Just after ten, a different 4×4 drove in. And hallelujah, there was Jane. The man driving it got out and followed Jane into the house. Minutes went by, then lights started going on and off all over the house. What the fuck was going on?
After darkness had returned to the house except for one window, the door opened and the man came out again. He went from building to building, entering each one then finally returning to the house. Tenille had enough street smarts to understand exactly what was going on. The man might be alone and without a uniform, but she knew a police search when she saw one. She folded her arms across her chest, hugging her shoulders. They knew about Jane. She’d known deep down they’d get there eventually, but part of her had wanted to believe Jane would be her safe haven.
What was worse was that Jane knew about her. Well, she knew the police version. Tenille had no expectation of a fair crack of the whip from the cops. She didn’t know if there was any evidence against her, but whether there was or not, she was connected to the flat and she would be high on any suspect list. They might pretend they only wanted her as a witness, but she knew it would be more, much more than that. And if they got their claws into her, she was fucked. She couldn’t grass up her dad, no way. Not because she was afraid of him, but because he had proved that he was her dad in the sense that counted. He had protected her; she would do the same for him because nobody else in her whole life had ever done that for her.
Except for Jane, of course. But much as Tenille loved and respected Jane, she knew they were different breeds. Not because of the colour of their skin but because the lives they’d led had brought them to diverse understandings of the way the world worked. Jane truly hadn’t known when she’d gone to the Hammer how it would end. Tenille had known there would be violence, though. Extreme violence. And she’d done nothing to stop it. So although it was Jane who’d sown the seed of Geno’s destruction, it was Tenille who could have stopped it. And she knew her friend well enough to know that Jane would nevertheless take the burden of guilt on herself.
So she owed Jane too. She had to protect Jane just like she had to protect her dad. And that meant not falling into the hands of the cops. Just as well she hadn’t already gone down to the farm to find a hiding place for the night.
After what felt like a long time, the man returned to the farmhouse. A few minutes later, he re-emerged, got into the 4×4 and drove off towards Fellhead. Tenille watched the swathe of light from his headlamps as he turned right at the junction and headed down towards the main road. He was really gone.
That left Jane.
It took much longer than Tenille had expected to get down to the farm. Nothing in her past had trained her for negotiating treacherous terrain in the dark. Tenille lost her footing several times, twice ending up flat on her back. By the time she made it to the corner of the farmhouse, her trousers were soaked and there was a long streak of black mud down one sleeve. She stuck her head round the corner of the building, trying to make out the sensor for the yard lights. She eventually spotted it, set to one side of the door. This was the kind of thing she did know about. She reckoned that if she stayed hard against the wall, she would clear the inside edge of the arc covered by the sensor. There was only one way to find out.
Tenille crept round the corner, face to the wall. She inched along, past a pair of darkened windows, past the door, to the edge of the uncurtained window that cast an oblong of yellow light on the pitted concrete of the yard. She risked a quick peek. It was the kitchen. One of those cooking ranges that they had in posh houses on the telly, the end of a kitchen table. But no sign of Jane.
She ducked under the window and straightened up at the far end. This time, her swift glance was rewarded. Jane sat at the dining table, a sheaf of papers in front of her and a glass of wine to hand. There was no sign of anyone else in the room. Tenille took a deep breath and stepped in front of the window. She tapped hard on the glass.
Jane’s head shot up and she stared at the window. Tenille moved right up to the glass. Jane’s mouth widened in shock and she leapt to her feet, almost knocking over her chair in her haste. She disappeared through the kitchen door. Moments later, the outside door opened. As she stepped out, the yard lights sizzled into life. Tenille stood awkwardly, head cocked to one side, unsure of her reception.
‘Tenille?’ Jane sounded wary. ‘Is that you?’
Tenille pulled the baseball cap from her head. ‘Yeah. I had to cut my hair.’ Of all the ways to start the conversation that she’d been rehearsing all day, that hadn’t even featured in the long list.
‘What the hell are you doing here? The police are looking for you.’
Tenille felt her bottom lip trembling. She’d been holding herself together for so long and now she just couldn’t do it any longer. Tears sprang from her eyes. ‘Can I come in? I’m freezing,’ she said piteously, her whole body shivering.
‘Of course, come on. Look at you, you’re soaking.’ Jane hugged Tenille to her then hustled her into the kitchen. ‘Wait there, I’ll get you some dry trousers.’ She returned a few minutes later with a pair of fleecy sweatpants. ‘Get these on. Stand over by the Aga where it’s warm.’
Tenille was too exhausted to do anything other than what she was told. The heat from the Aga felt blissful. She pulled off wet trainers and changed her trousers. Meanwhile, Jane had taken a brick of homemade soup from the freezer and was zapping it in the microwave. She kept glancing at Tenille as if she had a million questions, but she said nothing.
‘I legged it,’ Tenille said once her teeth had stopped chattering.
‘So I gathered,’ Jane said, busying herself getting a bowl and spoon on the table. ‘I had the local police round here earlier.’
‘I know, I was watching.’
Jane raised her eyebrows. ‘The cops in London sent them. But I already knew about Geno from the news. Come on, sit down and eat this soup. Then we can talk properly. My parents won’t be back for an hour or so.’
The first bowl of soup barely touched the sides. As Jane ladled out a second helping, Tenille said, ‘Got any bread?’
Jane fetched a couple of rolls and some butter and watched while they disappeared at record speed. ‘You were ready for that,’ she said when Tenille finished.
‘I haven’t eaten since last night. And I did a lot of walking today. I made it over the hills from Grasmere and I didn’t get lost once. I tell you, you need a map up there. I nearly got all turned around a couple of times before I figured out which hill was which. Like, I dunno how Wordsworth and them managed all that walking around without maps.’ She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘That was great. Thanks, Jane.’
‘You’re welcome. But you have to tell me what’s been going on.’
Tenille hunched her thin shoulders and sighed. ‘My dad blew Geno away. I found him lying dead in the flat. I wasn’t, like, thinking straight, I just wanted to make sure he didn’t get caught for it so I set fire to the flat. I tried to hide out in your flat, but the cops came calling and I knew it was only a matter of time before they found me there so I did one.’ Her mouth twitched in a grimace. ‘I didn’t have anybody else to go to. So I came here.’ She gave a quick up and under look. ‘You’re not, like, angry with me, are you?’
‘I’m not angry, no. I’m concerned. Like I said, the police were round here earlier–’
‘Did you tell them about going to my dad?’ Tenille interrupted.
Jane shook her head. ‘No. I wanted to wait till I’d had the chance to talk to you. But they are seriously looking for you. They searched the place and they asked for the key to my flat so they can get in and look for you there. I told them there was no point, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer. You’re going to have to give yourself up, Tenille. This is not just going to go away.’
Tenille glowered defiance at Jane. ‘Sure it’ll go away. It’s just a black waster that’s been killed. A week or two goes by and nobody will give a shit.’
‘Maybe not in the nor
mal way of things. But it’s not like you can stay on the run forever. You’re thirteen, not twenty-three. And as soon as you resurface, they’re going to be coming for you.’ Jane sounded exasperated.
‘I know that,’ Tenille said, all sulky teenager. ‘But maybe they’ll get another suspect. Take the heat off me, then I can come back.’
‘That’s not going to happen while they’re concentrating on finding you. Tenille, you’re going to have to tell them the truth. Actually, we’re both going to have to tell them the truth. You have to tell them about Geno and I have to tell them about going to your dad.’
‘They won’t believe us,’ Tenille said dully.
‘Why wouldn’t they? Your dad makes a far more credible suspect than you. He’s got a reputation and, I presume, a record to match.’
‘Yeah, but I think I left my fingerprints on the gun.’
Jane looked at her in horror. ‘You think you left your fingerprints on the gun? How the fuck did that happen?’
Defensive, Tenille said, ‘I picked it up, all right? And I didn’t wipe it off afterwards. I forgot. I was in a state. Maybe it burned up in the fire, but if it didn’t, they’re not going to believe it wasn’t me.’
‘Tenille, they’re a lot more likely to believe it was your dad.’
She shook her head stubbornly. ‘I’m not grassing him up. And neither are you.’ She gave Jane a calculating look. ‘So, are you going to hide me or what?’
Jane looked thunderstruck. ‘Hide you?’
‘Yeah, hide me. Just till the fuss dies down and we can figure out what we’re going to say.’
‘I can’t hide you here. The cops have already searched it once.’
‘All the more reason why they won’t search it again. They’ve looked, I’m not here.’
Jane shook her head. ‘This is a bad idea, Tenille. Look, why don’t you sleep here tonight and in the morning we’ll go to the police and tell them the truth.’
‘The truth isn’t going to work. We’ve got to come up with something better than the truth. My dad stood by me, I’ve got to stand by him.’
‘He killed a man, Tenille.’
Tenille looked away. ‘No. Geno was trash, he deserved what he got. You think I’m the first kid he messed with? You think I’d have been the last? No. My dad did a good thing and I’m not going to send him to jail for it.’ She pushed the chair back from the table. ‘You won’t help me, fine. I’ll just go back on the road again. I made it this long, I can make it a bit longer.’
Jane grabbed her by the wrist. ‘Wait. You’re not leaving.’
‘I’m not staying either if all you’re going to do is dob me in.’ Tenille wrenched her arm free from Jane’s grip, her expression wounded. ‘You say you’re my friend. But you’re not. You’re just the same as all the other whiteys. When it comes right to it, you just the same. I should have stuck with my dad. He knows what to do with grasses.’ Tears started to her eyes and she brushed them away impatiently. ‘Fuck you, Jane. Fuck you.’
On June 22nd, we reached Matavai Bay once again. There, we divided all that was practical to take from the ship in equal proportions. Sixteen men elected to leave the ship, eight chose to remain with me. My heart was heaviest when I bade farewell to Peter Heywood. But it was right for him to leave us. He was not implicated directly in the mutiny & I believed he would not suffer unduly for staying with me. Under cover of darkness, I went ashore to take my final leave of him. I could not go in the light of day, for I was too ashamed of the unravelling of the lies I had told Chief Teina to look him in the eye. We walked together along the sandy beach, Peter & I, & I asked that he explain to my brother the truth of what had transpired between Bligh & myself. I had not until then acquainted him with Bligh’s foul accusation, & his horror convinced me that I had been right to mutiny rather than have our names besmirched by Bligh’s baseless calumnies.
26
Derwent Water sparkled silver and blue in the sunshine. A few dinghies were already cutting through the water, the angles of their sails indicating the strength of the breeze that ruffled the lake’s surface. But Jake had no eyes for beauty that morning. England and this task had made him jaded and faded in a matter of days. He relished nothing that lay ahead of him–neither further encounters with the elderly nor a potentially bruising reunion with Jane.
At least he could postpone that while Dan Seabourne was hanging around the place. Jake had never warmed to Dan and Harry finding their constant flirting both unnecessary and embarrassing. He suspected the lack of warmth was mutual and he didn’t anticipate Dan’s presence lending any help to his attempts to get alongside Jane.
His worries about Dan’s presence extended beyond the purely personal, however. As far as Jake knew from his reading of Jane’s email, Dan had failed so far in his searches at the Family Records Centre. Where Caroline’s researcher had come up with a wealth of material, Dan had drawn a blank.
Or so his email had said. If it had been the truth, Dan’s arrival in Fellhead made little sense. Why would he have come all the way from London if he had truly nothing to report? Jake’s flesh goosepimpled as the only explanation he could imagine crystallised in his mind. If Jane had realised her email had been hacked, she could have texted Dan or phoned him and told him not to send his results. And maybe even to go one better and send an e-lie to fake him out. If she was aware of the hack, she had to suspect it was him. And if she suspected him of such a shit’s trick, there was no way he was going to get anywhere near her research.
He’d just have to find another route to what he wanted. Jake picked up a pebble and threw it as far out into the water as he could. It plopped, then the ripples spread, merging with the tiny waves created by the wind to disappear almost immediately. Sunk without trace. Whatever it takes, that’s not going to be me.
‘You look terrible,’ Jane said, taking in Dan’s grey pallor and sweaty skin. ‘That mussel really did for you, didn’t it?’
‘I’ve never liked shellfish,’ Judy said. ‘When you think what they feed on, it doesn’t make you want to put them in your mouth. Can I get you a cup of tea, Dan? Or something to eat? We had our breakfast a while ago, I hope you don’t mind us not waiting for you, but Jane said better let you sleep.’
‘She was right,’ Dan said, his voice thin and colourless. ‘I don’t think I could face eating anything, but a cup of tea would be a gift from the gods. I thought the fresh air would do me good, walking down from the cottage.’ He sighed then squeezed his eyes shut. ‘But I can’t remember the last time I felt this rough.’ Judy reached across and patted his hand, then put the kettle on.
‘I got rescued by a cop last night.’ Jane tried to sound breezy and nonchalant. It felt a bit like whistling in the dark.
Dan’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘What?’
‘I was walking back from Bossy Barbara’s when some drunk driver nearly ran me over. Mum reckons it must have been Billy West from over the hill. The local teenage tearaway driver. I was picking myself out of the hedge when a detective inspector from the local nick turned up.’ Jane fiddled with the fringe of a table mat, meeting no one’s eye.
‘Just by chance? Or was he chasing the drunk driver?’
‘That’s what I thought at first. But no. That was just coincidence. He was on his way to see whether I knew anything about Tenille’s whereabouts. And then he decided he needed to search the place while he was here. So his bosses could report back to Scotland Yard that they’d done the job properly, I suppose.’
‘I still don’t understand,’ Judy said, pouring boiling water into the teapot. ‘I mean, why run away if you’ve got nothing to hide?’
‘I imagine because she believes she won’t get a fair crack of the whip from them. You think they’d be pointing the finger at her quite so quickly if she was a nice respectable white middle-class girl from Hampstead? I don’t think so. And that’ll be why she’s run.’
Dan shook his head. ‘Poor kid. So they thought she might be hanging out with yo
u?’
Jane shrugged. ‘I don’t think so. Not seriously. I think the inspector was just going through the motions. What he really wanted to know was if I’d heard anything from her. Email, text, whatever.’
‘And have you?’ Dan asked.
Don’t lie unless you have to. ‘I’ll tell you exactly what I told them: No, I haven’t heard from Tenille at all.’
‘I still can’t get over the rush to judgement about Tenille. I mean, she’s a nerdy black kid, right? It’s not like she runs with the gangs or anything. Or is there something you’ve not been telling me?’
Jane waited till her mother had gone through to the pantry, then said softly, ‘Her real dad’s the gangsta who runs the Marshpool. He doesn’t acknowledge her as his daughter but everybody knows. Including, it seems, the police.’
‘Ah,’ Dan said.
‘“Ah,” is right. But it still doesn’t make Tenille guilty of anything except being scared.’