The Birdwatcher (31 page)

‘What happened to “Never contact me”?’ he said.

‘Wait,’ she pleaded. It was loud in the background. The chatter of angry voices. ‘Has Zoë been in touch with you?’

‘Me? No. Why?’

‘I just wondered.’ She sounded odd, distracted. ‘I know you think I’m a terrible parent, but . . .’

‘What’s going on there?’

He could hear the sound of someone wailing in the background. ‘The place is full of bloody Chinese. Some idiot decided to send a car down to some farm because of a tip-off about drugs. Turned out the farm was full of migrant workers and they brought them all here. No bloody drugs. Now we’re waiting for Immigration to turn up and process them. It’s bloody chaos here.’

‘Nayland’s Farm? Christy Dacre?’

‘Did you know something about this, William?’

So that’s why Dacre had looked so nervous when he had visited him: the white van hadn’t been carrying drugs. It had been full of workers; illegals. Someone was running immigrant farm workers out of his buildings. That’s why they had closed the road.

‘What were you saying about Zoë?’

‘She’s not at home. She’s not picking up her phone. I just thought she might have called you. She likes you.’ On the dockside at Dover she had sounded cold and hard; now she sounded anxious.

‘No. I’m really sorry. She hasn’t.’

‘Right. Well, thank you, anyway,’ she said stiffly. ‘I better go then.’

‘Do you want me to go and look for her?’

‘Where would you look?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘No,’ she said, voice thin with nerves. ‘No. I’m sure she’ll be back.’

‘I don’t mind. It’s no bother. I’d like to help.’

‘I shouldn’t have called.’

‘Please, let me.’

‘I need to go.’ And she put down the phone.

He walked slowly home. He had assumed there was a connection between Dacre and Judy Farouk, that if there was it might explain why she had disappeared; but it seemed that Dacre was just a desperate man trying to keep a business afloat.

South was ten feet from his front door when he saw something dark in the shadow of his porch. His first thought was that someone had dumped a black bin-bag there, but as he dug the key out of his pocket, getting closer, the black shape moved. A white oval appeared at the top of it.

‘Zoë?’ he said.

He could make out her face now.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. And she was crying.

‘Your mum just called me. She was worried sick. Where have you been?’

‘Can’t say. I’m sorry. I’m a bit stoned.’

‘Stoned?’ He hadn’t thought her that kind of girl. ‘What did you take?’ he asked, opening the front door, and regretting having said that; it was such a policeman thing to do.

‘Don’t tell Mum,’ she said. ‘Please don’t. I’ll be OK.’

He led her, blinking in the light, to the kitchen. He helped her take off her cold coat and sat her on a chair. He’d only ever seen her in a school uniform or jeans before: she was wearing a short black skirt and dark blouse and her face was made up, trying to look older than she was, but the make-up had run from the rain, or because she’d been crying. She looked suddenly very like her mother.

‘I’d better call her and tell her you’re OK. She’s worried.’

‘I’ve been really stupid,’ she said.

Cupidi answered her mobile straight away.

‘She’s here. At my house. She’s fine.’

‘Oh, thank fuck. What the hell was she doing?’ said Cupidi over the hubbub of voices at the station. He could hear the tension leaving her.

‘I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Shall I take her home?’

‘Why did she come to you, not me?’

‘It’s not important. She’s here.’

‘You’re right. I’m such a bad mother. Christ. I’ll be home in fifteen minutes,’ she said. ‘Will I meet you there?’

Zoë sat at the kitchen table shivering. ‘How did you get here?’ he asked her.

‘Taxi. I thought you’d be in. Once I was here I didn’t have enough left to go home.’

‘I’m sorry.’

She looked exhausted and cold. He went upstairs, fetched a blanket from his spare room and wrapped it around her.

Zoë said she felt sick so South drove slowly. ‘I’ve cocked it all up.’

‘I’m sure it’s OK.’

‘No, it’s not.’ She seemed younger now; more childlike. He turned the heater up, but she was still cold. ‘These girls at school,’ she said. ‘See, I wasn’t really worried about them. They’re just idiots. But they hated me. Ever since that first day. When Mum put the siren on.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘It’s OK.’

‘No it’s not. They hate me because I’m a copper’s daughter. I just wanted them to leave me alone. So me and Mum could get on with our lives.’

‘What did you do?’ he asked again.

‘I’m really tired now. I don’t want to explain.’

She picked up the paperback that had been lying on her seat and switched on the interior light as he drove. Opening it she saw the big hand-drawn heart. ‘Is someone in love with you?’

‘No. That’s my friend’s. Bob’s.’

She pouted. ‘Shame. It’s lovely. You should be in love with someone.’

‘This is the bit where you usually mention your mother.’

She giggled. ‘Yeah. I’ve stopped that.’

‘What about you?’ he asked.

She said, ‘Yeah. Well. There’s this bloke. Only he turned out to be a knob.’

‘Oh.’

‘Do you like poetry?’

‘I don’t really understand it,’ he said.

She turned to the page with the poem on it, and read the two lines. ‘Oh. So your friend had a secret lover?’

‘Yes, I think so,’ he said. ‘But I don’t know who she is. I’m trying to find out.’

‘How exciting. She bought this book for him?’

‘Why did you come to see me? Is it because of that boy? Did he sell you the drugs you had last night?’ he asked.

She glared at him.

‘Sorry.’

She reached up and switched the light off. They drove in darkness, the only car on the road. ‘These girls hate me. I tried to get along with them like Mum asked me to. That’s all I did. I did it for her. She needs to make it work down here.’

‘What are their names?’

‘Don’t be a bloody policeman, please. They’re just girls, at school. Their names aren’t important. And they made my life hell. But I didn’t want to worry Mum about it. So I tried to get along with them, like Mum said, because otherwise they were going to fight me.’

‘They take drugs?’

She nodded.

‘You know those crows we saw that day? They’re all black make-up and they’re fat like crows.’ She giggled. ‘That’s what I call them. The crows.’

‘They gave you drugs?’

‘No. God. Everyone takes drugs.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘I started buying them cigarettes. One break I said, “I don’t want to be your enemy. Can we make friends?” And I gave them a packet of cigarettes.’

‘I thought you hated smoking.’

‘I do. Anyway, they took my fags and shared them out. And then they told me to fuck off. God I hate them. So it’s become a routine. Sometimes I buy them a packet of cigarettes and then . . . you know, call me names. But they don’t pick fights any more. It was one way to keep them off my back.’

‘You can’t buy a packet of cigarettes every day. That’s a fortune.’

‘I know. But if I stop, it’s going to start up again. And Mum’s all pleased because it’s all been going OK at school this last week. And then, Friday, I’m giving them the cigarettes and they’re smoking one and this boy comes up. He’s from the sixth-form college. He’s actually kind of nice-looking. Groomed, you know? Not like all the boys at school. And these girls all go nuts and wave at him and everything, and he stops. And he comes up to me and asks my name. So that really pisses them off to start with. So I make the most of it.’

‘You flirted with him?’

‘God, no. I just said hello. Told him my name. Asked him his.’

‘Which is?’

‘I’m not telling you.’

‘OK.’

‘So then after school he’s hanging around again.’

‘How old is this boy?’

‘Seventeen. And he comes up to me and says, “I got a motorbike. You want a ride?” I said, “Not likely.” Then he said, “Want to come to a party?” And one of the crows is right there. Like, furious. You should see the look on her face. She’s spitting sparks from her eyes at me. So I turn to her and say, “Can my mate come too?” ’

South laughed.

‘I know,’ Zoë said. ‘So all of a sudden she takes my arm and says, “I’ll come too then?” Job done, I thought. If only I knew . . .’

‘Knew what?’

‘He has this friend whose parents have a big house and he’s going to have a great big party there . . .’

‘This is yesterday, right?’

‘Mum would never let me go to a party. She lets me swan around with a birder twice my age in the middle of nowhere, but she wouldn’t let me go to a party.’

‘And you wanted to, yes?’

She shrugged. ‘This boy was inviting me to a party. Course I was happy about it. What are you, an idiot? But Mum calls up and says something has come up, some big thing that’s going to take hours, so I decided to go off and meet him in town and we caught a bus out towards Folkestone. And I think he’s funny, and kind of sweet, and he’s telling me about what music he likes, you know, the kind of things boys talk about, and then we walk up this big hill to this other boy’s house . . . And the party’s already on. And it’s cool. The boy whose party it is – his parents are away, and we’re all sitting around and there is loads to drink. And other stuff.’

‘Other stuff?’

‘You know. Drugs. That’s what parties are like. Normally I would be nervous at a place like that. But actually, you know what? It feels good. Until me and the boy go into this room and the crows are all there. The crows from school. And they’re all stoned, and talking to the guy who’s throwing the party and they’re all smoking this big bong. You know what a bong is?’

‘Well, yes. I do, actually.’

‘Course you do. You’re a copper. Anyway, they’re only there because I got the boy to invite them, but they all stare at me like they hate me for even being there too. And one of them, the one I had a fight with on my second day, says, “She’s the copper’s daughter.” ’

Zoë shrugged.

‘And just then the music finished and there was like this silence in the room, everyone just looking at me. I was bloody dead, you know? It’s all they had to say. “She’s the copper’s daughter.” Thanks a bunch. So the guy who’s smoking the bong with the crows, it’s his party. He’s an older guy, maybe eighteen. And he starts screaming at the boy for bringing me along and calling him an idiot. It’s not his fault. I didn’t tell him. I was afraid if I did he wouldn’t like me. So I said, “It’s OK. Pass me the bong.” And I took a great big suck on it and everyone just laughed.’

‘You took drugs to try and be cool?’

‘Don’t be so stupid. I hate drugs. I took drugs so they’d know I couldn’t tell my mum about the party. It was horrible. And stupid. Really stupid. But I was just so desperate to get along, I wanted them to know I was OK. So after a bit I started feeling strange and they were all staring at me. And it felt really bad. I couldn’t move. I hadn’t had that much. And I was passing out and everything.’

‘They spiked your drink?’

She nodded. ‘Think so. And I got the feeling everyone was laughing at me. I don’t know. It may have been the drugs. I remember I was crying and asking the boy to take me home. He was just embarrassed to have brought me there. I think I fell asleep for a while. And when I came too, some boy gave me ten pounds and put me in a taxi. You found me.’

‘I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell your mother anything. You just need to steer clear of those people.’

‘You don’t get it. I can’t steer clear of them. They’re my life. And it’s just so fucked up. Because they’re all such vile people.’

They were outside her house now. He switched off the engine.

‘They got photographs,’ she said, quietly.

‘Of you taking drugs?’

She nodded. ‘They said they’ll put them on Facebook. The boys said it as a joke but then the crows said they were serious. They’re going to. I know. Because they’re crows. And Mum will lose her job.’

They sat in the car and he realised how scared she must feel.

‘I’m going to do like you. Go to the other end of the world to get away from all this. I just wanted to tell you. To explain to someone. To stop myself from going mad, you know?’

‘Running away doesn’t help,’ he said. ‘I tried that.’

She let herself into the house and walked straight up to her bedroom. He followed to make sure she got there all right. At the door to her room, he asked, ‘Would you like some water?’

She kicked off her shoes, flopped down on her bed fully clothed and pulled the duvet over her, closing her eyes. ‘I just want to go to sleep,’ she said. ‘Can you switch off the light?’