted. As if she were more outraged than they were. Layla’s actual parents.
“Yeah…” Jon nodded. It seemed to take a big effort.
“There’s a DI – Detective Inspector Kieran Clarke.
He’s responsible for the case, and he’s doing a lot.
He’s really trying to keep the focus on the case, but…
” Rachel shot him a glance, warning him not to tell the headteacher the latest chapter of their horrors. He backed off.
“Kieran’s doing a really fantastic job. All the police are,” Rachel cut in, the lie feeling better than the truth. “Actually, we have a meeting with him later, to discuss it.”
She shared a look with Jon, but it was interrupted by his mobile phone sounding.
The ring tone was the chorus of a song by Ed Sheeran – Layla had selected it, and he hadn’t yet changed it back to something more suitable.
Rachel knew why not. He quickly apologised, indicating both to Rachel and the headteacher that it was something from work, that he had to take it.
Then he answered as he backed out of the room, already explaining where a file could be found.
When Rachel was left alone with the headteacher, the atmosphere suddenly changed. There was a silence, until Miss Townsend spoke again.
“Well, again Rachel,” she gave a large sigh, “I am so, so sorry this has all happened to you.” She glanced down at the paper on the desk. “And I will be sure to mention this in the assembly. Thank you so much for bringing it in.”
But as Rachel looked at the headteacher, firmly nodding her head, she realised she no longer cared.