Broken Silence (15 page)

As a rough-edged lad from the socially deprived Ridges, he wasn’t great boyfriend material. But it was worse than
that. Brady had introduced her to Matthews for which her mother had never forgiven him. With that came the end of her mother’s dreams of her daughter competing at Badminton and ultimately, representing Britain in the Olympics.

Brady pulled out a cigarette from his packet and lit it. He had gone from trying to quit altogether to chain smoking. He decided to cut himself some slack; after all it had been one hell of a morning.

‘Thanks,’ Brady said as he gestured towards the makeshift ashtray.

His mouth felt dry. It didn’t feel right being sat here in Matthews’ kitchen.

‘So, tell me what have you got out in the field then?’ Brady asked, trying to make polite conversation.

She smiled at him. And as she did, he remembered what it was about her that had made him fall so deeply in love. In that smile shone her passion for life. She glowed with a zest that was contagious and addictive.

‘They’re thoroughbreds, both as crazy as one another. Melody’s a chestnut mare, stunning at dressage, and Tico’s a liver-chestnut gelding. He’s fantastic at cross-country,’ she enthused.

Brady watched as the glow on her face slowly faded.

Frowning, she reached over and took a cigarette from Brady’s open packet and lit it.

‘Thought you’d given up years ago?’ Brady asked.

‘I had,’ she replied.

‘Things that bad?’ Brady asked.

She followed his eyes to the lily-white band on her left hand where her wedding ring should have been.

‘Yeah, things are that bad.’

Brady’s eyes slowly took in every inch of her face. He had forgotten just how striking her sculpted cheekbones were, let alone her haunting eyes. Needless to say she was too good for Matthews, as Brady had drunkenly told him on more than a few occasions. She was still only in her mid-thirties even though she had been married to Matthews for sixteen years.

She broke into a delicate, nervous smile as she caught Brady’s eye.

‘What about you? First day back that bad?’

Brady shrugged and looked down at the cigarette between his fingers. This was hard for both of them. They were trying their best to avoid talking about that night. A lot had happened since then. And a lot had happened before then.

‘I heard about the shooting. I didn’t think you’d be back at work so soon.’

Brady shrugged again.

‘Jack?’

He dragged his eyes up to hers. Her elfish, short strawberry blonde hair fell in unruly waves across her forehead, partially covering her cheeks. She unconsciously tucked the stray locks behind her small ears as she held his gaze.

The last time he had seen Kate her hair had fallen in thick, tumultuous waves past her shoulders. In all the time he had known her he had never seen her with short hair. He resisted the temptation to reach out and gently move the stubborn lock that seductively fell again, partly obscuring her eye. Sitting so close to her hurt more than he wanted to admit.

But he wasn’t sure it was real. He wasn’t sure about anything any more. All he knew was that he had never felt
so empty. Nothing he did seemed to fill the dark void in his life since Claudia had left.

He turned away and looked out at the garden. It was drizzling.

‘Where’s Jimmy, Jack?’

‘I was hoping I would find him here,’ Brady answered quietly.

When she didn’t answer he turned to look at her.

‘Kate?’

Her eyes were filled with tears.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘Don’t be,’ she replied as she swallowed back the tears.

Brady had forgotten how her eye colour could suddenly change from a misty greyish green to a burnished emerald shade. She was angry. Who with, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was with the both of them; since Matthews wasn’t the only one who had fucked with her head.

Brady held her gaze as she searched his eyes for confirmation that he had made the right decision. He couldn’t give her an answer. He couldn’t even give himself one.

He abruptly stood up and walked over to the open French doors. He kept his back to her as he slowly dragged on his cigarette.

‘What’s going on, Jack?’

He turned round.

‘Jimmy hasn’t told you?’ Brady asked, unable to disguise his surprise.

‘He hasn’t been here for the past two days …’ she bitterly stated.

‘Didn’t the Simmons call you?’

‘The phone went at some godforsaken hour this morning. I was half-asleep and so didn’t answer it, I didn’t realise
who it was until this morning when I saw the caller ID. I just presumed it was Sophie being silly trying to ring Evie. Believe me, those girls have done it in the past! I’ve lost count of the times Sophie would ring this house at some ridiculous hour asking for Evie. I’ve even caught Evie whispering on the phone in her bedroom to Sophie past two in the morning. The times I’ve wanted to strangle the pair of them! But … how did you know?’ she faltered as she looked up at Brady’s dark expression.

‘Kate … Sophie was found murdered early this morning …’

She numbly shook her head at Brady as she tried to absorb what he had just told her. She didn’t ask any questions. She was a copper’s wife; she knew the score. Instead she slowly finished her cigarette then distractedly stubbed it out.

‘Who did it?’

‘We don’t know yet,’ Brady quietly replied. ‘Is it right that Sophie was here last night?’

Kate numbly nodded.

‘I take a yoga class on a Thursday night so I left the girls to it. That was just before six. When I got home after eleven, Sophie had already gone and Evie was in bed. Her lights were out so I presumed she was asleep.’

Brady resisted the urge to ask where Kate had been until eleven. He had no right, not any more.

‘I’m sorry, Kate, but I’ll have to take a statement from Evie.’

‘Sure,’ Kate mumbled as she bit her lip. ‘Jack? Where did you find her?’

‘Potter’s Farm, opposite West Monkseaton Metro station.’

Kate covered her mouth as she shook her head.

Brady threw what was left of his cigarette out into the large, secluded walled garden. He then stared blankly at the miserable grey cloud smothering the North East of England.

He heard Kate stand up. He didn’t need to look to know that she was now stood behind him. He could feel the closeness of her body.

He turned to face her.

Silent tears ran down her cheeks.

‘There was nothing you could have done … Nothing.’

‘No … if I’d come home earlier then … then … I could have given her a lift home …’

‘Kate, if only life was that simple.’

She instinctively moved into his body and rested her damp face against his chest.

He stood still, not knowing what to do. He could feel her body trembling as she thought about what she hadn’t been able to do. Brady knew better than anyone the ‘what if’ game. Masochistically going over an event again, and again, imagining making that vital difference. It was a pointless, painful exercise.

Before he had time to question it, he gently placed his arms around her fragile shoulders and pulled her in close. He held her tight and waited. He didn’t want to think about how good it felt to have her pressed against him. He breathed in her smell and pretended for a moment that nothing had changed. That he still had her all to himself before Matthews had come between them.

They had had an argument about him needing to go away. His younger brother had suddenly upped and left the North East one night. Brady had heard rumours that he had got involved way over his head with a gang in Wallsend and that he had taken off. He had been told that his brother
was in London, so that was where he was heading. Before he left, he had broken it off with Kate, angry that she had tried to prevent him from going, never dreaming that she would meet someone else before he got back. Worse than that, that it would be Matthews. He was Brady’s closest friend and he had trusted Matthews, never questioning why he was always hanging around with them. Nor did he question the intimacy that was developing between Kate and Matthews. With hindsight he could see that Matthews had been biding his time with Kate. She was already pregnant with Evie when he returned. They were married within six months of Brady leaving for London and had a baby daughter three months later.

Brady had coped, but it had been hard. For a long time he wanted to get Matthews up against a wall and punch the hell out of him. But he didn’t. He chose to walk away. If he hadn’t needed to go to London, then it might have been him who had the big house in Earsdon and the teenage daughter. Life had a way of fucking you up when you least expected it. He had never asked Kate if she had turned to Matthews on the rebound. He didn’t need to, it was obvious to both of them that she had used Matthews to hurt him. But then life had taken a momentum of its own and somehow that hurt had come back to haunt her.

‘Oh God, Jack! What am I going to do?’ she asked, bringing him back to the present moment.

He presumed she was talking about Matthews. He didn’t answer.

‘What’s going on?’

Kate abruptly shook herself free from Brady’s embrace.

‘Evie? What are you doing? I thought you were in bed ill?’ Kate asked guiltily as she moved away from him.

Brady was completely thrown. Not only had he banked on her being at school, but he no longer recognised her. He noticed that she looked tired; the dark patches of skin under her puffy, bloodshot eyes suggested that she hadn’t slept too well.

Kate walked over to her and tentatively felt her forehead.

‘Don’t touch me!’ Evie snapped as she pushed Kate’s hand away.

‘Evie, please don’t be so rude,’ Kate replied, embarrassed.

‘What’s he doing here?’ she asked Kate accusingly.

He steadied himself as he looked at her. He couldn’t believe how much she now looked like Matthews; especially her eyes. Sometimes Brady had wondered whether there was a possibility that Evie could have been his, but stood there, it was evident that she was Matthews’ daughter.

Brady slowly took in what he had missed; her growing up. Her long, straightened, blonde hair was identical to the victim’s and like the victim her fulsome body was more akin to an older girl’s. Brady had to accept what Matthews had said, it would have been easy to have mistaken the victim for Evie.

Brady realised she was at least three inches taller than Kate and her build was wider, more powerful. He was still taken aback by how much older she looked, even without make-up she could have passed for eighteen. The happy little girl with gangly legs and scabby knees had been replaced by some petulant teenage Midwich Cuckoo. One who hated his very being. And considering what he had to tell her, he couldn’t see matters really improving.

‘I didn’t recognise you, Evie,’ Brady said, attempting a smile. ‘You’ve changed a lot since the last time I saw you.’

‘Yeah? Well, a lot of things have changed since I last saw you,’ she replied. ‘Uncle Jack!’ she added contemptuously.

Brady knew she had good reason to hate him.

‘Aunt Claudia not with you then?’

Brady didn’t answer. It was pointless. He knew she was lashing out at him.

‘Oh yeah, that’s right, she’s left you, hasn’t she? Finally realised you couldn’t keep your hands off my mother, was that it?’

‘Evie, please!’ cried out Kate. ‘This is unacceptable.’

Evie turned to her mother.

‘It’s you that’s unacceptable. What about you lying to me?’

‘Evie, don’t talk to me like that!’ Kate retaliated, humiliated that Brady was witnessing their exchange. ‘It’s not what you think.’

‘Yeah? How often does he come round when I’m at school and Dad’s at work, eh?’

‘Evie, stop it now! Apologise … I mean it! You apologise to Jack right now!’ Kate demanded, her cheeks flushed.

‘You’re both as bad as each other, do you know that? You deserve Dad as much as he deserves you.’

Brady watched uncomfortably, feeling every bit the stranger he had become. He shifted uneasily. He knew why Evie was so angry with him. Brady had known Kate longer than she had known Matthews. It was no surprise that Kate had rung him, needing to talk when she had found out about yet another one of Matthews’ casual affairs.

Admittedly, the last time Evie had sleepily stumbled in on them it hadn’t looked good either. Kate, drunk and desperate for comfort, had suddenly kissed him. It was a kiss filled with regret for all those years she could have had with him. But what Evie had failed to notice was that he had resisted, despite wanting more. Loyalty to Claudia first had forced him to stop. That and the sobering fact that
if Matthews had found out they had crossed the line, he would have killed Brady.

Since that night over a year ago he had kept his distance from Kate, realising he was getting too involved in Matthews’ marriage, more than he was in his own.

Evie gave Brady a stabbing look of disdain before turning and walking out.

‘Where are you going?’ Kate called out, the panic apparent in her voice.

She didn’t reply.

‘Evie, wait. Jack needs to have a word with you … it’s about …’ Kate faltered.

Evie stopped and irritably turned round.

‘Sophie, I need to talk to you about Sophie,’ said Brady.

Evie’s face paled as she looked from her mother’s distraught expression to Brady’s dark, foreboding countenance.

‘Stop it! Stop it!’ screamed Evie.

‘Please Evie,’ Brady persisted. ‘I need to know who might have done this to Sophie.’

Kate grabbed Brady’s arm.

‘For God’s sake, Jack, what the hell are you playing at?’ she hissed. ‘She’s already told you she knows nothing!’

Brady pushed on.

‘Evie? Do you understand how important this is? Do you? Someone did something terrible to Sophie. They hurt her, really hurt her and it’s my job to find out who did that,’ Brady doggedly continued, ignoring Kate.

He couldn’t believe that Evie was refusing to talk to him. From the moment he had begun interviewing her she had been evasive. Refusing to even look at him, let alone answer any of his questions. She even had the audacity to take out her iPhone and start texting while he was asking questions. He couldn’t understand her attitude given the gravity of the situation. She just seemed to have switched off from the reality of what had happened to her best friend.