Pinpoint

by Sheila Mary Taylor

  ‘I need you, Julia. You’re the only woman, the only person, I can trust. Help me, Julia. Please.’

  - 9 -

  The traffic through Wilmslow was dead slow and Julia was thankful when she finally reached Hillside House, her safe haven on the banks of the swiftly flowing Bollin River. As she drove through the wrought iron gates Nicky burst out of the front door, with Wendy close behind her.

  ‘Mummy, Mummy, Kitty’s got six kittens and they’re all like little baby tigers. ‘Cept one and he’s black.’

  ‘He’ll be lucky then, won’t he, darling.’

  ‘She’s had them all in the utility room,’ Wendy said, ‘and they look fine. She’s got water and food. Nicky’s dying to show you. Ironing’s finished, I’ve managed to do all the hoovering, and we’ve done our reading, haven’t we, pet? Despite all the excitement.’

  ‘You’re an angel as usual, Wendy. Go on, enjoy the King William tonight and have a good weekend and don’t do anything I wouldn’t,’ said Julia, as Nicky attempted to drag her away. Wendy blew a kiss and hurried to her old shiny yellow Mini. Nicky stood waving until the Mini disappeared through the gates. She turned and clasped her hands around Duke.

  ‘And, Mummy,’ she said, stroking Duke’s slobbering muzzle, ‘when Duke went to look at the kittens, Kitty hissed at him and scratched his nose.’

  Julia’s eyes misted over, marvelling at what a pair they made, this bright as a button little girl and the big, soft attentive hound. Duke squirmed with delight, tail lashing like a whip as Nicky patted his head. ‘Have you given them names yet?’ she asked as she swung the garage door open.

  Nicky screwed up her face against the sunlight shafting through the clumps of tall leafy beech trees that lined the garden. ‘Wendy says I can’t till I know if they’re boys or girls. But, Mummy, how d’you know if they’re boys or girls? Wendy won’t tell me.’

  Julia remembered today’s olive branch still in the glove box. She handed Nicky the brown paper packet. ‘Wendy’s very busy, darling. When she’s got time I’m sure she’ll tell you which kittens are which.’

  ‘Ooh! Look, Duke. Our favourite.’ Nicky rattled the miniature boxes of Smarties just out of reach of Duke’s drooling lips, then stood clear of the car as Julia drove it into the garage.

  ‘Mummy,’ she said, running to join her. ‘I wish Wendy could stay here always.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, she’s got her own home to go to.’ She felt a lump in her throat. She couldn’t help it. Her daughter probably loved her nanny more than her mother. Did life have to be that complicated, she wondered.

  ‘Mummy, is Paul coming tonight?’ Nicky opened her eyes wide, smiling in expectation.

  That look. That fleeting expression. Julia’s heart missed a beat. Simon used to look at me exactly like that, hoping I’d respond. Never coercing me, but making me feel it would be a gift to him if I did. Until finally I had realised it would be a gift for me. She smiled to herself. It would make Simon laugh. If he was here.

  ‘No, darling,’ she said, banishing the bizarre vision. ‘Paul’s busy this weekend.’

  ‘Is this your weekend off, Mummy?’

  ‘I hope so. I’m not on duty, and I’ll try not to get called out.’

  ‘Oh, goody. Then can we take Duke for a walk? We haven’t been to the park for ages.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, Paul’s words of this morning echoing in her ears.

  Nicky’s eyes widened again. ‘You mean . . . right now?’

  Julia glowed inwardly at her daughter’s ecstasy, holding back tears that were a strange mixture of relief, happiness, fear, regret, all scrambled together in one big surge of emotion. ‘I’ll get Duke’s lead,’ she said, wiping the corner of her eye.

  ‘Yippee!’ Nicky careered across the cobbled driveway, Wendy, Paul and the kittens forgotten, Duke following with great bounding leaps of joy. At the foot of the stone steps leading to the front door she waited for Julia, jumping up and down and holding out her hands. ‘Come on, Mummy. Let’s put on our track suits and our trainers.’

  As Julia closed the heavy wooden door, the phone in the entrance hall rang. ‘Oh no,’ she said, looking at Nicky as she threw herself down on one of the carved mahogany chairs on either side of the telephone table. ‘Not a call-out.'

  She crossed two fingers of her right hand and winked reassuringly at Nicky. Not convinced, her daughter backed away and slid her arm around Duke. Still staring at Julia, she tightened her grip around the dog’s neck and pressed her cheek against his snout.

  Duke licked Nicky’s face and glanced at Julia with droopy eyes as if he knew he had broken the rules.

  Julia picked up the phone. Duke was probably the most important thing in Nicky’s life, she thought. At least he was always there when she needed him. And Kitty and Wendy were close behind. And Paul. Funny, he was on the list too. She wondered how that had happened.

  She held the receiver to her left ear. I wish with all my heart that I could somehow rustle up a normal life for my child. Where she would feel secure and loved by both a mother and a father. Where she wouldn’t have to fall back on the love of a dog for her solace. Or throw herself so embarrassingly at every male friend I have . . .

  ‘Julia Grant speaking. Oh hi, Ben, I’m sorry but unless it’s really urgent do you think you could get hold of Mark. Or Caroline. I know that she’s ─ ’

  ‘Julia, take it easy, will you?’

  Why was Ben’s voice so calm? It was the voice he used in the office when he had some pretty nasty assignment for her.

  ‘Okay, Ben. What is it?’ She envisaged at the very least an urgent visit to a police station to see a client. Criminals had no respect for office hours. She reached out and touched Nicky’s cheek as though to presage as kindly as possible the inevitable disappointment. And poor Wendy. How would she react to her Friday night with Alan being ruined?

  ‘I’ve defrosted a barbecue pack,’ Ben said. ‘Will you and Nicky share it with me?’

  It wasn’t what she had expected, but anything was better than that. His usual ploy was lunch. Now and then a tête-à-tête dinner, which she always avoided. But a cosy family meal had seldom interested him.

  Oh, well. Just this once. Any other Friday night she’d have had to say no, but with Paul on duty this weekend, someone to talk to tonight after Nicky went to bed seemed a comforting idea.

  Again she winked at Nicky.

  ‘Thanks, Ben. We’d love to see you.’

  ‘I’ll be there in one hour,’ Ben said.

  ‘Make it one and a half. We’re just taking Duke for a walk in The Carrs.’ She smiled as Nicky flung both arms around Duke’s neck. ‘I’ll light the fire when we get back.’

  ‘Terrific. But take care. I suppose you’ve heard the news.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sam Smith. He’s escaped.’

  - 10 -

  Sam Smith stroked his smoothly shaven chin. Bloody dogs everywhere, dragging their fucking owners along the banks of the river. But that was okay. If he changed benches now and then there was enough space in this park to keep him inconspicuous until nightfall. Until he was ready to make his move.

  The car had been a cinch. Some thickhead in Longsight, not a block away from where they’d dumped the Scorpio, left his pale blue shed unlocked and beggars can’t be choosers. But the excitement of it all had made him hungry. He should have stopped at a chippy for a pie. He was thirsty too. And other primary urges made it difficult to sit still. But there was time for all that. Right now there were more important things on the agenda and he could wait. The months of planning were about to pay off.

  He sat on a bench watching the clear brown water flow under the bridge. Water under the bridge. That had been his life until now. But it was all about to change.

  Something made him look up. In the distance a dog barking. A child laughing, running. A woman. A flash of golden hair.

  Jeez.

  He had positioned himself right behind her house, but he hadn’t
reckoned on seeing her here, out on the riverbank. Change of plan, maybe. He watched them approach. What would his life have been like if he’d had her fucking luck?

  Now that he was free he was certain it had been something more than chance that when he was arrested, of all the solicitors in Manchester, his mates had recommended Julia Grant. For murder, they’d said, there’s no one else. Yeah - fate, not chance.

  Grinning to himself he started walking, aiming for a bench further down the river.

  - 11 -

  ‘This is my favouritest place in the whole world,’ Nicky enthused.

  ‘Mine too, darling,’ Julia said, breathing in the fresh country air. Only a mile or so north lay the teeming county of Greater Manchester with its three or four million people and almost, it seemed, as many cars. And here they were, walking along an unspoilt swathe of emerald grassland that edged the River Bollin as it curled and gurgled through the Cheshire countryside.

  ‘Let’s go this way first, Mummy. Behind these trees. Let’s pretend we’re going to see the wizard, like I do with Wendy. Come on. We’re off to see the wizard,’ she sang, ‘the wonderful wizard of Oz.’

  Duke streaked ahead, pulling Nicky behind him as he bounded along the narrow lane hidden in the trees directly behind Hillside House.

  ‘Silk Road’s my second favourite place on earth,’ Julia said, catching up with Nicky. ‘I love these huge old beech trees hanging over on each side. It’s like being inside a cathedral. And when it rains and then the sun shines on the rain drops in the branches, it looks as though it’s lit up with giant crystal chandeliers.’

  ‘Mummy, not Silk Road. It’s the Yellow Brick road. Why do you always call it Silk Road?’

  Julia grasped Nicky’s hand. ‘Because this is where they used to make silk, of course. There used to be a silk factory just over there, opposite the weir . . . ’

  She pointed to the river. A man was walking on his own, just beyond the bridge. For a moment she did not move. Another image, dim and distant, smudged the scene before her. She closed her eyes.

  Running . . . hiding, stones tearing bare feet, long grass scratching arms and face . . . blood . . .

  ‘Mummy? What’s wrong? You look funny. Oh, come on. Duke doesn’t want to stop!’

  Nicky raced down the slope towards the bridge, rattling the wooden boards and urging Julia to hurry. On the other side Duke dragged her along the path that followed the river.

  After a few minutes Julia couldn’t take any more. ‘It’s all right for you, Nicky, but I must sit down.’ She flopped onto a vacant wooden bench overlooking the rippling water. ‘Whew! I’m so unfit. I think I should join your ballet class on Saturdays.’

  ‘Don’t be so silly, you can’t do ballet.’ Nicky’s silvery laughter filled the air as she snuggled close to Julia.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Julia protested in mock outrage. ‘I’m sure I could.’ She pursed her lips, trying to keep a straight face. But it was no good. ‘Well, okay,’ she said, bursting into laughter too, ‘maybe not ballet, but something to keep me fit. Aerobics? Judo? Karate? Or . . . self-protection classes.’

  Nicky stopped laughing and looked up at her, frowning.

  ‘Mummy?’

  ‘Yes, darling?’

  ‘Who else is coming tonight?’

  ‘Only Ben. And as a special treat you can stay up for a little while.’

  ‘Why isn’t Paul coming too?’

  Still out of breath, Julia shook her head. ‘He said he was sorry, sweetheart, but he’s working late. Besides, you can’t expect Paul to come and see you every Friday night.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because ─ ’

  ‘But he’s my favourite man. He makes me laugh and makes up silly games.' She cocked her head to one side. 'Mummy?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Where’s my daddy?’

  ‘He ─ he went away a long time ago, darling.’

  ‘Is he coming back?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Is he dead?’

  The muscles in Julia’s neck tightened. What does my daughter know of death?

  Nicky twirled her hair around her finger. ‘Wendy’s daddy isn’t ever coming back and he’s dead. Wendy told me.’

  Grabbing Duke’s lead, Julia smiled at a young couple trying to restrain a panting Alsatian. She reached for Nicky’s hand, realising that if you learn that someone is dead without ever having seen that person, you have no basis for grief.

  ‘Your daddy died in a plane crash,’ she said as gently as she could. ‘When you were a tiny baby. His father and mother too. They were your grandpa and granny.’

  ‘Wendy has a grandpa and a granny. And a grandad. And a nan too.’

  Julia thought quickly. ‘Well, you also have a grandad and a nan. David and Jessie are your grandad and your nan.’

  ‘Then why do we call them David and Jessie?’

  Julia hesitated. It would be too much for Nicky to learn all at once that her father died in a plane crash along with her granny and grandpa, and that her other set of grandparents aren’t really her grandparents at all, but her mother’s adoptive parents.

  ‘Wendy has cousins too,’ Nicky said, ‘and an uncle. I wish I had an uncle. What are cousins and uncles?’

  ‘Cousins are the children of your parents’ brothers and sisters,’ she quickly explained. ‘But your daddy had no sisters or brothers. And I . . . and I have no sisters. And no brothers. So you have no cousins. No aunts. And no uncles.’

  An innocent conversation with her daughter opens the wounds again, thought Julia. They are always there, ready to split and bleed. Every day something triggers the pain of not being able to solve the riddle of her broken, hidden past; not knowing who she was.

  ‘I did have a brother once,’ she said.

  Nicky's eyes lit up. ‘You’re playing games with me, Mummy, else he’d be my uncle and you said I haven’t got any. And he’d have come to see me, so there. How can you have one and then not have him, silly?’ she asked, gripping Julia’s arm.

  ‘He’s ─ ’ She stopped. There’d already been too much talk of death. ‘He went away a long time ago,’ she said, almost to herself. ‘Far, far away.’

  ‘Is he coming back?’

  ‘Maybe,’ she said, then changed her mind. She couldn’t even explain things to herself, let alone to Nicky. ‘No. I don’t think he’s coming back.’

  ‘Mummy, I wish Paul was coming tonight.’

  Thank God for short attention spans, Julia thought. ‘Paul has important things to do. And so have we, young lady. Come on. Time to go home.’

  ‘Oh Mummy! Look at that poor bird in the river. It’s trying to get out.’

  Julia took one look at the struggling wagtail, ripped off her trainers and slithered down the bank into the swiftly flowing river. Putting both hands under the bird she lifted it out of the water. One flutter and off it flew, while Julia clambered up the bank.

  ‘Mummy, you look so funny. All wet and muddy!’

  As they ran laughing towards the bridge, something made Julia look back over her shoulder.

  Escaped?

  Well, I’m not really all that surprised, she thought. The clever ones always try. But a popular park like The Carrs is the last place he would be. Besides, these days I’m never sure what are illusions and what are strands of long forgotten reality snaking their way back into my consciousness.

  - 12 -

  The King William was more crowded than usual, even for a Friday night in trendy Wilmslow. Alan took a long slurp of his beer, and licked the foam off his lips as his eyes surfed over Wendy’s body.

  ‘Your skin has an extra glow on it tonight, Wendy. And your eyes are sparkling like you’re really in the mood.’

  Wendy blushed. Dirty bastard, I love him, she thought. He can talk to me like that all night.

  ‘I’m glad you’re not too tall. It gives me a feeling of power. And I love all that firm flesh I can grab hold of.’ He took a deep breath and looked up at the c
eiling. ‘I reckon it’s because of those twice-weekly Judo sessions you live and die for.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ she said, pulling herself up and stretching her neck so that her face was almost level with his.

  ‘You know what? You look smashing tonight. What you done to your hair?’

  ‘I felt like a change.’ Wendy’s insides trembled. Even after six years he still excited her. She loved the hugeness of him, his strength, his soft fleshy lips and those deep-set eyes that seemed to look right into the heart of you. God, he was sexy and she often wondered why he bothered with a plain, straight-haired girl like her. She smiled, feeling a surge of unexpected feminine allure.

  ‘Glad you like it.’ Most of the time Alan never seemed to notice the effort she went to. But she still made the effort ─ she wasn’t about to give up. One day, maybe tonight even, he would say yes.

  ‘Does you good to have a change now and then,’ she added, tossing her uncustomary curls so that they swirled around her head and made her feel like the girl on the telly. Because I’m worth it.

  He screwed up his eyes. ‘What d’you mean? A change?’

  She tensed her muscles, as though she was about to defend her title in the face of her arch Judo rival. Here goes. ‘Well, like all sorts of things. You know. Like I’m fed up with sharing with Janey. Like I’ll be twenty-seven Tuesday after next. I want a home of my own, Alan.’

  She sneaked a sideways glance at him. He was staring at the froth on top of his glass of beer. He knows what’s coming, she thought. ‘You must be fed up too,’ she went on, not able to stop herself even though she knew it would annoy him. ‘Like staying with your sister. Never having any privacy.’

  ‘It suits me, Wendy. I’ve told you. I’m not moving in with you, even if I could find something we could afford. It just wouldn’t work. You’re out all day and six nights out of seven, when you’re not at Judo. Who’d take my phone messages and cook my grub?’