by Mark Tufo
When he yanked the door open, Scott did a double-take. Standing on his doorstep was Jeremy, Tammy and Phoebe’s dad, Michelle’s ex. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
‘Sorry to turn up unannounced like this,’ Jeremy said.
It was cold outside, but not cold enough for Scott to let him in. He went out instead and pulled the door shut behind him. ‘I thought the agreement was you and Michelle arranged contact in advance. You’re not supposed to just turn up. Why didn’t you phone?’
‘Couldn’t get through.’
‘We’ve got a landline now.’
‘What, and I’m supposed to just guess the number?’
‘You could have sent a text.’
‘I did. I heard you had some grief with the police.’
‘That’s got fuck all to do with you.’
‘I know that. I’m just here because of my kids.’
Scott remained in front of the door, arms folded like a nightclub bouncer. Jeremy took off his wire-framed glasses and rubbed his eyes. The last thing he wanted was conflict. If it came down to a physical fight between him and Scott, he knew he’d inevitably come off second best.
‘Your kids are fine. Everything’s fine.’
‘I’m worried about the girls. I’m worried about all of you, actually.’
‘We’re all right, thanks for your concern. You can go now.’
‘I got this garbled message from Tammy on my phone on Sunday night when I got home... I tried calling her back but I think it was a payphone.’
‘It was. She had... there was an incident.’
‘What kind of incident?’
‘Someone exposed himself in front of her. The local pervert.’
‘Jesus. Was she...?’ He didn’t need to finish his question. Scott was shaking his head.
‘I got to him first.’
‘Thank you,’ Jeremy said, and he meant it.
‘I don’t need your thanks. I smacked a deviant in the face because he was flashing his dick at your daughter. That’s why I had grief with the police.’
Scott just wanted to go inside and lock the door and shut Jeremy out but he knew he couldn’t. Physically he could, but that wasn’t going to help anyone. Jeremy was a weed, always had been. A strip of piss, was how Scott usually described him. While Scott had always worked with his hands, Jeremy was a dyed in the wool pen-pusher. Dull. Boring. No wonder Michelle had left him.
Jeremy leant against his car. A year-old Volvo, it was neat and tidy and efficient and completely lacking in excitement, just like its owner, Scott thought. He offered Scott a stick of gum which he refused. Scott wasn’t giving any ground.
‘Bit barren out here, isn’t it?’ Jeremy said, looking across the road at the featureless yellow-green fields which rolled away into the distance.
‘Suppose.’
‘Nothing like Redditch, eh? It is lovely, though, I’ll give you that. I drove through this place once when I was younger. Me and my brother were rebelling. We decided we’d just get in the car and drive as far north as we could and—’
‘I’ll ask you once more, why are you here, Jeremy?’
Jeremy smiled at the interruption. He’d been stalling for time, trying to break the ice and make things a little easier. It was a management technique he used all the time at work, but Scott wasn’t having any of it. ‘Like I said, I was concerned.’
‘And like I said, you don’t need to be.’
‘Well maybe I need a little more reassurance? Look at it from my perspective, Scott. You pack up everything and move my kids to the opposite end of the country. Now I genuinely don’t have any issues with you. We’ve had our differences and Christ knows you’ve had a lot to deal with these past twelve months or so, but you, me and Michelle have always managed to get on with each other and stay civil for the sake of the kids.’
‘And that hasn’t changed.’
‘I didn’t say it had.’
‘What then?’
‘The few times I have managed to speak to Tam and Phoebe since you moved here, they’ve sounded like they’ve been in a real state, Tammy in particular.’
‘It hasn’t been easy, I’ll give you that. But like I said, they’re fine. They just need to—’
Jeremy held up his hands as if to say I surrender, don’t shoot. ‘Let me finish, Scott. Don’t start attacking me or defending yourself ’til you’ve heard what I want to say, okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘You always think the worst of me, don’t you?’ No answer. ‘Look,’ Jeremy continued, ‘when I spoke to the girls I told them both all the things I thought I should. I said they were going to feel a little weird for a while, disorientated. Short of emigrating, you’ve put yourselves about as far away from your old lives as you could have and I understand that. I know why you did it and, for what it’s worth, I think you’ve probably made the right move.’
‘I don’t need your approval. Look, Jeremy, you’re not making a lot of sense here. You’re talking a lot, but you’re not actually saying anything relevant.’
‘I was prepared to let it go at first,’ he continued, heart pounding but remaining outwardly unaffected by Scott’s thinly veiled aggression. ‘It was hard, really bloody hard, but I was willing to keep my distance to let the girls get settled. I’m big enough and ugly enough to know when not to stick my nose in, Scott.’
‘You sure?’
‘I knew that if I’d turned up any sooner it would have done more harm than good. All the hard work you and Michelle have been doing to help them settle would have been undone.’
‘So you thought you’d give it a week or so...?’
‘I just happened to be passing through.’
‘Bullshit.’
‘See, I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Fact is I’m needed at a site just outside Aberdeen later this week. I’m owed a few days leave, so I thought I’d drive up here rather than fly in for the meeting, that way I could drop in and see the girls first.’
‘Like I said, you should have called.’
‘And like I said, I’ve had trouble getting through. I also know you’d probably have done everything you could to stop me coming. Me being here is probably the last thing you need right now, but I’m here with the best of intentions. I know you can’t see that, but it’s true. I’ve had enough, Scott. Imagine how you’d be feeling now if you’d been separated from George and no one was telling you anything?’ He paused for a response which didn’t come. ‘I’m planning to spend a few days in the area, reassure the girls and myself and spend some time with them if I can, then I’ll move on. Put yourself in my shoes, mate... how could you not come and see your kids when...?’
‘When what?’
Jeremy took a deep breath. ‘When you see the town they just moved to on the news each night? When you can’t talk to your children to check they’re okay but you’re hearing plenty about a string of murders happening where they are, and you’re out of the country a lot of the time. I got back from Switzerland late on Sunday and the first thing I heard was that message from Tammy. She was beside herself.’
‘And I’ve told you why that was. It’s sorted now.’
‘Like I said, put yourself in my shoes. What would you have done?’
Scott wasn’t sure how to answer. A flurry of movement let him off the hook. Michelle pulled up in the car. She’d barely stopped the engine before the girls were out and all over their father. Jeremy raced towards them, grabbing hold of his youngest daughter first, squeezing her tight. ‘Love you,’ he said. ‘Missed you.’
‘Missed you too, Dad.’
‘I was passing through and I thought I’d drop in on you. Thought I’d surprise you both. That okay?’
‘That’s okay,’ she said, grinning.
Once she’d calmed everyone down and got her head around Jeremy’s sudden arrival, Michelle invited him to stop for dinner, checking with Scott first. She told him she needed to go back into town and pick up something to eat but Scott volunteered to go
instead. It was preferable to sitting in the house with Jeremy, making awkward small-talk and watching the kids fawning all over him. Michelle scribbled out a list and gave it to him, cornering him alone in the kitchen. ‘Here you go. And can you get a couple of bottles of wine in and some beer? Something decent, okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘You sure you’re all right about this?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘And you’re okay with Jeremy being here?’
‘If it helps the kids, I guess.’
‘Good. Thanks, love. This means a lot to them. It’s important.’ He turned to leave but she pulled him back. ‘I love you, Scott.’
Chapter 70
Scott drove into town with George. There was a police cordon around the side of the community hall. A small crowd of people had gathered there, mostly school kids, held back at a distance. Scott just kept driving and didn’t even look up. He didn’t know what had happened and he didn’t care. It was nothing to do with him and he wasn’t about to give anyone any reason to think otherwise. Sergeant Ross was in the middle of it all as usual, and he could see that fucker DI Litherland too. Scott was paranoid that one of them would see him driving past and jump to another immediate, baseless, incorrect conclusion.
He parked outside the Co-op, and it was only when he had his hand on the door to get out that he stopped and realised where he was and what he was doing. This was where that McBride bloke had worked. Did the other people who worked here know who Scott was and what he’d done? For half a second he considered starting the engine again and going somewhere else, but there wasn’t anywhere else and, anyway, why the hell should he? ‘If they’ve got a problem with what happened then I’m happy to talk about it,’ he told George who didn’t understand and who wasn’t listening anyway and who, most importantly, wouldn’t answer back. ‘I’ll happily tell them what that pervert did and why I punched his lights out. They’re wrong about me. They can all go to hell for all I care.’
He plucked his son from his booster seat, shut and locked the car, then took a trolley (he might have left this trolley here, the bloke who died) and loaded George into the seat facing him. The automatic doors opened as he approached and he disappeared inside, and for a few seconds the familiarity and normality of the bright supermarket interior came as a relief. He worked his way around the fresh produce first, shopping list in hand, remembering all the things Michelle always said whenever he came back with the wrong stuff: check the best before dates, get bananas that are still a little bit green, check all the apples for bruises, don’t automatically pick up every offer you see; that second pack of mince might look cheap, but if we’re never going to eat it you’re actually spending more money, not less... Most of the time he didn’t give a shit, couldn’t bring himself to be so bloody petty, but it was different today. ‘Can’t give Mummy or Jeremy any reason to have a go at Daddy now, can we son?’ he said. George just looked at him.
For a shitty little store in a shitty little town, the supermarket was reasonably well-stocked. He managed to get most of what they needed, placating George along the way with sweets. He was looking at coffee, trying to remember which brand he liked best, when he felt someone watching him. He looked back over his shoulder, and a woman looked down as soon as he made eye contact. He didn’t recognise her, hadn’t ever seen her before as far as he was aware, so why was she so interested in him? And she definitely was, because when he’d chosen his coffee and crossed the aisle to pick up something else, he caught her staring again. Does she just not like strangers, or is there more to it than that? Does she know what happened with the police? Did she see them taking me into the station? Does she think I’m the killer...?
George moaned, still hungry. ‘Won’t be long now, sunshine,’ Scott told him. ‘Got to get nice food in for our special guest. Can’t have precious Jeremy thinking we don’t know how to look after ourselves now can we?’
‘’kay Daddy.’
‘We’re playing happy families tonight, mate.’
‘’kay Daddy.’
Shit. There was another one watching him now. Another fucking busybody watching his every move. One of the women on the tills was giving him evils, looking down her nose at him, almost sneering. Bitch. And now another dozy fucker, a kid who could barely see out from under his bloody floppy fringe, was waiting to get past. Dumb little bastard. Scott was about to say something but he thought better of it. No point, he told himself. You’re better than all of them.
He swung the trolley around the end of another aisle and almost collided with a family coming the other way. A man and a woman, two kids. The bloke looked shifty. Dodgy hair, even dodgier dress sense. The woman was about half his age and she was looking at Scott, staring at him. What the hell was wrong with all these people? Scott felt like going home, locking the door and never coming out again. He’d make sure he’d kicked Jeremy out first, of course.
‘Hello, George,’ the woman said, taking both Scott and his son by surprise. The woman was grinning broadly at Scott. She held out her hand. He just looked at it. ‘You must be Scott,’ she said.
‘Yeah...’ he replied, unsure, and he bit his tongue before he could follow it up with and who the fuck are you?
‘I’m Jackie,’ she said, still grinning. She waited for an acknowledgement which didn’t come. ‘Michelle’s friend Jackie from playgroup?’
‘Yeah, sorry... I’m not with it today. Nice to meet you.’
‘This here’s Dez,’ she continued, and Dez grabbed Scott’s hand and shook it vigorously.
‘Good t’meet you, pal,’ he said. ‘Heard you’d had a bit of grief lately.’
Jackie shot daggers at her partner but he remained belligerent.
‘You could say that.’
‘That Graham was a freaky fucker, mind.’
‘I noticed.’
‘Dez, don’t... not here,’ Jackie said, turning to apologise to Scott. ‘I’m really sorry about him. He doesn’t think.’
‘No worries,’ Scott said. ‘He was right anyway. The bloke was a freak.’
An awkward standoff followed, both sides blocking the other’s way through. Scott wanted to go, Jackie wanted to know more about what had happened but didn’t dare ask. Dez, however, remained completely ignorant. ‘I’ll tell you sumthin’ for nothin’, mate, this town is full of bloody odduns.’
‘What?’
‘Odduns. Weirdos. Freaks.’
‘Don’t listen to him,’ Jackie said, embarrassed.
‘S’true.’
‘Aye, Dezzie, but your definition of a weirdo is different to the rest of us. In your book a weirdo’s just someone who don’t do things your way, and as there ain’t no one else who does things your way, it looks like that’s all the rest of us.’
Scott managed a wry smile. He quite liked this woman. Nice face, great tits, and she seemed to talk sense. Couldn’t see what she was doing with this prick, though. George moaned again. ‘We should go,’ he said, glad of the excuse.
‘Course. Oh, how’s the kitchen coming along?’
‘What?’
‘The hole in your kitchen wall... it’s going to look lovely when you’re done.’
How the fuck does she know what’s happening in my house? ‘Not had a lot of chance to work on it this week,’ he said, swallowing down his anger. It wasn’t Jackie he was angry with, it was the others. He hated being kept in the dark and being talked about, and he’d have Michelle about it as soon as they got rid of Jeremy.
‘Course,’ Jackie said. ‘I should keep my nose out.’
‘You probably should.’
‘Let’s get on then,’ Dez said, urging Jackie forward.
‘Nice to meet you,’ she said, pushing her trolley around the end of Scott’s.
‘Aye,’ Dez added, ushering his kids away. ‘See yous around.’
Scott watched the family walk away. Fucking inbreds... Talk about strangers, are there any stranger round here than that bloke? With his eighties clothes and
nineties hair, married to a woman who looked young enough to be his daughter... there was definitely something odd going on there. He was wearing a frigging Dr Who T-shirt, for fuck’s sake, and it was the old Dr Who at that. Wonder where he was the night Graham McBride died? Wonder where he was when the rest of them were killed?
Scott finished the rest of the shopping quickly, passing the family a couple more times in the next few aisles, the awkwardness increasing each time they met. He waited for an age at the one checkout which was still open. The woman who was serving barely even looked at him. Are you this rude to all your customers, or do you feel the same way about me as I do you? He loaded up his bags and pushed the trolley out to the car, keen to get out and get home until he remembered who was there.
Chapter 71
He felt like he was a guest in someone else’s house, the way they were all fussing over bloody Jeremy. It made him sick. They never treated him like this. All he did for them, and Phoebe and Tammy had barely even looked at him when he got back with the shopping. And Michelle was just as bad, checking Jeremy was comfortable and that he’d got a drink, asking if he wanted to watch TV or use the bathroom before dinner.
To his credit, Jeremy looked as uneasy as Scott felt. When he saw that Scott was back he immediately got up from his seat and offered him his hand. ‘You okay, Scott?’ he asked.
‘Fine. You?’
‘Jeremy has been planning to take in the sights and sounds of Thussock,’ Michelle shouted from the kitchen.
‘Good luck finding any.’
‘Quite a place you’ve found here,’ Jeremy said, grinning broadly. ‘Shame I’ve only got a few days. It’ll never be long enough. So much to see, so much to do...’