Speak No Evil Read Online Free PDF Page B

stressed, thought Donovan. Even more than usual.
    â€˜D’you want to take a break? Get a coffee?’
    Anne Marie looked up at him like she was drowning and he had thrown a lifeline. ‘Yeah,’ she said, her voice croaking. Yeah, that would be nice, thanks.’
    â€˜And then we keep going, yeah?’ Donovan reached across and turned the recorder off. He stood up, gave her a smile and went to make coffee.
    Checking the screen in the office as he went past.
    No change.

‘So you’ve got a son?’
    She nods. Jack. Nearly sixteen.’
    â€˜And is he Rob’s son?’
    She shakes her head. ‘No. Jack was born long before Rob was on the scene. But he’s been good, you know. Good to Jack. Been a dad for him, as much as he can.’ She nods to herself. ‘Yeah.’
    â€˜As much as he can?’
    She shrugs. ‘You know. Boy’s not his. These things are never easy. Rob doesn’t always seem like a good bloke. But he is. He’s got a good heart.’
    â€˜How long’s Rob been on the scene?’
    â€˜Since Hull. Four years, almost.’
    â€˜And Jack was born …’
    â€˜In London.’
    He looks at her. ‘How long had you been out of prison?’
    She tries to smile. It doesn’t quite work. ‘Long enough to get pregnant. Why you askin’ these questions?’
    â€˜Background. I have to know these things.’
    She nods.
    â€˜Right. So Jack’s dad …’
    â€˜Isn’t around. Has nothin’ to do with him.’ Said with finality, like a huge, old book slamming shut. ‘Jack’s dad was … no. I won’t say it. He might read this. I don’t want him back into Jack’s life. Or Jack might read this. I don’t want him findin’ out any thin’ about his dad.’
    â€˜He might want to one day.’
    â€˜Well, that’s his choice. I won’t be able to stop him then. But I will warn him.’
    He tries to get her to say more. She won’t. He changes his questioning.
    â€˜So Jack. He named after anyone?’
    Her face changes. Cracks into a rare smile. ‘Yeah. Man I never met. But a man I came to love.’
    He’s intrigued. He waits for her to tell more.
    â€˜My life was saved in Fenton House. In Hertfordshire. It was a special unit for teenage boys. Well, teenage boys and one girl. Me.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜They didn’t know what to do with me. The authorities. They found me guilty of murder and knew that I had to be punished. But they were also curious. Why had I done it? What had made me? So they sent me for therapy.’
    He goes to say something.
    â€˜Yeah, yeah I know. Therapy. I hate therapists, I hate psychiatrists. And I do. Mainly because of the prison ones, but that came later. But yeah, Fenton. Mr and Mrs Everett. They ran it. Wasn’t like prison, not a bit. It was like home. Not a home, home. We were all supposed to have emotional problems that made us do what we did. But they didn’t look on us as criminals. They looked on us as children.’
    Tears are back in her eyes. She stares into the distance, into the past.
    He waits.
    â€˜We all lived in the same big house with Mr and Mrs Everett. We all ate sittin’ round the big, old, pine kitchen table. We all got help. And it was in Fenton that I met Joanne. Joanne Smeaton.’
    â€˜Ah.’
    â€˜Yeah. The name. I asked her, she said she didn’t mind. Was quite flattered, really. She was an art therapist. Got me paintin’ and drawin’. She’d had a husband. A good man, she said. But he was dead. Jack. That was his name. And she helped me so much, she …’
    She stops talking, unable to hold back the tears.
    He waits.
    She dries her eyes. Continues. ‘Anyway. When Jack was born I called him after her husband.’
    â€˜And do you still see her? Are you still in contact?’
    She shakes her head. ‘No.’
    There’s