by Jennie Finch
‘Tempting,’ she said. ‘Very tempting but I’ve got to drive and, to be honest, it goes straight to my head.’
Margie grinned and shook the bottle gently.
‘I thought maybe we could drink it this evening, at yours?’
Alex closed her eyes for an instant and sighed.
‘We’d have to share it with my mother,’ she said finally.
There was a moment’s silence before Margie said, ‘I didn’t have you down as someone who still lived with their parents.’ She tried to make a joke of it but only managed to sound a bit critical.
‘I don’t,’ said Alex. ‘She’s living with me – at least for the moment. She … okay, being totally honest – she’s just got out of prison and won’t go home until my father and brothers apologise.’
Margie’s mouth fell open and she stared at Alex in astonishment. Whatever she had expected to find out about her new friend, it certainly wasn’t this.
‘You are a bit of dark horse, ’ent you,’ Margie managed finally.
‘Not half as much as my mother,’ Alex retorted. Then their eyes met and the pair of them collapsed into giggles.
‘Alright, alright – tell me,’ Margie gasped, lying back in the sand.
Alex related the tale of her mother’s protest at Brightlingsea, her fury at the males in the family who tried to pay her fines and her recent incarceration at HMP East Sutton Park. Margie listened, fascinated by the family drama that was so different from anything her relatives might do, yet so familiar in its echoes of her working life. An awful lot of people ran foul of the law through bad luck, bad choices or a single, desperate act. If they used their time inside to reflect and maybe find better solutions to their problems, they need not ever return, but the opportunities to do so were limited. It was one reason she wanted to move to Shepton Mallet, with its regime of training and education.
‘So, there you have it,’ said Alex. ‘My criminal mother. I don’t know how long she intends to stay but for the moment she’s firmly ensconced in my spare room and shows no inclination to head back home.’
‘She sounds something special,’ said Margie. ‘I like to think I’d be brave enough to stand up for something I believe in like that but I don’t reckon I’d cope on the other side of the bars. You should be right proud.’
Alex blinked in surprise. She hadn’t been sure what to expect from her revelation but it wasn’t such whole-hearted approval.
‘Will it cause you any problems, at work – you know, consorting with a newly released prisoner?’ she asked.
Margie shook her head firmly. ‘Not like she’s one of mine,’ she said. ‘And who’s to know? Is your family business and is not like she’s a desperate bank robber or nothing. Unless you’re holding out on me?’
Alex laughed. ‘No, just the public order stuff,’ she said. ‘I wish I could be as confident of my lot at the probation office. I’m not sure what they’d say if they knew about her – especially as we’re due a new senior soon.’ There was a pause before she finished rather wistfully, ‘I’ve not had a lot of luck with my seniors so far.’
‘Was it just this last one you found so difficult?’ asked Margie. ‘Only sometimes if you expect someone to behave badly they always seem to. Like with the lads in prison. You behave like you expect trouble and they’ll act up for sure. Start kind of neutral and often they’ll be quite different. Mind you,’ she added, screwing her eyes up against the glare of the sun. ‘Don’t mean you shouldn’t watch your back, just in case.’
Alex looked out over the beach, turning this over in her mind but suddenly her attention was captured by two figures walking towards the dunes.
‘Bloody hell!’ she shouted, jumping to her feet and kicking sand over the remains of the picnic. ‘I don’t believe this!’
Lauren sauntered along the beach, revelling in the warm spring sunshine. It was very bright and she regretted leaving her dark glasses in the car but despite that, it was turning into a perfect Saturday. Suddenly Jonny stopped just ahead of her.
‘Hey, look Sis,’ he said, pointing towards the sand dunes. ‘Isn’t that Alex over there?’
Lauren squinted through the sunlight at the two figures seated in the shade of the dunes. Then one of them leapt to their feet, gesturing towards her and Jonny.
‘Oh heck,’ said Lauren. ‘Looks like it is. And I don’t think we’re going to get much of a welcome, neither. Come on Jonny – let’s go back the other way.’
A furious yell from the figure in the dunes caused Jonny to hesitate and Lauren to start back to the car as fast as she could. Torn between the two, Jonny turned from side to side, as if watching a frantic but invisible tennis match. Lauren was not slowing down, he noticed. Alex, on the other hand, was heading his way. Mentally cursing his sister, he walked towards the dunes, with what he hoped was an innocent and welcoming smile on his face.
‘We didn’t expect to see you here,’ he called when a furious Alex was still a few yards away.
She stopped, frowning at him. ‘Just co-incidence then?’ she said mockingly.
Jonny nodded. ‘Honest Alex, we was out at Kilve but Lauren found a huge ammonite and was pretty knackered after hauling it up to the car so we decided to come down here. Bit more restful, we reckoned.’
Alex was not totally convinced and the sight of Lauren fleeing the scene did nothing to reassure her but she was very fond of both of them and didn’t want to make a fuss in front of Margie.
‘We’re off anyway, I reckon,’ said Jonny, gesturing towards the figure of his sister. ‘Where you goin’ next? Wouldn’t want to keep doing this, would we?’
Alex laughed and shook her head. ‘I suppose not,’ she said ruefully, glancing over her shoulder to see Margie making her way across the sand towards them.
‘Better introduce me or your friend might think you’re trying to keep her away from us,’ said Jonny, a smile on his face to take any sting out of his words. ‘Hello. I’m Jonny – nice to meet you,’ he said smoothly as Margie arrived at Alex’s side.
‘Oh, hello – I’m Margie,’ she said, a little flustered. ‘Um, who was..?’ she pointed in the direction of the rapidly receding Lauren.
‘That was my sister,’ said Jonny. ‘She’s a bit shy but I’m sure you’ll get a chance to meet her soon. I’d better go after her – I’ve got the car key.’ He grinned wickedly at Alex, threw another charming smile in Margie’s direction and set off towards the car park leaving Alex confounded by the whole encounter.
‘He seems very nice,’ said Margie as they picked their way back to the remains of their abandoned picnic.
‘You have no idea,’ said Alex. ‘I’ve rather spoilt the rest of this – I’m really sorry. It was just such a shock, seeing them. To be honest …’ she paused, wondered if it were too late to back out and decided it was. ‘Well, Lauren wanted to come with me today, to meet you. But I wouldn’t let her and I thought she might have been following us.’
Margie looked at her for a moment.
‘Why didn’t you want her to come along?’ she asked softly.
Alex took a deep breath before plunging on.
‘I wanted you to myself, at least today,’ she said. ‘I really like Lauren – I like all my friends – but I hoped this might be a special sort of day – just us.’ To her horror she felt her voice wobble and for a moment feared she was going to cry. This time the pause seemed to stretch between them for ever until finally she felt Margie’s hand on her shoulder.
‘It is,’ she said. ‘I think maybe we both been trying too hard but, in spite of that, ’tis girt special.’
Alex grinned at the sudden, thick accent and the day was bright once more.
Kevin hadn’t been gone long before there was a tap on the door and Tom poked his head into Ada’s kitchen. She was sitting at the table, sipping tea from her favourite china mug and reading from the last week’s local paper.
‘Come on in then,’ she said. ‘You can smell tea bein’ made, you can.’
‘Didn’t know you was that superstitious,’ said Ada waspishly as he added tea from the pot.
Tom stopped pouring and stared at her before finishing and placing the pot carefully on a mat in the middle of the table.
‘I heard,’ he said adding three spoons of sugar and stirring thoughtfully. ‘I heard if you put milk in first it stops you having ginger kids.’ He took a slurp, sighed with pleasure and raised an eyebrow at her over the mug.
‘Seems Iris should’a tried that then,’ said Ada folding her paper and putting it down next to her elbow. ‘Could have saved her a might of trouble.’
Tom stopped mid-slurp and lowered his mug carefully.
‘Didn’t know you was one for gossip, Ada,’ he said.
Ada pushed her chair back and rose from the table, gathering her empty mug and turning to rinse it in the sink.
‘Anyone with a pair of eyes could see there was something odd about young Newt,’ she said scornfully. ‘Decent enough lad mind, not like his brother. That one took after his Dad, no matter what Iris done to set him right.’
‘What about Newt?’ asked Tom. ‘Does he take after his Dad?’
Ada turned and stared at him. ‘Nice try, Tom. Like you said, I ’ent one for gossip, so as far as I’m concerned, was his hair I was talkin’ about and I don’t know no more’n that.’
Tom smiled and finished the last of his tea.
‘If you say so,’ he said mildly. ‘You ready to give us a hand with this wire then? Ol’ Bert, he’s a bit eager to get his stud goat off the farm for a bit. Says he’s got a young’n he’s trying out and they fight something awful. Having trouble keeping ’em apart, with both of ’em pulling at the fences,’ he added hastily seeing the look of alarm on Ada’s face. ‘Don’t you worry now, is right placid when he’s on his own, this old’n.’
Out in the garden, new fence posts stood awaiting the electric wire and reinforced metal netting that would, hopefully, keep the goat corralled safely and away from Ada’s crops. Tom had set the new boundaries stretching from the edge of Ada’s official patch several yards out in each direction, the stream bordering the far end of the new enclosures.
‘Need to put some along there too,’ said Tom, hefting the shiny rolls of chicken wire and dropping them on the rough scrubland. ‘Goats is quite capable of wading downstream a bit and coming out on your seed bed.’
‘You do that,’ said Ada. ‘I need this,’ she waved her arm over the densely planted land. ‘Don’t look much but is what I live on most the time.’
Privately Tom thought it looked grand. It was one of the most efficient and productive cottage gardens he’d ever seem and he was full of admiration for Ada’s efforts. Working in companionable silence, they rapidly strung the netting, two layers thick, between the new fence posts and Tom set to laying the electric wire around the inside whilst Ada examined the fixings on the posts, hammering home metal staples and adding a few extra, just to be sure all was as goat-proof as possible.
As the sun rose over the garden, they stopped for lunch, sitting in the cool kitchen and eating the fresh salad and a vegetable pie Ada had prepared the night before. After another cup of tea, they went back to work, constructing a portable but robust goat shelter from some old pallets Tom swore he’d found just lying around and some heavy-duty plastic from empty feed sacks. It wasn’t elegant but it was certainly efficient and, with the addition of some straw liberated from the edge of the field on the other side of the stream it looked quite comfortable.
‘You got an old bucket?’ Tom asked. ‘Metal if possible. Plastic don’t last too long round goats. They don’t generally eat it but once it gets stepped on, well, is not good for much.’
Ada rummaged through one of her sheds and produced a large galvanised bucket.
‘For water,’ said Tom. ‘He’ll need it changing couple of times a day. Otherwise he’s more likely to try and get to the stream, if he gets thirsty. I’ll bring a trough when I come next.’
‘Trough?’ asked Ada. ‘I thought he was goin’ to eat all this.’ She gestured towards the newly enclosed rough land. ‘Was the whole point, I thought.’
Tom shrugged, suggesting he was newly wise to the ways of goats.
‘Mostly he’ll eat all this,’ he said. ‘He just needs a bit of other stuff, for vitamins and such I think. Ol’ Bob, he’s sending some goat nuts over to keep him healthy. A couple of scoops a day is all he’s needing.’
Ada nodded her head. This goat was turning out to be a bit more bother than she’s expected but still – her eyes took in the newly fenced areas. Tom had been bolder than she would have been and together they added almost as much again to the size of her garden. She was already planning what to do with all that wonderful land. Fruit trees, she thought. She had a longing for fruit trees but they needed so much space and up to now she’d needed every inch for her vegetables. Maybe some soft fruit too – that was a real indulgence, taking up space for just a few weeks of produce – but what produce.
She snapped her attention back to the present, nodding more firmly this time.
‘I can manage that,’ she said.
Tom looked at her and smiled. It was a long time since he’d seen her look so relaxed, he thought. Life had been somewhat relentless for Ada and she had experienced some horrible things over the years. It pleased him to make her happy and, just for a few moments, he forgot his recent loss. He was happy too.
That afternoon Samuel retired to his room, closing the curtains and revelling in the solitude. One of his room mates had started to follow him but a fierce glare sent him scurrying back to the games room where a day-long tournament was underway around the battered pool table. It was the quiet weekend, mid-way between dole cheques, and few of the residents had any money left to squander on real cigarettes or a trip to the pub. In an attempt to keep them from drifting around the town causing trouble, the assistant warden had arranged a series of competitions to keep them amused.
About ten young men gathered in the recreation area, glad of the distraction as they vied for the small prizes on offer. The sound of pool balls being pocketed, bars on the table football machine spinning and rising shouts of laughter grated on him and he was happy to leave them to their inane pleasures. He lay on his bed, relaxing in the cool breeze from the river as it stirred the curtains, clearing the air of the smell of three fellow residents. There was a lot to think about.
Everything was in place for his next excursion, safely hidden out on the old airfield. Planning, he knew, was vital to success and despite the growing urge to act, the pull towards speedy gratification, he knew he had to wait a little longer. The travelling was proving difficult, for the distances were greater than he was used to and the terrain unfamiliar and potentially hazardous. He had not come close to being caught yet and he intended to keep it that way, with a few simple precautions.
Leave nothing behind, he thought. Take nothing with you when you leave. Be silent and invisible and always check, double check their routine. Patience was the key to it all. And night – the darkness of night was his friend. Closing his eyes he let his imagination wander as he drifted off into a world of his own making. First there was the watching, then the visualising where the whole event was set out and planned. Then came the imagining, the pleasure that came from anticipation of past acts revisited and new, stronger actions savoured. But soon, very soon, it would be time.
Chapter Ten
The office was buzzing when Alex arrived for work after the weekend. Relieved of the burden of court duty for the next few months, thanks to Gordon’s intervention, she found she had time to set out some detailed ideas for workshops and groups. Photography was high on the list and she hoped to persuade Gordon to let her attend the local auction later in the month.
According to the list of lots, there was
a box of darkroom equipment on offer and there were always old cameras for sale. Highpoint was blessed with a large number of independent shops, family businesses still holding their own against the relentless incursions of the chain stores, and one of these was an old fashioned photographic business. As well as offering a wide range of photography (‘Wedding’s, Christenings and Masonic Functions a Speciality’, it boasted ungrammatically), it stocked the widest range of film sizes Alex had encountered, including several that would work in a Box Brownie. She was confident that, whatever the cameras’ specifications, they would find a film to fit.
First thing on Monday, however, Gordon called a full staff meeting.
Alex tramped up the stairs from her tiny office in the old storeroom on the ground floor, joining her colleagues as they settled, somewhat apprehensively, in the day room. Sue arrived in the nick of time, sliding into a chair next to Lauren’s special seat and puffing with the effort of running up two flights of stairs.
‘Without the benefit of coffee, mind,’ she whispered to Lauren in response to her assistant’s raised eyebrows. ‘I couldn’t find anything in the kitchen this morning.’ She shot Alex an accusing glance, as if suspecting her of hiding the coffee on purpose. ‘Someone’s been tidying up!’ Alex pretended she hadn’t heard, though she had a good idea who the ‘someone’ might be. She resolved to leave a few minutes early and have a quiet word with her mother before Sue got home.
The murmuring amongst the staff died down as Gordon entered, a slim grey folder under his arm. Casting a quick smile around the gathering by way of welcome, he wasted little time on formalities.
‘Thank you for all attending so promptly,’ he said opening the folder. ‘I am pleased to be able to inform you the new senior probation officer has been appointed and will begin work on the first of July. This is, of course, a Monday – eight weeks from today, in fact, and I expect everyone to be ready for their arrival.’