The Truth We Chase

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The Truth We Chase Page 20

by Carl Richards


  I’m trying to remove the cover off the phone to insert the new SIM when I feel the presence of somebody behind me, slowly they make their way to the side of me, before finally taking a seat next to me.

  ‘I know you didn’t do any of it,’ he says.

  I continue to mess with my phone.

  ‘When I say “any of it”, I mean “any of it”. I know you didn’t try it on with Lisa when you walked her home that night and I know you wouldn’t be capable of hurting Jill.’

  I turn to the side to see who is sat next to me and find Phil; my lifelong friend sat there.

  ‘Thanks, I could do with people who believe in me right now.’

  ‘You’ll find virtually everyone who knows you, is on your side, Joe. So how come you’re still here?’

  Turning to face Phil I finish his sentence for him ‘... and not back in the States? They’ve frozen everything I have, assets, money, cards; my Green Card and Passport have both been suspended by the authorities. I guess I’m officially grounded! I’ve probably got another couple of months before things return to normal... well, as normal as they can be.’

  Phil puts his hand on my shoulder. ‘Fancy a pint?’

  ‘No money Phil, but thanks anyway.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, I’ll shout you a couple of pints, for old times’ sake.’

  ‘Go on then, I’ll take you up on your very kind offer, I just need to take this milk back then I’ll meet you. Where do you fancy?’

  ‘The Liz? I’ll give you a lift, I was just on my way back to my car when I saw you.’

  We drive back to my Aunt and Uncles house, drop the milk off then continue to the pub. He parks up on the side street and we make our way up the steps to the side entrance. As we enter, I stop and look around, I can’t believe in all the time I’ve been away nothing has changed, everything is exactly the same!

  We head over to the bar, Phil orders a couple of pints and we go and sit at the back of the pub.

  I lift my glass Phil does likewise, we tap them together, ‘cheers.’

  ‘Cheers! Are you okay to talk about what happened?’

  ‘Yeah, I really haven’t processed the enormity of what happened to Jill though. I think my feelings of guilt because I couldn’t stop what happened to her are suppressing my feelings of grief. I dread the day those feelings come back to the fore; I guess they will, one day.’

  ‘So, what brought you back in the first place?’

  ‘Jill did. I got an email from her and do you know what Phil? It seemed so right. The day that the email arrived I had been on and off the computer, I was restless almost as if, subconsciously, I was waiting for that email to drop into my inbox. Then the timing was perfect, I had Easter off, money in the bank, direct flights from Newark to Manchester, ten minutes from my apartment to the airport, an overnight flight, then ten minutes from the airport to here, I get to see Jill and our old friends again, have a catch-up, a laugh and a few beers. It couldn’t have been more perfect... except...’

  Phil picks up his pint and almost drinks it in one. As he puts the empty glass back on the table, he turns to face me, I feel somewhat responsible for that email, I gave out your email address... sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, the email and coming over here, they were both good things, things that wouldn’t have happened otherwise. Perhaps it was fate, after all, Jill would have been in the valley on that Easter Sunday regardless. So, and I hate to say this, but the outcome for her would have been the same, maybe? Being back here meant I got to see her one last time, before...’ I feel a sorrow surge wash over my brain as I say that last sentence. ‘I’m just going to the Gents,’ I say, as I slide my chair back and stand up. Whilst I do need to go, it is mainly to hide my sadness.

  ‘Do you want another pint?’ Phil asks.

  I turn as I’m walking away, ‘I’m okay, thanks.’

  I enter the toilets, still thinking about what has just been said, wondering why I hadn’t considered the fact that the outcome for Jill would have been the same regardless of whether I had been there or not. While it didn’t make the situation any better it did ease the guilt I had been feeling.

  I make my way back to the table to find Phil has got himself another pint.

  ‘Blimey, you don’t mess about.’ I nod towards his full pint.

  ‘I like to make the most of my days off, Joe. It’s rare to find anyone to go drinking with on a weekday afternoon. So anyway, what about this bloke who attacked Jill, you must have had a good look at him?’

  ‘I did, and that is the most frustrating part of all of this, I know his face, I’ve seen him somewhere before but I can’t place him for the life of me.’

  ‘Sorry if this is totally insensitive Joe, but nearly ninety percent of murders are committed by someone the victim knew, was it someone from our childhood or one of our old friends? If the murderer was known to Jill and recognised by you, surely he must be local?’

  ‘No, definitely not.’

  ‘Definitely not?’

  ‘Well, maybe not, then. I’ve searched my memory as far back as I can, I’ve considered everyone, even people from our school days, and I came up with a big fat nothing.’

  We drink another couple of pints and move on to more general small talk before I realise that it’s getting late.

  ‘Sorry Phil, but I need to go, hopefully I’ll be starting work in The Mitre pub so I’ll be around more. Call in at the weekend and we’ll sort out a lad’s night out.’

  I thank him for his generosity, shake his hand and make my way to the front of the pub then out on to the street as I start the walk back to my Aunt and Uncle’s house.

  Fifteen minutes later and I’m back; I let myself in.

  ‘In here Joe.’

  It was my Aunt Shelagh’s voice calling me to the lounge.

  I walk in and sit down opposite her and Bill.

  ‘Have you lost Luciana?’ I quip.

  ‘She’s upstairs getting ready.’

  I stand up to leave the room and go upstairs.

  ‘No Joe, wait here.’

  ‘It’s fine, I’ve lived with her and Ana in a shared apartment for six months, there’s very little that will shock me!’

  In a more authoritative voice Shelagh orders me to sit down, which I do.

  ‘I see you still haven’t topped-up that phone yet, I tried to contact you an hour ago.’

  ‘The SIM card had been cancelled, I take it you haven’t used it for a while, so I had to buy a new one which means it has a new number.’

  I reach into my pocket for the packaging with the new number on and hand it to Bill. He takes out his own phone and adds the number to his contacts.

  Shelagh gets up to leave the room. ‘Right, I’m going up to see how she’s getting on.’

  About an hour later Shelagh reappears in the lounge. ‘Are you ready Joe?’

  Now, if I had been standing up when Luciana walked into the room, I’d have fallen down. She makes her way in and stands just inside the doorway wearing a rich cobalt blue lace dress, with matching blue high heels and a clutch bag, nude lip gloss on her lips and a subtle amount of mascara to enhance her already beautiful eyes. The plunge neckline of her dress shows off a stunning crystal pendant necklace.

  This was a look I’d never seen before, she looked so feminine. In all the time I’d known Luciana she had never worn a dress, or jewellery, or high heels, or make-up. She was always more comfortable in sneakers, jeans, t-shirt, hoody or her all-time favourite, #30 Martin Brodeur ice hockey jersey. Even for work she wears a trouser suit and carries herself in a tense, tough, feisty way. Tonight though, her aura is different, more relaxed, more sensual. Luciana looks excited, almost as if she is finding this new look liberating. She makes her way over and takes a seat next to me, Shelagh follows and as she passes me, she puts her finger under my chin and pushes in an upwards direction in order to shut my mouth.

  Eventually, the four of us leave the house, I have spruced myself up, put together the best
clothing that I have from my very limited selection, and hope that I have done enough to wow Luciana to the same extent that she has me.

  Bill drives us to the hotel and the four of us enjoy pre-dinner drinks before Shelagh and Bill leave us to our meal and subsequent last night together.

  JUST AS WE ARE DRIFTING off to sleep the phone at the side of the bed rings. The dawn wake-up call signals our last couple of hours together. Room Service brings a continental breakfast to us and all too soon we’ve packed and are heading to reception to check out and to catch the shuttle bus across to the airport departure terminal.

  In the terminal I stand clear of the back of the queue and I watch Luciana snake her way to the check-in desk. A few minutes later she re-joins me, presses herself against my body and with her left hand behind my head she pulls me in to a long sensual kiss, her right-hand slides down my back and into the rear pocket of my jeans.

  Slowly she pulls back and removes her hand from my back pocket. With an inquisitive look on her face she brings the object she has just found in my pocket up to her face.

  ‘What is that?’

  ‘It’s a...’

  Luciana examines the object and then bursts out laughing. Through her laughter she tries to speak, ‘it’s a one half of a “you complete me” jigsaw keyring... oh Joe, please don’t tell me you’ve bought me this and the other half is in my suitcase waiting to be discovered back home?’

  ‘No, nothing like that.’

  ‘Good because you know I hate cheesy gestures!’

  Luciana pauses as she thinks for a moment.

  ‘So, what exactly are you doing with one half of a “you complete me” jigsaw keyring in your back pocket, are you cheating on me already?’

  ‘It was attached to my suitcase when I flew out of Newark to come back here and I thought...’

  ‘... and you thought I’d done it?’ Luciana bursts into laughter again. ‘Yeah right, just my style... not! That’s got Ana written all over it.’

  There’s another pause, then with a knowing look she hands the keyring back.

  ‘So, you obviously knew that a cheesy gesture wouldn’t be my style and yet you still convinced yourself that I did it, so that means... way back then, you had a thing for me... whilst you were dating Ana?’

  She slaps my backside, ‘man you are insatiable!’

  She links me as we walk down to the entrance to the departure lounge, we check the screens and her flight is on time. Luciana turns to face me once more, and, after one last hug and a kiss she pulls away, ‘so, I’ll see you on the other side Joe...’ and with that, she turns and walks towards the security line.

  At the desk, Security has checked both her boarding card and passport; as they are returned to her, she waves to me one last time before disappearing off to the departure gates.

  Chapter 30

  I drag myself and my suitcase down to the arrivals hall and make my way to the coffee shop to pass some time.

  After an hour I feel the need to move on, so I head to the Skylink Walkway to take me across to the train station. I have a weird feeling of déjà vu as I leave the same terminal at the same airport by the same train to the same station with the same suitcase, as I did when I first arrived back in Manchester. After buying my ticket I make my way to the waiting train, almost immediately it departs. Nine minutes later and I’m stepping off the train and on to the platform at my destination. I leave the station along the large ramp that takes me to the fork in the road. I’m so wrapped up in the past that I take the road to the right, the road that takes me to the hotel.

  I stop dead in my tracks and a shiver runs down my spine. I have just realised that I am on autopilot, almost as if I am working off memories rather than conscious decisions. I was heading to the hotel as if I am reliving my first day back here.

  I cross over on to the main road that takes me up towards the village, the road passes Jill’s old pub and the street I grew up on, it also passes the pub that I returned to on the first day back here. I continue on up, past the shops where Lisa, Jill and myself had our altercation and then, finally, I’m stood outside my new temporary home and workplace. It is also the last pub Jill and myself visited together before “that day”.

  As I walk down the cobbled street to the entrance of the pub, I get another flashback, Jill is at my side, slightly ahead of me doubled up in laughter, I hear her voice ‘stop it, stop it, my ribs are aching.’ She can hardly breathe through her laughing and then she delivers that line, ‘oh, I swear a little bit of wee came out then!’

  I am laughing out loud as I walk down the street, fully immersed in the flashback.

  A parent walking his child to school pulls her close to him and gives me a wide berth.

  It’s eight-thirty in the morning, I’m walking down a cobbled street with my suitcase doing a little jig as the wheels bounce from one sett to the other and I’m laughing out loud at something only I can see. I’d give me a wide berth too!

  The pub is locked up so I continue down to and through the park gates. Passing the bowling green, I climb the steep path to the higher ground, to the benches with a view. I sit down on the same bench where Lisa and myself sat on my first night back. I get to thinking about this morning’s trip from the airport and how it had evoked so many memories, almost as if my original four-day trip had just been played out in full over the last couple of hours, minus the tragic ending.

  I watch the aircraft departing Manchester airport as they climb sharply in front of me before banking to the left and passing overhead. In twenty minutes, one of those departing aircraft will have Luciana onboard.

  A large part of me wants to be on that aircraft with her, going back to Newark, back to the Ironbound... but even if I could have gone back with her, what then? I’m unsure if Luciana wants a relationship or if our intimacy in the last few days was just one of those things that happen and if we did get serious, then there’s Ana to factor in, the three of us in the same apartment is never going to work.

  I check my watch, it’s just after nine and in the distance I can see an aircraft climbing away from the airport, quite quickly it reaches me and starts to bank around to the left to head west, sure enough, it is Luciana’s flight, right on time.

  Like a child I stand up with a big smile on my face and start, with some vigour, waving at the aircraft as it passes overhead.

  The man who gave me a wide berth on the cobbled street earlier whilst walking his daughter to school has now dropped her off. Obviously, to avoid the laughing mad man with a suitcase, he decided to walk back home through the park, unfortunately for him, I’m here too! So now he has witnessed me laughing out loud to myself on the street and now waving at passing aircraft in the park. I stop waving and I give him a broad smile. Instantaneously he puts his head down and picks up the pace, so much so that he is almost tripping over his own feet!

  I can see the funny side, even if he can’t.

  Then I pause for thought, what if that man goes home and rings the Police, I can imagine the call... ‘Hello, yes, I’d like to report a deranged man skulking around in the park.’

  I really don’t need any more hassle from the law, so I make my way back down and along the street towards the pub.

  I arrive back at the pub just as a delivery wagon arrives. As I make my way up to the door it opens and Sean the landlord comes out. Not expecting me to be stood there, he is momentarily taken aback. Looking me up and down he clocks the suitcase and puts two and two together.

  ‘Joe?’

  ‘Indeed. Sean?’

  I offer my hand to shake, he takes up the offer and with a firm handshake the introductions are done.

  ‘Good start, your timing is perfect. Take your case up to your room, you’ll find the stairs behind the bar, your room is top of the stairs as far as you can go on the right-hand side. Quick as you can, we need to get this delivery in, these lads have got a twelve-hour day to do.’

  After dumping my case, I meet up with Sean again and he takes
me down to the cellar. One by one a fresh supply of kegs and barrels drop from street level through the hatch. In return we pass up empties from a stack in the corner of the cellar.

  We return upstairs to finish taking the delivery of bottled beer and soft drinks in crates. After checking and signing the paperwork, Sean tips the draymen as they leave and then locks up again.

  ‘Right,’ he says assertively, ‘have you ever worked in a pub, Joe?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Okay then, your induction... listen carefully.

  Listen to the customers but don’t ask about their personal business, you’ll quickly learn that asking too many questions will land you in trouble. Initially you’ll get customers that come to the bar and ask has John been in? for those that do, their drinks are on the house, it’ll only happen a couple of times before you learn who’s who. Reply with, he was in earlier, and serve them, if they want to make conversation, fine, if not, don’t force them into one. If they do want to talk, keep it light. Never, ever, ask them about their business or what they do, talk about football, rugby, the weather, I’m sure you know what I mean - you really don’t want to get on the wrong side of them. As I said, don’t worry you’ll soon get to know who they are and how to handle them.’

  Sean points to the fridges at the back of the bar.

  ‘We bottle up every morning - rotate the stock, fresh bottles to the back and all labels facing forward.

  We clean the pipes every two weeks; I’ll show you how when I next do it. Make sure after you’ve used the cleaning fluid to flush through with plenty of water, I don’t want you to poison anyone. Next, we need to go back to the cellar’

  Sean opens the door and we descend the stairs.

  ‘Kegs and Barrels, Kegs are your fizzy shit, lager, cider, etc. They are pressurised with gas, be careful when changing them, get it wrong and it’ll be like a bomb going off and I don’t have time to be scraping what’s left of you off the walls. Barrels are more friendly, they are your ales, bitter, etc. They are hand-drawn so they are straight forward to change. You’ll know when to change them, your fizzy stuff will just froth up, your ales will be cloudy. As soon as you get frothy or cloudy beer, stop pouring, go down and change the keg or barrel. I’ve had staff who have persevered hoping it’ll get better, all that does is drag a load of crap into the pipes. Like the bottles upstairs, rotate the stock, newest on the bottom or at the back, bringing them forward as you use them.

 

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