can’t go into that room. I cannot.
‘Rachel? I know this is harder than you can bear, but if you can articulate it, it will help, I promise.’
‘It won’t bring him back, though, will it?’
‘No. No, it won’t. But it will help you to grieve. It’ll help you to get to the bottom of all of this.’
‘He was murdered.’
‘Who was? Can you tell me who?’
‘My son. Kieron. He was stabbed outside a bar in London.’
‘Yes. Yes, he was, Rachel.’
Outside the silent room, the intermittent hum of traffic. I glance at the window, hoping to see the fly. But it isn’t there.
‘He’d only been away from home four days,’ I hear myself whisper. ‘It was freshers’ week. He’d gone on a date with this lad he’d met. He texted me. He sounded happy. Like he was making friends, having a good time. As he came out of the bar, him and his friend were set upon. His friend managed to get away, but Kieron… he didn’t. He didn’t get away. They rushed him to hospital but… he didn’t make it.’
The room is silent. Outside, the droning of the cars. Life continuing as if nothing has happened. How can life continue as if nothing has happened?
‘You’ve been incredibly brave, Rachel. You’ve found words you never thought you’d find and you’ve said them out loud. There are other things you can’t imagine you’ll ever do, but you will. I think this is the heart of all of it. Kieron. Your son. Your son is at the heart of this.’
I am nodding. My jogging bottoms are spotting with tear drops.
‘The attack on Ian Brown,’ she says. ‘It’s the only one you remember clearly, is that still the case?’
‘Yes. The others are just… they’re just… images.’
‘And you remembered that attack after you’d read about it in the news.’
‘Yes. That’s when it all came flooding back.’
‘You remembered being in the pub, and taking the boy to the pond where you took Joanna. You said he reminded you of your son, even though physically they were not alike.’
‘Something about him. And he was gay as well, like our Kieron.’
She shifts in her chair, leans forward with her hands clasped together in front of her.
‘And the date, Rachel. The twenty-eighth of September. The day you decided to raise your passing acquaintance with a homeless boy to something more. A friendship, with yourself in a maternal role. You wanted to adopt him, in a sense. You wanted to give him a fresh start. You chose the twenty-eighth of September to do that, but you didn’t mention the significance of the date in your story. Do you think you can now?’ She pulls out some tissues. ‘I know it’s hard, but you’re doing so well.’
‘It’s the anniversary,’ I say.
‘Of what, Rachel?’
‘Of Kieron. Of him… of his… I can’t say it. If I say it then… I don’t… I don’t… I don’t want…’ I grasp a tissue, another, another. There aren’t enough tissues in the world. I will cry for the rest of my life and still he won’t come back. He will never come back. My boy. My son.
‘Knifed,’ I manage. ‘Hate crime. How can I say that? How can any mother say that?’
A moment. Two.
I look her straight in the eye. ‘I just wanted to comfort him, that’s all. I wanted to hold him to me so that he wouldn’t have to die alone. Kieron died alone. We got the call and went straight there. We drove all the way without stopping, straight to the hospital, but he… he’d gone. He died afraid and lonely and I wasn’t with him. I wasn’t with him. Do you see?’ I plunge my face into my hands. ‘I wasn’t there for my boy. I wasn’t there.’
51
Katie
Transcript of recorded interview with Katie Edwards (excerpt)
Also present: DI Heather Scott, PC Marilyn Button
HS: And the final date, this Saturday just gone, can you confirm your whereabouts? (Pause) For the tape, Ms Edwards is composing herself.
KE: I was in Warrington with my mates. I wanted to be with my mates. Get wasted, like. It was the anniversary and I just couldn’t take it. I was in a state. I thought Mum would be doing something but she left for work without saying anything to anyone. My dad didn’t say anything to me that morning either, apart from asking if I was all right, which I wasn’t, obviously, and neither was he. None of us were. Dad said he was going out with Roy so I thought Mum