No Going Back by Casey Kelleher (black male authors TXT) 📗

Only it couldn’t be Shelby?

It didn’t look anything like the vibrant, flashy, dolled-up Shelby that Imelda knew. In fact, if Imelda had seen her out on the street, she was certain that she wouldn’t have even recognised her at all. She would have walked right past her. She was devoid of the usual heavy mask of make-up and dressed down, wearing a plain old tracksuit.

Imelda stepped closer to the TV, so she could see her properly. Stunned at the sight of the broken shell of a woman before her. Shelby’s face was bruised, her eyes dark and sunken. She stared at the camera, but there was nothing going on behind her eyes. It was as if the lights had gone out. It was probably the worst that Imelda had ever seen her look. And now the whole world was seeing it too.

Imelda stared at Ashley then too and couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Shelby had pushed him out. They were sitting next to each other, and it would be hard for others to see it, but Imelda could. Shelby’s body language was off. She tilted slightly away from him, as if she couldn’t stand to be next to him. As if she couldn’t stand to be anywhere near him. And when he reached for her hand, Imelda could see the way that she flinched. It was such a slight, almost seamless movement that you wouldn’t notice unless you were really looking.

But Imelda was really looking. She was taking it all in. How Ashley’s hand clamped around Shelby’s, but Shelby’s fingers hung loose. Their bodies next to each other, but their connection worlds apart.

She wondered if Shelby knew about the woman that went into their flat yesterday.

This ‘Kate’ that Ashley had seemed so pre-occupied with. Maybe he’d told her, or Shelby had somehow found out?

Listening as the female detective made the statement. Appealing for the general public to be vigilant and keep a look out for the missing baby. Imelda’s eyes went to the photo again of Shelby’s attacker. They’d named him now.

Jay-Jay Andrews.

Imelda stared at the image. Shivering as she recalled the same cold glare that had met hers the night she’d walked across the estate’s communal gardens. Remembering how she’d told herself that she was imagining the pair of eyes that she could feel on her. Watching her from the shadows. Only she hadn’t been imagining it at all. He’d been there. He’d seen her.

Going to the front door, Imelda reached for the top bolt and yanked it into its lock, before crouching down and bolting the other new locks that she’d taken the initiative to install. Because she didn’t feel safe anymore. She didn’t feel safe in her own home.

And she needed to keep him out.

Going to the window, she stared out from behind the net curtains. Her eyes searched up and down the balcony. Wondering if he’d come for her too.

36

‘Well, this is worlds away from life over at the Griffin Estate, that’s for sure!’ Lucy said, unable to hide her surprise as she eyed the double-fronted period home in the middle of the private road, set just off the southern border of Wandsworth Common.

‘Shelby Cooke must really love the bloke to downgrade from this,’ Holder added in agreement as the two officers got out of their unmarked car and made their way through the wrought-iron gates towards the large front door. Lucy rang the bell and they waited. ‘I mean, he’s got a lot to live up to, hasn’t he? Poor bloke. There’s just no competing with this, is there?’

‘DC Murphy, DC Holder. Is there any news?’ Janey Baker said, opening the door and faltering at the sight of the two officers standing on her doorstep, trying to read the officers’ expressions. ‘Please God, say you’ve found him?’ she said hopefully, praying that they were both here to tell them that they’d found Riley.

Holder shook his head. ‘We’re still fully investigating every avenue, Mrs Baker. Which is why we’re here. Is Shelby around? We’d like to ask her a few questions, if possible.’

‘Er, yes, of course. Sorry, we just weren’t expecting you. Yes, of course. Come in.’

Following the woman through the house, Lucy made eyes at Holder. Janey seemed on edge. More jittery than normal.

‘They’ve probably had a row or something? Pete Baker seems like he’d be a challenge for anyone to live with,’ Holder whispered as Janey led them through to the lounge, where Shelby was sitting on the sofa. A blanket was draped over her and the log fire was lit.

‘Shelby, love, DC Murphy and DC Holder are here. They wanted to speak to you.’

‘Have you found him?’ Shelby said, sitting up straight, her eyes wide, her voice hopeful.

Lucy shook her head. ‘Not yet. No.’ She could see the woman’s disappointment as she sank back down in the chair.

‘Can I get you both some tea? Or coffee?’

‘Yes, that would be lovely,’ Lucy said, more so that Janey would leave them for a few minutes to speak to Shelby alone.

‘It’s lovely and cosy in here,’ Lucy said, smiling at Shelby once Janey was gone.

‘I can’t get warm,’ Shelby said, as if she hadn’t noticed the warmth of the room. ‘I feel cold down to my bones. It’s probably because I’m so tired. But I can’t sleep.’ She shrugged. ‘I know I should, but every time I close my eyes, I can see him. Wrapped up in his cot. Sleeping soundly. And then I remember that he’s not here. That he’s gone. That someone else has got him, and it’s like a flood of panic takes over me.’ Shelby stared off into space again. Not really addressing her grief to anyone in particular. Just making sense of it herself, out loud. Shaking her head as if she realised this, she looked at Lucy.

‘What did you want to talk to me about?’

‘We have been going through the security footage, Shelby.