by Robert Innes
“I’m fine,” Sally replied. “I was ringing to see how you were. You know, with the time of year and everything.”
Blake leant across the bed and pushed the bedroom door closed with his foot. It wasn’t that the anniversary of Bethany’s death had skipped his mind, but everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours had distracted him. “Oh yeah, that. I’m alright. Or rather, I would be if my parents hadn’t decided to show up out the blue.”
“You’re kidding me. Oh God. Please tell me your mother hasn’t eaten Harrison.”
Blake chuckled. “Near as dammit. She found out about everything that went on with his parents. So, obviously, she dealt with the whole thing with an unparalleled amount of tact and diplomacy.”
“Oh, the poor boy. I can imagine. Still, though. It’s Harrison – I bet he understands, right? I mean, he knows more than anyone what it’s like to have a mother who’s slightly overboard with the whole protecting her son thing.”
Blake glanced at the closed bedroom door. He could just hear Harrison clattering around in the kitchen below. “Well, that’s the thing,” he said quietly. “I haven’t told him.”
There was a pause. “What do you mean you haven’t told him? Haven’t told him what?”
“About Bethany.”
“What? Why the hell not?”
Blake groaned. “That’s the thing, I don’t know. I guess it’s just because it’s personal. Since they’ve been here, well, Mum more than Dad, I’ve been thinking about just why I came here to Harmschapel. What exactly I was running away from. Yeah, the whole Nathan thing was a huge part of it, but it was more than that. I needed to just get away and live my own life. I just haven’t realised it until recently. In some ways, I guess Nathan did me a favour.”
Sally sighed. “I get it, Blake, but why not tell him? It’s not like it’s some dark secret you’ve got. It’s not your parents in prison. It was just a tragic and horrible thing that happened to your family. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
Blake’s eyes fell on a picture of him and Harrison on the bedside table. It had been taken soon after they had become an item in The Dog’s Tail, both beaming happily at the camera seemingly without a care in the world. “I know.”
“And anyway, Blake, I know you too well,” Sally scolded. “You think that just because Harrison had so much happen to him to get him to this point that it would be wrong of you to show him that you’ve got your own skeletons. A time of your life that you find difficult to face up to.”
“Maybe,” Blake conceded.
“There’s no maybe about it,” Sally replied sharply. “And you’re wrong. You’re in a relationship, and this is the sort of thing you need your boyfriend’s support with, no matter what your mother might say.”
Blake picked up the picture of he and Harrison, and looked at it fondly. He knew Sally was right, and at that moment, he felt stupid for trying to hide anything from Harrison.
The two of them chatted a bit longer, Blake enquiring how things were at his old station, Sally giving him the latest gossip and before he knew it, Harrison had called to him that dinner was ready. Blake was about to end the call when a thought struck him. “Sal, does the name Inspector Alec Woolf mean anything to you?”
“No. Should it?”
“If you ask him, it certainly should,” Blake replied dryly. He quickly told Sally about what had been happening over the past couple of days and how Woolf had arrived.
Sally snorted with derision. “He sounds like an absolute tit.”
“He is,” Blake replied. “But, if you’ve got a bit of time on your hands, could you find out what you can about him? There’s something that doesn’t smell right, and it’s not just his awful aftershave.”
“Anything for you, my darling. Now, go and spend a lovely evening with your man.”
“I will. Talk soon.”
He ended the call and ran downstairs to find Harrison sitting down at the dining room table, a tall candle lit in the middle between their two plates.
Blake smiled as he sat down. “This looks amazing. Thank you.”
“No worries,” Harrison replied, blushing slightly. “Sally alright?”
“Yeah,” Blake said, helping himself to the garlic bread. “I’ve asked her to do me a bit of a background check on Woolf. There’s something not right about him.”
Harrison’s eyes widened as he placed a huge forkful of pasta into his mouth. “Hmm! That reminds me,” he said, chewing frantically. “I overheard him having a weird phone conv –“
But before he could continue, there was a sharp knock on the front door. They looked at each other for a moment, clearly neither expecting company.
“I’ll get it,” Blake said, placing his uneaten garlic bread slice back on his plate. “Whoever it is, I’ll try and get rid of them.”
He opened the door to find his father standing there. “Alright, son?” he said in his usual gruff voice.
“Dad. We were just having dinner.”
Colin sighed and stepped inside. “Your mother wants you. Or rather she wants both of us.”
Blake groaned as he closed the door. “Why?”
His father looked at him sternly. “You know why, lad. You know what day it is today.”
Blake glanced at Harrison who was watching them both. “Yeah,” he said. “I do. She can’t just click her fingers and I come running though. Especially when she can’t even be bothered to come get me herself. You’re not her errand boy, Dad.”
“Blake, any other time I’d agree with you, son – but this is important to her. And it’s important to me.”
“I can’t just leave Harrison like this, Dad,” Blake said.
“He knows, lad.”
Blake raised his eyebrows and stared at Colin. “What do you mean he knows?”
Colin cleared his throat and sat down at the table, swiping the piece of garlic bread off Blake’s plate. “I told him about Bethany this morning. So, you don’t have to pretend anymore, lad.”
Blake turned his head towards Harrison who was busying himself with the pasta on his plate. “Harrison? Is this true?”
Harrison placed his fork down and looked up at Blake awkwardly. “Well, yeah. He wanted to tell me why your mum had been acting sort of crazy. I didn’t say anything, because I figured that you hadn’t told me for a reason.”
Blake was unsure as to whether he was more annoyed with Colin for telling him before he had had a chance, or with himself for underestimating Harrison’s emotional maturity.
Finally, he sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Fine. I’ll come. But Harrison is coming with us.”
Colin glanced at Harrison nervously. “Erm, no offence, Harrison, but I don’t think that’s such a good idea, son.”
“Blake, I don’t want to cause you any problems. You go. It’s only pasta, I don’t mind.” Harrison added.
“Well, I do,” Blake said firmly. “She’s got to accept that Nathan is a thing of the past and that Harrison is my present and, I hope, my future as well. As far as I’m concerned, he’s as much a part of this family as she thought Nathan was.” He walked behind Harrison and placed his hands on his shoulders. Colin still looked reluctant, but finally agreed.
“You’re more like your mother than you’d care to admit,” he chuckled. “I dunno what she’s going to say, but, let’s go, before she sends out a search party.”
When they arrived at the B&B, the sun was setting and the village seemed to be bathed in a warm orange glow. As they walked around the corner, Blake was perturbed and surprised to see a familiar silver sports car parked outside the building.
“Dad?” he exclaimed. “Have you met the driver of this car?”
Colin glanced at the car. “Oh, yeah. Seems like a nice enough fella. Bit up himself, but then, some of those yanks are, aren’t they? He was showing me his car. Couldn’t stop talking about it, truth be told. I have to say though, she’s a beauty.” They stopped as Colin stopped and admired the car for a
few moments. “I’ve always wanted one of these. Gorgeous car.”
“So, he’s staying here?” Blake murmured.
“Aye,” Colin replied as they walked into the B&B. “He’s a few rooms down from us. He mentioned he was working with you at the station. Full of praise for you, as it goes.”
“Really?” Blake said, glancing at Harrison. “You surprise me.”
They entered the B&B, Blake and Harrison hand in hand. Blake briefly greeted Nora, the owner. She was sat at the reception desk cuddled up to a cat that appeared to be more fur than animal, with its face just visible through a mane of fluff round it’s head.
“Just going up to visit my parents, Nora,” he said.
“Alright, my love,” Nora replied. She seemed more preoccupied with the cat than who had just entered her establishment. As they climbed the stairs, Blake heard a familiar voice echoing through the corridor.
“Let me tell you, Stephanie – those guys had nothing once I’d got them in that interview room. Some cops have it, some don’t. They just go to pieces under my questioning.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” he could hear his mother replying, sounding impressed. “And I must say, it is a comfort to know that the public has officers like you on the force”
Blake rolled his eyes as they arrived at the top of the stairs. Woolf was leaning against the doorway of the Hartes’ room, Stephanie in front of him, looking far friendlier than she had done at any point since she had arrived in Harmschapel.
“Evening, Mum,” Blake said, glancing at Woolf.
“Oh, Blake,” Stephanie replied brightly. “Alec here was just telling me all about his work in America. It sounds so exciting!” She turned back to Woolf, clearly absorbed. “It must be so dangerous with all those guns though.”
Woolf shrugged, then in a swift movement with his hand, he flicked a pair of sunglasses he had resting on the top of his head down over his eyes. “It can be. They say cops never have any guarantee that they’re ever going to come home from their shifts, but that’s more true in the United States. There’s more psychos out there than ever before, and we need our guns to protect us. Thank God we got a president in charge who understands that.”
Blake stared at Woolf in disbelief. He was chewing gum and the completely unnecessary sunglasses made him look more of an idiot than Blake had previously thought was possible. Somehow, outside of work, Woolf was even more arrogant and the fact that his own mother was feeding this irritated him even further. She normally hated people chewing gum, but apparently Woolf was an exception.
“Anyway,” Woolf said, flashing Stephanie a grin. “I’ll leave you guys to it. Your son here is a lot of fun to work with. He’s got a bit to learn, but we all did once, I guess. Have yourselves a nice evening. See you tomorrow, Harte.”
Blake was too annoyed to reply. He just glared at Woolf as he strutted past and into his room a few doors down.
“Such a nice man,” Stephanie commented. “What a life he must have led to make the UK Police force want him. Very impressive. Harrison, good evening. What are you doing here?”
Blake took hold of Harrison’s hand and gripped it tightly. “He’s here with me, Mum. The sooner you realise that Harrison is now part of this family, the happier we’ll all be.”
Stephanie looked at Blake over her glasses. “Blake, tonight is not the time for you to be rebelling. We can talk about all this another time. Tonight, of all nights, I’m sure you would not begrudge me a bit of private family time?”
“Harrison knows what today is, Mum,” Blake replied hotly. “I’m not keeping it a secret from him anymore.” He exchanged a look with Colin. He knew that it was better for his father if Stephanie thought that Blake had been the one to divulge the details, rather than Colin. His father smiled at him gratefully, but Stephanie looked outraged.
“You told him?” she murmured. “Blake, I don’t want the whole world knowing that I -” She stopped, her lip quivering. When she spoke again, it was with the type of fragility she only tended to have this time of year. “I don’t want the whole world knowing our private business.” She wiped her eyes and looked at him sternly. “Now, please. I’m sorry, Harrison, but I would rather Blake was here on his own. I can assure you that it has nothing to do with our discussion yesterday.”
She turned on her heels and walked into the room, closing the door smartly behind her. Colin sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “You tried, lads. Come on, Blake. Harrison, I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m not having her -”
“Blake,” Harrison said, pulling him away from the door. “Listen to me.”
As Colin followed Stephanie into the room, Harrison held on to Blake’s arm and pulled him back. “Look, you go. I don’t need to be here. There’s no point in me upsetting your mum at a time like this.”
“I want you to be here,” replied Blake, taking hold of his hand.
“I know, and I want to be here too,” Harrison said. “But let’s be honest, I’m only here really to prove a point. We’ve got three hundred and sixty-four other days of the year to do that. Let her have tonight with just you. Once tonight’s over and done with, then we can concentrate on the whole you and me thing.”
Blake looked up at the door his father had just disappeared through and sighed, before kissing Harrison softly on the forehead. “You, Harrison Baxter, are wiser than you give yourself credit for.”
Harrison grinned and gave a small shrug. “I know. You have no idea how much pasta and pesto I’m going to eat tonight. And all the garlic bread.”
Blake laughed loudly and gave his boyfriend a tight hug. “Enjoy. I’ll be back tonight.”
“Alright, see you later.”
Blake kissed him again, then walked into his parents’ room. His mother had prepared a meal and was pouring wine into three glasses. She looked up as Blake entered, alone.
“Thank you,” she said. “Now, take a seat. Nora, that nice lady downstairs with the ugly cat, she let me use the oven in the kitchen. Tuck in.”
Despite how annoyed he was with her, Blake’s stomach was now aching from hunger after not eating a bite of the meal Harrison had made, so he sat at the table. Once they were all sat down, Stephanie held up her wine glass. “To Bethany.”
Blake glanced at his father, who winked at him. Then, they all chinked their wine glasses together. “To Bethany.”
As they ate, none of them had any way of knowing the danger that Harrison was about to find himself in.
11
Outside in the corridor, Harrison was feeling good about himself. He felt he had made the right decision in telling Blake to go in on his own, and was hoping that it would go some way to showing Stephanie that he was good for her son. As he made his way back towards the stairs, he heard Woolf’s voice.
“Look, I’ll deal with Harte, you just concentrate on finding that dumb husband of yours.”
Harrison frowned at hearing Blake’s name, forcing him to turn back towards Woolf’s room.
“How am I supposed to know where he is?” Woolf continued angrily. “You can quit the waterworks, I know you too well and I know when you’re lying to me. I had your back at that interview in that disgusting place you call a house, but if you keep feeding me BS, then I promise you that you’re on your own.”
Harrison guessed that Woolf was talking on his phone, and though he only knew the sketchiest of details regarding Blake’s case, it sounded like there was more going on under Blake’s nose than he thought. He pressed himself against the wall by the door and listened intently.
“I don’t believe you, Caroline. Come on, you owe me. If it wasn’t for me, both Keith and James would be in a cell.” There was a pause, before Woolf snapped again angrily, “Of course I’m having trouble with Harte, you stupid woman! Y’know this crummy B&B I’m staying in? His parents are just two rooms across from me, and Harte himself, and that weedy little boyfriend of his, have just turned up. So yeah, to answer your question, Harte is becoming a problem.” He stopped for
a few moments. Harrison was just starting to wonder if Woolf had hung up when there was suddenly the sound of a loud and forceful inhalation. Harrison frowned again. It sounded like Woolf had just sniffed something loudly. He then heard Woolf gasp and curse, before continuing his conversation. “And you wonder why I take this stuff. Yeah, I know you’re going through a tough time right now, Caroline, and I’m sorry about James and whatever, but he brought that on himself.” Another pause. “Don’t give me that crap about how clean he was. Let’s be real – he took after his Dad, right? Just stay at the house, I’m on my way to you. Course I’m alright to drive like this, I’ve been doing it for years.”
Harrison heard movement behind the door. Looking around frantically for somewhere to hide, he spotted a cleaning cupboard a couple of doors down. Praying that it was unlocked, he dived across the corridor and pulled the door handle. It opened, just as Woolf’s door flung open and he stepped out, taking the stairs at a run. Harrison watched him leave through the gap in the cleaning cupboard door then stepped out. He debated whether it would be appropriate to tell Blake what he had heard; He did not imagine Stephanie would be too thrilled about them being interrupted again. Deciding it would be best to text Blake, allowing him to deal with it later, Harrison pulled his mobile out of his pocket. Then, he realised that the door to Woolf’s room was still ajar. Harrison’s heart skipped a beat. He knew that Blake would probably have loved the chance to investigate that room given half a chance. Harrison crept to the end of the corridor and looked down the stairs. Woolf was nowhere to be seen. Checking one more time that the coast was clear, Harrison entered the room.
Unlike the room that the Hartes were currently in, Woolf’s single room was quite small. A large rucksack that had clothes spilling out of it was lying on the floor. Harrison rummaged through it. Aside from the clothes, the rucksack was filled with the usual assortment of odds and ends, a bathroom bag filled with a razor, toothpaste and toothbrush, and aftershave, an array of boxer shorts and socks, and a mobile phone charger. But there were also several magazines, all of them with flash cars on the front. One particularly frayed copy that Harrison pulled out had a makeshift bookmark in it. Opening it to the page, Harrison was surprised to see an article under the heading “Cars from the 90s.” The car that had been chosen for that week’s article did not looks especially impressive. It looked like the sort of car that was cheap and common around any number of roads in the country, though Harrison was not clued up enough to know anything else about the “Accord Aerodeck.” Even more strangely, was a picture of the back of the car. It was not so much the picture itself that confused Harrison, it was the fact that whoever had been reading the magazine, presumably Woolf, had circled the picture of the rear of the car in red ink. Harrison placed the magazine back in the rucksack and looked around the rest of the room. Immediately, he spotted another magazine on the bed. It was a top shelf ‘lad’s mag’ with a buxom blonde woman on the cover, pouting at the camera wearing very little aside from a skimpy set of underwear. But on the magazine’s cover was a very tightly rolled up twenty-pound note, next to which was a very small plastic bag containing what looked to Harrison like white powder. It was this substance which Harrison had presumably heard Woolf inhaling before. Harrison thought back to what he had heard Woolf saying on the phone. ‘And you wonder why I take this stuff.’