Escape From Evil (6 page)

So anything she did, I didn’t judge. Anything she said, anywhere she went, anyone she spoke to – it was all fine by me. Me and Mum, the old team, were back together. I really couldn’t have been happier.

Having Mum around during the week meant I didn’t mind so much when she went out in the evenings. Without work the next day, however, she wasn’t just limited to Fridays and Saturdays. It might be a Wednesday one week, or Monday, Thursday – you name it. There was no pattern that I could see. She would just announce she was going out, then Granny or Grandpa would arrive to pick me up or we’d catch a bus to their bungalow in Tremola Avenue. I didn’t know who Mum went out with or where to, but I do know it always ended the same way: Granny would take me home the following morning and tut-tut as a bleary-eyed Mum let us in, while I would give her the biggest hug I could muster and skip happily indoors, calling out, ‘Bye, Granny, see you later’ as I disappeared into the small lounge.

I was aware of Granny’s attitude towards Mum’s partying, but not affected by it. She certainly never criticized her daughter in front of me. All my life Granny had been stern, if loving, so her attitude didn’t particularly stand out, just as any change in Mum’s behaviour didn’t really register on my radar. To me, she was just Mum being Mum. Whatever she did was ‘normal’ for us. There was no need for explanation. That was who she was, that was how she was. I didn’t care. I loved her every which way. I was every inch the doting daughter. I completely trusted her judgements – as hard as it sometimes was.

I don’t remember what day it was or whether it was morning, noon or night. But I do remember Mum was smoking as usual and I was teasing the cat with a ball of string. I was blissfully happy, actually. Nothing could spoil my day. The voices at the front door soon put a stop to that.

Suddenly there was a ferocious knocking and a deep, loud voice called out, ‘Police. Open up!’

I’d never seen Mum move so fast! She came flying out of her chair and dived into the small bathroom. A few seconds later she emerged, no longer smoking. Then she grabbed something from her pocket and thrust it into my hands. It was some sort of plastic package.

‘Put it in the panda!’ she hissed through gritted teeth. Her eyes were wide. She was obviously terrified about something.

I was too stunned to move. Realizing Mum was scared was like a kick in the stomach.

That’s not how it’s meant to be.

‘Put it in the panda!’ she said again, and this time shoved me towards the bedroom, where my stuffed arcade toy was lying on my bed. At the same time she darted to a window and, grabbing a copy of the free newspaper, started waving fresh air into the room.

All of this took place in the space of ten seconds. At eleven seconds there was another crashing knock.

‘Open up or we’ll open it for you.’

Regaining her composure, Mum patted down her clothes, did a quick fiddle with her hair and called out, ‘I’m coming, I’m coming.’

That cheered me up. It couldn’t be so bad if she was worrying about her appearance.

Checking that I was back in the lounge, Mum flicked the bolt and opened the door. Standing there were four of the biggest men I’d ever seen. Framed by the doorway, they were giants in police uniforms. To my young eyes, I’d never seen anything more scary.

‘Jennifer Wilson?’ one of the policemen asked.

Mum nodded. ‘What can I do for you?’ she asked quietly. I think that sudden burst of activity had taken it out of her.

The policeman stared over her shoulder at me and the room.

‘Do you mind if we take a look around?’ he asked.

‘Do I have a choice?’ Mum said.

‘None at all,’ he said, and showed her a piece of paper. ‘We have a warrant to search your premises for narcotic substances.’

I saw Mum’s shoulders sag and instinctively ran over to wrap my arms around her waist. I hadn’t understood half the things the constable had said, but I could feel Mum shaking. Whatever he’d said had rocked her, that much was obvious.

Resigned to whatever it said on that piece of paper, Mum stood back and watched as the four of them marched into our tiny flat. While three of them hung around the doorway, a fourth powered straight into the bedroom. He emerged a few seconds later clutching my stuffed panda!

I couldn’t help gasping. I had no idea what I’d tucked inside him, but it was enough to know Mum wanted it hidden. I had a crushing sense of failing her. Panic washed over me.
I must have done something wrong.
There was no other explanation.

I stared, open-mouthed, as the policeman unzipped the back of the bear and stuffed his hand inside. Moments later, a smile broke out on his face.

‘What do we have here then?’ he said theatrically, and pulled out the little plastic pouch.

I genuinely had no idea what it was, but it was obviously what the lead officer had been expecting to find. He took one look at the package, had a quick sniff, then said to Mum, ‘Jennifer Wilson, you are under arrest.’

It all happened so fast. One minute I’d been tormenting the cat, the next four burly policemen were terrorizing Mum. And then, within the blink of an eye, it seemed, we were all sitting in the back of a police car. Me, Mum and Mr Panda. With the sirens wailing above our heads, for all I knew, this was the end of my freedom forever. Would I ever see our home, our cat, our family again? I looked at Mum. Her face was blank, staring ahead. No answers there.

Oh, Mum
, I thought.
What have you done?

It felt like the end of the world. Little did I realize this was the lull before the storm. Compared to who would be knocking on our door soon, the police’s visit seemed like a beautiful dream.

FOUR

A lot of children dream of riding in a speeding police car, blue lights illuminating the night sky, sirens clearing other traffic out of its path. I was never one of those kids. Policemen always looked so intimidating and scary. The last place I ever wanted to be was cooped up inside a cop car with two of them. Normally I would have been happy anywhere, as long as Mum was with me. Not this time. I’d never seen her look so down, so shattered. So out of it.

I suppose we were taken to Brighton police station. I didn’t recognize the building, for obvious reasons, but I remember that everything inside was pale grey or blue and so shiny. The desks, walls and floors all had that nasty, hard gloss finish. They took Mum one way and me another – and Mr Panda somewhere else entirely. A policewoman came over and showed me into a small office with a desk and two chairs. As soon as Mum was out of sight, the floodgates opened. Mum had been so scared at the flat and I was desperate to see her again, to give her a hug. That would make everything all right.

The policewoman was lovely though. She put her arm around me, said she’d find me a nice cup of juice and told me everything would be all right. I had no reason to doubt her.

‘Where’s Mum?’ I asked.

‘She’s helping my colleagues.’ The WPC’s smile was warm. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

‘Helping them do what?’

‘Oh, they’re just asking your mother a few questions, that’s all.’

‘Can I ask
you
a question?’

My police babysitter couldn’t have looked more pleased.

‘Fire away,’ she said.

‘How did you know to look in the panda?’

The policewoman chuckled. ‘Oh, it wasn’t any magic, if that’s what you’re wondering,’ she said. ‘One of the officers was peering through the letterbox and saw everything.’

‘Oh,’ I said. What else was there to say?

We sat there in silence for a couple of minutes. Every time I tried to say something, the policewoman looked over from the other side of the desk, then away again as no words came out. Finally, I said, ‘I’ve got another question.’

‘Okay.’

‘Will we be allowed to leave soon?’

‘Yes, very soon.’

‘You won’t lock Mum up?’

‘Not today, no.’

That was all I’d wanted to hear.

‘Good.’

The policewoman smiled again. I could almost see a thought forming in her mind.

‘How would you like to have your fingerprints taken?’

Fingerprints? Like a criminal? I’d heard about that. That was how the police caught robbers and baddies.

‘Yes please!’

‘Come on then,’ she said, and led me out of the room.

It had been terrifying being driven through town to the police station. Partly because I didn’t know what we’d done wrong. Mainly, though, because I was worried about what would happen to Mum. On the way home it was a different matter. I couldn’t wait to tell Mum all about my fingerprints and she was lapping it up. When I showed her the black smudges on my thumb, she held her own hand up.

‘Snap!’

I hadn’t seen Mum laugh like that in ages. She didn’t seem tired for once, or distracted. I didn’t know what the police had said, but it was good to have her back.

The mood soon altered when we got home. Mum had called Granny and Grandpa from the station and they were waiting in their car as we pulled up. From the looks on their faces, they weren’t happy. As soon as we stepped through the front door Grandpa wanted to know the full story. They were whispering on the other side of the lounge, but I could tell they were talking about the package and the panda. I think Mum tried to deny everything at first because her dad raised his voice.

‘So the police came all the way round here for that tiny little packet?’ Grandpa said.

Mum nodded.

‘They sent four officers for that?’

Another nod.

‘Well, it seems a bit heavy-handed to me,’ he concluded. ‘Are you sure you’re telling me the full story?’

Mum was adamant, but you could tell from Grandpa’s face that he didn’t believe her.

‘It’s like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut,’ I heard him tell Granny as they left.

Like so many things, it was only years later that I appreciated how deeply this latest episode must have upset Mum’s parents. After three or so years of relative quiet they’d dared to hope she was going to settle down and, if she couldn’t win Daughter of the Year, at least be a responsible adult at last. Apparently not. But what was she doing getting involved with the police? Hadn’t she brought enough shame on the family? And why did it have to be drugs?

This was all kept from me. I knew nothing of the marijuana Mum had been smoking openly around the house for months. I knew nothing of her history with Yellow Dollies, or of how she’d sworn to Grandpa years ago that drugs would never be a problem again. All I saw were the angry exchanges between them, and that just made me sad.

The fallout from the police’s visit didn’t end at the
froideur
between Mum and her parents. A short while later, maybe a couple of days, there was another knock on the door. I swear my heart stopped.

The police have come to take Mum again!

Then I noticed Mum wasn’t surprised. I didn’t know if she was expecting the call or whether she just had nothing to hide this time. There was no panic, no rushing around trying to flush things down the toilet. Just a resigned sigh as she made her way over to the door.

The relief I felt when she flung it open and I saw a man and a woman in suits waiting for her.
They don’t look like police.
But I wasn’t sure. I’d seen people in normal clothes when I was at the station.

The visitors came in. They said hello to me and Mum explained they’d come to talk about me. Specifically, why I wasn’t going to school.

It was all pretty good-natured. Mum made them tea and nodded a lot while they spoke to her. I didn’t follow most of it. When they finally left, everyone was smiling. The second the door closed, however, Mum’s face changed.

‘Pack your things,’ she said. ‘We’re leaving.’

Looking back, I can’t decide if I was spectacularly dim or just a normal kid. I think it was the latter. We’re all brought up to think that Mother knows best, aren’t we? Whatever happened, that’s genuinely what I thought. She was the one constant in my life. Of course I was going to believe what she said and support what she did. Even when it was obviously so ridiculous . . .

We didn’t have much, but when you have to cart it all onto a bus, it can seem like a hell of a lot. We must have made two trips to our new home in May Road. All I really remember is that by the time we’d finished, I was standing in a new hallway in a new block in a new part of town. The landlady had just left and Mum smiled as she put her latest front-door key down on the little kitchen table.

‘Home sweet home, Cathy.’

She never explained why we’d run away so suddenly, but I guessed it had something to do with our smart-looking visitors. What had they said to her that made her so scared? And why did they say I had to go to school? That was up to Mum, wasn’t it? She was in charge.

That’s genuinely what I thought. It just didn’t enter my mind that Mum would be flouting the law. To this day, I still don’t know why she was so against me going. Was it laziness? Or had her own experiences scarred her so much she didn’t want to put me through it? All I can really surmise is that by disappearing from our old address, she hoped the social workers – as I learnt they were called – wouldn’t be able to find us. But, God, I wish I knew what she was thinking.