Saving Silence (18 page)

Only Ollie could have given them this information!

Nadina was still talking. ‘Didn’t get what Ollie was going on about, to be honest. Thought it was the booze talking. I told him he oughta go home. We left the party together. Then,
when we were outside . . . He made a move on me, Im.’

She spoke over my exclamation. ‘It was just a snog. A clumsy drunk snog at that. And, well, this is why I’m such a crap mate . . . I let him. I felt bloody awful afterwards.
I’m so sorry, Im. It was such a sucky thing to do.’ She looked so small and ashamed of herself that weirdly, instead of anger I almost felt sorry for her.

Nadina had fancied Ollie long before we’d got together, only he hadn’t been interested. Why had I assumed those feelings would go away just because I started going out with him?
‘Did anything else happen?’ I said. It came out sounding colder than I meant it to.

‘No! Honest! It was obvious straight away he only did it cos I was there and he was drunk and in a really weird mood. And I felt a bit upset after too. Used, y’know? Like he’d
just done it to see if he could. He texted as soon as I’d left asking me not to tell you. I wanted to, but . . . I was just so ashamed . . . And then the stuff with Hamdi blew up and I guess
I thought maybe it’d be better for everyone if I just kept quiet. So that’s it. Can you forgive me, Immy?’

I stretched my arms behind my head. I should feel hurt and betrayed, but instead I just felt empty.

‘Please don’t hate me,’ whispered Nadina, her eyes shiny with tears. ‘I couldn’t deal with any of this crap without you.’

I shut my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. ‘It’s not your fault, Nads. And I get why you never said anything. Yeah, maybe if things were different I’d be angry, but as I
said, I don’t want anything to do with Ollie any more. I hope he gets what he deserves. Just be truthful with me in future, OK? You’re my best mate and I want to trust you.’

There was a silence. I looked away. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nadina wipe her eyes.

‘Im,’ she said, ‘you
can
trust me. I promise. And I get that you’re upset that Ollie was in on this robbery crap. Imagine how I feel. I mean, he did over my effing
shop! His mates broke my jaw and beat up my dad, an old man! But he was just the lookout. And from what the police said to me this morning, he didn’t touch Hamdi either. This is Ollie
we’re talking about. We’ve known him for years. Do you seriously believe he’d happily go along with robbery and assault and
murder
?’

I’d seen Sam’s video. The police had showed it to me. I hoped one day I could forget how awful it’d made me feel. At least the fact that Ollie hadn’t touched Hamdi was a
silver lining, I supposed.

‘I bet he didn’t want to be there, Im. Even tough people get pressured into things. There’s more to this – there’s gotta be.’

‘If he was unwilling, then why didn’t he tell the police that? He’s taking all the blame himself!’

She gave me a knowing look. ‘World’s not black and white, Im. Sometimes I think that’s something you don’t get. Remember what I said when we had our bust-up?’

I felt a twinge inside me. ‘To listen to my heart.’

‘Exactly. And what’s your heart telling you about Ollie? Forget your head. Forget evidence! What’s your gut instinct saying?’

I thought about the Ollie I’d known before everything had turned upside down. He had his tough side, sure, but that only ever came out at the right moments. Like when he needed to be firm
with bullies, or sort out a fight. He had great judgement and knew right from wrong. The rest of the time . . . he was hardworking. Certain. Fun. He knew what he wanted from life. When he talked
about getting out of the rat race, going to university, earning enough money to make a decent life for him and his mum, there was something different about him.

That was the real Ollie. Why had I ever doubted it?

WEDNESDAY 20 NOVEMBER

I left home earlier than usual, hoping to catch Imogen. I knew she often got into sixth form well before lessons began and sure enough I found her sitting on the common-room
sofa with a cup of tea and a packet of custard creams, finishing off a worksheet. There were a few others in the kitchen, but they were deep in conversation and didn’t notice when I joined
Imogen.

‘The police called to update us yesterday,’ I said in a low voice. ‘Ollie’s the only identifiable one. You can’t tell who the others are. This means the only real
link is if Ollie names them.’

Imogen pursed her lips. ‘So whoever they are, they could say he’s lying? That’s not very comforting.’

She offered me a biscuit.

‘I love custard creams, but no thanks.’

‘If you love them, what harm’s one going to do? One biscuit won’t make you balloon. You’re a good-looking guy, Sam; stop beating yourself up.’

I felt my cheeks burn. The fact that Imogen thought I was good-looking had completely thrown me. I’d been overweight so long that it was still hard not to see myself as a big guy –
even with all these sharp-fitting new clothes. I really needed to come to terms with who I was now – not with who I’d been before.

As I took a biscuit the buzzer went for class. Imogen and I cleared the table and headed off to begin the day. I passed Nadina as I was going into history. She gave me a small smile and a wave
and I took my seat feeling like sixth form had suddenly become a much friendlier place.

WEDNESDAY 20 NOVEMBER

I don’t know what I expected to find outside Ollie’s house. A police cordon? An officer? A big sign saying ‘Do not pass’? But it was the same as usual,
apart from that this time Maria Paula had no smile for me when she opened the door. It was clear she’d been crying. I guessed she’d not been at work. I looked round at the bare hallway
and thought of the mismatched charity-shop furniture in the main room. All Ollie’s mum has is him, I thought. Her son, who, according to the script, should soon get out of this place and have
a brilliant life. And it has all come crashing down.

There weren’t too many places Ollie could hide in a flat this size. I found him in his room, lying on the bed with his arms behind his head. I squeezed round the door. There wasn’t a
chair so I leaned against the wall. Ollie’s bedroom was, literally, a room with a bed in it. Last I’d seen, there’d been basketball and football posters on the wall. This time
they were scrunched up in the bin.

I cleared my throat. All last night and all today I’d thought about how to do this, but now I was here finding words was hard. ‘I shouldn’t be here. Police expressly told me
not to – conflict of interests and all. But guess what, I am.’

Ollie didn’t move. I waited. After a long moment he shifted into a sitting position, back to the wall. His face wasn’t giving much away but something about the way his shoulders were
hunched made him look haunted. It had been all very well to say those things about him being guilty and deserving what he got. Now he was in front of me, it wasn’t so easy to feel that
way.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘I want to know why you got involved in this.’

He shrugged. From nearby I heard Maria Paula talking. On the phone I guessed. She was speaking Spanish, but her tone sounded on the edge of hysteria. I closed the door.

Another silence. I folded my arms behind my back. Ollie stared down at the mattress. He was wearing a T-shirt and what looked like pyjama trousers. His feet were bare. When had he last gone out?
Was he even allowed to? The police might have told him to stay in. For an active guy it must feel like being in hell.

Eventually he said, ‘No point you being here, Im. There’s nothing to say.’

‘Your mum knows everything, I’m guessing.’

‘All my mum knows,’ Ollie said, ‘is that I helped some guys hold up a newsagents’ and while they were beating the bloke to death, I was raiding the till, and then a week
later we did another shop.’

‘Nadina’s shop.’

‘Yeah.’

He was being so matter of fact. I hadn’t expected him to be sobbing, but I’d expected some feeling. ‘She must have asked how this began.’

‘Best she thinks I just fell into it.’

‘So there
is
a reason.’

Ollie drew the duvet over his knees. ‘Leave it.’

No chance, I thought. ‘You never say much about your mum. You’re certainly her world.’

Ollie flinched. ‘I let her down. Don’t need you to tell me that.’

‘If you explained—’

‘Did what I did. End of.’

He wasn’t making eye contact but at least he was talking. ‘You didn’t just fall in with this,’ I said. ‘That’s not you. I don’t know why you’re
protecting these lowlifes by not telling the police who they are, but I’m willing to guess they’ve some hold on you, or you’re scared, or something that makes sense. Because I
know you’d never willingly do something that’d hurt your mum.’

I perched on the side of the bed. Ollie immediately turned away.

‘I’m not going till you tell me,’ I said.

After a silence that seemed to last a long time, Ollie put his hand on his forehead. In a voice that suddenly sounded choked up, he said, ‘I’m never gonna get past this. This is my
life down the drain, just like that. We came here to escape this stuff.’

He was talking about when he and his mum had left Colombia, I realized. Feeling like I was a broken record, I said, ‘Why did you get into this?’

Outside, Maria Paula’s voice was getting louder. Ollie gripped the duvet. ‘I wanted to be better than this. Now I’ll be a sodding statistic. Just another immigrant kid with a
record.’

‘Talk to me. What’ve you got to lose?’

Ollie drew in a breath. ‘Back in August some guy two doors down threw a party. No one sleeps when those go on. People from sixth form were there, so I thought I might as well go too.
Wasn’t my scene, but then I got talking to this guy Paz.’

It wasn’t a name I recognized. ‘He lives on the next estate,’ Ollie said. ‘He’s a mechanic, couple of years older. Great footballer too. He came over from Colombia
like me. We were so similar it was unreal. He just got stuff without me spelling it out, y’know? Proper deep things no one else could understand.’

Having the same background counted, I guessed. Maybe Colombia was a bigger part of Ollie than I’d realized. He never really talked about it. All I knew was that he and Maria Paula had come
over as refugees several years back and been granted political asylum.

He continued. ‘It was like, I dunno, having this older brother suddenly. Paz remembers what it was like in Colombia better than I do. He could tell me things. My mum doesn’t talk
about stuff from before. I get it – she wants to forget. Dunno, used to be OK with that. Now it bugs me. I don’t really know why we had to run away. I know it was because of violence.
Someone Mum knew got shot dead, maybe even a family member, but that’s it. Don’t even know who my dad is or if he’s still out there. Those are big things I’ve a right to
know, Im. It’s my life too. But there’s no point asking Mum. She won’t tell. So meeting Paz was like finding a bit of me I didn’t know. Man.’ Ollie made a noise that
was almost a laugh.

Now I’d got him talking, I didn’t want to break his flow. ‘So if Paz was so great, why did you never mention him?’

Ollie rubbed his forehead. ‘Felt disloyal, like I was going behind Mum’s back, asking ’bout things she wants dead and buried. Paz ain’t on the straight and narrow either.
He’s got stolen goods he sells on. Nothing major, just small stuff. And he carries a knife. Not that that’s unusual, but one time we were out, he used it to threaten some mouthy kids. I
don’t act like that and I don’t do weapons. I didn’t like that he did. But when you’re, I dunno, holding someone up to be something great, you make excuses for them.
Didn’t want him to think less of me either. So the other things he did that didn’t sit right I ignored too. A few weeks back . . .’

He hesitated, dark eyes fleeting to mine. He’s afraid, I realized.

‘What?’ I prompted.

Ollie took a breath and blew it out slowly. Almost inaudibly he muttered, ‘A few weeks back Paz introduced me to the McAllister twins.’

I felt the colour drain from my face. This was worse than I could possibly have imagined.

I knew who the McAllister twins were. Everyone did. Josh and Dale McAllister were brutal scumbags who didn’t give a damn, and if you cared about your life you bloody well didn’t get
on the wrong side of them.

I’d only ever seen the twins from a distance, but they were practically identical. Pale, almost transparent complexions, close-cropped fair hair, long faces and rangy all-arms-and-legs
build that I’d heard was deceptively strong. These guys were seriously mean. They were only a year older than us but already notorious. Their patch was the next estate to Ollie’s. Both
had been cautioned but never charged. Everyone knew what they’d got away with though – assaults, breakins, a couple of stabbings. I’d heard a particularly nasty story of what Josh
McAllister had done to a guy who’d hit on his girlfriend.

Now I understood why Ollie wasn’t speaking up. A chill ran through me.

Then I realized something worse. The McAllisters knew who I was.

‘We are totally in the shit,’ I said.

Ollie gave me a humourless smile. ‘Understatement.’

I took a moment to work through this new information. God! How lucky had I been that time they’d gone through my phone? They’d only hit me a few times. By McAllister standards, that
was getting off very lightly.

Anger surged through me at the thought that Ollie had given them my number, my location, told them that threatening Benno would be a good way to get to me. With effort, I held it in. If I had a
go at him now I would never get to the bottom of this. ‘Why didn’t you get the hell out before things even began, Ollie? You recognized them, right?’

‘Of course! But we were on a patch I didn’t know. I was freaked by what they might do if I left. And y’know, it wasn’t so bad. I acted hard. Almost felt like I was
hanging out with regular dudes. Then Paz left.’ He drew a breath. ‘I should’ve left too, but I couldn’t think how without pissing them off. So I stayed. Guess which night
this was.’