Chapter 15

It didn't take long to hear back from Joby Turnbull. There was a message waiting for me the next morning when I checked LinkedIn. He was indeed the person who knew Dominic Griffiths as a child, and although his message was brief, he said he had information that would give me an insight into Dominic's personality as a young man. However, he warned, ‘What I tell you may not be what you want to hear.'

That was enough to pique my interest. I fired off a reply, including my mobile number, and asked him to call to arrange a meeting.

I had a strong sense of foreboding. Every time I uncovered something new, I ended up with more contradictions to add to the pile, and still no closer to discovering if my father was a killer or not. Robyn had seen a man talking to Stephanie on the day she disappeared, and she thought he had looked like Dominic. That was a massive tick in the guilty column. If Joby gave me further evidence that pointed towards my father being a killer, I wasn't sure how I was going to react.

I showered and spent time styling my hair and putting on thick eyeliner. It felt strange not going into work, but I was grateful for the time off. I needed to gather my thoughts and feelings towards my father and find a way to understand who he really was.

By the time I returned to the living room, my mobile showed I had a voicemail from Joby Turnbull. He was free at lunchtime if I was able to meet. I gave him a quick call back, and we arranged to meet in a coffee shop close to where he worked, just outside the centre of Newcastle. He had a soft Geordie accent which I really liked the sound of. When I ended the call, I found I was smiling. He'd put me at ease with his smooth tone and confident attitude.

I wanted time to work on some questions to ask him and knew I'd be distracted in the flat, so I decided to head into town and find a quiet café. As I was leaving, I looked at myself in the mirror. Maybe dressing all in black was a bit too severe. Did it put people on their guard when talking to me? I needed Joby to open up, and if he was intimidated by a plump goth sitting opposite him, he might be reticent. I threw off my coat and stormed back into the bedroom.

Half an hour later, I was ready. The black sweater had been replaced by a white shirt, open at the neck. My hair was no longer whipped up into a small beehive but tied loosely in a ponytail which softened my features. I'd made the eye make-up more subtle, and the harsh red lipstick had been toned down with a lighter shade. I changed the black choker around my neck for a delicate cameo Mum had given me for my eighteenth birthday. As I studied my reflection once again, I had to admit that I liked this new, softer image.

Joby was a social worker at Children's Social Care at Barras Bridge. The civic centre was a massive concrete eyesore of a building just outside the centre of Newcastle. I arrived at Nero's early and sat near the entrance with a latte. I felt slightly conspicuous in my new softer style. I was rarely given a second glance in my usual clothes, which was how I liked it. However, I'd already had a couple of blokes look over and smile. One wasn't bad looking, the other was old enough to be, well, I'll not say my dad. I was on my second latte by the time a tall, slim man approached me.

‘Are you Dawn Shepherd?'

I looked up from my notebook where I'd been writing down more questions to ask. ‘Joby Turnbull?'

‘Yes.' He smiled.

‘Pleased to meet you,' I said, proffering my hand for him to shake, which he did.

Joby towered over me, standing at about six foot four inches tall. He was slim with fluffy blond hair and bright blue eyes. His suit was designer, as were his shoes, and his fingernails showed signs of a regular manicure. He asked if I wanted a drink, but it was a while before I answered, thanks to me being bewitched by his gorgeous eyes. I told him to sit down while I bought him a coffee. It was good of him to give up his lunch-hour for me, and it was the least I could do.

‘I wasn't expecting anyone to get in touch with me about Dominic Griffiths. Your message came quite out of the blue. He's not someone I like to think about, if I'm honest,' he said. There was no hint of nerves; he sat tall in the high-backed chair and, although his tone was serious, he had a twinkle in his smiling eyes.

‘I'm afraid I wasn't totally honest in my message.' I leaned forwards and lowered my voice. ‘I am a paralegal, but I have nothing to do with the case surrounding Dominic being released.' I took a deep breath. ‘I'm his daughter.'

‘His daughter?' he asked, clearly taken aback, the smile dropping from his face. ‘I didn't realise he had one.'

‘No. I've come as quite a surprise to many people.' I attempted a casual chuckle, but it sounded forced.

I could sense the revelation that I was Dominic's daughter had unnerved him, so I quickly explained how I had only just found out, and I was on a mission to discover everything I could about the father I never knew.

‘Wow. And you only found out all this a week ago?' he asked, picking up his latte and taking his first sip. ‘That must have been a shock and a half.'

‘You could say that. Do you mind talking to me?'

‘No. You're his daughter. You have every right to know all about him.'

‘Thank you. You mentioned in your message that I might not like what you have to say.'

‘Ah. Yes,' he said, looking down. He took a deep breath. ‘Are you absolutely sure you want to know?'

Suddenly, I was no longer sure. If he was going to tell me something that would convince me of Dominic's guilt, then I would be forced to come to terms with it. Draw a line under everything and tell Clare Delaney I wanted nothing to do with him being released.

I bit my lip and thought. It wasn't too late to stand up and leave the coffee shop. I didn't have to know everything. But if I didn't, I would have ‘what if' running around my mind for evermore.

‘Yes. I need to know,' I said quietly.

‘Right. Okay then. I met Dominic in the spring of 1997. I was fifteen, and he was seventeen. Both our grandads had allotments, and they tried to get us interested, but what teenager is interested in growing onions? We spent most of our time in his grandad's shed reading magazines. We got on well to begin with.'

‘Did he tell you anything about his home life?'

‘He told me about everything. When you're in a shed together for several hours each day with no television, you have to fill the time somehow. I knew his dad worked away a lot.' He frowned as he remembered. ‘And his mother was a bit… I don't know. I can't remember his exact words, but they didn't get on.'

‘What made you think that?'

‘He said she cried a lot. She'd be sat watching television in the evenings, and she'd just burst into tears for no reason. She'd fly off the handle over the littlest thing, like if he left a dirty cup in the living room or something. That's why he spent time with his grandad. His mother couldn't cope with him at home all day during the summer holidays. He didn't call her Mum either. He called her Mother. I remember thinking at the time that it was a bit weird. I still call mine Mum, even at my age.'

I smiled. ‘So do I.' I settled back into my seat.

‘Dominic was quite sad. I'd look up from whatever magazine I was reading, and he'd have this look on his face like he wasn't really there. His body was, but his mind was a million miles away.'

‘Did you ever ask him about it?'

‘I'd ask him what was wrong, and he'd just say, "Nothing."'

‘Did he like staying with his grandad?'

‘Yes. His grandad allowed him a can of beer in the evenings and let him stay up late. There were no rules with his grandad.'

‘Whereas there were with his mum?'

‘There were too many with his mum, by the sound of it.'

‘What about his dad? Did he mention him at all?'

‘No. Never. I thought he'd left them or died, so I didn't bring it up. It was only when my grandad mentioned him that I knew he worked away a lot.'

‘Did Dominic ever mention taking medication?'

‘Fenadine? Yes.'

‘You know about Fenadine?'

‘Only what I've read about in the news. I didn't know what it was called at the time I knew him. He did say he'd been given tablets to take. He said he suffered with low moods. I could certainly understand that, given how volatile his mother was.'

‘Did he mind taking the tablets?'

‘He didn't say,' Joby said, and took another sip of his latte.

I leaned forward and picked up my mug. I took a long sip while I marshalled my thoughts. ‘When you heard about Dominic being charged with murdering Stephanie White, what did you think? Were you surprised?'

It was a while before Joby answered. I wondered if he was trying to find a way of putting it without upsetting me. ‘I'm afraid not,' he eventually said.

‘Something happened between you, didn't it?'

Joby nodded.

‘This is the something I might not want to hear, isn't it?'

He nodded again. ‘It's not too late for you to say you don't want to know.'

‘No. I'm fine. Go on.'

Joby drained what was left of his latte. I asked if he wanted a second cup, but he refused. He leaned forward in his seat and interlocked his fingers. He lowered his voice. The twinkle in his eyes had faded, and he suddenly looked very sad.

‘It was a really hot, sunny day. My grandad said we shouldn't be cooped up in a shed all day. He slipped me twenty pounds and told us to go and get some dinner or something. So, we went into town. We went to Burger King and then down by the Tyne. It was a good day. The thing was, I'd been wrestling with something for a long time, and I needed to get it off my chest. I thought me and Dominic were close enough that I could tell him, and he'd be supportive, give me some advice. So, we were in the park, and I told him that I thought I was gay.'

‘Oh.' Typical. I looked at his hands and noticed a wedding ring.

Joby followed my gaze. ‘Craig and I have been married for eight years next Thursday.'

‘Congratulations.'

‘Thank you,' he said, the sparkle returning to his eyes momentarily.

‘How did Dominic take your news?'

‘He was very understanding. It actually gave me a bit of a confidence boost, you know, like I could come out to my mum and dad.'

‘So, what happened?' I asked when Joby stopped talking.

His face seemed to drop as the sadness swept over him. I couldn't stop looking at him. I was captivated by his story.

‘He called me that night and asked if I wanted to meet up at the allotments.'

I frowned. ‘Had he ever asked to meet at night before?'

‘No.'

‘Did he say why he wanted to meet?'

‘He said he was bored. His grandad always went to bed early, and he had nothing to do.'

‘What did you think?'

‘To be honest, I thought he was going to tell me he was gay too.'

‘Did you suspect he was?'

‘No, but when you're fifteen and you realise you're gay, it's nice to think there's someone, a friend, who is the same as you.'

‘So, you met at the allotments?' I prompted.

‘Yes. It was dark. I can't remember what time it was. Dominic was there, waiting for me. He'd brought a few cans of lager he'd taken from his grandad, but I think he'd had a few already. He was slurring his words. He said he wanted to talk about what I'd told him earlier.'

‘What did he say?'

‘He was full of questions about when I had realised I might be different and what being gay involved.'

‘Did you think he was asking because he suspected he was gay himself?'

‘I did, yes. So, I asked him. That's when he… you know, snapped.'

‘Oh God. What happened?'

‘Are you sure you want me to go on? You've gone very pale.'

I didn't speak. I couldn't. My mouth had gone dry. I nodded.

‘I think I said it in a joking kind of way. He asked me if I thought it would hurt, you know, sex with a man. I asked why he was so interested; did he want to try it out for himself? Something like that, anyway. I was laughing, and that seemed to set something off in him. His face just changed in a split second. He hit me across the head with his open hand, and I fell backwards onto a bench. I was dazed and confused and shocked. I had no idea where it had come from. It didn't seem real. I didn't even see him raise his hand, that's how quickly it happened.' Joby stopped and took a breath; he couldn't meet my gaze. ‘The next thing I remember, he was pulling my trousers down. He held my arms behind my back and pushed my head down on the bench, and he… well, you can guess what he did.'

‘He had sex with you?' My voice was loud with shock. Several customers in Nero's turned around to look at us. I lowered my voice. ‘Sorry.'

‘He tried to. He couldn't get it up. I managed to break free from his grip. I pushed him off and threw something at him, I'm not sure what. Then I pulled up my trousers and ran as fast as I could. I don't know if he followed me. When I got home, I was going to pretend nothing had happened, but as soon as I saw my mum I started crying. I had to tell her. I told her everything.'

‘Did you report it to the police?'

‘No. My mum wanted me to. My dad was all for going around to Dominic's to kill him. I was looking for comfort from them, and it ended up being me who had to calm them down.' He smiled. ‘I knew that if we went to the police, I'd have to go through the whole story over and over again, and then go to court, and it would be in the papers, and everyone would know. I didn't want that. What fifteen-year-old would?'

Joby was staring at the floor, and my heart broke for him. Such a traumatic attack, and at the hands of one of his friends too. So now attempted rape could be added to my father's rap sheet. Had he graduated from rapist to murderer?

‘Did you ever see Dominic again after that?'

‘No.'

‘And the next time you heard about him was…?'

Joby nodded. ‘It took a while for it to sink in. I remember reading all the stories about it in as many newspapers as I could, just in case one of them had got it wrong, and it was someone else. For some reason, though, I wasn't surprised. It was like I had been waiting to read about him doing something like that. I've struggled with it for many years. I wondered if there was something I could have done to stop him. I was broken for a long time.'

Joby looked back at the ground. He took a deep breath. He lifted up the sleeve on his left arm and showed me the scars from a suicide attempt on his wrist. His voice was shaking. ‘I blamed myself for not reporting him to the police when he attacked me. My mum found me unconscious on the bathroom floor and called for an ambulance. While I was recovering in hospital, I thought about what would have happened if I had reported Dominic to the police. It would have been my word against his. There was no actual rape, so there were no forensics. It was then I realised reporting him wouldn't have got a conviction; it wouldn't have changed anything. Only then did I start to forgive myself and heal.'

A wave of sadness swept over me. I wanted to cry. ‘I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to drag all this up…'

He reached across the table and placed his warm hands on top of mine. ‘No. It's okay. I'm a social worker – I ask difficult questions all the time. It's just strange being on the receiving end of them.'

‘Is that why you went into social work – to help others?'

Joby nodded. ‘I want children to know they have someone to talk to if they need it. If they don't think they can talk to their parents or any family members, they can come to me. In a way, I'm a survivor. I tell them that. I survived, and they can too. I can be their voice.'

‘You do a good job.'

‘Thank you.' He looked at his watch.

‘Sorry, I'm keeping you. Let me ask one last thing, what did you think when you heard Dominic was being released?'

‘I don't know. I wasn't surprised. I always knew he'd get out one day. I just didn't think it would come around so quickly.'

‘What are your feelings towards him?'

‘I don't have any.'

‘Do you hate him?'

‘Hating him would take too much energy. I let it go a long time ago.'

‘I can understand that.' I smiled weakly. ‘I'm struggling with how I should be feeling towards him. I really appreciate you agreeing to see me, Joby. It can't have been easy.'

‘You're welcome.' He stood up. ‘Have you been to see him yet?'

‘No. I'm still in two minds whether to or not. Do you mind me asking your opinion, if you think I should see him?'

‘That really is a question only you can answer. If I were in your shoes…' He paused while he thought. ‘I have no idea. I'm sorry. He's served his time in prison. I like to think that in the past twenty years he's repented and is genuinely sorry for what he's done.'

‘Even though he still claims his innocence?'

‘Maybe he really believes he is innocent, especially if he's been reading all the reports about that drug.'

‘What do you think about the drug?'

‘I don't know enough about it to form an opinion. However…' He sat back down again on the edge of the chair. ‘Every brain reacts differently to that kind of medication. One person sues the company who made it, then others jump on the bandwagon, looking for a way to excuse their own behaviour. Unfortunately, we're living in a time where people look to blame others for their actions and don't take responsibility for what they do. Fenadine could have made Dominic react violently towards Stephanie. Or maybe he's spent twenty years looking for a way out and finally found one.' He stood back up again. ‘I really hope you find the answers you're looking for.' He held his hand out for me to shake.

‘Thank you so much.'

‘You're welcome.' He gave me a smile then turned away, buttoning up his coat as he left the coffee shop.

I watched as Joby Turnbull headed back to work with his head held high. I smiled at this remarkable man. He had been through a horrific ordeal at a very difficult age. He had attempted suicide but had managed to come through his nightmare and out the other side a better person. He was doing good work. He was settled in a loving relationship, and he seemed happy with life. He was the perfect example of someone facing adversity and pulling himself back from the brink to achieve greatness.

I was no closer to discovering the truth, but I had been given another snapshot of my dad's behaviour while he was taking Fenadine.

I pulled my phone out of my bag and saw I had two missed calls from Mum. I felt tears prick my eyes. I really needed her right now. More than ever, I wanted my mum to put her arms around me and tell me everything would be all right.

The problem was, I didn't think it would be.