Strangers

3

By mid-evening the tension in the house had reduced to a slightly more bearable level. Michelle had been working in the living room for the last hour or so, arranging the little furniture they had and leaving spaces for the rest of their belongings to be slotted in tomorrow once the removal van had been and gone. George was in bed, Phoebe had crashed out on a beanbag with her face buried in a book, and Tammy was sitting on an inherited sofa which, Michelle hoped, would be dumped outside by this time tomorrow. Scott was messing with the TV, had been for a while. He’d just about managed to get a decent signal. The picture was occasionally distorted by bursts of blocky digital static but, on the whole, it was watchable.

‘Can’t we get Sky?’ Phoebe asked, not looking up.

‘We can’t afford it,’ Michelle said quickly, hoping to nip the conversation in the bud before anyone could get any other ideas. She failed.

‘I’ll ask in town tomorrow,’ Scott said.

‘Just the basic package if we do. That’s all we need,’ Michelle warned.

‘And the sports channels.’

‘You had all those extra channels in Redditch and no one ever watched them.’

‘I never had time back in Redditch. Anyway, I need to get the Internet sorted and the phone. Might as well get a bundle. It’ll work out cheaper that way.’

‘There’s a free version, isn’t there?’ Tammy said. ‘Hannah had something. Freesat, I think it was called. You have a dish and a box, but you only get the free channels.’

‘Might be worth looking into?’ Michelle said.

‘Can’t get the sports channels,’ Scott said, still messing with the TV. ‘Not worth it if you can’t get the sports channels.’

‘Can you even get satellite TV out here? Isn’t it a bit remote?’

Phoebe put down her book and sighed. ‘We’re in Scotland, Mum, not on Mars. What, do you think satellites don’t fly over here?’

‘Haven’t really thought much about it.’

Phoebe looked back down, then back up again. ‘You know what, I actually think this place is going to be all right,’ she said, surprising the rest of them. They all looked at her, as if demanding an explanation. ‘I’m serious. I mean, it’s not like being home, but I think we’ll get used to it.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ Tammy grumbled.

‘Good for you, Pheeb,’ Michelle said. ‘It’s nice to hear someone being so positive. We need a bit of positivity around here.’

‘We need a lot of positivity,’ Scott agreed.

Nauseated by the sudden abundance of forced positive vibes, Tammy turned up the TV. It was the usual Sunday night shite they were watching, but it was a welcome distraction nonetheless. Without the Internet or a reliable phone signal, the TV felt like the only tenable connection she still had with the world she’d been forced to leave behind. Strange how reassuring it was seeing adverts she’d seen a hundred times before, and listening to theme tunes she knew note for note. Strange also how jarring it was when things weren’t as she’d expected. When the national news bulletin ended and the announcer handed over to regional newsrooms, the graphics and theme music seemed all wrong – almost like what she remembered, but not quite. This programme was Scotland Tonight, not Midlands Today, and it would take some getting used to. The presenter’s face was unfamiliar, she’d never heard of any of the place names, and the woman’s accent was all wrong… Tammy stopped listening and thought about home again, no longer paying attention.

‘That’s horrible,’ Michelle said. ‘Absolutely horrible.’

‘What is?’

Michelle nodded at the TV. ‘They found a body.’

The picture threatened to break up again, then steadied. On the screen Tammy saw an area of woodland, criss-crossed with police ‘do not cross’ tape. There was a white forensic tent in the middle of the space. It reminded her of the gazebo Dad used to put up in the garden when he did barbeques before he and Mum split up. Officers in all-in-one white forensics romper suits worked around the scene.

‘What happened?’

‘Some poor woman,’ Michelle said. ‘Murdered.’

‘So they found her, then,’ Scott said. ‘We saw them out looking yesterday afternoon, remember?’

The TV cut to a reporter loitering on the public side of the police cordon, the tent visible over his shoulder. ‘The body was found late last night by a security guard. Cause of death has yet to be established, although we understand the woman may have been the victim of a sexually-motivated attack. An eye-witness described the body as being in a state of partial undress and having been badly mutilated. Falrigg is popular with fell runners and walkers and police are appealing for anyone who might have been in the area over the course of the last twenty-four hours to come forward. Formal identification of the body has not yet been made, and police have so far refused to comment on any links with the disappearance of Joan Lummock. Mrs Lummock of Glennaird has been missing since Thursday evening.’

‘Nice,’ Phoebe said. ‘Is that far from here?’

‘It’s about a twenty minute drive,’ Scott said. Michelle looked at him and he felt compelled to explain. ‘The tip’s not far from there, if I’m thinking of the right place.’

‘Lovely area you’ve brought us to, Scott,’ Tammy said, goading for a fight.

‘Come on,’ he protested, ‘it’s not like there were never any murders in the Midlands.’

‘Ignore her, she’s just cranky,’ Michelle said.

‘Damn right I’m cranky.’

‘Shouldn’t you girls be going to bed?’ he said. ‘Big day tomorrow. First day at your new school.’

‘I’m sixteen, Scott, not six,’ she reminded him. She changed the TV channel, then looked across at him. ‘Sorry, were you watching that?’

‘Ah, you’re fine,’ he said, and he got up and walked away. Tammy was past caring anyway. She scrolled through the limited channels until she found something completely dumb and inoffensive, and she switched off her brain and soaked it up.