It took a while before we could see what they were doing. But we did. We saw. And Serena was right, they didn’t see us. The girl did, though. She looked right at me, her eyes locked on mine, her lips parted, trying to say something. And I didn’t do anything.
And she saw that, too.
Serena didn’t touch me again that day. I knew what we’d just seen. What we’d witnessed. But Serena saw it differently. She wanted to stay out of it – said we didn’t know the whole story. And anyway, she said, there would be questions. About why we hadn’t helped. Why we had done nothing.
You insisted we all go out that night. You were so happy, Helen, and it was like it would make it all OK again, if we all went along with you. I remember in the queue of the club, looking at your face, your innocence. You were so pure, so beautiful. I kissed you like you were my child, buried my cheek in your red hair. I’d wanted to be good again, like you. But all I could think of was the girl in the boathouse. How she’d cried. How she’d wriggled, struggled underneath the boy. How her glassy eyes had found mine, asking for help.
The next day, the police came round. You’ll remember this part, of course. Someone they’d questioned had seen us on the river, noticed the college crest on the punt. Mentioned it to the cops. The cops figured we’d have had to go to the boathouse to take it back. They had no evidence. I think, though, they knew it was us.
The four of us were in your room when the officers came. I’m sure you remember how it went. Serena spoke first. Yes, officer, we were at the boathouse, she said. My friend Daniel and I. But it must have been before, there was no one there when we took the boat back. Or when we left.
The police officer frowned. The victim knew she’d seen witnesses. One a girl. Blonde. Another a bloke, with spectacles. The officer gave me a long stare and I felt like I was made of glass, that I was about to shatter into pieces. I felt if I could just keep every muscle firm, every tiny part of my body still, I’d be safe.
You’re sure you didn’t see anything, he asked again. And I said no. That I was sorry. That I wished I could help. And you squeezed my arm, Helen. Believing me. And I had felt like the worst person on earth. I remember the detective, as he left the room. He glanced back. First at me. Then at Serena.
I tried to ignore the coverage of the trial, but it was impossible. The jury took so long over the verdict. It was too late, of course, by then. I had been praying they’d have enough, without us. Of course they will, Serena said. Haven’t you heard of DNA? But it wasn’t enough. They didn’t believe her.
I remember listening to it in the radio in the car, sitting outside my mum’s house, a fly buzzing in the wing mirror. Her knocking on the window, asking what I was doing. When it came back not guilty, I had opened the door and leaned over to be sick.
Years went by. I thought it had all gone away. Serena and I were never going to last – I loved you, Helen. And she loved Rory. I stopped thinking about the girl, about what we’d done. But then every time we lost a baby, a voice in my head would tell me that it was because of what I did. That I had brought it on us. That it was all my fault.
Did you ever suspect, Helen? There was a time when I wondered if you had caught us out. I found a photograph I didn’t know existed, of the four of us, at that play, the one where it all started, me in my wolf suit, Serena in her red cape. You’d torn it, right down the middle, between Serena and me.
But I kept that picture, stuck it back together. As a reminder of what I’d nearly lost. You. And the four of us. We were something precious, weren’t we? Despite everything. I know you felt that.
When you got pregnant again, and things finally seemed to be all right this time, I started to think maybe I’d had my punishment, that we were going to be left alone. Until that night, in Charlie’s club.
It had been Rory’s idea to take a new client there, a bloke who was always going on about places that ‘felt corporate’ or ‘soulless’ or ‘out of keeping with the community’。 I have to admit it was a masterstroke of his, taking him to Charlie’s dodgy club in Hackney. He loved it, kept saying it was ‘real’。 Rory even made Serena come along, help to charm him. Rory had been lying through his teeth all night, making out like he went there all the time. I think Serena and I were both a bit fed up, to be honest. It was just by chance that we went to the bar together, to escape for a bit. And that’s when she saw us.
She’d been working behind the bar, a glass in one hand, a cloth in the other. She’d recognised us straight away. I hadn’t known her face, but the truth of what she was saying registered immediately. My chest tightened, my palms were damp. I looked into her face and saw those green, watery eyes, the open mouth. Of course, by law, none of us had ever been allowed to know her name.