by Robert Innes
“You think,” Blake said, moving himself away from Woolf before he could place his hands on him again. “That we can be inconspicuous in a silver sports car?”
“Trust me,” Woolf said again.
Blake had never trusted anybody less in his entire life.
4
Harrison stepped out the shower, the ache in his back from a rogue spring in the sofa bed having slowly diminished. It was still much earlier than he was used to being awake on a day off but, as he had expected, Stephanie and Colin were up very soon after Blake had left for work, and while he could certainly picture Colin joining him in vegetating in front of the television for the day, he suspected that Stephanie would require slightly more in the way of entertainment.
Blake’s parents were now downstairs eating breakfast so he was free to go into the bedroom and get changed. He was just pulling a shirt over his head when he heard Stephanie mention his name from downstairs. Finding he could not resist the urge to listen to what she was saying, he crept across the bedroom and gently pulled the door open, listening to the conversation downstairs. It sounded like Colin was defending him.
“-perfectly nice lad, Stephanie, come on, love.”
“Did I say otherwise?” Stephanie said loftily. Though he had only known her for less than a day, Harrison could picture her looking over her glasses at her husband. “I just don’t think that he’s right for Blake.”
“He’s given you no reason to think that though, love!” Colin replied. “You’ve known him less than twenty four hours.”
“Colin, I have always been a better reader of situations than you. Think about it. He works in a corner shop. Blake is a detective sergeant in a busy police station. It is hardly an equal footing.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Colin asked incredulously. Harrison could feel his respect for Blake’s father growing by the second.
“Harrison is a young man, younger than Blake by quite a few years. He takes after you, I expect. Young piece of skirt and his crotch does the rest.”
“I’d hardly call Harrison a young piece of skirt, you daft bat.”
“It’s about money,” Stephanie pressed on, lowering her voice. “I don’t blame Harrison as such, and I’m sure that there is some genuine affection there, but we’re the next generation, Colin, we’re supposed to be the ones thinking practically. He’s young, he’ll be wanting to set himself up for the future. Blake’s wage would do that!”
“Were you not listening last night woman? He’s fine for money. He’s got savings, more than I did at his age, more than you did. You’re just upset he’s not Nathan.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Colin,” Stephanie snapped.
“No, you loved Nathan. You haven’t listened to a word Blake’s said about that, and anyway, it’s none of our business!”
Harrison heard Stephanie tut loudly. “That is so typical of you,” she hissed. “He’s our son. Of course it’s our business. So his relationship hit a bit of rough patch, it’s our jobs as parents to show him that relationships need care and work. It’s not always easy.”
“You’re telling me,” Colin muttered.
Harrison had to stifle a laugh. He could only imagine what being married to Stephanie must be like. He rather thought Colin deserved a medal. But his smile quickly faded when he heard what she said next.
“Blake will be thinking it too. Mark my words. I know he’s still thinking about Nathan, I saw it in his face when that damn goat was in here. Embarrassment! Shame! Nathan would never have done something like that. Why do you think he hasn’t told us about Harrison in the first place? Because, deep down he knows that he ran out on Nathan too quickly. I know my son. Better than he knows himself, I’d wager. This is not a relationship that is going to last.”
Harrison leant his head against the door, his head whirring. As hard as it had been to listen to Stephanie’s assessment of him and the relationship, she was absolutely right. Why had Blake never mentioned him to his parents? Since they had officially been together, Blake had shown nothing but disdain for his ex and the reasons they broke up, and Harrison’s self-confidence had grown as a result, but now he could feel his mind flirting with those old feelings again, as Stephanie’s words repeated in his head.
Soon, he heard her complaining about how long he was taking in the shower and so, though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he strolled downstairs with a forced smile.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said in a tone he hoped was cheerful. “Shall we go?”
To Harrison’s surprise, Stephanie seemed rather enchanted with Harmschapel.
“It really is a lovely place,” she said fondly as they wandered through the village. “So picturesque. It’s like something you’d see in a classical painting.”
Harrison gave her a brief smile. “Yeah, I suppose it is. You kind of get used to it when you’ve lived here all your life.”
The sound of wheezing behind him alerted Harrison to the fact that Colin was clearly struggling with the hill they were climbing. “Are you alright?” Harrison asked him, slowing down.
“Aye, aye,” panted Colin. “I’ll be fine, lad. Just takes me a little bit longer to do these treks these days. Not her, mind.” He nodded his head at Stephanie who was striding far in front of them. “She could climb Everest. Hey, listen, son,” he murmured, pulling Harrison closer. “Has it got a pub, this village? Only, I could do with a drink. It’s thirsty work climbing this hill.”
Harrison nodded. “We’ve got The Dog’s Tail. It’s a nice place, I think you’ll like it. It’s just at the bottom of this hill.”
Colin nodded gratefully as they reached the top and began the journey down, his speed noticeably picking up at the thought of what the pub had to offer him. Harrison liked him, he reminded him of a Grandfather he had had when he was little. Granddad Joe had died when Harrison was very small, but he had vague memories of a warm, earthy man sneaking him sweets with a wink underneath the table while his mother was cooking the dinner. Harrison hoped that how well he was getting on with Colin would be helpful in changing Stephanie’s way of thinking that he was not right for Blake.
When they got to The Dog’s Tail, Colin walked towards the bar and ordered them all drinks, pints for him and Harrison and a small sherry for Stephanie. While they waited, Harrison and Stephanie sat in silence for a few moments until Harrison turned to her.
“So, you like Harmschapel then?”
Stephanie nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. I could see me being quite happy in a place like this.”
“Oh, are you thinking of moving?”
Stephanie pursed her lips as Colin brought the drinks over on a tray. “We’re getting quite close to retirement age. We must think of the future. But I think a village environment would suit me quite well. And the country air would do wonders for Colin, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, dear,” Colin said automatically, taking a sizable swig of his pint.
“Where are your parents, by the way?” Stephanie asked. “Do they live ‘round here?”
Harrison froze, his pint a few inches from his lips. “Erm, no, they live away, actually.”
“Away?” Stephanie pressed, looking at him over her glasses.
Harrison was starting to think that that look was the only reason she owned glasses. His mind raced. He was not sure that the time was right to inform Stephanie that both of his parents were in prison for the murder of his ex-boyfriend.
He was saved from having to think of a story when the pub door opened and Jacqueline, Blake’s landlady, walked in. She was wearing a short skirt that, in typical Jacqueline fashion, was too young for her, and her faded red hair was up in her usual, heavily hair sprayed, beehive. She smiled warmly when she saw Harrison.
“Hello, Harrison! Lovely to see you. And who’s this?”
She looked down at Colin and beamed at him, with a slight flutter of her eyelashes. “Jacqueline. I’m Harrison’s landlady. I live just across the road from him in the c
ottage opposite.”
Colin glanced at Stephanie who was taking in Jacqueline’s outfit with a distinct air of distaste. “Oh, aye. I’m Colin, this is my wife, Stephanie.”
“A pleasure,” Stephanie said, somewhat sharply.
“We’re Blake’s parents,” Colin added.
“Oh, I see!” Jacqueline said, clapping her hands together. “Oh, but this must be the first time you’ve seen him since he moved to Harmschapel. Where is he?”
“He’s at work,” Harrison replied.
“And it falls to you to entertain the in-laws,” Jacqueline chuckled, nodding at Harrison. “I see how it is. Well, welcome to Harmschapel, I’m sure I’ll see you around.” She threw another flirtatious look in Colin’s direction and then tottered off towards the bar.
Stephanie stared at her as Jacqueline hauled herself on to a barstool, and threw one leg over the other. “Is she a prostitute?” she asked Harrison, her eyes wide.
All Harrison could do was shake his head.
Eventually, he excused himself from the table and walked into the toilets, locking himself in one of the cubicles so that he could ring Blake. As the ringing tone buzzed in his ear, he prayed inwardly that Blake was going to get out of work on time. Harrison was unsure how much longer he could spend trying to keep Stephanie happy and he was starting to feel extremely stressed.
When Blake answered, he sounded tired and extremely irritable. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me,” Harrison said, sitting down on the seat of the toilet. “How’s it going?”
“Not great,” Blake replied shortly. “What’s up?”
“I was just wondering what time you’re going to be back tonight. I’m kind of running out of things to show your parents for the day.”
“I don’t know yet Harrison,” Blake snapped. Harrison recoiled slightly at his tone. “Right now, I’m in the middle of watching someone, so this really isn’t a good time to check up on me, alright?”
Harrison felt a twinge of anger, unsure of what to say now. He had wanted to confide in Blake as to what he had heard Stephanie saying that morning, but he was apparently not in the mood.
“Alright, fine,” Harrison snapped back. “And if you’re quite finished chewing on my head, I’ll have it back, please. I need to go and entertain your parents for the rest of the night.” He heard Blake start to reply, but before he could stop himself, Harrison had hung up. For a few seconds he stared at his phone. He had never spoken to Blake like that before.
“Brilliant. Well done, Harrison,” he muttered bitterly to himself. On top of everything else, he and Blake had just had their first row. He took a deep breath and, pushing the white noise that was now buzzing round his head as to whose fault it had been, he left the cubicle and walked back into the bar. What greeted him did not improve things.
Stephanie was stood up, staring at him, her eyes wide. “Prison?” she exclaimed. “Your parents are both in prison?”
Harrison’s mouth fell open in horror before he glanced at an extremely abashed Jacqueline who was sat on her bar stool with her head in her hands. “Sorry,” she mouthed. Her face was as red as her hair and she looked incredibly guilty.
Stephanie put her glasses on from round her neck and looked over them at Harrison. “I think we need to have a little talk, Harrison. Don’t you?”
5
Blake stared at his reflection in the rear-view mirror in disbelief, his mobile still clutched in his hand. “Blake Sebastian Harte,” he said under his breath, “you are an absolute idiot.”
Why had he snapped at Harrison like that? Blake knew more than anyone what a day in his mother’s company could be like and Harrison was under no obligation to entertain his parents for the day. He sighed and put his head back on the headrest. He made a mental note to go to the shop on his way home, whenever that actually happened, and buy Harrison a selection of apology gifts. He also felt guilty for lying to him about why the name ‘Bethany’ was written on the calendar. It somehow had completely slipped his mind, and even his parents turning up had failed to jog his memory, though now he thought about it, it should have been obvious why they had.
The reason Blake was in such a foul mood was because of his current situation. After leaving the station with Woolf, who Blake was finding more and more irritating as the hours drew on, they had driven in his silver sports car to a small, rundown carpark that had only ever vaguely brushed against Blake’s peripheral whenever he had driven past it on a drive in the direction of Clackton, a large town a few miles away from Harmschapel. A few hundred yards away was a decrepit petrol station that was still running, but which Blake had never thought to enter. It was this petrol station that Woolf had decided was worth them sitting here until they saw their targets.
Blake glanced up at the rear-view mirror again. Woolf was making his way back to the car having gone into a clump of bushes to relieve himself.
“Sorry about that, Harte,” Woolf said cheerily, climbing back into the driver’s seat. “When you gotta go, you gotta go.”
Blake shook his head. “We’ve been sat here for hours, what exactly are you hoping to see?”
“Patience, Harte,” Woolf replied soothingly. “I told you, I have it on good authority that James Pennine, the son, works at that gas station. I also happen to know that when he is working, his father always comes to pick him up at the end of his shift. All we have to do is wait. Then, we act.”
“Then if the son is in there, why don’t we just go and bring him in?”
“Cause we want the full package,” Woolf said slowly. “The dad and the kid.” He pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and offered it to Blake. “You smoke?”
Blake stared desperately at the packet. He had been trying to give up smoking for the best part of a year but kept failing.
“You mind if I do?” Without waiting for an answer, Woolf lit the cigarette with a clipper lighter and flamboyantly snapped the lid back down with a ‘snap.’ The smoke instantly wafted towards Blake, setting his cravings on edge.
“So, where did Angel find you?” Blake asked, in an effort to distract himself.
“London,” Woolf replied, checking his hair in the driver’s mirror. “I met him while we were working on a case similar to this. Much bigger, of course.”
“Of course,” replied Blake sardonically.
“I mean, we’re talking wide scale. I cracked that case right through the middle, impressed him, he kept my details. I’m kind of free agent, ya see, Harte. I go where I’m needed. Of course, back home, things were a lot easier. Such a weird country you’ve got here. We’re armed over there, so I don’t get anywhere near as much crap from suspects as I do here.”
“Just wave a gun, and everything solves itself, right?” Blake said.
“You got it. I know you guys are all scared of guns over here, but it gets results.”
“Yeah, it also causes the problems you need to get results for,” Blake replied. “But I don’t think this is the time for that conversation. You’re right. It’s different over here.”
Woolf merely shrugged and took a long pull on his cigarette. “So, that chick who works at the station.”
Blake rolled his eyes. “You mean Mini?”
“Mini,” repeated Woolf, smiling. Blake had to admit his teeth were shining white. “She single?”
“No. She’s in a very happy relationship with Matti. That’s the younger officer.”
“Happy relationship, huh?” Woolf grinned. “I’ve heard that one before.”
Blake shook his head in disbelief but said nothing.
For the next few hours, Blake remained as quiet as he could manage. Woolf continued bragging about all the huge cases he had solved single handily to the point that Blake doubted that Woolf would even notice if he got out and went home, which as time went on, was a prospect that was becoming more and more tempting. The sun began to set on the horizon, and soon they were sat in darkness.
Woolf had just begun to tell Blake how
it would be impossible to find anybody who knew more about cars than he did when there was movement from the entrance to the petrol station. A young man who Blake recognised as James Pennine stepped out and wandered along the forecourt. He was wearing a black polo neck, which Blake assumed was the uniform for the petrol station, and was looking up the road.
“…Course, this baby I got cheap. If you find yourself faced with a dealer who doesn’t know what they’re talking about, it’s too easy to get yourself the best deal -”
“Shut up,” Blake said suddenly. “Look, he’s there.”
Woolf narrowed his eyes and stared at James. “See, Harte? What did I tell you? Look at him, he’s waiting for his dad.”
Sure enough, two headlights appeared in the distance and as it got closer, Blake recognised the car as the one he had been pursuing with Gardiner the day before.
“Okay,” Woolf said sharply. “Let’s go.”
Trying not to let Woolf ordering him about get on his last nerve, Blake opened the car door and began walking towards the petrol station, with Woolf a few steps behind. They crossed the road, still unnoticed by James as the car pulled up next to him. When they were only a few feet away, Blake pulled out his identification. “James Pennine?”
James looked up at Blake as he opened the passenger door of the car, his mouth falling open. As they reached the car, Woolf leaned down to knock on the driver’s window. The rough, angry face of Keith Pennine glared back at them.
“Would you both like to come with us?” Woolf said, producing his own ID. “We’d like to have a little chat with you both.”
There was a pause, then Keith turned to his son and yelled “Get in!”
At once, James leapt into the car. Before he had even closed the door, the car’s wheels screeched loudly as Keith began reversing.
“Harte!” shouted Woolf. Blake turned in surprise to see Woolf already halfway back to the car. “Hurry up!”