Ask laura, p.12
Ask Laura, page 12
‘How do you know, you hardly ever see her these days!’ We were shouting at each other and getting absolutely nowhere. ‘Look, we’ve just checked her room, and she’s taken clothes with her, so it at least looks like she isn’t thinking about suicide.’ I took a deep breath.
‘Well, the most likely place to look is probably at this boyfriend’s place. Where does he live?’ Paul asked. My embarrassment must have shown in my face.
‘You don’t know, do you?’ Paul looked at me with contempt.
‘And neither do you! She said he was on holiday, remember, so we haven’t been able to arrange a time to meet him yet.’ It sounded a pathetic excuse, even to me.
‘If you have a name, I could get someone at the station to run it through the computer to see if we can find an address,’ Steve offered.
‘It’s Brad Johnson. Lucy said he has a flat and it can’t be too far away. She’s been going there instead of school recently.’ As I spoke, I was aware of Paul rolling his eyes. Choosing to ignore him, I watched as Steve took out his phone and began to thumb the numbers. He moved away to speak as the boys came in, followed by an anxious-looking Janet and Bob.
‘You didn’t need to come round,’ Paul greeted them.
‘Of course we did! Laura needs as much support as she can get at a time like this,’ Janet chastised and then turned to me.
‘Is there any news yet?’
‘No. I’ve rung round Lucy’s friends with no luck, but she’s taken some clothes which at least suggests she has some kind of plan. Steve’s ringing a colleague now to try to find her boyfriend’s address.’
‘But isn’t he on holiday?’ Bob asked.
‘That’s what Lucy said, but I’m inclined to think it was a convenient lie to put us off meeting him.’
Janet nodded towards Steve. ‘So, are the police officially involved?’
‘No, you can’t report someone as missing until some time has elapsed. Lucy’s sixteen too, so legally, she has the right to leave home.’ Even speaking the words seemed so wrong; at sixteen she was still a child. Steve came back towards us.
‘Right, I have an address and it’s not far away. I can be there in twenty minutes or so.’
‘Hang on a minute.’ Paul raised his hand as if trying to silence Steve. ‘If anyone is going, it’ll be me. She’s my daughter.’
‘And mine too!’ I wouldn’t be left out of this either.
‘If a police officer turned up on his doorstep, this Brad would be more likely to co-operate,’ Steve explained. I nodded – it made sense – even Paul would have to agree.
‘Do you think he’s holding her against her will?’ Janet asked.
‘No, I don’t, but you never know what to expect,’ Steve answered.
Eventually, it was decided, Paul, Steve and I would all go, but Paul insisted on taking his car. I hadn’t a clue what to expect and only hoped Lucy was there and would agree to come home with us. As to what we’d say when we found her, again I hadn’t the slightest idea and suspected Paul too would be out of his depth.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Brad Johnson’s address, although not far away, was in an area I’d never been to before. We drove into an estate comprised of several tower blocks and one of the first things which struck me was that there were no trees or grass verges to be seen anywhere; a veritable concrete jungle. Youngsters rode around the flats on bikes or skateboards, shouting to each other in language, which at their age, they shouldn’t even know. Was my daughter really here with her boyfriend, and if so, what was the attraction? We pulled up in front of a block covered with graffiti, like most others around it. The smell of urine greeted us as we climbed a ramp, heading for the lift. Unsurprisingly the lift was broken and I was thankful Brad’s flat was on the fourth floor rather than the tenth. Paul strode out ahead, determined to be the first to get there, although I was sure he would have no more idea than me of how to play this scenario out.
The door to flat 410 had been damaged at some point and poorly repaired, with cardboard covering an area where presumably one of the glass panels had been. I’m not overly house-proud, but the dirt on the front door alone appalled me, giving me the ridiculous urge to reach for some Cif and a pair of rubber gloves. Paul knocked briskly and then rubbed his hand down the side of his jeans. There was no answer. A second knock didn’t register either. Steve moved to the window and cupped his hand against the glass to peer inside the flat.
‘There’s someone in. I saw movement.’
Paul knocked even harder, but it was clear visitors were not welcome. Steve opened the letter box and shouted through, ‘Johnson, it’s the police! Open up will you?’ A sound from inside grew louder until finally, the door opened a fraction. Steve immediately put his foot on the step so the door couldn’t be shut in his face.
‘Brad Johnson?’ he asked.
‘What do you want him for?’ the surly young man asked.
‘Are you Brad?’
‘Yes, why?’
Paul was itching to take control of the situation and edged nearer the door as if he intended pushing his way inside. The sight of this person horrified me. He must have been well into his twenties, unshaven in a lazy, rather than a trendy way and wearing only dirty jeans with his chest bare. As much as I wanted to find Lucy, I began to hope she wasn’t inside this awful flat with him.
Steve remained calm and asked, ‘Is Lucy here?’
‘What if she is?’
‘We’d like to speak to her; these are her parents. Let us come in, Brad. We don’t want things to get out of hand, do we?’ Reluctantly Brad stepped aside to allow us access. I was suddenly grateful for Steve’s presence and the calm, authoritative way he handled things. Had Paul and me been alone, Brad probably wouldn’t even have answered the door. Once inside I wanted to retch! Torn brown curtains covered the window, blocking any natural light and making the room appear dark and gloomy. The floor was covered with a filthy, brown, patterned carpet which looked as if it had been down since the flat was built. A huge television filled one corner, almost obscured by empty beer cans and discarded crisp packets littered on the unit on which it stood. My eye was drawn to the old, worn sofa at the far wall, where my daughter sat, legs curled up beneath her as if attempting to be invisible. She held a grubby green cushion in front of her, for comfort or protection, it wasn’t clear. Instinctively I ran towards her but was stopped by the expression on her face.
Our presence was so obviously unwelcome and I honestly didn’t know how to deal with the situation. My beautiful sixteen-year-old daughter had chosen to be in this squat, for it’s what it seemed to be, with this man who was far too old for her. Several thoughts crowded my mind, which I could barely process. Why would she prefer a place like this instead of the clean, comfortable home in which she’d grown up? What was he thinking about by having a relationship with such a young girl, who was still only a child? I froze just a few feet away from my daughter. Paul, on the other hand, pushed past me, ordering her to come home immediately. Even I could see this was overkill and would almost certainly have a negative effect. As Paul reached out to pull Lucy from the sofa, she wrestled out of his grasp.
‘Go away, will you! Can’t you just leave me alone?’ Her face was contorted with annoyance and embarrassment. She desperately wanted to control her own life but was far too young to understand the mistake she was making.
Steve had been talking quietly to Brad, but when Paul began to get physical, he turned his attention to him.
‘Perhaps we could talk this through, Paul. Get Lucy’s perspective on the situation and see if we can come to some agreement.’
‘Don’t you tell me how to treat my daughter! She’s coming home, now – that’s all there is to it!’
‘I’m not going anywhere; I want to stay here!’ Angry tears streamed down Lucy’s face.
I took a couple of steps forward and perched on the edge of the sofa beside her, not daring to touch her but simply to ask, ‘Is this really what you want, Lucy?’
‘Yes!’ she sobbed. ‘Why can’t you just go away and leave me alone?’
Paul began to remonstrate again but Steve put his hand on his arm.
‘We need to talk it through, not force the issue,’ he said gently, and he was right.
For a moment, I thought Paul was going to hit him, but he restrained himself, then turned abruptly and left the flat with the parting words, ‘Fine, then you sort it out!’
In some ways, I understood his anger and felt the same, but even greater was the pain of knowing Lucy would choose this grubby flat and a man as coarse as Brad Johnson instead of our home and me. The atmosphere changed when Paul left. There was slightly less tension. My eyes were growing accustomed to the gloomy lighting, and I could now get a good look at my daughter’s chosen boyfriend. He could have been anywhere in his twenties, with lank, greasy hair and an unremarkable face. He was short, about the same height as Lucy, with a slim build. Down the left side of his chest was a tattoo. The design was intricate and I had no desire to move any closer to inspect it, but it appeared to be some kind of snake, coiled from just below Brad’s armpit, down to his hip. I could also make out several piercings in both nostrils and around the top of his ears. Steve gently ushered Brad into the kitchen, leaving me alone with my daughter.
‘Lucy, I was beside myself when I found your note! Whatever makes you think we’d be better off without you?’ I didn’t wait for a reply. ‘I love you, the boys love you, and so does Dad. This isn’t the place for you. Surely you can see.’ I didn’t simply mean the flat itself, but it was how Lucy interpreted my words.
‘We’re going to sort it out.’ She spoke defensively, her chin rising as if in defiance. ‘Brad’s getting the paint on Monday when his money comes through, and then we’ll decorate and make something of it.’
I simply nodded. How could I get Lucy to see what a colossal mistake she was making?
‘Won’t you come home with me now so we can talk about it? Perhaps, if you continue to see Brad without living here, you’ll not be under so much pressure. Let’s take it slowly and talk about it some more. If you like, Brad can visit you at home, then your dad and I will have a chance to get to know him.’ My whole body was trembling, knowing if I said the wrong thing, I risked losing my daughter completely, something too horrendous to contemplate! But Lucy didn’t want to lose face; the dilemma was reflected in her eyes. Maybe, loathsome as it was, I might have to leave her here and work things out from a distance. We couldn’t afford to alienate her altogether, and if it meant taking things slowly, then so be it.
I asked once more, ‘Will you come home, Lucy?’ She was so obviously torn but slowly shook her head. I swallowed hard to suppress the sobs which were threatening to engulf me.
‘Then will you bring Brad round tomorrow for lunch, so we can get to know him better?’
Lucy seemed surprised at the suggestion and answered in a whisper, ‘I’ll ask him.’
Steve and Brad came back through from the kitchen. It didn’t take much imagination to picture what it was like, and the rest of the flat, too.
‘Lucy,’ Steve said, ‘Brad says you’re here by choice, but I need to hear it from you. Are you here because you want to be, or do you feel threatened or intimidated in any way?’
‘Of course I’m here because I want to be! Brad didn’t force me to come – he’s not like that. He cares for me and I’m happy with him.’
Steve seemed convinced she was speaking the truth. He turned to me.
‘We can’t make her come home, Laura. Can you accept that?’ I nodded, exhausted and upset, then stood to leave.
‘Give me a ring, Lucy, about tomorrow, yes?’ She nodded and I followed Steve out of the flat. We descended the stairs in silence to find Paul was waiting beside the car.
‘So all your fancy words didn’t get her to come home then?’ His tone was sarcastic, but it was unclear if his comments were directed to Steve or me.
‘Legally, there’s nothing we can do to make her come home, and after speaking to them both, I’m satisfied Lucy’s there of her own free will. Being heavy-handed isn’t the way forward here.’ We drove back in silence, having failed, but at least we knew Lucy was okay; if we hadn’t found her, I’d have gone mad with worry. My daughter was alive and relatively safe – I could cope with that for the time being.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Paul refused to come in when we arrived home, not even to see his parents or the boys. He was sulking, an unpleasant trait which had occasionally surfaced when we were married, but he insisted I ring him to keep him informed of any developments. I didn’t need to be reminded. He was Lucy’s father and had a right to know. Of course I would keep him in the loop. Paul appeared to be blaming me for the situation, which, as I was blaming myself too, did little for my self-esteem. As he drove away, Janet came hurrying out to meet us, her face a picture of anxiety.
‘She’s okay, Janet.’ I forced a smile. ‘Let’s get in out of the cold and I’ll tell you everything.’ The snow was falling again, creating such a beautiful, crisp scene in contrast to what was, for me, such an ugly day. Janet disappeared into the kitchen, the place where she felt most comfortable, returning shortly with a tray of tea. My mother-in-law believes there is not much in life which cannot be sorted out with a good cup of tea. Steve seemed to be quite comfortable in my home too, a fact which hadn’t gone unnoticed, not only by me but by Janet too. Bob had taken the boys to football practice, yet there was a fair chance they would be back early with the weather being so bad. I wanted to ask Steve so many questions, so when we were settled with our tea, I took my chance.
‘Can Lucy stay with Brad if she wants to, or is there a court order or something similar which we could use to bring her back home?’ He shook his head slowly, concern in his eyes.
‘Because she’s sixteen, legally she can choose to live wherever she wants. The exceptions aren’t applicable here. We could only bring her home if she were in some way vulnerable or if Brad was on the sex offenders register.’
Janet gasped. Her mouth dropped wide open as Steve’s words sank in.
‘It’s okay, Janet. When I rang in to find Brad’s address, I also asked for any other information we might have on him. His name isn’t on our system for anything other than a speeding offence, which was a couple of years ago, so he’s clean.’
Janet sighed audibly, pleased her granddaughter wasn’t living with some kind of monster or drug dealer. I echoed her sigh. Steve’s involvement in my family’s problems brought a degree of sanity. His down-to-earth common sense and knowledge of the law helped me look more objectively at this latest catastrophe.
‘Who would decide if Lucy is vulnerable or not?’ I asked, grasping at straws and hoping we could somehow make her come home.
‘I know what you’re thinking, Laura, but sadly Lucy doesn’t fit into any category which would give you leverage. If she had special needs or a life-limiting disability, there would be grounds for declaring her vulnerable. But she’s a bright girl and so there’s nothing we can do. Besides, forcing her into coming home will almost certainly have a negative effect. Maintaining contact with her is paramount in such a situation and the best way forward for now. If you try to force her into anything, you’ll lose the ongoing dialogue you’ve established now, and probably your daughter too.’
They were harsh words to hear, but I did not doubt Steve was right. Janet still looked horrified and asked about Brad and his flat. Not wishing to upset her, I played it down to some extent, but she probably realised how bad it was from what I didn’t say.
Our conversation was interrupted as Bob came through the door with the twins. He looked at me, an unspoken question in his expression, and I was able to reassure him and the boys we knew where Lucy was and she was quite safe.
‘Football’s off.’ Sam was unhappy. ‘A bit of snow shouldn’t make any difference, but they called it off anyway, wimps! What time’s dinner, Mum?’
‘It’s hardly a couple of hours since breakfast, Sam; you should still be full of pancakes.’ Sighing, he shrugged, and both boys ran upstairs to their rooms.
‘We’ll be off now, Laura, but you know where we are if you need us.’ Janet reached for her coat.
‘Thank you so much. I don’t know where I’d be without you two – you’re amazing.’ I meant every word. They were such a support, and I was genuinely grateful. When they left, with warm hugs and words of love, Steve stood to go too.
‘Won’t you stay for lunch? It’s the least I can do after all the help you’ve given.’ I didn’t want him to go.
‘Officially, I’m still on duty and although I’d love to stay, perhaps another time?’ His smile made me believe he meant what he said.
‘Of course, I’d forgotten you were working. If it hadn’t been for you, Brad probably wouldn’t even have opened the door. Thank you, Steve, you’re very kind.’ There was so much more I wanted to say, to ask him why he was so kind to me, to find out if he felt the same way about me as I did about him, which was laughable really, but he left and the words were unspoken.
The day seemed interminable. I kept my phone in the pocket of my jeans, hoping Lucy would ring and tell me she and Brad would come for lunch the next day. The call never came and I didn’t dare phone her. Steve’s wise words about not forcing the issue and keeping a dialogue open rang in my ears. There must be a middle ground. Perhaps I could ring her in the morning under the pretext of needing to know how many I was cooking for?
The rest of the day seemed to drag. I was fearful and jumpy, reacting to even the slightest noise in the house. The problems with Lucy, coupled with the vicious letters, were almost too much to bear, but what could I do? The safety of my family was paramount and I would keep going purely for them. I longed for this all to be over, for normality to return, but it was not in my power to alter things. It was a waiting game, but the fear of what would happen next at times threatened to overwhelm me.
