by David Moody
‘You should see my house,’ Michelle said quickly, worried that she’d caused offence. ‘We’ve still got a load of boxes to unpack. It takes forever. It took me weeks to get everything ready for the move and it’s going to take twice as long to sort it all out at this end.’
‘You sure you want to?’
‘What?’
‘Unpack? I mean with everything that’s happened here since you arrived? Ken Potter killing that girl then doin’ himself in... your other half finding the body... you sure you’re safe here?’
‘You taking the piss? Tell me you’re taking the piss?’
‘Course I am,’ Jackie laughed. ‘Jeez, you’re easy to wind up. I was just messin’ with you. Like I said the other day, I know what you’re goin’ through. Thussock takes some getting used to.’
‘You can say that again.’
‘Actually, it’s not the place, it’s the people. Most of them are all right, it’s just that when they’ve lived here all their lives, they’ve never known nothin’ else, you get me? What’s wrong to us is normal to them. Dez has got these cousins on his dad’s side what live right up in the Highlands, miles away from anyone else. He took me up to meet them once – just the once – and I swear they were the weirdest buggers I’ve ever met. Had their own words for things, like they was talkin’ their own language. Kept a bloody pig in the bathroom.’
‘A pig in the bathroom? You serious?’
‘Absolutely. Thing is, they didn’t have nowhere else to keep it and it was a downstairs bathroom so it kinda made sense. Point is, sittin’ having a piss with a pig lookin’ up at you was normal in their house. If they came to your place they’d be freaked out if you didn’t have no livestock in your bathroom. You get me?’
‘What’re you saying? The further north you go, the more screwed up people are?’
Jackie just shook her head and smiled. ‘I’m sure you had your fair share of fuck-ups down south too.’
‘You can say that again. I could tell you a few tales.’
‘Then we’ll do that one night. We’ll get some drink in, get rid of the kids and the men, then sit here talking bollocks ’til we’ve drunk so much we’ve forgotten our own names. Probably do us both good, that would.’
‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Michelle said, feeling herself slowly beginning to relax. Being here felt reassuringly, unexpectedly, normal. She drank her coffee and watched the children. They were tolerating each other, warming to one another’s company. In her book, that was good enough.
‘So your man’s at Walpoles?’ Jackie asked.
‘Yeah. Driving work, mainly.’
‘That Barry Walpole can be a bit of a bugger at times.’
‘Can’t all men?’
‘You’re not wrong there.’
‘Scott’s a typical bloke. Never tells me anything about work.’
‘Ah, he’ll be fine, I’m sure. Thing about Barry is he’s a big fish in a small pond, you know? Gets himself on every committee he gets wind of, jus’ ’cause he reckons he’s some big businessman or sumthin’. Likes the sound of his own voice.’
‘I get that impression.’
‘But he’s not the worst,’ she added. ‘Unless you rub him up the wrong way or try to short change him, then he’ll come gunnin’ for you.’
‘You’re not making me feel any better, Jackie. There’s no one more stubborn than my other half.’
Jackie, still barely dressed, pulled her dressing gown tighter around her and watched Michelle drinking her coffee and watching the kids. She waited a few moments longer, the silence getting ever louder, before asking another question. ‘What are you doin’ in Thussock, Michelle? You don’t seem the type, no disrespect, nor your family neither. You’re better than this place. Why sell up and move here?’
Michelle looked anywhere but at Jackie. How much did she tell her? ‘Scott’s business went belly-up. We needed a fresh start.’
‘Yeah, but there’s fresh starts an’ there’s fresh starts. You didn’t need to come out all this way, did you? Or if you did, why not keep going that little bit further and go somewhere that’s not such a bloody dead end?’
‘Housing’s cheap here, and we’re short of cash. Really short of cash. Scott’s a builder. He’s going to do up the house and then...’
‘And then what? Housing’s cheap around these parts because there’s more folk movin’ out than in. They did up a load of houses on the other side of town a couple of years back an’ half of them are still empty. So are things really that bad, Chelle?’
Still avoiding eye-contact, Michelle looked past Jackie and out of the window, watching the slow trickle of eye-level traffic driving up and down Thussock high street. She wiped away a tear. ‘Yep,’ she answered, voice cracking, ‘things really are that bad.’
‘Want to talk about it?’
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’m not supposed to.’
‘Says who?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘I’ll not tell. Honest, Chelle, I’m no gossip. I don’t talk to many folks, and Dez never listens to anythin’ I tell him.’
‘Honestly, it’s very boring. You wouldn’t want to hear it.’
‘Maybe it’s not about me wanting to hear it, though? Maybe it’s all about you gettin’ stuff off your chest? I seen it in you from when we first started talking the other day. You’re holding onto things. Carryin’ stuff for other people.’
‘You’re wrong, Jackie. It’s been a tough few months, that’s all.’
‘No disrespect, love, and tell me to mind my own business if you want, but I think it’s more than that. I was with this bloke once... he liked to drink. Never let me do anything. When things went wrong – an’ they usually did ’cause he was pissed most the time – he’d blame me, tell me it was all my fault. Thing is, when you hear that stuff for long enough, you start thinkin’ it’s true.’
‘Scott’s not like that.’
‘I didn’t say he was.’
‘Like I said, it’s complicated.’
‘And like I said, you’ll do yourself no good holdin’ onto it all.’
‘It’s the kids more than anything.’
‘What d’you mean?’
Michelle was crying freely now, fishing for a tissue from her handbag. Jackie threw a half-empty box across the room to her. ‘They’re the ones who are struggling most. It’s not fair. We make the mistakes, they pay the price.’
‘They’re not stupid, though. They know what’s what, do kids. They know more than we give ’em credit for.’
‘So what happened, Jackie?’
‘What about?’
‘You and your fella? The one who drank?’
‘My dad happened. See, I thought he’d washed his hands off me on account of him not likin’ Kevin. Turns out he knew exactly what was goin’ on... he’d worked it all out long before I had. I went to see Dad when I couldn’t take no more, an’ he beat the shit out of Kev. Nearly bloody killed him. Took nearly two years, but it got sorted in the end. This kind of stuff always does. I reckon it’s better just to take a deep breath and deal with it.’
‘It’s not that easy,’ Michelle said, wiping her eyes furiously, cursing herself.
‘Why not?’
‘You wouldn’t understand.’
‘Try me.’
‘I’ve staked everything on coming here and trying to make things better, Jackie. I need to give it a chance.’
‘Makes sense,’ Jackie said, drawing her legs up and watching Michelle over the rim of her mug. ‘But that just reminds me of sumthin’ Dad used to say.’
‘What was that?’
‘He said things don’t get better, people do.’
Michelle didn’t say anything at first. ‘I could do with a drink,’ she said eventually.
‘Another coffee?’
‘No, a drink drink.’
‘Bit early for that.’
‘Shame.’
‘O
ne night soon, yeah? We’ll have that session we were talking about.’
‘You’re on.’
Another pause. Michelle sensed more questions were coming, but did nothing to encourage them. ‘So is that it then?’ Jackie asked after a while. ‘Your man’s business went tits up? That’s all you’re gonna tell me?’
‘That’s about it.’
‘I heard what you said about housin’, but couldn’t you just have downsized, sumthin’ like that? Why d’you move so far? You got family up this way?’
‘No, none.’
‘What then?’
Michelle paused again, knowing she shouldn’t say anything, but also knowing Jackie was right. This wasn’t her burden, why should she have to carry it? ‘Scott and I had a fight,’ she said, still unsure. ‘Can’t even remember what it was about now. Anyway, he got wound up and left the house in a temper.’
‘And...?’
‘And he had an accident. Kid just walked straight out in front of him and he hit her.’
‘Jeez...’
Michelle was shaking her head. ‘She was only six. They said it was her fault, that she shouldn’t have been out on her own. I mean, Scott was cleared and everything, but I still can’t help thinking...’
‘... that if you two hadn’t been fighting, it might not have happened?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Shit, Chelle, I’m sorry.’
‘Problem is, most folks aren’t so forgiving, especially those who knew Scott and knew what he’s like. They decided he was guilty before he went to court, and even afterwards they still blamed him. We had bricks through the window, graffiti on the garage door... That’s why the business went under, Jackie, and that’s why we’re here.’
Sophia, Jackie’s little girl, waddled over to her mother and handed her a remote control. It was sticky. Jackie wiped it clean on her dressing gown. ‘Beebies,’ Sophia said, and Jackie switched on the TV, thankful of the interruption.
‘Thank Christ for children’s TV, that’s all I can say,’ she said to Michelle.
‘Tell me about it. George watches the same two DVDs over and over. It does my head in, but it’s worth it. I’d never get anything done otherwise. It’s the only time he leaves me alone.’
‘Aye aye,’ Jackie said, pausing as she flicked through the TV channels, fighting off Sophia who tried to get the remote control back so she could put on the channel she’d asked for. ‘Look at this. We’ve made the news.’
Jackie’s television was too big for the room. It dominated one corner and, once it was on, its size demanded it be watched. There was an aerial shot of the train line on screen, pictures taken last night before the track was reopened. The police were out in force again with their garden gazebos and protective suits, unspooling miles more ‘do not cross’ tape. It reminded Michelle of the footage they’d been watching the other night, when they’d found that poor woman in the woods. Maybe Potter had something to do with that too? ‘It’s a terrible thing.’
‘From what Dez says, I don’t think Ken Potter was the type.’
‘Is there a type?’
‘Who knows. You never really know folks though, eh? Just goes to show.’
‘I guess,’ Michelle mumbled, distracted by something she was reading at the bottom of the screen. ‘Another body?’
‘What?’
‘They’re saying there’s more of them, look. Potter, the girl in his back garden, the woman in the woods last weekend, and two more.’
‘Shit, really?’
‘Look. Some guy in a village last week, and another one found between Falrigg and Potter’s house. Jesus, your man’s been busy.’
‘Someone in the shop was sayin’ last night that Ken Potter used to go walking out on Falrigg. I heard the woman there was killed the same way as the girl in his garden. They’re saying he did the same thing to both of them, apparently. Messed with them... mutilated them. Loads of blood, I heard. Nosy old cow in the post office said he sliced them up and left them to bleed out. Said it was sexual...’
‘Careful, Jackie,’ Michelle said, lowering her voice and nodding at the kids. ‘You never know what they’ll pick up on.’
Jackie nodded, but continued anyway. ‘You heard what he did, didn’t you? Threw himself in front of a train, apparently. I tell you, Chelle, it’s properly rattled some folks round here. They don’t know what to do with themselves.’
‘It all feels so close,’ Michelle said. ‘Too close.’ She watched the TV footage of the police operation; helicopter patrols, house to house enquiries, support drafted in from other forces... ‘Back in Redditch everything felt like it had some distance, you know? There was always hundreds of other people around to cushion the blow. Always some space between you and the rest of the world. It’s not like that here.’
‘Beebies!’ Sophia screamed, and Jackie changed channel, the perma-happy presenters and brightly designed sets of children’s TV immediately replacing the grim reality of the Thussock murders. It was a relief, and for the next few hours Jackie and Michelle drank coffee, ate junk food, and alternated between kids’ programmes and banal daytime TV. Michelle revelled in the mediocrity, feeling herself beginning to properly relax for the first time since arriving in town.
10
‘There’s a cinema in Thussock?’ Tammy said, not sure how she’d managed to miss something like that. ‘What’s on?’
‘Don’t know. I heard about it yesterday,’ Michelle explained as Scott parked the car. ‘It’s around here somewhere. Let’s go and have a look.’ Before anyone could say anything else, Michelle was up out of her seat. She ushered Phoebe out onto the pavement then leant inside and plucked George from his booster. She moved with far more conviction than the rest of her family. ‘Come on,’ she said, looking back at them, ‘what’s the matter with you lot?’
‘We’re coming,’ Tammy said. ‘Jesus, what’s the hurry?’
Michelle took the handle of George’s buggy from Scott then lowered her son down and strapped him in. ‘No hurry, I just want us to have a nice day out together, that’s all.’ She was off before any of them had a chance to respond.
They were looking for bright lights and neon, and so walked past the cinema twice before they found it. It was little more than an entrance between two shops, barely signposted and hardly lit. Three white steps up into a small, dark foyer, it looked more like an office than a cinema. Tammy’s heart sank when she saw it. She cursed herself for getting her hopes up. She should have known better by now. ‘This it?’
‘Guess so,’ Scott said as he and Phoebe studied the ‘now showing’ poster.
‘Any good films on?’ Michelle asked hopefully.
‘Film,’ Phoebe corrected her, ‘not films. There’s only one screen.’
‘You’re kidding me,’ Tammy said, moving closer and running her eyes down the listing. This was like one of those fleapit cinemas she’d seen when they’d been on holiday to the coast: single daily showings of films which had done the rounds months ago in Redditch. ‘Seen, seen, seen,’ she said, ‘don’t want to see...’
‘Well this is a bit of a let down,’ Scott said. ‘I’d got myself all psyched up to see something decent.’
‘Any kids films on this afternoon?’ Michelle asked hopefully.
‘No films on this afternoon,’ Phoebe told her. ‘There’s a horror movie on at eight tonight, and some historical rubbish on tomorrow.’
‘No films on a Saturday afternoon?’ Scott said, barely able to believe it. ‘How can they expect to make any money when they’re not showing films at peak times? It’s a bloody joke.’
‘Maybe it’s not about making money,’ Michelle said. ‘Look around, love, there’s hardly anyone here. I think it’s got more to do with not losing cash.’
‘Great,’ Tammy said, feeling herself getting wound up again. ‘What now then?’
‘Food,’ Michelle replied quickly, determined to keep her family positive and occupied. ‘Follow me.’
#<
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Jackie had given Mary’s café a tentative seal of approval yesterday, though it had more to do with the lack of alternatives in Thussock than any great culinary recommendation.
‘I’ll drive us somewhere else,’ Scott said when they reached the café.
‘Why?’ Michelle replied. ‘What’s wrong with this? We live in Thussock now... we need to start giving places like this a chance. Besides, George is cranky. He needs to eat. Jackie said it was okay here.’
‘Jackie? Who the hell’s Jackie?’
‘Just a friend.’
‘Since when?’
‘Since I met her at the toddler group. I did tell you.’
‘You said you’d been to a group, you never said anything about any friend.’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes, it matters.’
‘Please don’t argue,’ Phoebe groaned. ‘I’m hungry.’
‘It’s Mary’s or nothing,’ Michelle said.
Tammy leaned against the window of the café and peered inside like a miserable tourist on a wet bank holiday weekend. ‘I’ll go for nothing then,’ she said. A sideways glance from her mother shut her up.
‘Not an option. We need to eat and I’m having a day off cooking.’ She looked around at their miserable, long faces. ‘Come on you lot, stop being so bloody negative all the time. I’m making an effort, so you can too. Anyway, this place might be good. You might be surprised.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Phoebe mumbled as she followed her inside.
‘They might struggle to fit us in,’ Scott said sarcastically as he looked around at all the empty tables.
‘Stop it,’ Michelle said. ‘It’s only just turned twelve. It’ll get busier.’
The café looked as trapped in time as the rest of Thussock, perhaps even more so. The uncoordinated décor was a collision of out-dated fashions left over from different decades: part fifties milk bar, part eighties greasy spoon café, part something else entirely. They heard a dog yapping somewhere in the building. ‘A dog running wild in a café,’ Scott grumbled. ‘Not a good sign...’