The Good Samaritan
Page 53

‘I’ve messed everything up, Mum,’ she said, before her face crumpled and she began to cry.
I couldn’t have asked for anything better. I moved my chair closer to hers and draped my arm around her shoulders for comfort.
‘I got this new teacher, and at first I thought he hated me because he kept giving me rubbish grades,’ she continued.
‘Is this Mr Smith?’ I asked.
She nodded. ‘He seemed like he really cared and gave me lots of attention after school. And then we started getting . . . closer.’
‘How close?’ I asked. Our reunion was turning out to be even more rewarding than I could have anticipated. While I hoped Ryan Smith hadn’t hurt or abused Effie, would it be the worst thing in the world for my case if he’d stepped over the line a little?
‘I didn’t have many friends left and he was really lovely to me and I started to get feelings for him and I thought he had them for me too. But when I told him, he was so horrible.’
So that’s what he’d done to her. He’d led the silly girl on. Now I had something to work with.
‘Darling, did something physical happen between you?’
‘No. And I know it was wrong, but I wanted it to. He turned me down and called me nasty and stupid. I feel like such an idiot. I can’t even look at him anymore without wanting to be sick. I hate him.’
‘He seemed so nice. I bet he’s having a laugh about you in the staffroom over this.’
Fear spread across my daughter’s face. ‘You think he’s told the other teachers?’
‘Men of his age love attention from pretty girls like you. They boast about it to their friends. And you know how rumours spread in schools – maybe that’s how he gets his kicks, leading girls on so he can humiliate them and boast about it. I just hope none of the students know.’
Effie held her head in her hands and began to cry again. I rubbed her shoulders but didn’t encourage her to stop. I was torn between wanting to be the mother that Effie needed and demanding my revenge on Ryan. Effie potentially had all the ammunition I required, but I had to talk her around to my way of thinking first.
‘Does anyone else know about your feelings towards Mr Smith?’ I continued.
‘No, I didn’t tell anyone.’
‘Were you seen together?’
‘I guess so. I had meetings with him twice a week.’
‘But it’s not like you were spending time with him when there was no one else around?’
‘We were always alone in the room behind his classroom.’
I wanted everything in the world to stop moving so that nothing could distract me from savouring her every word. This was how I was going to destroy Ryan: mother and daughter together, working towards a common goal.
‘You were alone every time?’ I repeated. ‘You’re sure of this?’
‘Yes.’
‘And did he give this kind of attention to any of the other girls?’
‘No. He’d wait until everyone had left.’
‘And how close were you, physically, when you were alone together?’
‘A couple of metres apart.’
‘Okay.’ I must have looked disappointed because she added hastily, ‘But sometimes he’d get a lot closer.’ I’d always been able to tell when she was exaggerating.
‘Did he ever ask you about your family?’
‘A little – he asked about you and Dad.’
‘And what did you tell him?’
‘Nothing, really.’
‘Did he say why he wanted to know about us?’
‘He said he was trying to understand if I had problems at home that might explain my falling grades. But it was him who started it all by marking me down all the time. He told me he didn’t want to worry you both, so it was best I didn’t mention he’d been asking about you.’
‘So he encouraged you to keep secrets from us?’ I shook my head, folded my arms and let out an exaggerated puff of air. ‘That’s a fairly typical approach.’
‘To what?’
‘To grooming a child.’
‘What, like a paedophile?’
I nodded. ‘Part of my role at End of the Line involves talking to young people who’ve been through this, only by the time they reach me it’s often gone much, much further. These poor children. Oh, Effie, the stories I could tell you.’
‘But wouldn’t he have done something when I made a move on him in his car?’
‘You’ve been in his car?’
‘Yes, he gave me a lift home and I thought it was leading to something else. Then he started telling me how disgusting I was.’
‘Maybe he got cold feet; maybe he was playing mind games with you. It’s hard to know how these people think.’
‘I should tell Dad, shouldn’t I? He’ll know what to do.’
‘No, I don’t think we should do that just yet. You know how overprotective he is over you and he might do something rash. Leave this to me – I’ll sort it out. But I need to know how far you want me to take this.’
She paused for a moment, then looked at me with a steely determination I’d not seen in her before. ‘I want him to feel as shit as he made me feel.’
‘Okay. But I’m going to need your help to make sure he never grooms or humiliates any girl ever again.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ she replied, and I held her close to my chest and stroked her hair. It felt surprisingly good to have my elder daughter back.
I glanced around the coffee shop and lowered my voice. ‘You know an accusation like this could ruin a teacher’s career, don’t you?’
She nodded, and gave me a smile that told me she was on board with anything I might suggest.
‘Good girl,’ I replied. ‘Good girl.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
RYAN
‘Someone’s been in Granddad’s room,’ Johnny began on the phone. He sounded perplexed and anxious.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t want to freak you out, but you know that wedding photo of you and Charlotte on the shelf ? Charlotte’s face has been scribbled out with a pen. I only noticed it as I was leaving.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I am. I took it with me when he fell asleep so he wouldn’t see it. Who would do something like that?’
‘Laura,’ I exhaled. ‘Fuck.’
‘What? You think it was her?’
‘It could only be her.’
I fell silent. She must have somehow discovered Granddad was staying at the same facility as her son. And during their many conversations, Charlotte had clearly told Laura she’d scribbled out Britney Spears’s face from pictures with Charlotte’s crush Justin Timberlake. Laura was giving me a clear warning that, like me, she could do her homework.
I didn’t want to believe she was responsible, because that meant she was stepping out from the shadows and telling me she wasn’t afraid anymore, while I’d promised Johnny I’d let her go.
‘Jesus Christ, Ryan! If it is her then you’ve got to do something about this, Ry, before it goes any further,’ Johnny replied sternly. ‘If she’s as fucked up as you say she is, she could have done anything to Granddad when she was alone with him.’
‘I know, I know,’ I replied. ‘I’m so sorry.’
He hung up, and I held the phone to my chest and regretted taking pictures of her disabled son in the care home where my granddad also lived.