Authors: Anne Cassidy

Finding Jennifer Jones (26 page)

What had she expected? That everyone would be sweet and understanding? Sally and Ruth had welcomed her back and she had to be grateful for that. Even Robbie, who often didn’t seem to know which day of the week it was, had been kind.
We’ve all got our skeletons
, he’d said mysteriously to her, and she’d looked at him in a new light. His skeletons couldn’t have been as real as hers were though.

She had to stay. She had to live there as
Jennifer Jones
, otherwise it had all been a waste of time.

She stood up and took the food packaging to a bin. Then she saw a familiar face. Jimmy Fuller was walking towards her along the paths with some other students. She looked around for somewhere to go, to hide, so that she could avoid a meeting with him but it was too late. He’d seen her.

She patted her top, brushing off crumbs. Would he come across? Speak to her? She braced herself and looked over at him. He gave her a smile and a wave and continued talking to the students who were with him. As if she was someone he knew slightly, an acquaintance. She returned the wave and walked back across the grass towards the block where the library was. She went quickly, trying to put as much distance between them as she could. He was outwardly friendly; she had to be satisfied with that. She thought of Aimee again, her face twisted in hatred. Anything was better than that.

When she got home there was a letter for her. The address was handwritten and the envelope had been franked. She pulled it open and inside there was a web page that had been printed off. It was from a news site, the
Alexandra Palace Online Local
. Most of it seemed to be filled with adverts but down the middle was a piece of news.

Raid at Photographer’s Yields Child Pornography

Mr Kenneth Cottis was arrested by police after a tip-off from a member of the public. During a search of his property indecent material was found and when his computer and hard drive were examined thousands of images of child pornography were discovered. Mr Cottis is on remand awaiting trial.

There was a Post-it stuck to the page.

Thought this would interest you. Lauren Heart.

She sat and looked at it for a long time. Then she folded it up and put it in her pocket. She cooked the evening meal, vegetable casserole as she’d said she would. It was gone six when she’d finished. Sally and Ruth were still out at work and she suddenly couldn’t face being with them, answering their questions about what kind of day she had had. She didn’t want to eat the vegetable casserole. She took the piece of paper out of her pocket again and tore it in half and half again and then into tiny fragments. The fact that she’d been right about Mr Cottis gave her no pleasure. She thought of Joe Bussell. She pictured him as she’d known him, a fourteen-year-old boy, physically larger than he should have been, wearing green army combats. In her mind she saw him saying goodbye to his family.
Just going out for a drink with my mates,
then taking the long slow walk from his home to Kings Cross Station. In his hand he had a carrier bag which held wire cutters and rope.
This was no spur-of-the moment decision.
His family, Lucy, his mother, the vile Stevie, none of them had known until days later.

She sat down at the table and cried.

After a while she knew she couldn’t stay in. She went up to her room and put her swimsuit on under her clothes and put her beach mat and towel in a bag. It was chilly, she knew, but the sea would clear her head.

She headed for the esplanade, avoiding going anywhere near the tourist information office. The beach was almost empty; just some couples walking along and a family still digging sandcastles, the children fully dressed, perhaps having a treat after a day at school. She walked along until she found an area that was empty and laid out her beach mat. She got undressed and felt the sharp breeze nipping at her skin. The best thing was to run into the water, to get the shock of the cold over and done with quickly. She hesitated though. The sea pulsed before her, the water swinging back and forth. The surface was pitted with white and looked ragged and unwelcoming.

She carefully picked her way down the beach, the shingle digging into the soles of her feet.

She stood for a second and let a wave wash across her toes. Then she started running. She sank one clumsy foot after another into the hard wet sand, her toes catching the edges of stones, the side of her foot feeling the scratch of something thorny, and then with a dive she broke the surface of the sea and went under. For a few seconds she heard nothing; with her arms and legs tight together she propelled herself like a marine creature through the dark water and then surfaced, letting out an exclamation of shock at the cold.

She swam, one stroke after another, keeping her face down in the water, sensing the taste of salt in her mouth. When she was tired she stopped and rested. She trod water.

The beach and the esplanade looked far away.

Somewhere in the hinterland was the house she lived in with Sally and Ruth. Beyond that was the university. Beyond that was the rest of her life; the places she would go, the jobs she might have, the family she might build.

Jennifer Jones, child killer.

Would she ever be able to leave that headline behind?

She swam back and got out of the water, gingerly, taking care not to hurt her feet. She walked across the sand and picked her towel up and put it round her shoulders. Trembling with cold she sat down on the mat and stared along the beach. A couple were walking along the edge of the waves. Her eyes stayed on them as they got closer to her. In between them was a young child. They were holding his hands and every now and then they gave the child a swing in the air. The child was laughing and shouting
More, more, do it again, Dad! Mum, swing again!
The couple were young, the woman not much older than Jennifer.

They smiled at her as they passed.

Jennifer put her T-shirt on over her damp costume. Soon she would go home. It was only a ten-minute walk and she could have a hot shower and get changed.

She didn’t move though. In the distance she could see the Starcross ferry making its way out of the harbour. She watched it until it disappeared.

A beeping sound came from her phone. She pulled it out of her bag. No doubt Sally was worried at seeing the vegetable casserole ready but no Jennifer anywhere around. She looked at the screen and was surprised to see the name
Jimmy Fuller
. She opened the text.

I don’t care what you did in your past. I just like you now xxx

She felt a lump in her throat and held the phone for a long time, staring at the words. She sent a reply.

Thank you xxx

Moments later there came another text. She opened it.

I want to see you, tonight, now xxx

She was suddenly full of emotion. She stifled a sob.

She could meet him in a pub or she could go to his house. Why not? They could laze about on the bed, watch DVDs, or he could cook something. She could do that now because he
knew
who it was he was seeing, he was under no illusions about her. There were tears in her eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her hand and sent another text, her fingers slipping off the keys, having to backspace a couple of times to get it right.

I’d love to. Where are you?

She pulled her jeans on and shoved her sandy feet into her shoes. She could be home and changed and out again in less than thirty minutes. There was another beep. She grabbed for her phone. She opened the message.

Right behind you xx

She swung round and saw him there, on the esplanade, sitting on a bench, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his phone in his hand.

She rolled up her beach mat and picked up her towel. She put them both into her bag and walked towards him.

Anne Cassidy

Anne Cassidy lived in London fo
r most of her life. She was a teacher for twenty years. In 1989 she started writing books for teenagers. Her first book was published in 1991 and since then she has published over forty books, thirty of which have been teen novels. She writes crime fiction and is best known for her book Looking for JJ, which was shortlisted for the Whitbread Award 2004 and the Carnegie Medal 2005. She has one son and currently lives in Essex.

www.annecassidy.com

@annecassidy6

First published in Great Britain in 2014 by Hot Key Books

Northburgh House, 10 Northburgh Street, London EC1V 0AT

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 978-1-4714-0229-6

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