'Jack? Jack’s a boy’s name. So tell me, where are you going this afternoon?'
'Out'
'With?'
'Jack. He's only up for the day'
'He?'
'Fuck off Emm. I don't need to justify myself to your make-believe world'.
Tom stormed out of the room, and up the stairs. Emma came back through from the kitchen with a family size bag of crisps, opened it and sat back in her chair.
She heard Tom slamming drawers and cursing after stubbing a toe against the bed end. Then he rumbled down the stairs. Emma listened as he paused outside the living room. The front door slammed and Emma sat alone again.
4.5 Pam and Simon
Pam lay on the bed breathing in the fumes coming from Spiv. Beer and vodka had been in abundance at the College Student Bar last night. She had joined him after finishing some class work, and had to pull him away from a dark-haired fresher who had tabs on her man. He had been so drunk that he probably didn't even notice the little trollop’s advances, Pam had thought. But she taught her a lesson, grabbing her hair and giving her a warning with a swift slap across the face in the toilets before carting her Simon back to her room. Pam was worried. Si had been away with Bob all day, and he was vacant when they had spoken on the phone.
'Whassat', Spiv growled and turned over in the single bed.
'Morning', Pam chirped. She could tell he was struggling. He would have a bad head for a while, so she could tinker and shower and preen and prettify. She could watch him lying there and plan for him - and her. Live out dreams in her head. She smiled and rubbed his back. Spiv growled or grunted again.
Pam got up and, in the dim light of the morning sun creeping in through the tiny lodging window, she searched quickly for a towel and her housecoat in case Spiv caught glimpse of her horrible frame. He could see her bust but not her fat butt, she thought. She held the towel round her waist, looking over at her man lying in deep slumber. She held a pose with her breast hanging out, but no movement, so she dropped the towel and quick as a flash she had the housecoat on, and was strolling through to the shower room.
'I'm going for a shower OK?'
No grunt. Nothing. Pam hoped Spiv wasn't in any trouble. She knew that he couldn't be in too much trouble. She would always protect her man. She shut the shower room door while Spiv continued to snore gently.
5
‘I think I might have done it!’.
Everyone laughed and Bob tossed a cushion across the room at Aid, who chuckled and slumped back into the comfort of the sofa.
'You fanny, the game tells you if you are the murderer. I guess it isn't you then'
'Don't throw the cushions, you'll end up spilling someone’s drink', Marie perched on her seat anxiously.
'Don't worry, OK', Bob reassured her. Marie gulped down her large vodka and diet coke and made for the kitchen, followed by Tom’s stare as she did. She glared over at him before disappearing from view.
'So who's next?' Bob clapped his hands together as he tried to keep the game going, but everyone had lost interest now as the alcohol took hold.
'To be honest Bob, I thought it was a bit distasteful havin a murder night after what happened to Dev', Tom spoke out then guzzled some more beer.
'It was meant to be a bit of fun'
'Just saying...'
'Well just don't!' Marie stuck her head round from the kitchen, Mon stepped forward to make her way to Marie, sensing something was about to kick off.
'I mean Dev is lying 6 feet under efter murdering a poor wee lass, and here we are laughin and jokin about something no a kick in the arse off it'
'It was meant to be fun, Tom, Ok'. Bob tried to smooth things over, but it was too late as Marie stormed through armed with a sharp tongue and alcohol for munitions.
'Well, Tom, at least we can laugh when we are all here together – instead of crying and cowering in a corner when we end up left alone in a room wi you'.
Tom was taken aback, and momentarily lost his usual swagger, looking briefly at Emma before making his attempt at a retort.
'What d'you mean by that?'
Marie turned away saying loudly enough 'You know fine and well, and I'm surprised Emm just sits there takin it. Prick.' Marie's voice rang through the room as she again found solace in the kitchen, tearfully embracing Monica. The company became uneasy. Tom stood up looking for some support, which was not forthcoming as eyes looked at the floor.
Bob reluctantly went to Marie. “What was all that about?'. She pushed him off, as Mon re-entered the living room. Aid looked up from his can, catching Tom’s eye. 'Fuckin hell, yer all in it together', Tom shouted at no-one in particular, but aimed directly at Aid.
'If you weren't all so scared of your secrets, maybe we could all enjoy a night out instead of this shit'
'Fuck off Tom', Bob held Marie back as she made for Tom. 'Your fuckin secrets have cost me, and Mon and probably hundreds of others. But no more. Get out of my house.'
'Calm yer missus down Bob. It's getting embarrassing'.
Bob spoke to Marie, who was distraught and slumped to her knees in the kitchen doorway. 'What you saying to me Marie?' Tom pulled at his coat from behind a chair, and glanced over at Emma who sat quietly looking at the wall.
'Fuck this shit. If I told ye anything you just wouldn't believe me. Yer a shallow bunch. Aid, look at ye. You’re the fuckin brains of our wee group of friends and yer a miserable sod who has gambled away a good life so yer wife has to go on the game just to make ends meet.'
'That’s enough', Bob stormed over and lamped Tom in the jaw, the hit taking him down onto his knee - 'Get out. Now.'
Monica stood mouth agape, before heading purposefully off to the toilet out the back.
'Gladly', Tom got back to his feet.
'Ye know, we are all guilty here. Not just me. Take a look at yerselves and tell me you have no reason to feel guilty. Bob? Spiv? Marie? Go fuck yersels'. With that he left, slamming the door behind him, and leaving Emma sitting while reality bit.
'You alright Emm?'
'Maybe I should go...'
'Don't be stupid... stay.'
The group stayed fairly quiet. Marie followed Monica to the loo.
'You alright Mon?'
'Yeah. Fine' she snivelled from behind the door.
'He's away now'.
'Yeah. I know. But it's all coming out. I'm so stupid for ever getting involved with Tom. It was just stupid.'
'Listen. No-one is asking you to justify anything. You are with friends.'
'What about Aid though. I really love him. I don't want to lose him', Marie hadn't noticed Aid standing nearby.
'It's alright Mon. Everything will be OK. I'm so sorry you have put yourself through this because of me.'
'Oh god, Aid. I'm so sorry. What can I do?'
'You don't have to be sorry. Everything will be OK. We all make mistakes. We can all mend our ways. So long as you are alright.'
Mon still wept behind the door, while Marie walked away, gesturing to Aid.
'I know Mon. I've always known that Stephen isn't my boy'.
Mon stopped sniffing.
'Truth is, it doesn't make a blind bit of difference to me. Don't get me wrong, I used to think about it. About Stephen being Dev's boy, but it doesn't change the way I look at him. My lad. Or the way I think about you. I just always wanted to be with you, and I was so pleased you learned to love me.'
The door unlocked and Aid stepped back. 'I love you Mon, always have and always will'. She grabbed at him, snuggled in tight to his chest and wept freely.
Spiv sat supping his can. 'This has been a blast Bob. Anything else we should know?'
Bob cleared some drinks away, removing Tom’s can and sweeping some crumbs onto the floor.
'I don't have anything else. You?'
'You know me. Live the life of a devout Christian. Ha ha.’ Spiv kissed Pam's head and she smiled a false smile, looking like she wished she was somewhere else.
' What
about Dev then?' Bob said and turned around to face the crowd, not pointing the question at anyone in particular.
Spiv sat in silence. Emma looked at Bob waiting for him to finish the story.
'What do you mean?’ Pam asked.
'All I'm throwing out there is that I have reason to believe Dev did not kill that girl'. His nonchalant manner had opened a wound, but no-one followed up immediately.
Emma finally broke the silence. 'But the police obviously went through all the evidence and must have had a good reason to claim that he did'.
'The police had a crime scene and an easy opportunity to tie up loose ends'
'Mebbes aye, Mebbes naw, but what's the point in going there again?' Spiv joined in.
'Well one - Dev was a mate. Two - I knew Dev and he was no killer – albeit he liked the younger females. Three...' Spiv interrupted. ‘Three - Dev was a patsy killed by a rampaging father who'd already killed his own daughter... why can we not leave it there and get on with our lives?'
'Because after all that time, we know more than we are letting on. At least someone here does because the game pointed Dev to his fate and that was not an accident.'
Aid and Mon returned to the room, Marie touching Mon’s arm.
'We're gonna hit the road. Cheers Bob'.
'Just a minute mate. Mind what you said about Dev. Remember we talked about it.'
'Yeah, what?'
'What was it you said about the whole thing being wrong?'
'All I said was that Dev couldn't have done it.' Aid bent behind the couch to grab a couple of coats. ' Ian Ingram killed him, or maybe even didn't kill him, as he maintains, and maybe someone else had it in for Dev – for whatever reason, and set him up for it. But then, maybe Ingram did it all...'
'But maybe not – that’s the thing. And', Bob turned to all who are listening, 'if it wasn't Ingram, then it could only have been someone who played the treasure hunt, since we were the only ones who made up the clues.’ He paused for added effect.
’Someone definitely changed a clue'.
'Could that have been someone in the pub?’ Pam asked.
'Christ’, Spiv got involved again, ‘that could have been Ingram trying to blame someone else. Let’s just forget this. Dev's dead. Us getting het up about it isn't going to bring him back'.
Things quietened down, kissed cheeks and cheerios followed, and Aid lead Mon hand in hand away from Bob and Marie's. Emma followed and they escorted her home, leaving Spiv, Pam, Bob and Marie stewing with late night booze.
Music and chat followed, until inebriated persons started to nod off.
'That’s the thing though. The thing Aid has'.
'Whassat?' Spiv slurred
'Ingram's letters'
'Yeah, but he's just looking for an early release'.
'Not just those letters though. The parcel. He sent a parcel too.'
Spiv appeared to become more alert and Pam tugged at his arm, ‘Can we get going soon, I think I need my bed'.
'What parcel?'
6
6.1 Aid and Mon
Monica turned to look at Aidrian. She felt visible to him and free from all the baggage she had for the first time in years. She smiled and touched his face. 'Wha...?' Aidrian stirred, then relaxed back into sleep.
'I love you Aid'. '..Love you too..' Aidrian slept and beneath his eyelids he knew Mon was happy. They had enjoyed closeness and love for hours last night. Already his worries seemed to be closing off. Maybe honesty was the best policy after all. No, he would enjoy the present and see what developed. He felt Mon's arm across his belly, and soon they would be cuddling and kissing again until the door latch clicked open and the kids were returned by Mons mum.
An hour or so later the door latch lifted, and the kids burst in. Naked under the bedsheet, Mon decided to take her warm feeling with her and went to get the kids, wrapping her night gown around her waist.
'Hiya, we had a long lie for once'.
'Hi Mon, is it OK if I have a coffee?’ A bustle of noise and baggage scraping off door frames meant Mons mum had followed the kids into the house.
'Yeah ‘course, Mum. I'll be there in a minute.' Aid lay staring at Mon as she peered past the bedroom door. He felt good - really good - and forgot for a moment the parcel he had opened and left in the kitchen. Forgot until moments later when Mon brought the letters to him.
‘What’s this?’
‘I was going to tell you…’
‘When? How long has this been going on for?’
Aid sat up and looked at his Monica.
‘Mon, I didn’t want to scare you. It’s probably nothing. I mean, Ingram probably did it all, and unfortunately Dev got involved. It’s probably nothing.’
Mon held a letter up and started to read.
‘…I know that someone who played that Treasure Hunt game is to blame for the death of my daughter. If you do not help me I can only imagine that you yourself must have a guilty conscience…. Aid. Is he serious….? ’
Aid raised his voice, ‘ …and that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. Mon, I know, it’s worrying. A murderer is writing me letters and might even be plotting to harm me, or you or our kids. Do you think I don’t know this? Do you think I don’t care? But what can I do? Tell me, because I have so many worries, Mon, and I just can’t seem to talk to you anymore.’
Mon grew pale.
‘Were you involved?’
‘Fuck no.’
A pause followed, Aid couldn’t believe she even doubted him.
‘How could you think…. Christ here I am worrying that one of my friends might be involved in this, involved in the murder of a girl – and here you are thinking it’s me.’
‘I’m sorry Aid. I want to believe you, but the last year has been so hard. You have changed. I always have the feeling you are keeping something from me.’ She was right, Aid thought, but not this.
‘Anyway I am not going to risk my kids over some loony threats’.
‘Mebbe that’s best’
She packed a holdall which she took from the bottom of the cupboard and filled it with various clothes and accessories. It took a while and not much more was said. The kids came in for a cuddle from Dad. They would be staying with Mum at Gran's for a while. Stephen wasn't sure what was going on, and wanted to stay with his Dad. Aid assured him that everything would be OK. He grabbed him and gave him a man hug.
Everything would be OK.
Aid sat on the side of the bed, his forehead in his hands. He needed to get this out, to get everyone involved, and find out the truth. He glanced at the clock. He would have to go to work soon. He had yet to mention to Mon that his company had let him go pending investigation. It was genuinely the least of his worries now. He had managed to get a bar job in the Crook Inn of all places. A little too close to home with all the shit that was going on, but needs must. Ingram obviously wasn’t caring too much about the pub and no-one had asked about or mentioned Dev or Ollie Ingram. So he had taken on shifts – earlies mainly, to reduce suspicion from the missus, and only a few lates. He had got Bob to cover him for any nights he needed to close up. To be honest it was treading water until he would have to tell Monica. There was no way out now.
But for now he needed to speak to Bob, and as he picked up his mobile from the bedside table, he hoped they would be able to get Tom and Spiv together as well and have this out... because if Ian Ingram was right, one of their group of friends must be to blame for the death of Ollie Ingram.
6.2 Bob and Marie
Bob’s face and what he had been saying on the phone shocked Marie. She held her hand over her mouth as Bob finished the conversation.
'Fuck. That’s not good. I knew there was something going on, but not that. You should have said man. You should have fuckin said. I mean, me and Spiv went fuckin lookin for where that other letter came from – and right enough it was Bar-fuckin- Ell'
Marie sat motionless on the edge of the sofa, as Bob paced about in the dining area.
&nb
sp; 'I'll call him now. No, he left with Pam about 1 or half 1 last night. He's bound to be at his mum’s or her place. I'll go up there if I can't get him. We'll just have to look for him.'
Bob said little more as Aid continued to speak. Marie no longer felt safe. She felt sick. Breakfast could wait now, as there were so many questions that needed answers.
'Well?' Marie asked as Bob signed off with Aid.
'I'll tell you in a minute. I've got to speak to Spiv'
'What is it? What has happened?'
'I'll tell you the noo.' A pause while the phone rang, then clicked onto answer machine…
'Spiv? Spiv? Pick up if you are there...', it clicks on.
'Hello...'
'Hi, Mrs Deuchar. Sorry to bother you, but is Simon there?'
'No, I'm afraid not. He was out last night and didn't come back here, I think he was at Bob's'
'Yeah that’s right. This is Bob'
'Oh, sorry Bob. No, I take it he's at Pammy’s'.
'Yeah, no problem. If you could ask him to give me a call. Much appreciated'
'Yes, I will, is everything OK?'
'Yeah, I'm sure it will be.'
Bob hung up, Marie tried questioning him again, but he needed to focus, and Marie would have to wait.
'Wait a minute! Would you? Please?' his outstretched hand was meant to be protective, but just appeared rude.
Marie slunk into the kitchen and, without thinking, put on the kettle and gathered the bottles and cans from last night and put them into a recycling bin.
Bob tried Spiv's phone. It rang out. He tried again. It rang out. Once more.
'Hi, is that you Bob?'
'Yeah, Pam, thank god. Is Spiv there?'
'No, sorry, he just left here and he's left his phone. What’s up?'
'Where is he going?'
'I don't know – his mum’s?'
Hunt Hunted, Murder Murdered Page 7