Discarded M. Hunter (the snowy day read aloud TXT) 📖

bruises as the rest of us. One of Turgood’s favourites, it was rumoured, but then he left and I used to hope it meant he’d managed to get away and start afresh somewhere.’

A tear escapes and is blotted by the dry skin of Freddie’s cheek. ‘I used him as a kind of inspiration, figuring if he could get out and move on, then one day maybe I could too. But then I saw him again a bit later on, and it sickened me to think that I’d wanted to be just like him. I told you about the film studios, and what we’d been paid to do, but I never told you about the parties. That’s where I saw him. He hadn’t escaped the life… Instead, he’d become one of them – a ringleader of sorts.

‘It was like a private members club, where old, rich white men would come and smoke cigars and drink brandy and pass social commentary on the failings of the world, before selecting a victim to go and sodomise in a private suite. The members, you see, were asked to pre-order whatever it was they were after: young or old; black or white; boy or girl; experienced or… untouched. Graham Meacham and this guy called Terry Brown would bring two to three examples to the parties, and then the member would make his choice. I was older by then, and I guess my spotty face and hairy chin didn’t appeal. I was never invited back.’

I move to hug Freddie but he holds his hands up and stops me. ‘Don’t pity me, Emma. Please? You must have suspected deep down that there was more I hadn’t told you about that period in my life. Jack here spotted it straightaway, and you’re a smarter cookie than he is, so don’t pretend like this is news to you.’

He grabs hold of the back of the chair closest to him and I know already that us being here tonight has forced him to cross a line from which there may be no return.

‘I am sorry, Freddie,’ I mouth, but the words stick in my throat. Unlocking my phone, I open the gallery to show him the images of Faye and Cormack. ‘Do you recognise either of these children, Freddie? We have reason to believe that one or both of them may have been known to Peter Saltzing.’

He stares at the phone for a long time before his breathing intensifies and the tears do break free. I look to Jack for guidance, and he nods for me to continue. I wish we hadn’t come here tonight, and I know if I ask any more there really will be no way back for my and Freddie’s friendship; I know how much it took for him to admit the truth to me the first time, and I am systematically pulling down all the walls he has put up around that pain in his life.

Barbara appears at the entrance to the hall and looks from Freddie to us, and then says she’ll let the queue know there’s going to be a slight delay.

Freddie takes a deep breath and exhales it loudly, his eyes widening and fixed on the phone. ‘That night at the party,’ he says quietly. ‘There was a fight, um, an argument of some kind between Brown and the girl here. Her name was… um… Jewel, or Gem, or…’

‘Faye?’ I offer, but he shakes his head.

‘No, more elemental than that… Patience? No, Precious, that was it. I only remember her because… well, she was the only black girl there. She kind of stood out, but she had this confidence – so self-assured for one so young. Her and Brown had this coming together, and I saw her being dragged out of the place. I didn’t see exactly what happened next, but I went outside for a cigarette sometime after. The perverts were off with their selections and the rest of us were being rounded up to be shipped off back to where we’d come from. I was near these trees and I could see that castle – um, Highclere Castle – in the distance. The moon was full and it was like a giant spotlight on the place. I saw Meacham and some other fair-haired bloke with shovels and they’d already dug pretty deep. When you came here the other night and told me a body had been found… I figured it was probably her. May she rest in peace, at last. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you then but I hope you understand why. And I have nothing else to say to either of you right now. I have a queue of people who need my help, and who won’t judge me for a life I tried to leave behind a long time ago.’

I try to move closer to Freddie again but he turns his back on me.

‘You know your way out.’

The car ride back to my flat is made in silence. Jack doesn’t gloat once at the fact that he’s been vindicated – not that I’d blame him if he did. How much more is there that Freddie has kept hidden from me? I thought my gentle coaxing had uncovered everything, but now it feels like we’ve barely scratched the surface, and yet I have a horrible feeling he won’t welcome me back anytime soon.

‘We should probably take a raincheck on dinner,’ Jack says, as he parks up in the space outside my building. ‘I don’t have much of an appetite anymore.’

I nod my agreement. ‘What will you do from here?’

Jack sighs. ‘Terry Brown and Graham Meacham are new names to the investigation, so I guess finding them would be a good start. I don’t think there was much by way of forensic evidence uncovered at the site or in the suitcase, so proving this Brown or Meacham were responsible for burying Faye is going to be a challenge. There probably isn’t much evidential value in what Freddie