Chapter 6

As I walked back to where I’d left the girls, my heart sank. Why did they have two boys sat with them, chatting away like old friends? I took a detour over to where Andy was fishing.

“Caught anything?” I asked him, handing him his ice cream.

“Not yet,” he replied.

I gestured over to the girls.

“Looks like Cal and Pip have,” I said.

“Hmm,” he grunted, “what’s going on there? Want me to come back over with you?”

“Nah, they probably just heard Cal singing in the club last night and are saying how good she was. It’s cool.”

I headed over to where the girls were and handed them their ice creams.

“Hi,” I said, “I’m David.”

“Hi, I’m Alan,” one of them said, “this is Steve.”

I nodded to them both.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“We were just asking the girls if they’d like to go to a party tonight,” Alan answered.

“A party?” I queried, “Where?”

“Our caravan, we start at ten thirty.”

“Sorry guys, but that’s past my sister’s bedtime.”

“Your sister? They’re your sisters?”

“No that one’s my sister, she’s twelve. This one’s my girlfriend. She’s fourteen.”

“Ah, shit,” Alan exclaimed, “Sorry mate, sorry girls, we thought you were older. But didn’t we see you two singing in the club last night?”

“Yes,” Cal agreed, “we won.”

“No you were singing on your own, some old song,” Steve interjected.

“My Man,” Cal said, “it’s an old song that Barbra Streisand did in Funny Girl.”

“You were great,” Alan said, “Wish I could sing like that.”

“You can man,” Steve replied, “just wear tighter underpants.”

“Come on Steve, let’s go find someone else to pester. Nice meeting you guys.”

“Yes, nice meeting you,” I replied as they stood up and left.

“What was that all about?” I asked when they were out of earshot.

“They were trying to get us to agree to go to a party at their caravan tonight. They said there’d be booze and other stuff there,” Cal replied, “I told them we weren’t interested and that our parents wouldn’t let us, but they were still trying to get us to go when you got back.”

“Other stuff?” I asked.

“I think they may have meant drugs,” Alison replied, “who’d be stupid enough to go to something like that, even assuming Mum would even have thought about letting us go.”

“Ah well,” Cal said, “let’s just forget about them shall we?”

We finished our ice creams, and played some more badminton until it was time for lunch. After lunch the girls and I decided that we’d had enough beach for the day and would head back t the caravan. Andy decided that since he hadn’t even had a nibble, he’d hang on to see if the fish were any hungrier. As we headed towards the path back up to the site, I noticed that Alan and Steve were in conversation with two other girls, both of them obviously too young to go to a booze party.

As we passed them and started on the climb up the cliff, I shook my head.

“What’s that for?” Cal asked.

“Those two, did you see the two girls they were chatting up?”

“Yes, they can’t have been more than thirteen.”

“What’s wrong with them, there’s plenty of girls their age around the camp?”

“Maybe they want to go to jail,” I suggested.

“Maybe they need to see a doctor,” Cal replied.

“Well if they’re going after girls that young, they’re definitely sick.”

“Should we tell someone?” my sister asked.

“Who would we tell?”

“Mum?” I suggested, “or the people in reception.”

“Let’s tell your Mum, and see what she says.”

“OK we’ll do that.”

As soon as we walked in Mum could tell that something was troubling me, and asked straight out what it was. I explained about going for ice creams and coming back to find the two boys talking to Cal and Alison, trying to get them to go to a party at their caravan that night, how there would be booze ‘and stuff’, and how they’d left when I told them the girls’’ ages and the fact that they were my girlfriend and sister. We also told them about seeing them talking to two other girls, about the same age as Alison as we left the beach.

“Well,” Mum said when I finished, “it’s a tricky one. It’s not illegal to invite people to a party, but it is worrying that they’re inviting such young girls.”

“That’s what we thought,” Cal answered, “and the fact that there was going to be booze, and stuff, whatever stuff is.”

“Well, I assume they meant drugs, and I also assume that you two never even thought of saying yes to their invitation.”

“Of course not, Aunt Pat,” Cal confirmed, “I do get an occasional small glass of wine with a meal, but that’s the limit of my drinking. And as for drugs, Yuck.”

“Clever girl,” Mum said, “OK, let’s go and report this to reception and see what they say.”

What reception said was that although there was nothing illegal about inviting girls to a party, it was worrying that these two young men were inviting such young girls. They told us of the park rule against single-sex occupation of caravans, but with the advent of single sex marriage that became increasingly difficult to enforce, and that normally they didn’t enforce it anyway. They assured us that they would have camp security keep an eye out for anything untoward, would ask anyone involved in such things to leave, and if necessary, call in the police.

Mum was not happy at their assurances, but there was nothing we could do other than to let them know what was going on. We went back to the caravan, had tea and then watched TV until bed time.

The following morning it was raining, so we decided to go for a swim in the indoor pool attached to the clubhouse. Or at least Cal, Alison and I did. Andy decided that he stood more chance against the fish in the rain so he headed down to the beach with his tackle. As the three of us rounded the corner to the clubhouse, Cal was the first to notice the police car parked in front of it.

“I wonder what brings them in here,” Alison mused.

“Dunno,” I replied, “do you think it could be anything to do with our friends from yesterday?”

“Maybe they caught them doing something they shouldn’t,” Alison said.

“Or somebody,” added Cal.

We walked in and approached the reception desk to sign into the health club. Behing the desk a uniformed sergeant was stood talking to the camp manager.

“Good morning kids,” the receptionist, Tracey, greeted us.

“Good morning,” we echoed, “is there a problem?”

“Two campers were arrested last night, apparently they had two underage girls in their caravan.”

The camp manager spotted us at this point and gestured towards us to the Sergeant. We couldn’t hear what he said, but the Sergeant turned, spotted us and came out of the glass cubicle where the manager normally worked.

“Hi there,” he said, pleasantly as he came round the counter, “You’re the kids who reported these two to the camp management yesterday.”

“Which two?” Cal asked, sharply.

“I believe you reported two youths who attempted to get you two girls to go to a party last night, and when you left the beach saw them trying to do the same with two other young girls.”

“That’s right,” I answered, “why? What’s happened?”

“I can’t say exactly, but as a result of a call from the camp management last night, two youths were taken into custody, and two young girls returned to their parents. We believe that the same two youths approached these two ladies and invited them to a party. Is that correct?”

“Well there were two youths talking to them when I came back with ice creams, but they left as soon as I told them their ages and the fact that one was my sister and the other was my girlfriend.”

“Then I’m going to have to ask you to come to the station and make statements.”

“All of us?”

“All of you.”

“Then you’ll have to speak to my mother, she’s in charge of us.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that, I’ll just drive you down there, and bring you back afterwards.”

“I think we’d prefer it our way,” I insisted.

The girls nodded in agreement.

“Okay, can we take a walk round and see her?” the Sergeant asked.

“Sure,” I agreed, “come on girls, it looks like swimming is postponed.”

It turned out that the sergeant was named Steve Matthews, and we walked with him back to the caravan, and introduced him to Mum.

“Mrs Barker,” he began, “I understand that it was your three children who informed the camp management of a possible problem last night.”

“Actually, no, it was me who informed them. My two children and my son’s girlfriend informed me,” she replied.

“Sorry, my mistake. Nonetheless, we’d like the three of them to come down to the station in Filey and make statements.”

“Very well, Sergeant, I’ll bring them down,” Mum agreed.

“I could take them down and bring them back.”

“No Sergeant, I will be there when they’re interviewed, also, I need to ring Cal’s mother and check that she’s OK with it.”

“Very well, would you please make the call?”

Mum pulled out her mobile and found the entry in her contacts list for Aunt Mary. Afer a few bried sentences she said goodbye and hung up.

“Yes Sergeant Mrs Warner is willing to allow Cal to be interviewed in my presence. I also require that for my two children as well. When would you like to do it?”

“Well as soon as possible, could you come down now?”

“How about two o’clock this afternoon?” Mum suggested.

“That would do,” He agreed.

“Very well then Sergeant Matthews, we’ll see you then.”

Feeling himself obviously dismissed, the Sergeant left.

At precisely one minute to two, we all walked into the Filey police station on Murray Street, and Mum walked up to the counter.

“Good afternoon madam,” the constable behind the counter intoned, “how can I help you?”

“My name is Patricia Barker, I have a two o’clock meeting with Sergeant Matthews, my children have information for him about last night’s incident at Reighton Gap.”

The constable looked down at a diary on the counter in front of him.

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