Bad Sister(11)

‘I don’t understand, you said you needed a new psychologist, that I’m a risk?’

‘Can we just have another session; I got something in the post this morning. You’re the only one I can talk to about it.’

‘You shouldn’t be getting post.’ Connie’s hand flew to her chest. ‘Who knows your address? Only utility companies should have it.’

‘It’s okay. It was forwarded to me at this address by Miles. They go into my Manchester place and pick up stuff now and then. They normally read it, ’specially if it looks suss, or they think it’s from any of the gang, but this was unopened.’

‘Oh, good.’ Connie released her hand from her chest.

‘But it’s not good. It’s from him.’

Connie’s interest was renewed. Was she going to find out the real reason for Steph’s current anxiety? The immediate situation with Ricky, and Steph’s threat of finding a new psychologist, melted into the background.

‘Let’s go on up, shall we?’ Connie started up the stairs, confident Steph would follow.

Steph took her usual chair; Connie pulled her own up close, just in front of Steph. She had to be careful here, let her talk, not jump in with questions. Be patient.

‘Tell me about the letter.’

Steph’s body shuddered, then she took in a deep breath. ‘It’s from Brett.’ Even though Steph was naturally fair-skinned, any hint of colour she’d had drained slowly from her face, like water being let out of a bath. It looked to Connie like she might faint, but she recovered; taking a few rapid breaths, she appeared to compose herself. Connie bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself talking, from pushing Steph into going faster. It had to be in her own time. She had to have the control, not Connie.

‘He used to write all the time. Well, monthly. From the YOI.’ She paused. It stretched. This was going to take a long time. Connie glanced at her watch; her next client was due at ten and she’d hoped to have made progress with Steph by then, but at this rate she’d have to cut her short. She’d have to prompt her. Steph had dropped her head and was twisting her fingers in the bottom of her oversized hoody.

‘So, Brett is in a Young Offenders’ Institution?’

She looked up again and sighed. ‘Yep. Has been for years. Was in a secure home before that.’

‘Okay, so hadn’t you heard from him in a while then?’

‘I’d ignored his letters. I guess he gave up trying ’cos I never wrote back. I think it’s been two years since I got one.’

‘You mentioned Brett the other day. It sounded as though you were afraid of him finding you? Why is that?’

Steph’s eyes widened. Her words rushed out: ‘He’s a murderer.’ She wiped her hands on her thighs, up and down, up and down. Then she looked up. Tears had appeared, bulging at her lower lids; her face had taken on a cold, hard, mask-like quality. ‘And he’s my brother.’

Connie sat back in her chair. Had she heard right, that this ‘Brett’ was her brother? How could that be? The background information she’d been given couldn’t have been wrong, surely?

‘Steph, I’m a bit lost,’ she said tentatively. ‘I didn’t think you had any siblings.’

‘Well I do. Spent a long time wishin’ I didn’t, but I do have a brother.’

Connie shifted in her seat. She’d have to go over the file, check this out with Miles Prescott. She was Steph’s psychologist; Miles should’ve given her all the relevant information required to carry out her job. Why leave out significant details pertaining to her family. What else had been omitted?

Connie suddenly had a dozen questions she wanted to fire off, but held back. Steph obviously wanted to talk, or she wouldn’t have shown up today. She allowed the silence.

‘He was ten when he did it. The fire.’ She screwed up her eyes tight, her lips were drawn in a straight line. One knee bounced as if on a nerve. ‘The little weirdo torched the house while we slept.’

Poor Steph. What a terrible event.

‘How did you escape?’

‘I hadn’t been asleep long, could hear him padding down the stairs, wondered what he was doin’. After he didn’t come back upstairs, I went down to check what he was up to. He was always messin’ around wi’ matches, lighters and the like. Weird thing wi’ fire. Didn’t trust him. I thought I smelled smoke as I got outside their room. But it didn’t sink in.’ Steph tapped her temple with her forefinger. ‘I assumed he was up to no good downstairs. I’d no idea he’d set the fire in their room. Stupid. If I’d just sussed it then …’

‘You couldn’t have known. It’s normal for us to think about what we might have done after any situation. It was a traumatic event for you, Steph. Don’t blame yourself.’

‘I could’ve warned them earlier. Stopped him dying like that.’

‘Your dad?’

‘She got out, somehow. Don’t know how, she was badly burned. Has never spoken since. Not a word. I think Dad panicked.’ Her breathing shallowed. ‘He was at … the … window …’

‘Take some deep breaths, Steph.’ Connie leaned forwards, put her hands on Steph’s, breathing in slowly, out slowly, along with her.