Page 51 of Vengeance is Mine

‘She certainly liked Newcastle United,’ I said, with a laugh in my voice.

‘You could say that. Football mad. It’s strange, you’re only the third person to come in here in twenty years.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. Harry rarely comes in. It’s usually just me. From time to time, I get a bit maudlin, and I like to sit on the bed, look around and remember Stephanie how she was.’

‘She was very pretty.’ I picked up a framed picture on the desk.

‘She really was. Lovely big eyes.’ She sat down on the bed and picked up the pillow, squeezing it to her chest.

‘Why did you want me to see the room?’

‘I don’t know. But I feel I can understand what you’re doing. You’ve just found out who your father is, what he’s done, and you’re trying to make sense of it. What he did was pure evil, and I don’t mind saying that I wish we still had the death penalty. Sorry if that’s hard for you to hear, but he ripped apart my life. You being here, though, is a comfort to me in a strange way. I understand that you’re just trying to work everything out and none of the blame lies at your feet. We’re both victims in a way; I feel for you, love. There’s a lot about the case online, I’ve often looked myself, but only a few people know the real Stephanie. I think it’s important for you to know more about her than her just being a murder victim.’

‘Do you mind if I sit down?’

‘No, of course not.’

I sat next to her on the bed. ‘It’s a sad fact that the victims are often forgotten. We all remember the names of killers like Jack the Ripper, Myra Hindley, Fred West and Peter Sutcliffe, but it’s the victims who should be remembered. The killers, the evil murderers, should be left to rot.’

I looked around the room and tried to picture Stephanie in here, listening to music, reading a football programme. I couldn’t feel any presence, but just imagining what she would have been doing in here made me smile.

‘Tell me about Stephanie.’

Barbara’s face lit up. It was obvious she’d been waiting for me to ask her.

‘She was a wonderful child,’ she said softly. Her eyes glistened with tears. ‘She never gave us an ounce of bother. She was bright, always smiling. She played in goal for the school football team, the first female ever.’ Barbara beamed with pride, then she chuckled.

‘What is it?’ I found myself smiling.

‘I remember going to see her in a game once. It was absolutely bloody freezing. Me and Harry stood on the sidelines. I don’t think either of us saw the game – we were just watching Stephanie in goal. It was hardly a World Cup match, but she took it incredibly seriously. I kept telling her it was all in fun, but she and Harry didn’t agree. Every game was do or die. Anyway, something happened, I don’t know what, as I’m not up on the rules, and the other team was awarded a free kick. Stephanie, at the top of her voice, shouted, “There’s no way that’s a free kick, you wanker.” I was mortified. All the other parents turned to stare at me. I’m sure I went bright red. Harry couldn’t hold his laughter for long, and soon, all the parents were laughing. Well, the men were. I certainly had a few words with her that night,’ Barbara said. Despite her daughter swearing at the referee in front of her parents, there was a hint of a smile on Barbara’s face. The memory it brought back was of a passionate girl, full of life, enjoying herself.

‘Barbara, in the car on the way over, you said that Dominic hadn’t only killed Stephanie, but your mum and sister, too. What did you mean?’

Barbara sniffed and wiped away her tears. ‘As I’m sure you can imagine, Stephanie going missing and then being found dead consumed us all. Everything else went out of the window.’ She took a deep breath. ‘My sister, Angela, she was younger than me. She couldn’t have children, and she doted on Stephanie. When she was killed, Angela went to pieces. Well, we all did. But it hit Angela hard. By the time she noticed a lump on her breast, it was too late to do anything about it. The cancer quickly spread, and she was dead by the end of the summer.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said to fill the heavy silence.

‘My dad died when I was young, so my mother brought me and Angela up on her own. Losing her granddaughter and her daughter in such a short space of time destroyed my mum. Less than a month after Angela’s funeral, my mum went to bed and didn’t wake up again the next morning. A severe heart attack, the coroner said, but we all knew she died of a broken heart.’

‘Oh my God,’ I said, deflated, my head bowed. ‘That must have been…’ I had no words.

‘I lost my daughter, my sister and my mum within the space of a few months. It was the hardest time of my life.’

I shook my head.

We sat in silence for a long time. I looked around the room at pictures of Stephanie in her school football kit, in action, posing for a team photograph, at the soft toys and posters of Alan Shearer on the wall.

‘Barbara, I’m so sorry. And to think my father was responsible for it all. I just want everything to be better, but I have so much I need to work out and understand. I have a dilemma,’ I began. ‘I’m sure you’ve heard about this Fenadine drug that Dominic was taking at the time he killed Stephanie. His solicitor is using its side effects as a defence…’

‘I heard. It makes me sick,’ she said, with venom.

‘The thing is, say the evidence is there that Dominic did kill Stephanie, even though he perhaps wasn’t in control of his own mind. How can I accept him as my father, knowing that he actually did commit murder?’

Barbara let out a heavy sigh. ‘That is not an easy question to answer. However, you’re in a better position to answer it objectively now than if you’d known your father before he went to prison. At this stage, you’ve never met him. You don’t have any feelings towards him because you don’t know him as a person. Yes, he’s your father, but you can still walk away and not be hurt any more than you already are.’

‘But he’d always be in here.’ I tapped the side of my head.

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