‘That was ours. Number sixteen. And that’ – she points to the scrubby patch of grass opposite the row of houses – ‘is where I used to watch them. They used to call out to my dad asking if he wanted a blowjob for breakfast, laughing at him as he walked me and my sister to school. Dad used to get so angry. When it first started getting bad back in the late nineties, Dad would come out here with a litter picker and a bin bag every weekend to pick up the used condoms, but he stopped after a while.’
‘Why?’ Eddy asks weakly. Horrified for his upright, dignified father-in-law and appalled for little Anna.
Anna shrugs and just stares blankly, like she doesn’t want to see the place in focus even from a car window. ‘I think he just gave up. It almost destroyed him, you know, watching this fishing village he grew up in become one of the most deprived towns in the country.’ Anna folds her lips against her teeth. ‘It got worse. Once, Sami opened the door to a pimp looking for one of his girls. Sami and I weren’t allowed out on our own after that, even though we were teenagers. We were bullied at school for being stuck up, for having this overprotective dad. Then one day I recognized one of the girls; she was only two years above me at school and she was standing out there in just her bra and short white skirt. She went missing a couple of weeks later. I remember her mum asking if we could put a “Find Charlotte” poster in our front room. We did, of course, but then a few days later I heard my mum crying in the kitchen; the poster had been taken down. No one said why and we moved soon after.’
Eddy doesn’t know what to say but knows he should say something. ‘God, Anna, I’m so sorry.’
Anna turns in the driver’s seat to look directly at him. ‘This is what I’m afraid of, Eddy. Of this same thing happening to Waverly.’
The thought that Waverly with its tourists, art galleries and lazy brunch cafes could ever fall like Ruston is almost laughable, but Anna’s face is so serious and she seems to read Eddy’s thoughts as she says, ‘I mean it, Ed. Ask my dad. He always says that if this could happen to Ruston, it could happen anywhere.’
Eddy thinks about pointing out that her father had told him the reason Ruston fell so hard was because the community was dependent on the fishing industry and when their small boats were overtaken by the huge trawlers, they didn’t stand a chance. Overnight, it seemed, everyone was unemployed, which of course led to poverty, which in turn led to all the other problems. But one look at Anna and he can see that she won’t want to hear it. Her reasons are emotional; she is motivated by trying to protect her sons from some of the things he now knows she experienced in her own childhood. Her fears might not be grounded in reality, but that doesn’t make them any less important.
He takes her hand where it rests on the gear stick between them. He feels a wonderful tenderness. He can respect, even love her fire about this whole Seb mess now he knows where it comes from. ‘Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this, Anna?’
She shakes her head, sadly. ‘I don’t know; they’re not the best memories. I try not to think about it.’
He nods. He knows those reasons all too well.
She turns to him, curious to see if he understands her better now, and he smiles at her and nods to show that he does.
‘I just want to protect my community and our kids’ childhoods for as long as I can. And if she hasn’t been forced into it, then she is simply a woman who makes bad choices. Most women’ – Anna says the words carefully, implying that what she means is ‘most
Eddy waits on the platform for his train and after checking there’s no one around who might overhear him, he calls Seb. Just when he thinks Seb’s answerphone is going to click on, like it has every other time Eddy’s called since Saturday night, Seb picks up. ‘Hi, Ed.’ His voice is flat, his tone grey, exhausted.
‘Seb. Mate, good to hear you,’ Eddy says and out of habit adds, ‘You OK?’