Chapter 29

Sunday 30th August, 7pm

Mike sat with his parents in the lounge as darkness descended. He face had grown pale since there had been mention of the video at Nikki’s house. He and his parents looked thankful for the gathering gloom, concealing their worries, giving each of them a place to hide. His mother broke the silence.

“Just because Andre found a video doesn’t mean that Lauren has been involved in one. All we think is that she may have had some pictures taken.”

“What’s this about pictures?” asked Mike, looking at his father.

“Someone called to say that they had seen pictures of Lauren, posing with no clothes on, some on her own and others with a boy and older girl.”

“And you think Jim might be the boy?”

“Who else?” he said quickly.

“I don’t know. How do you know it’s even Lauren?”

“We don’t. Perhaps it’s all a big misunderstanding. Call Jim, see what you can find out, there’s a good boy.”

Mike took the phone and dragged the cord with him so that he could sit on the stairs with some privacy. He dialed the number and was taken by surprise when the phone was answered after only half a ring.

“Hey, this is Mike, Lauren’s brother. Is Jim there? Oh, hi Jim. Look we’re having a bit of a panic over here. Lauren has been out since last night, and we wondered if she was with you?” He too stared at the floor, shaking his head sadly as he listened to the bad news. “So when did you last see her? A week ago? And when did you last talk to her? OK, that must have been from Nikki’s house because she left here yesterday morning.” Mike paused, listening to Jim, but staring into space as he rehearsed the question again and again. “Look, Jim, you don’t have to answer this, but I really need to know. Have you ever slept with her?” he paused, analysing the reply. “And do you think anyone could have photographed you while you, er...” But Mike never heard the answer. His father stormed out of the lounge and ripped the phone from his hand.

“You little shit!” he bellowed, his face almost purple with rage. “I’ll have you in court within twenty-four hours!” Mike moved quickly out of range of his father. “Do you know how old she is? Eh? She’s fifteen, that’s how old! You dirty little bastard.” Maurice swung from side to side, almost pulling the phone cord from the wall. Mike shuffled back into the lounge to discover his mother sobbing into her handkerchief. He sat next to her on the sofa and put his arm around her shoulders. She shrugged him off with a simple shake of her head as she brought her hand to her mouth as though she was about to vomit. The litany of abuse continued in the hallway, his father venting his anger and rage at Lauren’s helpless boyfriend. He had never heard his father use such language, assuming up until that point that he didn’t even know of the existence of most swear words. There was a crash as the receiver was replaced.

“He’s sorry! Sorry! Jeeze, I’m going to kill that boy, just you watch!” stormed his father, his face still puce from anger.

“Did he know anything about the church?” asked Daniele.

“Oh, I didn’t ask” replied Maurice, closing his eyes as he cursed himself.

“Well, you can’t ring him up now, can you? Regardless of his crime against Lauren, just think what courage it took to own up to it, Maurice. I bet we’ll need him if we’re going to sort this thing out. After all, she tells him everything!”

“What do you think I should have done then, eh?” asked Maurice angrily.

“I don’t know, but now we either sit here and wait for Celestine to come home, or we talk to Jim, or we talk to Kristal.”

“I’ll call Kristal, see what she’s got to say for herself, the little pervert.” Maurice picked up the phone and ran through the personal address book until he found her name. He dialed slowly, closing the book as he waited for someone to answer. “Hello? Hi, this is Maurice Gisal, Lauren’s father. We have a problem that I think you might be able to help us with. Can you tell me about the pictures you saw of her at AnneMarie’s hen night?” He sat, clutching his stomach with his free hand. “How many?” Uh huh. Do you know who took them? Oh right, just a minute while I get a pen.” He waved madly in the air at Daniele. She retrieved a pen and pad of paper from the top of his bookcase in the dining room.

“OK, go on. 6, Rue les Hallets, yes, I know the area a bit. Marlene Stern. OK, got that, any phone number? Great, got it. Thanks. Where are the pictures now? Oh OK, bye.” He hung up.

“So, what’s did she say?” asked Daniele.

“Says she’s wasn’t sure who was in the picture. She’s never seen Jim, and she didn’t actually bring them to the hen night. Some other girl did. Supposedly she works at this address. I’ll give it a call.”

“But there won’t be anyone there Sunday night!”

“What else? Wait `til the shops open Monday morning?” he snarled.

“Hey, we still don’t know anything for sure. And you can’t go on assuming that everyone on the other end of the phone is a pervert and guilty as sin, you know” replied Daniele.

“I’m sorry if it sounds like that. But it’s all mounting up. And anyway, that boy said that he’d, you know. He’d actually done it with Lori. The bastard. Just you wait, he’ll get ten years for this!” The red glow returned to his face. Mike stared at the floor, his breathing heavy and the palms of his hands sweating. “I’m going to ring this Marlene woman, see what she’s got to say for herself!”

He picked up the phone and dialed, staring blankly through the window at the street outside at the drizzle outside.

“Hi, I’d like to talk to Marlene Stern?” he inquired. He paused, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Oh good, my name’s Maurice Gisal, and I hope you can help me. I understand that you’re a photographer and may have taken some pictures of my daughter?”