Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
It was WPC Freya Sloan’s day off. As soon as the date for Alice Patterson’s funeral was announced, she booked the day as holiday so she could attend as a civilian and not as a member of North East Police in uniform.
She sneaked into the church and sat at the back behind a woman with a young man she assumed to be her son.
He was tall and big, and the woman kept asking if he was all right.
When the service was over, Freya wanted to spend some time by herself.
The church had been full of people crying, but she could hear Judith above everyone else, even from the back of the church.
She had no idea how she would cope with losing her only child.
How did a parent come back from the horror of having a child stolen from them in such a violent way?
Last night, Freya called her mum and asked for some words of advice.
Gail Sloan lived in Leeds with her husband, Stan. Stan was Freya’s stepfather. Her dad died from cancer when she was only six years old. She remembered him vaguely, and seemed to be forgetting him more and more with each passing year.
‘Mum, how do you cope with the death of a child?’ Freya asked her mother. She was curled up in bed wanting to get an early night, but unable to sleep.
‘You don’t, love,’ Gail replied. ‘It’s something you just learn to live with. You have to adapt. The Pattersons’ entire world will have changed now. It’s about learning acceptance.’
‘I don’t think I want to be a parent,’ Freya said.
Gail gave a throaty laugh. ‘When you’re pregnant, you’re scared to death you’re not going to be a good enough mother.
You’re worried you won’t know how to change a nappy or if you’ll know when to feed.
You’re literally a bag of nerves. But the second you have the baby in your arms, it all goes out of the window, and you’re just full of love for the life in your hands. ’
Freya felt herself soften. ‘Really?’
‘Really. Then, the worry sets in.’
‘Oh.’
‘Especially when they start school. You worry about everything. Will they fit in? Will they get bullied? Will they understand the lessons? And it never stops. Even when they grow up. And I had to do everything on my own after your dad died. I had to talk to you about periods and sex and boyfriends, and then there were the mood swings you went through as a teenager, and that secretive stage where you told me nothing. And then you go and tell me you want to be a policewoman and the worry intensifies. Is there any wonder I’m grey? ’
Freya smiled to herself. ‘Mum, you’ve dyed your hair for as long as I can remember.’
‘Yes, to hide the grey. Remember when you fell down that mountain on the school trip and broke your leg? I honestly thought I’d lost you.’
‘It was a hill, not a mountain, and I sprained my ankle. You’re always so dramatic.’
‘You were in that A&E department with a mask over your face. I almost fell through the floor. Freya, having kids isn’t easy.
But it’s the most rewarding thing anyone can do.
I can’t begin to understand what Judith Patterson is going through right now, and I don’t even want to try.
I just hope…’ her voice broke. ‘You make sure you look after yourself, Freya Sloan.’
‘I will. I am.’
‘Good.’
Freya drove from the church in her little red Fiesta to Geoff and Judith’s house on John Street.
She parked outside and watched through the window to see if she could see any movement.
She had no idea if they’d have invited any friends and family back for a wake.
The road was relatively empty of traffic, and she couldn’t see silhouettes against the net curtains.
After almost half an hour of watching the house, she decided to get out and knock on the door.
It was a while before Geoff opened the door. He was still wearing his black suit, but he’d removed his tie. His face was drawn, dark circles beneath his eyes, and dried tear tracks ran down his cheeks.
‘Hello Geoff. I wanted to see how you and Judith were doing?’
He stood back to allow her in.
In the living room, Judith was sitting on the sofa. She’d removed her shoes but was still wearing the black suit she had on at the funeral. She looked uncomfortable, perched on the edge of the settee, a glass of strong-smelling alcohol in both hands. She looked up when she saw Freya enter the room.
‘Freya. Is there any news?’
‘I … I don’t think so. I’m not actually on the case, Judith. That’s CID. I’m in uniform.’
‘Oh, yes, of course. Sorry.’
‘I just wanted to see how you were both doing.’
Goeff told Freya to take a seat, and went over to sit next to his wife.
‘I don’t know,’ Judith replied. ‘I still can’t get my head around any of this. It’s … it’s a nightmare. I feel like I’m living in a nightmare and wish someone would wake me up.’
She placed the glass on the coffee table and snatched up a tissue from the box and wiped her eyes.
‘It was a beautiful service,’ Freya said after a long silence.
Geoff looked up and smiled.
‘Look, I’ve not come round as a WPC, I’ve come round just as me, to see if there’s anything I can do.’
Judith looked at her with tears in her eyes. ‘That’s very kind of you, Freya. Thank you.’
Freya looked around the living room and took in the framed photographs on the walls and mantlepiece, all showing the family in happier times.
There was a chair opposite her which had several cushions, a couple with pictures of cats on.
To the side of the chair there was a table with a knitting pattern and a huge ball of wool with two needles sticking out.
Freya imagined this was Alice’s seat, where she sat to make her clothing.
Freya could see this room being the centre of family life.
She could picture the curtains being drawn early to block out the bad weather and all three of the Pattersons sitting around, laughing, chatting and keeping each other company.
Looking at Geoff and Judith, a fragile couple on the verge of breaking into a thousand pieces, was heartbreaking.
Freya could feel the emotion rising inside her. She swallowed it down. ‘Is there anything you’d like me to do while I’m here?’
It was a while before either of them answered.
‘I don’t think so,’ Judith said.
‘I’ll leave you in peace, then,’ she said, standing up. ‘If there is ever anything, you have my phone number.’
‘I’ll see you out,’ Geoff said.
‘There’s no need.’
Freya left the living room. The darkness followed her. She was at the front door, her hand on the snib, when her name was called out by Judith.
‘Sorry, could I ask a small favour?’ she asked from the doorway.
‘Of course.’
‘The day Alice … that Monday, she went to the library and took some books out. They were due back a week ago and it completely went out of my head. Do you think you could return them for me?’
‘Sure. I’ll pop them round now.’
‘Thank you.’
Judith went back into the living room and returned with a pile of books. ‘I’m not sure if there’ll be a fine.’
‘I’m sure they’ll waive it under the circumstances.’
Freya took the books and left the house. She felt her shoulders relax as soon as the cold, fresh air hit her face. All she could think about was how much her mother was worrying about her. It must be hell being a parent.
Freya wasn’t much of a reader and had never been in Whitby Community Library before. Carrying the books in her arms, she headed for the counter, looking around her as she went.
‘Hello,’ she said to the two people behind the desk. Her voice echoed around the quiet room and she immediately lowered it. ‘I’m WPC Freya Sloan from North East Police. These books were borrowed by Alice Patterson. Her mother asked if I’d return them.’
‘Ah,’ Jane Wilkinson said. ‘That poor girl.’ She pulled the books towards her. ‘Judith needn’t have bothered with these. There was no rush. She’s got far too much on her plate.’
‘You know Judith Patterson?’
Jane looked up and smiled. ‘I’ve known her for years. She used to bring Alice in here all the time.’
‘Alice was a big book fan?’
‘That’s an understatement. She loved books, didn’t she, Anthony?’
Anthony, standing next to Jane, his eyes fixed on the pile of books Freya had brought back, nodded.
‘He’s taken Alice’s death very hard. Well, we all have.’
‘Did you know her?’ Freya asked Anthony.
He didn’t respond.
‘They got on very well. Always chatting and laughing. Many a time I had to tell them to remember they were in a library and keep their voices down. Thick as thieves they were sometimes.’
Anthony tried to hide his emotion but couldn’t. He turned and quickly ran into the back room.
‘He’s a very sensitive lad,’ Jane said, lowering her voice.
‘Did Alice ever come into the library with anyone, or always on her own?’
‘Aside from her mother, she was always on her own. Everyone knew her here. We always made her welcome,’ she said with an affectionate smile.
‘We always have a bit of a get-together on the last working day before Christmas. We close early and have a bit of a tea. We invited Alice along, too. She livened the place up. It didn’t matter what was going on in the world, she always had a smile on her face. ’ Her voice began to break.
‘You’ll miss her.’
‘We will. I can’t begin to imagine what poor Judith and Geoff are going through, bless them. Judith looked so ill at the funeral.’
‘You went?’
‘Of course.’
Freya frowned. ‘I think I saw Anthony there, too. I’m pretty sure I was sitting behind him. He was there with another woman. His mother?’
Jane nodded and smiled. ‘That’ll be Pauline. Yes, she looks after him.’
‘He needs looking after?’
‘Anthony’s got some behavioural issues. He finds the world difficult to cope with. Big crowds, things like that. He loves his comics and his books. He loves working here.’
‘Does he live on his own?’
‘Goodness, no. He lives with his mother. He wouldn’t be able to cope on his own.’
‘How old is he?’
‘He’ll be twenty-nine next birthday. We share a birthday. Pauline makes us a cake,’ she chuckled.
‘Can I ask you a private question?’ Freya asked.
Jane’s smile dropped. ‘Go ahead.’
‘We believe the person who killed Alice was known to her. Do you know of anyone who that might be?’
‘The other policeman asked me that, the one in plain clothes. I told him exactly what I’m telling you: we’ve had some dodgy people in this town over the years, and we’ve had some trouser-fumblers in here as well, but I can honestly say, hand on heart, nobody would ever harm Alice Patterson.’
‘Yet somebody did.’
Jane took a deep breath. ‘Yes. They did. And I hope to God I don’t know them. If it is someone from round here, it’ll tear this community apart.’
Freya gave a nervous smile and thanked Jane for talking to her.
Freya turned and left the library. She pulled up her coat collar as a stiff breeze caused her to shiver.
As she reached her Fiesta, she looked back at the library and saw the tall, heavy figure of Anthony Winstanley standing at a window, looking out at her.
His face was expressionless, his gaze steely, glaring straight at her.
She shuddered, climbed into the car and headed home to her flat.