Rachel walked off, not too quickly, not prepared to let him think he’d rattled her, but on her toes, ready. He didn’t follow.
She reached the canal on foot, it ran behind the flats. The street lighting was brutal, an attempt to improve security. The water between the stone banks looked oily in the glare. Smelled pungent in the cold air. The canal was full of rubbish, plastic bags and bottles, chunks of polystyrene. There was no one about, but ahead on the left she saw the bridge and a glow of yellow flickering in the tunnel underneath. A fire.
She walked, as quietly as she could, along the towpath and drawing closer made out a group of people huddled round the flames. Three lads, and at the far side of the semicircle, Rosie. Stick thin, ginger hair, glasses, a denim jacket. She didn’t even have a hat on, though it was close to freezing.
Rachel considered the lads: older teenagers, their hoodies and tracksuits shabby, nothing new. Edging nearer, she could see a giant-sized bottle of cheap wine. A smoke was doing the rounds. Weed, maybe? Yes, she could detect the distinctive heady smell of cannabis. Sudden laughter. And Rosie kicked out at one of the lads.
‘Rosie?’
The group stilled, one of the lads jumped up. ‘What d’you want?’ he said. Rachel stared at his face, noted the jut of his chin, the slack expression, mouth breather. ‘A word with Rosie there, all right, pal?’ Not frightened of him.
Rosie got up, she stumbled, and Rachel saw she was very drunk.
‘You’re police?’ said one of them.
Rosie hesitated, Rachel was worried she’d topple in the canal if she didn’t move away from the edge. But the lads shuffled back and the girl walked past, skirting the fire.
‘Youse the cops?’ the lad said again.
‘Shut it, Dec,’ said his mate.
Rosie came closer, her eyes bleary, the bones of her cheeks and her clavicle jutting out.
Rachel walked her along a few metres to where there was a simple plank bench. ‘You remember me?’ she said. ‘Here,’ Rachel offered the girl a cigarette, took one herself. Lit them. ‘How’ve you been?’ Needing to start somewhere, though she could see the kid was half off her head.
‘’Kay.’ Looking back to her mates, to the fire. She shook with cold.
‘The assault, the rape…’ Rachel said, seeing the girl stiffen immediately. ‘It was someone you knew?’
‘No,’ the girl said quickly.
Rachel didn’t believe her. ‘I think it was,’ Rachel said. ‘That’s why you refused to make a statement, why you wouldn’t press charges. You were frightened of him. Frightened he would make you pay if you shopped him.’
