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JIM
Nicky Forbes was disturbed by my proximity. She shifted, tucking her legs under the table, away from
me. Her body language was pure avoidance, but I was OK with that. I’d learned to be patient.
Woodley sat on the other side of her, keeping more distance, his posture relaxed. Good lad, I
thought, he’d been listening.
We’d planned to use the Reid technique in the interview. It’s not very nice, but it’s very effective.
It’s a well-known technique that makes use of a good-cop, bad-cop routine, so Woodley had a role to
play. As well as being my foil, he would be my eyes. He would watch her for body language that
would betray her.
Nicky Forbes folded her arms over her chest.
‘Are you finished?’ I said.
She flinched slightly, a small jerk of her head away from her hand, which held her cigarette just in
front of her mouth, the smoke curling between us.
‘The thing is,’ I said, ‘here’s how I see it.’ I kept my voice gentle, but persistent, I wanted her to
listen to every word I said.
‘I think what you went through as a child was a terrible thing. I think that when you lost your
brother, when you lost Charlie, you never really recovered. Did you? Then you had to bring up
Rachel and she was ungrateful, wasn’t she? She never knew how much you had to suffer, or thought
about how hard it was for you to keep the secret about your parents and about Charlie.’
She took a deep pull on her cigarette, her eyes on mine. I went on.
‘So when Rachel had Ben that was difficult for you, wasn’t it? You had four daughters, but that’s
not the same as having a son, is it? She didn’t know how lucky she was, because for you, having a son
would be like having Charlie back.
‘So I think you didn’t have a choice. I think you thought that Rachel was bad for Ben. You reckoned
that she couldn’t look after him as well as you. She’s divorced after all, bearing a grudge against her
husband and his new wife. That’s not a happy home. And Ben’s been unhappy in the past year; we
know that from his teacher. That must have pained you. In fact I think it was really hard for you to
bear.’
She gave a small, brusque shake of her head, then she ground the cigarette out in the ashtray,
crossed her arms.
‘Four children is a lot, and all girls too. Were you hoping for a son, Nicky? Is that why you wanted
to try for another baby this year? Your husband told me. Has it been all about replacing Charlie?’
Her eyes began to glisten with tears, but she didn’t move a muscle. I didn’t draw breath. You
mustn’t, because if you do it gives them a chance to deny things, and that can make them stronger, just
the act of saying it. You have to carry them on your narrative until they finish it for you, and hand you
the ending you’re waiting for.
I inched my chair just a little closer to hers. Her head bowed. I leaned forward, put my elbows on
my knees, and looked up at her.
‘You see, I think it was just too much for you in the end. That Rachel had Ben. You knew you could
do a better job than her and you wanted a son of your own.’
She shuddered.
‘I know what it’s like to want to protect,’ I said. ‘I can understand why you did it. You’d left your
own family; you didn’t want them. You wanted him. And you wanted him for the right reasons. It was