‘Stay,’ she said. ‘I like it.’
‘I wish I could keep a bit of myself inside you all the time,’ he said. ‘You could walk around with your pussy full. I’d love that. If only it could be done. Maybe one day.’
She snuffled out a laugh into the coverlet.
‘You’re weird.’
‘Artistic temperament, yeah?’
‘I’m sure that must be it.’
He drew out reluctantly and unbuckled her cuffs. She pulled off the blindfold and lay on her back, looking up at his misty face.
‘You’re quite something, you know,’ she said.
‘Not so bad yourself,’ he replied.
‘Thanks.’
‘So—’ He coughed, slightly nervously. ‘I can’t believe I’m setting myself up for this, but … Who’s the best you ever had?’
‘Jason! You’re fishing for compliments.’
‘No, I’m not. I know what I’m hoping you’ll say, but if it turns out to be someone else, I want to know why, so I can work on my own technique. If I’m not the best you’ve ever had, I’ll make fucking sure I am next time.’
She took a deep breath. ‘Bloody hell. You’re something else.’
‘So?’
‘It’s you, of course. By about this much.’ She spread her arms wide in the air.
He was clearly extremely pleased with himself, and kissed her, but she was touched by a hint of insecurity when he made her repeat it.
‘You’re not just saying that? To be nice? Cos I’m here and the other bloke isn’t?’
‘No, no and no. Anyway, it’s not a competition. I know you’ve slept with lots of women and I’ve no intention of asking for a comparison.’
‘I’ve never shagged anyone like you.’
‘What do you mean, like me?’
‘Class. Peng and posh.’
Jenna laughed.
‘What the hell is peng?’
‘Fit, yeah?’
‘Oh. Thanks for the compliment, then.’
‘No probs.’
He lay back for a while and Jenna watched him from the corner of her eye as he stared up at the ceiling. She thought about getting a shower, thought about getting some food, but it all seemed too much effort.
‘I could be falling for you,’ he said, eventually.
‘So could I,’ she admitted.
‘But what’s the use?’ He turned, leaning on one elbow, his huge dark eyes sombre. ‘Where are we going, Jen? There’s no future. Definitely not for me, anyway.’
‘There is a future. There can be and there will be.’
‘How? All I’m doing here is putting off what’s inevitable. Sooner or later I’ll end up in prison and you’ll go back to America.’
‘Jason, don’t. You’re innocent. You were set up.’
‘All the evidence is against me, Jen, you know it. It’s not that I’m scared of going to prison – I’m not. It’s just … I don’t know. I was starting to think my life was worth something.’
‘Your life is worth something.’
‘It’s the first time I’ve ever thought so. It’s like, I don’t know if I dare. If I start thinking like that, then I’m going to fall harder, aren’t I, when the time comes? Might as well go back to being what I was, just some chav with nothing going for him.’
‘Jason, stop it. You aren’t that. You were never that. Nobody is.’
‘You’d have crossed the street to avoid me, if you’d seen me out of here.’
‘No I wouldn’t. I’m no different from you. I come from where you come from. I couldn’t have made it out without Deano, I know that. I accept it. I built my career on his talent. It’s not something I feel that great about, to be honest, but it’s the way it is. You have so much more than that. You’re a brilliant artist. You’re clever, but you just never bothered with school. You’re good-looking, you’re engaging, you’ve got a great sense of humour. You’ve got everything it takes, except self-esteem.’
‘And a price on my head. Don’t forget that.’
‘What, there’s a reward out for you?’
‘Nah. I dunno. Might be. But it’s not the best start to my amazing artistic career, is it? A five year stretch for possession with intent.’
Jenna sighed. ‘There has to be a way to clear your name.’
‘Leave it, Jen. Don’t get mixed up.’
‘Where’s this house you were arrested in? Who owns it?’
‘The council.’
‘Yes, but you weren’t the tenant, were you? Who was?’
‘Mate of Mia’s. I told you.’
‘You didn’t tell me it was a mate of Mia’s. You said “some bloke”.’
‘Oh God, her mate’s boyfriend or something.’
‘What mate? What’s her name?’
‘Don’t, Jen.’
‘Tell me.’
‘No.’
‘I can—’
‘No, I said, no.’ Jason leapt out of bed and stomped upstairs to the bathroom.
Jenna sighed and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. She had to find the answer to Jason’s difficulties, otherwise he was absolutely right. There was no future for them.
Chapter Seven
The youth club was packed out: people sitting on the radiators, and piling into the tiny kitchen space, to get their coveted place at the meeting.
At the front, behind a table, sat Jenna, Kayley, the Head of Youth Services at Bledburn Borough Council, and Lawrence Harville.
The date for the talent contest had been set for three weeks’ time, and every young person on the estate wanted a stake in it.
‘Can we do skateboarding?’
‘What, in here?’ asked Kayley, to laughter.
‘No, I mean, maybe set up some jumps in the car park.’
‘No, it has to be something you can do inside, in front of the audience here.’
Disappointment rumbled and then died down as the next question was sought.
‘We’ve got twenty people in our street dance crew, can you fit us all in?’
‘I don’t see why not, if you don’t need the whole floor for your routine.’
The meeting was lively, and generally good-humoured, until one woman, sitting near the front, said, ‘Why couldn’t you have come a year earlier? My lad’s the best painter in the county; something like this could’ve saved our Jase.’ Electrified, Jenna leant forward. This must be Jason’s mother.
‘I’m sorry you feel we’ve left it too late,’ she said, carefully, looking hard into the woman’s bloodshot eyes. ‘I hope we can make the difference we couldn’t make for your son for somebody else. I hope you’ll support us in that and I hope things work out for your son.’
Instantly, she realised that she sounded as if she knew Jason was still alive, when his mother had referred to him in the past tense. She swallowed and looked away, hoping nobody had picked up on this.
‘I mean,’ she mumbled, feeling that she was too late to fix her mistake but she ought to try, ‘if that’s possible.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Lawrence, speaking over the woman’s attempt to reply. ‘Jason Watson is known to the police and wanted for serious drug offences. No amount of artistic talent can get him off those.’
Jenna felt suddenly and intensely enraged with Lawrence and had to work like fury to keep her face and voice neutral.
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ she said.
‘It’s not right,’ muttered his mother, amid boos and catcalls. ‘He hated drugs, did our Jase. Hadn’t even smoked a joint for years.’
But nobody was listening and the meeting moved on to logistical matters around filming and sound systems.
At the end, Jenna broke away from Lawrence, who was eager to monopolise her, to catch up with Jason’s mother.
‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘Do you mind? I mean, I was really sorry to hear about your son. Was it him who did the mural, on the wall over there?’
She nodded.
Now that Jenna was close, she
could see the lines and broken veins on the woman’s face, that made her look older than she was. Her badly bleached hair didn’t help, either. If only her eyes were less red, though, they could almost be his.
‘Drugs are killing this estate,’ said Jenna. ‘And the kids who grow up here. I’m thinking of sponsoring a project to help vulnerable youngsters in danger of addiction. Would you mind if I came to see you, to talk about your son?’
‘I told you. He ain’t no drug addict. He never took a thing, since he was a teenager. Took a shitload, back then, mind. Oh, he was a terror.’
‘Could I, though?’ Jenna persisted gently. ‘I’d like to know more about him. Perhaps I could help.’
‘Well, I don’t see how. But all right then. Flat 5, Cloke Court, by the shops.’
‘Later today? In about half an hour?’
‘The house is in a state. I ain’t been too well lately.’
‘I don’t mind. It’s fine.’
‘All right then. But don’t judge me.’
‘I promise I won’t.’
It was difficult to get away from Lawrence, who seemed hell-bent on taking her out to lunch, but Jenna pretended to want a private word with Kayley and he gave up and left, promising to call her later.
‘He’s a bit full-on,’ remarked Kayley, once they were safely hidden away in her tiny office. ‘I couldn’t go with a Harville, though. Not that I’m trying to tell you what to do.’
‘He’s been chasing me since I got here, but I’m not really interested.’
‘So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?’
‘Oh, do you know what? It’s completely gone. Sorry, Kay. It’ll come back to me. I’ll call you. Mind if I go out the back way? Thanks.’
She was free and clear. She watched Lawrence’s car negotiate the roundabout and take the high road out of the estate, then walked up to the shopping precinct.
A few of the teens who’d been at the public meeting sat around on the low wall by the off-licence, laughing, and flirting and showing off to each other.
Jenna skirted them, careful to keep herself out of view, and took the service road behind the shops to the small complex of square, low-rise flats that sat, ugly and squat, on the dried grass between them and the pub.
Cloke Court had a shopping trolley by the security door and two of the six flats were boarded up. Number five, when she was buzzed in, was at the rear of the building on the first floor, overlooking the pub car park.
This was where Jason grew up, she thought.
The front door was cheap wood, scratched, and the hallway smelled of stale cigarette smoke.
When his mother answered the door, she showed Jenna into a cluttered living room. It would have been just like any other place occupied by a person who had given up hope – dirty and neglected – if not for the remarkable artwork on the walls. Jason had painted the view through the window, over and over again, but each time it was different. In one version, the pub was a palace and the car park a gorgeous garden. In another, strange, zombie-like figures roamed the landscape. The pictures were so varied and so fascinating that she forgot to say hello to his mother until she coughed, and spoke.
‘You see what I’m saying? Talented.’
‘I’ll say. These are incredible.’
‘I’d make you a cuppa but the kettle’s on the blink. I’ve got Coke. Or something stronger.’
‘Oh, Coke’ll be fine, thanks.’
She sat down, clearing a space on the sofa first. The window was open, but the place smelled of old cider and cigarette smoke.
Kathy came back with a can of Coke – no glass – and a lager for herself.
Although Jenna knew her name, she had to ask.
‘Sorry, so you’re …?’
‘Kathy. And my boy was Jason.’
‘And what happened to him?’
‘He’s gone. Don’t know where, nobody does. He got busted, but it weren’t him. I know it, I’d swear on my life. His life.’
‘So he’s in prison?’
‘No, like that snake, Harville, said: he did a runner.’
‘Have you any idea where?’
Kathy swallowed a swig of beer, shaking her head.
‘Not a clue,’ she said.
‘If he was set up, who do you think was behind it?’
‘I don’t know, but I didn’t trust that girlfriend of his further than I could throw her. Mia Tarbuck. She was playing around behind his back, I know that much.’
‘Do you? Who with?’ Jenna felt uncomfortably as if she was showing a little too much interest, but she had to ask these questions, had to find some answers from somewhere.
‘I saw her with some other bloke in town, in the Wetherspoons. Don’t know his name – I don’t think he was from round here. Her and her no-good mates, all showing off their belly-button piercings. Never liked that crowd. They used to bully our Jase at school.’
‘Oh, no, I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘It were their fault he started getting into trouble. Trying to stand up for himself, trying to impress them so they’d leave him alone. He’s a good lad, underneath it all, I swear.’
‘I know,’ said Jenna, then she caught herself. ‘I mean, I’m sure you’re right. And such a brilliant artist. How old was he when he started all this?’
‘Tiny. He used to copy the cartoon characters when he were, what, three or four? Draw ’em, really good for a little ’un. It were good: a pack of crayons and some paper don’t cost much, does it? It were a cheap hobby. I could afford that much.’ She laughed, but it turned into a chesty smoker’s cough.
‘And from that start, he grew into this …’ Jenna looked around her again. Barely an inch of the wall was bare of Jason’s efforts. Judging by the mould spotting the ceiling and blackening the window seals, it was probably just as well.
‘He could have done so well for himself.’ Kathy shook her head and reached for the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table. ‘D’you mind if I light up, duck? I wouldn’t, but my nerves …’
Jenna shook her head, although she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in a smoky environment. LA was simply and utterly smoke-free, at least in the circles she frequented.
‘So, this Mia was his downfall then, would you say?’
Kathy nodded vigorously.
‘He was too taken up with her. I always felt she were laughing at him, taking the piss. He’d do anything for her, and she knew it.’
‘Where is she, now? Do you think she knows where he is?’
‘Oh, I dunno. Nobody saw her for a while, but now she’s back in the pub most nights with her dodgy mates. She does the karaoke in the back room – that’s her job. Goes round town with her machine of a night.’
‘Where does she live?’
‘I think she lives upstairs at the pub. You don’t see hide nor hair of her all day, mind. She only comes out at night.’
‘Like a vampire.’
Kathy laughed, wearily, at that. ‘Yeah, you could be right, love. Perhaps she’s a vampire.’
‘Was he still living with you, when he disappeared?’
‘No, duck, no. He was sofa-surfing, as they call it. I couldn’t cope with him. I wasn’t the best mother to him, I’ll hold me hands up. I suppose he was what you could call neglected. But I love him, and I miss him, every day and I keep thinking he’ll walk through that door with his big, cheeky smile …’
She broke off, and Jenna put a hand on her shoulder, feeling it shake beneath the lint-covered vest top.
‘You know, I think he’s all right, Kathy. Don’t ask me how I know but I just have this feeling that he’s fine.’
‘You’re very kind, love. I hope you’re right.’ She choked back a sob. ‘He was such a gorgeous little boy.’
‘Thank you for talking to me about him. Would you mind very much if I borrowed some of his artwork? I’d like to show it to a friend of mine who owns a gallery?’
‘For real?’
‘For real. It’s
so good. I think she’d like to see it.’
‘Well, OK, duck. I’ll go and get a few bits together. I can’t give you any of these in here because you can see how I’m fixed – it’s my wallpaper.’
While Kathy shuffled off to a bedroom to gather up some more of what seemed to be an extensive collection of Jason’s work, Jenna had a surreptitious search of the living room. She could find nothing that might help Jason out of his predicament, though, so she took the armful of teenage masterpieces, thanked Kathy for her hospitality and determined to try Mia at the pub.
‘She won’t be up,’ warned the landlord. ‘What do you want with her, anyway?’
‘It’s business. She does karaoke, doesn’t she? I was thinking of hiring her for my Gala, up at Harville Hall.’
‘You’re bringing back the Gala? Blimey, that’s a blast from the past. Won’t be the same, though, will it? Too much water under the bridge.’
‘I thought it might cheer everyone up a bit. Bledburn’s got that miserable since I left.’
‘Well, you’re not wrong there. I’ll give her a shout, but she’ll be dead to the world, I can guarantee it.’
The landlord disappeared upstairs, leaving Jenna with two inquisitive Staffies to look after. They panted and circled her legs, barking at each other, until the landlord returned, his face giving away the answer to her request before he had to speak it.
‘No chance,’ he said. ‘She’s not getting out of her pit for anyone till six this evening.’
‘OK, well, could you pass on my number, then? Ask her to call me. Jenna Myatt. About the karaoke.’
‘Will do.’
The landlord looked after her with bemusement as she left the pub. The people of the estate had got used to having a celebrity on their midst, and barely turned a hair when she appeared on the scene now. They had never been easily impressed, mind you. This estate was for people who could prove themselves in a hard world.
Hardly any of them even asked after Deano any more, although she was still regularly quizzed about whether Colin Samson, her nasty co-host, was ‘really like that’.
She thought about Deano as she drove home. How was he, now? Did he miss her? Did he have regrets?
Only one man was on her mind when she arrived at the Hall, though, especially when she went out into the garden to find him hacking at the dead and overgrown rosebushes in nothing but his tight jeans.
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