Page 53 of Vengeance is Mine

I opened the car door, just after he passed by.

‘Terry,’ I called, but there was no reaction. He either hadn’t heard me, or he was purposely ignoring me. ‘Terry!’ I shouted louder.

He stopped and looked back over his left shoulder. ‘I had a feeling you’d wait for me.’

‘I wasn’t aware I was so predictable,’ I said, with a nervous smile.

‘You know, you’ve really upset Harry and Barbara. They’re like a second family to me.’

‘I’m sorry. It was never my intention to upset them.’

‘Then what was your intention?’

‘I… To be honest, I don’t know. Barbara taught me at school when I was doing my GCSEs. She was my favourite teacher. I really admired her. When I found out who my father was, what he’d done, I felt… I don’t know. I felt like maybe she should know.’

‘And what’s all this about a girl seeing Stephanie on the day she disappeared?’

‘Ah. She told you?’

‘Yes. Are you making this up?’

‘What?’ I asked, astonished.

‘Is this some cruel trick you’re playing to get your father pardoned?’

‘No, it isn’t. Look, I haven’t even met my dad yet, and I don’t know if I’m going to. I’m trying to decide if I want him in my life or not. He’s always denied killing Stephanie. He was taking a drug that shouldn’t have even been on the market. He didn’t know his own mind.’ I wondered why I was defending him all of a sudden, but Terry’s face kept getting darker the more I did.

‘Look.’ Terry grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me to the edge of the road. We stood toe to toe, and he lowered his voice as he leaned down. ‘Harry and Barbara have been through a great deal over the years. The last thing they need is some amateur Jane Tennison thinking she can uncover a miscarriage of justice. Dominic Griffiths killed their daughter. Your father is a murderer, and the sooner you accept that the better. Now, if I find out you’ve been here hassling them again, I will have an injunction slapped on you so fast you won’t see it coming. Do you understand?’

I winced under the pain of Terry’s grip.

‘I said, do you understand?’ he repeated through gritted teeth, gripping my arm firmer.

‘Perfectly,’ I said quietly.

‘Good. Now, piss off home and get on with the rest of your life, and stay away from here.’

He let go, pushing me backwards, before turning on his heels and striding away.

I rubbed my arm, shocked and trying to catch my breath. I watched him retreat into the distance before turning back to my car. I could understand him being protective of Harry and Barbara, but there was no need for him to be so aggressive.

Chapter Twenty-One

It was another cold night. I sent a fourth email to my landlord about my heating not working, but I wasn’t hoping for a reply. He never replied. One day, in the height of summer, I was sure an engineer would turn up to mess around with the boiler, hit it with a spanner and say it was working fine. Then, come winter, I’d turn it on, and nothing.

I steamed a chicken breast and had it with a few vegetables. It was time I ate more healthily and made a real effort to lose some weight. I wouldn’t mind getting down to a size fourteen by the summer, maybe twelve by Christmas. It was an achievable goal and one that would require minimal change to my day-to-day life. I was up for the challenge.

By eight o’clock, I was hungry. I had a box of Maltesers in the freezer. It would be a shame to leave them until they were past their best and had to be thrown out. I’d properly start my diet once all the chocolates and biscuits had gone, and I wouldn’t replace them.

Sitting up in bed with the box of Maltesers open next to me, I pulled the duvet up around me to keep warm and continued to make my way through my grandmother’s diaries.

I picked up where I’d left off and read about another miscarriage. It was sad reading of her desperation to get pregnant. All she wanted was to be a wife and a mother. She had no intention of being a career-driven woman. She didn’t want to run marathons or climb mountains. Her only aim in life had been to get married, live in a nice house and fill it with kids. Unfortunately, the kids bit hadn’t happened.

Then, in 1981, Dominic came along. The first few entries after his arrival were about how blissfully happy she was being a mother, and how it wasn’t too late for her to have more. The journals were filled with photos of a smiling happy baby and beaming parents. It seemed that Dominic was the perfect baby. He ate well and slept through the night. Motherhood was a breeze. His formative years went without a hitch. There was no mention of the stories Clare Delaney had told me about when he’d slapped a girl so hard she’d lost the hearing in one ear, or about the boy he blinded. Once he became a teenager, that’s when the trouble set in, and Carole’s entries grew darker.

Wednesday, 2 February 1994

I had a knock on the door around seven o’clock. I don’t usually answer the door after dark, but there was something urgent about the knock. At first, I thought it was the police, that something might have happened to Anthony. When I opened it, I saw Mr and Mrs Clarke from number 178 on the doorstep. Their faces were like thunder. I didn’t get a chance to say hello or welcome them in as Mr Clarke just exploded into a tirade of vitriol, calling Dominic evil and a devil-child.

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