14. Cassian
FOURTEEN
Cassian
“ Y ou’re very smiley this morning, Mr Caddick.”
I turned my head to see Reagan Davies, my Year Two teacher, carrying a pile of jigsaws that was almost as tall as her.
“Let me take some of those.” I swept it, not because I didn’t think she was capable, Reagan was more than capable of lots of things, including skydiving which she’d done over the weekend, but because she couldn’t actually see where she was going. This was mainly because she was looking at me.
“Thank you. We’re making our own jigsaws, so we’re starting with some market analysis.” She tipped her chin up and looked forwards as we walked down the corridor that was beginning to feel more and more familiar.
I was still learning as a new head. My previous school had been three times the size, so the role of deputy was full on and it’d prepared me well for this move. Puffin Bay Primary was smaller, the pace was slower, which I liked, and the staff stayed. A lot had always lived on the island, and they didn’t want to leave it, which suited me fine.
“Sounds fun.”
She studied me and smiled. “You definitely are smilier. So is it true? You’re dating Romy McAllister?”
I groaned but I was still grinning. “What rumours have you heard?”
Reagan led the way into her classroom, managing to put the jigsaws down on the table before they toppled over. I put my pile next to hers and had a quick scan around the room.
“I heard you watched the rugby together and Clover Carew caught you groping each other on the beach yesterday. Good taste, Sir. Romy’s gorgeous, and she’s one of our nicest parents too.” Reagan folded her arms, eyeing me as if I was about to pour more details that she could add on the gossip train. “So, is it true?”
I knew the cheesiest grin in existence was plastered over my face. No point denying it. “I like her. I think she likes me, so we’re just hanging out.”
“That’s how all the best romance stories start. Me and my girlfriend started off by just hanging out. Now we’re literally hanging out in the middle of the sky.” She headed to her desk, fishing around in her drawer and produced her phone. “Here, have a look at these photos we took mid-air. It was such a rush.”
I looked at them, happy that she was sharing stuff with me that wasn’t to do with school and work. At my past schools, we’d had a staff team that got along, we worked well together, and part of that was knowing more about a person than just the role they were paid to fulfil.
“I wouldn’t mind having a go at that myself. Where did you do it?”
Reagan explained where it was, and what had been involved. I already knew she was something of an extreme sports junkie, but thankfully her girlfriend was a paramedic and they’d met when she’d treated Reagan for an injury.
“You could do it with Romy.” Her tone was full of mischief.
“I’m not sure Romy’s a skydiving person, and I think we’re working towards the going out for a meal stage.”
“From what Clover said, you were eating her. As in kiss, not something else – Jesus, I need to put my filters on before school starts, don’t I?”
I was laughing, but I did nod. “Probably a good idea. I’d best unlock the gates.”
“And go and see your girlfriend.” More teasing.
“I don’t think I can call her that yet.”
“Yet.” Reagan gave me a wink and proceeded to knock the jigsaws off the table as she turned round.
Romy was at the gates with Mia and Heidi, playing the clapping game that most girls and some of the boys liked at that age. Occasionally I saw the older kids playing it too, telling me it was for old time’s sake because they didn’t think it was cool enough for them now they were practically grown up.
I said good morning to a few of the other parents, stopping for a conversation with one about her son’s eczema, and how he might be tired because he’d been up all night feeling scratchy. Having seen a couple of the spots, I could tell it wasn’t eczema as they looked suspiciously like chicken pox. She took him back home, which everyone was relieved about, apart from it was likely we’d now have an outbreak.
“If either of the girls don’t feel well, we’ve got chicken pox going around,” I said to Romy once most of the other parents had moved on. “Be warned.”
“Heidi’s had them. I’m not sure about Mia. I’ll contact the social worker – I think Mia’s due a medical this week anyway so maybe I can find out about her inoculations and all that jazz.” She shook her head. “There’s still no sign of Cara. Liv phoned me this morning – I was still asleep – to tell me the CCTV trail had gone cold. They’re looking at it being related to Mia’s dad – at least that’s their strongest lead.”
There was shade over her face.
“They’re more worried about Mia?”
Romy nodded. “Liv was basically giving me the head’s up. There’ve been some issues in the prison where Stan’s being held – there are inmates in there from two different groups, so what’s going on outside is spilling inside. Liv’s concerned snatching Mia could be a next step, especially if Mia does know something.”
“Shit. That’s not good.”
“It really isn’t. She’s got her first session with a child psychologist today, pre-therapeutic work. Maybe she’ll disclose something that’ll help.” Romy looked away into the distance, probably feeling frustrated.
“We’ll keep a close eye on her in school. We always do.”
She nodded. “I know. You have a good team. Have the jungle drums started with the rumours? I had three parents ask me within about two minutes this morning if we were seeing each other.” She brightened, smiling now.
“One of the teachers, Reagan, asked me outright. I’ve had a lot of other staff smiling at me this morning. It’s not a bad thing.”
She nodded, looking at my expression as if she was trying to read it. “Good. I don’t want to be a bad thing.”
It was my gut that spoke. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s ever going to be the case.”
Everything went okay up until morning breaktime. I managed to do a learning walk, checking out what was happening in classrooms; I spoke to the chair of governors about meeting him tonight with the builder at the schoolhouse. He was a nice enough man, somewhere in the region of a hundred and ten years old and pretending he was sixty – I figured he was actually around seventy-five – and he had no malice in him at all. He was stepping down as chair at Christmas, which meant I’d have a new boss, who’d be voted on by the parents and board of governors.
It was breaktime when I heard a little knock at my door, definitely from a child. I got up from my desk, my watching telling me it was time to stand, and opened it to find Mia standing there, Reagan behind her.
“Mia wanted to speak to you so she asked me to bring her here. She’s very nervous but I told her that you won’t shout at her.” Reagan gave me a look that told me she was nervous about this too, followed by a shrug, which probably meant Mia hadn’t said anything else.
“Thanks, Miss. I’ll walk Mia back to her classroom when she’s ready, unless she wants you to stay?”
Mia shook her head and sat herself down at the round table in the bay window of my office. It was one of the things from the previous head I was keeping, a place kids could sit down if they needed a quiet space to read, write, doodle or just stare out of the window, because we all needed time to just stare out of the window.
She took one of the crayons from the pot that was an ever-present and a colouring sheet and she started to colour, adding small details that were unusual for a kid of her age.
I sat down opposite her and picked up another colouring sheet, this one of a tree that had creatures living in it, colouring it in odd colours that I knew were wrong by the labels on the crayons and probably didn't suit – a blue tree, anyone? – but it was good to break the rules sometimes.
There was only the sound of crayon on paper, otherwise, silence.
Silence was sometimes what was needed. I’d done the same thing in my previous school, having a space where there was no pressure to do anything or say anything, just be. We sometimes forgot that bit of being a kid, that it was okay to not be busy, to just be bored, to hear nature in the distance, or just background noise and let your head empty. I’d already developed a regular visitor here, a nine-year-old boy called Archie who struggled with the classroom, wanting to be wild and free and running across fields or sand dunes. He turned up and knocked every other day, taking a seat without speaking at the table and stared out of the window.
“Thanks, sir,” were the only words he said, just as he exited the room, his shoulders no longer tense and the scowl removed. It could be amazing what a bit of silence did.
Mia put her crayon down and looked at me. I didn't do the same, carrying on colouring my owl red.
“Owls aren’t red.”
“Mine is.” I didn’t look up.
“Maybe that’s okay then. If it’s just yours.” Five-year-old logic. “Do children get sent to prison?”
I looked up then. “Not really. Some children can do really bad things like stealing or hurting people, and they may be sent somewhere they have to be and adults try to help them stop doing those bad things. But not prisons where adults go.”
She wrinkled her nose and frowned. “Can you go to prison for lying?”
Technically the answer was yes, because fraud was lying. I didn’t think Mia was committing fraud. “No, you can’t. People lie a lot, Mia. Sometimes we lie to make someone feel better or to not hurt them. Sometimes we lie to protect someone, or because we’re scared what will happen if we tell the truth.”
She started to colour again, her gaze fixed on the sheet. It was a house, a cottage, not unlike where she was living.
“I told a lie.”
Ah. We were getting somewhere.
“Do you want to tell me what it was?” I began to colour a fox purple, leaving off the eye contact.
“Mummy told me that I should say the man was called Logan.”
“Okay.” I carried on colouring.
“Do you want to know what he was really called?”
“Do you want to tell me?” I’d had a child in one of my previous classes who’d witnessed a murder. The police officer who’d worked with us had given me tips on how to respond if the child made a disclosure, especially because he’d seen his parents be evasive and he’d learned to shy away from questions if too much was asked.
“Mummy said not to.” She started to colour again.
“So that’s hard, isn’t it? Because you don’t like to be in trouble, I know, so it’s hard to do something you’ve been told not to.”
She nodded, her colouring having stopped once more.
“You can choose if you tell me or not. I’m sure your mum just wants you to be safe and okay.” She took hold of a black crayon and scribbled heavily over her colouring.
“He’s called Blake and he’s a bad man. Mummy told me I had to call him Logan. He put things in my bed.”
I frowned, trying to still my pulse rate which was making my watch think I was doing a HIIT workout. “Under your covers?”
She shook her head, looking at me now. “In the mattress. He moved them though. Mummy was meant to be taking them to someone.”
“Did you mummy tell you where she was going on that Friday when she forgot to leave the key?”
Mia shook her head. “She said she was seeing my daddy’s friend, then Blake would stop coming round.”
I frowned, trying to click pieces of a jigsaw in place. “Mia, do you know what your daddy’s name is?” We didn’t have a name or contact details on file. Neither was he named on Mia’s birth certificate.
“Stan. I’ve only seen him twice.” She put the black crayon down. “I wish I could see him more.”
That didn’t add up. Stan wasn’t the name Romy had given for Mia’s father. “Why can’t you see him more?”
She shrugged. “Mummy said he doesn’t live close enough. Am I in trouble for telling lies?”
“No, Mia. You’re not in any trouble. Do you feel better now you’ve told someone?”
She nodded.
“Will you tell Romy?”
“Do you want me to?”
Another nod. “Can I go back to class now?”
“I’ll walk you there. What lesson have you got?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Maths. I don’t like maths.”
We got there just at the end of the maths lesson, going into reading, which Mia seemed happy about. I shared a look with the teacher so she knew to keep an eye on her, then I went back to my office and called Liv.
Liv was there in twenty minutes, her suit looking crumpled and her eyes looking like she hadn’t slept for the last two days.
“So the man in the house isn’t Logan. Cara told her to lie. It’s actually Blake. And her dad is called Stan. Believe it or not, that makes a whole hell of a lot of sense.” She sat back in the same chair where Mia had been colouring.
“Want to join the dots for me? If you’re allowed?”
Liv nodded, looking at the kettle in the corner of my office. “Thirsty work this. A brew would go down a treat.”
“Jesus.” I stood up and switched it on, glad the me of an hour ago had remembered to fill it up.
Liv checked her phone while I made the tea, listening into a conversation she had with her boss, confirming the two new names and then doing a lot of listening.
“No sugar, drop of milk.” I put the drink in front of her, sitting back down in the seat I’d been in before, the red owl staring at me from the table.
“Thank you.” She sipped at it, even though it was far too hot. “Asbestos mouth. You can never drink tea too hot.”
“Beg to differ. I have a strong relationship with the roof of my mouth.”
“That’s overrated. Anyway, I’ll give you some info in exchange for an update on you and my friend. Deal?”
“Deal.” It would only be what the rest of the town already knew.
“Good. Okay, so before Cara moved back to Puffin Bay, she lived in Manchester, working as bar staff in a nightclub. More details are available – I’ve spent the last seventy-two hours of my life going through hers – but those details aren’t necessary. She was a party girl, pretty, and was good arm candy. A modern-day Moll, if you like. She went out with a couple of men who were involved in an OCG – organised crime group, the new name for gangs, really – and she liked that lifestyle, the money, access to drugs, the status. It got serious with one of them, she moved in with him, gave up work and had a bit of a WAG lifestyle. Then, by the looks of things, she got pregnant, but not by him.”
“His father. Stan.” That piece of the jigsaw fell there. “It was either a nickname or someone older.”
“Correct. Dad and son fell out, as you’d imagine, and Cara came back to Puffin Bay in the house she’s in now. Stan got in touch when it suited him and when he wasn’t in the nick or in Portugal, and he’d send money over for Mia, but he didn’t want anything to do with Cara. I think that was the only way he could mend things with his son – Cara’s ex – who was an up-and-coming player in the group.” Liv had almost finished her tea already.
“What was Stan’s role in the group?”
“He was the money man, but with a lot more clout than that. He kept tabs on who owed what and what the interest should be. He’d actually trained and qualified as an accountant, so he wasn’t stupid, apart from where he’d stick his dick, obviously because the whole Cara thing caused a lot of issues and nearly split the crew – there was a lot of infighting which was a blessing and a curse to the Manchester police. Cara ended up getting involved with a rival crew; she needed money, and someone sniffed her out, wooed her a little and started using her house as a pick up point for drugs, a place to stash it before it was shipped out to Ireland via the ferry from Holyhead. Cara might’ve even taken it over herself, maybe using Mia as a decoy – I know she visited Dublin a few times recently.
“Anyway, it looks like she’s got mixed up in the middle and ended up working for both OCG’s, which was bad timing as there’s a battle for territory on the island. Someone took someone else’s drugs and now it’s a free for all. It’s common knowledge in certain circles that Mia’s Stan’s daughter, so she would be potential leverage.” She rolled her eyes. “Thank god I’m not on that squad.”
“Sounds exciting though.”
“If you like that sort of thing. I don’t. Too many blokes with oversized egos and a sense of morality that’s stuck in the seventies.” She waved her hand, dismissing the suggestion. “So what Mia’s told you confirms what we’re thinking but we don’t know if Cara’s missing, hiding or something else. There’s no trace. The boss is on his way to see Stan, who’s currently doing some time at his majesty’s pleasure over in sunny Manchester.”
“Who’s Blake? You’ve explained who Stan is.”
“Blake’s heading up the Anglesey branch of the Mike Gelding’s lot – we don’t give the OCG’s names anymore, the bosses think it glamourises them. He’s a nasty bastard – sorry, am I allowed to swear in a school? – and I really hope Cara’s hasn’t crossed him.”
“You’re okay to swear as long as it’s not in front of the kids. Who’s Logan then? Or is that just a made-up name?”
“We think it’s a made up name for Blake, so if Mia slipped up and said a name, it wouldn’t be tied to Stan’s rivals. I think Mia will have seen him at some point in the house, but that’s me guessing.” She tapped the cup. “I’ll go and see Romy and give her the same information. It’s all come together over the weekend, especially since the break in on Friday night.”
“Any hunches what’s happened to Cara?” At the end of it, Cara was still Mia’s mother.
“If we find her, she’ll be arrested for supply and possession of Class A drugs, we have enough evidence for that. Mia’s not going to be going back to her.”
“She’ll stay with Romy then.”
Liv shrugged. “Maybe. It’s a huge undertaking for Romy.” She eyed me. “Dish it up. You’ve been here about three weeks. What are your intentions with my friend?”
I gave her the hard stare I reserved for children who were disrupting lessons.
“To get to know her better. For both of us to have fun. For her to get to know me. It was only just over two weeks ago since we first spoke to each other.” Maybe it was a small town thing, all this fast forward on stuff.
“Fair point. You like her though?” Liv looked excited. “You’re the first bloke she’s fancied – that’s real anyway – since Joel.”
“What do you mean, that’s real?” I frowned. “What blokes haven’t been real?”
“Actors she’s crushed on. Book boyfriends. She hasn’t even looked at another man in real life for years, so I’m glad she’s getting back on the horse.” Her eyes danced as they looked me up and down. “Is it horse-like?”
“Don’t you have a missing woman to find?” To be fair, I’d heard worse.
She sighed, stood up and stretched. “I do. And a pile of paperwork to get through before I can knock off shift and get some sleep. I’ll see Romy first.”
“You do that. Can I use you to scare a few Year Six kids while you’re here?”
“What’ve they been doing?”
“Graffiti in the toilets.”
“How do you know it was them?”
“They wrote their own names in their own handwriting. Community service is in order. Thought you could deliver the sentence.”
“With pleasure. They’re not the brightest, doing that are they? At least use your other hand and write someone else’s name.”
“Is that why your name with the year you left’s engraved on the wall next to where these muppets have vandalised?”
Her grin was wider than the Menai Strait.
Liv was around again the next day, this time looking like she’d managed some sleep and looking rather boss-like in the school hall.
Romy sat next to me on the front row, her fists clenched, eyes stony. I’d seen her late Monday night after I’d met with the chair of governors and the builder, an agreement had been made around what works would be done to the schoolhouse, the only problem that we’d need to wait three weeks for work to begin. The house was set for an entire rewire, new plumbing and replastering throughout, as well as a much needed new roof. I wouldn’t be able to move back in before Beryl and her husband came back from their cruise, so I’d have a couple of months in a hotel, or in one of the rooms over the Puffin Inn, which didn’t sound like too bad a place to be when the autumn storms came in.
Last night, we’d gone over what Liv had told us both and what Romy had said while we drank Bailey’s-spiked hot chocolate in her garden, no security alarm busted this time. Mia had seemed happier afterwards, talking more both at school and at home. Her session with the psychologist had been positive too – she’d also said how much she loved living with Romy.
The reason for most of the town now being present in the school hall was in part due to Mia. More rumours had done the rounds during the day about what Cara had been up to. The police had been speaking to more residents, having a better idea what questions to ask to pull out information that the person might not have considered relevant, and there was an air of suspicion within the town. Fewer children walked the short distance home on their own, people were locking their doors, alarms were being set.
Tonight was about giving people tips on security, as well as making sure that the rumour mill wasn’t about to drive itself into meltdown.
Liv tapped the microphone. A high pitched shriek echoed round the room, yanking out a painful groan from everyone apart from Morris, who’d announced that he’d forgotten his hearing aids.
He didn’t need a microphone for everyone to hear that.
“Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, pub owners and cats,” Liv said, scanning the audience. “Can I ask that everyone has their phones on vibrate, silent or off, as it’s really annoying when one rings half way through.”
There was a brief scuffle while people checked, including Romy.
“It’s on airplane mode.” She put it away again. “We won’t be long here. Even Liv can’t talk about security for more than half an hour.”
Liv could and did. She talked through the basics, locking doors and windows, what to do if you were going on holiday, security systems and what was recommended and how not to get scammed.
Then she went through what they’d pieced together of the Thursday night and Friday morning when Cara disappeared, trying to jog more memories. There’d been a sighting of her getting into a vehicle that wasn’t recognised, some more details were given of that, and there was talk about how Cara had been behaving in the couple of days before.
Mavis put her hand up. “Should we be worried that whoever broke into the houses will break into more? We can amass our own police force to patrol at night.” Mavis looked at Morris as if she expected him and his walking frame to lead this from the front.
“We don’t expect any further break-ins. We believe that the person who broke in was looking for something specific. If Cara was a regular visitor to your house we wouldn’t mind speaking with you. With regard to starting your own patrols, that isn’t necessary. We have regular police patrols throughout the night, so you can focus on your beauty sleep.” Liv sounded confident and self-assured.
Mavis wasn’t finished. “Olivia Truman, I remember when you were the scallywag causing trouble at night. Don’t forget I found you up a lamppost once, young lady.”
Liv didn’t flinch in the slightest.
“Having lived a rather tame criminal life in my youth, I have a good insight into the brain of most scallywags, Mavis. It’s one of my most desirable skills. Anyway, we recommend extra vigilance. Securing your own home is something we suggest anyway, especially as the town is growing which means more people are being drawn here - ”
“Because of the best pub on the island!” There was a whoop from the back that was definitely from Gulliver Holland, followed by hushes from his brothers.
“I pity whoever taught Gully,” I whispered to Romy.
“I bet they’re very proud now. He’s just won another award for his books.” Romy glanced around and waved at him.
I felt my jaw clench. That was jealousy, and not a common feeling. Gully was good looking, famous and successful. I’d be surprised if Romy hadn’t noticed that, despite what Liv had said yesterday.
“Probably.” It was as much as I could muster.
Romy laughed and elbowed me. “I’m not interested in Gully, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t, but good to know.” Like I’d said to Mia, sometimes a lie was okay. Liv was wrapping up the talk, letting everyone know that the police would be around for the next while, answering any questions or if anyone had any more information they wanted to share. “Do you still want to get some food?” I had a table booked at a restaurant that Reagan had recommended.
“Definitely. I’ll just check in first and make sure they’re all okay and the girls are getting ready for bed.” She took her phone out of her bag and changed the mode.
It began to vibrate furiously.
“Everything okay?”
She shook her head, colour draining from her face. “Joel’s mum’s sent text messages and there are alerts from the security system.” She searched for Liv, who was being accosted by Mavis. “We need to get back to the house.”