by K Leitch
‘E loved that stupid dog,’ he said sadly, ‘e took it everywhere wiv ‘im. Poor fing, it’s probably lying low somewhere scared stiff. If it’s still alive that is, maybe ‘oo ever done Terry in killed the dog as well…bastard, if I ever find out who done this, ‘e is a dead man, I am not kidding you I will fucking kill ‘im.’
Duncan could see that Gabe was winding himself up again so he suggested that they take a break and sit down for a while. Once seated he tried again to find out what had happened with Terry.
‘How did Terry know that Mary was here in Kenley?’ he asked handing Gabe a cigarette and lighting one for himself.
‘She called ‘im didn’t she; ‘e came down ‘ere a few months back to meet up wiv ‘er. When ‘e got back ‘e was well loved up, said they was going to buy a small ’olding in Ireland or someink. I told ‘im not to be so fucking stupid…I mean ‘es a traveller aint ‘e,’e would soon get itchy feet…we ‘ad a right falling out about it as it goes. But then when we got ‘ere, ‘e started to get…um you know cold feet, ’e wasn’t so keen anymore…’e told me she ‘ad some mad scheme…’e didn’t want no part of it, but then I fink ‘e started finking it might get ‘er off ‘is back if ‘e went along wiv it like. Didn’t know it was anyfing like nicking a kid though…stupid fucker. We ‘ad a fight that night…you know when ‘e was shot…we ‘ad a right dustup, ‘cus ‘e told me about the kid. I told ‘im ‘e ‘ad to stay clear of ‘er ‘cus she was trouble, but ‘e said ‘e’d told ‘er to clear off…’e was going to give ‘er some money so she’d …you know piss off ‘ome to Ireland, ‘e was meeting ‘er that night to give ‘er the money.’
‘Wait a minute; he was meeting Mary? So maybe it was her that killed him. You had better tell the coppers all of this Gabe, everything, all about the kid…everything you know. It might help them to find this little boy, that is unless she’s already taken him to Ireland, but…’
He stopped because Gabe was shaking his head. ‘I aint telling them nuffing; they will just charge me if they fink I knew about ‘ow Terry ‘elped pinch the kid, they’ll fink I was in on it…no no way mate…I aint telling them nuffing,’ and he walked off again. Duncan caught up with him again.
‘They won’t charge you, they just need to find this child. Come on Gabe think about it…there’s a little boy out there somewhere, and he’s probably with this girl, and if she’s the one that’s killed Terry then who knows what she’s capable of.’ Gabe didn’t look convinced so Duncan changed tactics. ‘You don’t want her getting away with this do you Gabe? Why should she end up getting what she wants after she killed Terry in cold blood…this is what Terry would want you to do. Why don’t I call that Detective Inspector Right, if you explain it to her just like you’ve told me…I’m sure she’ll be so grateful for your help.’
‘Ok ok I’ll speak to ‘er…but I don’t know nuffing about where she’s got ‘im, I just know where she was planning on taking ‘im,’ said Gabe grumpily.
‘I am sure anything you can tell them will help mate, I’ll give her a call.’
And with that the two men walked back to the camp.
CHAPTER 30 - MAGGIE
Maggie was sitting out on the large patio at the back of her house enjoying a rare moment of quiet and a glass of wine. She had just arrived back from the hospital after spending another long evening sitting beside her sleeping son.
Jed was still making small amounts of progress; he had squeezed Maggie’s hand this evening for the first time which had brought her to tears. The doctors were still happy with him, all his vital signs were good and once again they said it was just a matter of time before he woke up. They suggested that Maggie talk to him about her day or anything else that he might respond to.
‘We are still not 100 percent sure whether people in comas are aware of anything around them, but there is some evidence that they do respond to their loved ones, and other things like favourite music, etc. So it might help, it certainly can’t hurt that’s for sure,’ said Dr French earlier.
‘I’m not so sure about that,’ Dom had joked, ‘you haven’t heard my mother when she gets started, she can talk for England and the language! She should have a warning round her neck like they do in films, you know not suitable for anyone under the age of 15.’
‘Shut the fuck up, you little shit,’ said Maggie in response, making the doctor laugh as he went on his way. Well, whether it was her bad language or not that had got through to Jed, he had squeezed her hand and she was smiling whilst remembering it.
It was getting really dark now and there was a chill in the air; so she reached up and switched on the lights that hung around the patio, and pulled a thick cardigan round her shoulders. She was just pouring herself another glass of wine, when she heard the distinctive low growling sounds of Greg’s Porsche pulling into her drive.
‘Fuck fuckety fuck,’ she thought angrily, ‘what the hell does he want at this time of night? They had barely spoken to each other on the rare occasions that they happened to meet at the hospital, neither one wanting to be the cause of any drama around Jed, so she couldn’t imagine what had brought him here. He must have spotted the lights from the back garden, because rather than knocking on the door he came straight round to where Maggie was sitting. He looked rather dishevelled; which was unusual for Greg who always made sure he looked immaculate, even on a football pitch.
‘Hi Maggs,’ he said, ‘sorry to disturb you so late, but I was passing and I thought I would pop in.’
Maggie looked at him in surprise he never ‘popped in’; in fact he was never just passing. He lived a good ten miles away, but she supposed she would find out soon enough what the problem was.
‘Fancy a glass of wine?’ she said getting another glass from cupboard near the outside barbeque area.
‘I’m not sure I should…driving you know, oh go on then just a small one, thanks,’ he sat down awkwardly and Maggie noticed for the first time that he was looking extremely uncomfortable, sort of nervous and shifty.
‘What’s going on Greg?’ she asked quietly as she watched him take a big gulp of wine, he seemed to be building up to saying something, so she sipped her own drink and waited, finally he took a deep breath.
‘This is going to sound stupid Maggs, and I’m not even sure I should have come but…it was like I didn’t have any choice in the matter, I knew I had to do something…say something…’
‘Oh for fucks sake Greg you’re scaring me now, is it Jed? Has that doctor told you something about him?’ Maggie had jumped up, and was grabbing onto Greg’s arm, he put a hand over hers.
‘No, god no, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that…I can’t stop thinking about you Maggs,’ she raised her eyes to his and looked at him in surprise. ‘I know, I know I have no right to say such things and…’ Maggie flung off his hand and moved away from him.
‘Too bloody right you shouldn’t say such things to me; “I can’t stop thinking about you Maggs”,’ she mimicked sarcastically. ‘What the fuck Greg! Oh no no no, don’t think you are going to do this to me; do you know how long it has taken me just to be able to live a normal life again, without anti-depressants or a couple of bottles of wine? No! This is not happening, so get back into your loud, expensive, dick on wheels and hit the road.’ She grabbed his arms again and tried to push him back out of the garden, but he was much bigger and stronger than her and was resisting with all his might, pleading all the time.
‘Maggie please, just listen to what I have to say…it’s all washed up with Misha and me, has been for a long time now. I realised ages ago that I had made the biggest mistake of my life, you and the boys, you are all I need. Please you have to give me a second chance…please Maggie…’
Greg suddenly realised that he had lost his audience; Maggie was staring at something over his shoulder. Something that was moving at the bottom of the garden; something that had moved into the pale light thrown out from the patio, just for a second, and was now hidden by the pitch black darkness. Mag
gie slowly walked down further into the garden trying to catch a glimpse of it again, Greg followed, ‘What is it,’ he whispered.
‘Ssssh,’ hissed Maggie, ‘I don’t know but it’s coming this way; it’s probably a dog or a small deer maybe, it seems to be injured though it’s moving very slowly,’ she started off down the garden towards it.
‘Maggie…Maggie, come back here…it might be dangerous, oh fuck it, wait for me.’ Greg caught up with her and they both stood halfway down the garden looking hard at the place that Maggie had first spotted it. But no matter how hard she peered into the blackness she could see no sign of it…but then she heard something! A faint coughing noise; barely audible, she stood completely still, hardly breathing, all her senses trained on hearing the noise.
‘Maggie…,’ started Greg.
‘Shhh,’ said Maggie again, ‘there…did you hear that?’ she whispered to Greg who stood as quietly as he could trying to hear what she could.
‘No…oh wait…yes it’s coming from over there,’ he pointed to the left hand side of the garden. They edged their way towards the moving thing, trying to keep near the edge of the hedge so as not to startle it. As they got closer the noises became clearer, but they still couldn’t see what it was until they were almost on top of it. There, lying on the path in front of them and growling quietly at them, was a tan and white springer spaniel. But what caught Maggie’s attention was the tiny blood stained hand that was coming from, what she had first thought was a bundle of old clothes, lying next to the dog. It was holding on to the dog’s collar as if its life depended on it and every so often the ‘bundle of old clothes’ let out a wheezy cough.
Maggie moved closer and put out a hand to gently touch it, whatever it was.
It jumped away from her as if it had been scalded, but Maggie grabbed it and held on tightly carefully started unwrapping the bundle.
‘Oh my god!’ said Greg shocked to the core, as its contents came into view. ‘Oh my god Maggie it’s…’
‘Little Owen Marshall,’ whispered Maggie tearfully as she stared into the biggest most terrified eyes she had ever seen.
‘Oh Greg I think it must be him!’ said Maggie as she pulled him to her; despite the dog barking threateningly at her, and the child resisting her, fighting like mad to get away. ‘It’s alright baby I’m not going to hurt you,’ she soothed, ‘poor poor little boy, you must be freezing…oh come on sweetheart, you’re safe now. Auntie Maggie’s going to take you inside and make you nice and warm…yes yes darling you are safe now.’
Maggie continued making soothing baby noises as she carried him back to the house; and he gradually began to realise that she meant him no harm and lay quietly in her arms, the spaniel followed protectively behind. Meanwhile Greg got onto the phone to Carla.
‘I can only assume it’s him Carla, but obviously I can’t be sure so…’
Carla said she would be there as quick as a flash, and Greg turned his attention to helping Maggie get him warmed up. Despite the fact that he was burning up, he was shaking uncontrollably and Maggie ran upstairs and found a woollen blanket to wrap him in. Meanwhile Greg was heating up milk for Owen and finding a bowl to put some leftover chicken in for the dog, who had made it clear that she was not leaving them alone with her charge.
‘Put plenty of sugar in that milk Greg,’ Maggie said as she came back into the kitchen. ‘There you go my sweetheart let’s wrap you up and get you all lovely and warm…poor poor little baby.’ She turned to Greg, ‘How long ago did you ring Carla? What’s taking her so long? Do you think we should ring for an ambulance or do you think she’ll get one?’
‘Maggie sweetheart calm down,’ said Greg coming over and putting an arm around her shoulders, ‘it’s only been about 10 minutes, she’ll be here very soon and I’m sure they will have called for an ambulance…stop panicking...god you’re shaking almost as much as he is, I think you could do with a glass of this hot milk as well.’
‘Stop fussing Greg…I’m not the one that’s been taken from his home and locked up somewhere. Did you see the state of his clothes…poor, poor little mite, we can only imagine what he has been through. Oh thank god that looks like that’s Carla now.’ Maggie ran to open the front door.
Blue flashing lights lit up the front drive as Carla arrived followed by an ambulance. Carla and Ted came straight in and went through to the living room, where the child was sitting bundled up in a blanket. Serious wide eyes looked up at them and Carla found that she had to blink back tears. Little Owen was safe, he was obviously in need of medical attention and he still hadn’t uttered a word – but he was safe now.
Carla left Owen to the paramedic’s expert care, got onto the RSPCA to get them to come and check out the dog, and then went into the kitchen to speak to Maggie and Greg.
‘Sweetheart you look done in,’ she said to Maggie as she gave her a hug. That was all it took for Maggie to break down completely and for a while she just sobbed in Carla’s arms. A few minute later, when she had found her composure again she began to recount the events of the evening, carefully leaving out Greg’s declaration of undying love.
‘I thought it might be an injured animal at first,’ she said. ‘I know the gypsies were out shooting rabbits last night; so I thought you know, maybe a dog or deer or something like that had caught a bullet. But then it sort of disappeared and I couldn’t be sure that I’d seen anything at all, until I heard him cough and then Greg heard it too so I knew I wasn’t mad, and then we found him… well we saw that lovely dog, and even though he was lying next to it, right there in front of us, he was pretty unrecognisable as a child at first. Poor baby, oh my god, imagine if I hadn’t been outside tonight…oh god he would have died…’ and she was off again.
One of the paramedics put his head round the door to say that they would be taking Owen to hospital in a minute and so they all trooped back into the living room. Owen had had a drip put into his arm and was lying on an ambulance trolley; he was still wrapped in Maggie's woollen blanket, as he had been reluctant to let go of it when the paramedics had tried to replace it with one of their own. One of the hardest things was to get him onto the trolley without the dog trying to follow, both dog and boy had tried to hang on to each other, but Greg had managed to drag the dog away and put her in the laundry room where she was howling and scratching at the door.
In the bright lights of the living room it was very obvious that Owen was very ill; his skin was the colour of putty and his breathing was laboured. Only his eyes seemed to have any life left in them, darting around the room watching everybody intently, tears streaming down his face as he listened to the dog howling.
‘Don’t worry sweetheart, I will make sure she is fine, and as soon as you are well I’m sure you’ll be able to see her again,’ said Maggie soothingly as the trolley passed by, Owen’s hand flashed out of the blanket and he grabbed onto her sleeve pulling her along with him.
‘I think he wants you to go with him Maggs, if he can’t have the dog,’ said Carla smiling at her, ‘would you mind?’
‘I’ll get my jacket,’ was all she said and soon the ambulance was on its way, with Carla and Ted following behind.
‘First things first,’ said Carla as she handed the phone to Ted. ‘Let’s give mum and dad the good news shall we?’
CHAPTER 31 - TRACY
Tracy was woken from her after work nap by Buster barking frantically at the front door. She stumbled out to see who it was to be confronted by an enormous bunch of flowers; hiding behind the bouquet though was a much less pleasant surprise.
‘Surprise Tracy darling,’ said a gorgeous blonde girl with a cheeky smile. She shoved the flowers at Tracy and pushed past her to greet an extremely excited Buster.
‘Buster! Oh my god, how fat are you? What the hell are you feeding him on Trace? He seriously needs to go on a diet.’
‘He’s not fat, he’s just fluffy,’ said Tracy in automatic defence of her beloved dog as she followed her uninvited guest down the hall,
noticing with misgiving the number of bags that she seemed to be carrying.
‘Er… not that it’s not lovely to see you Lisa darling, but what the bloody hell are you doing here? I was under the impression that you were in Spain with Mum and Dad.’
‘Oh god I couldn’t be doing with that,’ said Lisa sitting down at the kitchen table, ‘be a lamb and get us a cup of tea Tracy love, I am absolutely fagged, oh and talking of fags you haven’t got any have you? I’m gasping haven’t had one since early this morning just outside Malaga Airport.’
‘Sorry no I haven’t; and you shouldn’t be smoking anyway at your age. What would Mum and Dad say if they knew?’
‘Oh they wouldn’t care, Mum’s so busy swilling sangria with Daphne Darwimple, and that randy old goat Colonel Bragg. She doesn’t care what I do and Dad’s just as bad now he’s got into the local golfing crowd.’ Tracy rolled her eyes; she had long been the buffer between her parents and her sixteen year old sister. A late ‘surprise’ for the family, who had been running her parents ragged ever since she could talk and walk.
‘That’s all very well Lisa but why are you here?’ Tracy poured out the tea for Lisa and made herself a hot orange drink (which seemed to be the only thing that she could keep down at the moment), sat down opposite her sister and wondered (not for the first time) how it was that two siblings, born to the same parents could be so different.
Where Tracy was short and dumpy (a little over 5ft, with a bust size more suited to someone at least a foot taller), Lisa was tall and willowy. Tracy’s blond locks came courtesy of the local hairdressing salon; whereas Lisa had long, thick naturally blond hair that, at the moment had been bleached even lighter by the Spanish sun, and complimented her golden tan and large blue eyes to perfection. In fact that was what Lisa was in Tracy’s eyes a piece of perfection, which only served to emphasize her own shortcomings. And, she was definitely not what a hormonal, and already paranoid, Tracy needed at the moment flitting around the house looking wonderful, while Tracy just got fatter and fatter.