Jenna went to the counter to order, trying hard to calm down the butterflies in her stomach. She had to play this right, or Jason might never be free. If she could get Mia on side, get the real story out of her, everything could change.
But did she want everything to change?
What if Jason strolled out and went back to his old life? What if he was just with her because she was there?
Maybe she should leave it. Because she couldn’t leave him.
But she had to try, or she would hate herself, despise herself, forever.
She turned back from the counter with her best breezy TV smile.
‘So, Mia,’ she said. ‘I think I know one of your cousins. Terri-Lynn?’
‘Yeah? She said she was at school with you.’
‘How is she?’
‘Living in Leicester now. She’s a grandma.’
‘Fuck off!’
The expletive flew from her mouth before she could stop it, and she clamped a hand to her mouth, her ears burning. You could take the girl out of Bledburn …
‘Sorry,’ she whispered, her eyes flicking around the clientele of bristling elderly folk, there for the vast range of teas, and a few hipsters. ‘But she’s my age.’
Mia giggled. ‘I know. She had Cindy when she was sixteen and Cindy’s just had Reuben, so …’
‘Jesus.’ She tried to shake the thought from her head. ‘I don’t feel mature enough to have one kid, let alone a grandchild. Do you have any kids?’
‘Nah, not me. I don’t think I’m cut out for it.’
‘Can’t say the thought’s crossed my mind much. Perhaps I’m just not the maternal type. But I’ve been too busy to even consider it, mostly.’
‘I bet. What with all your TV work and looking after big name stars. What a life.’ Mia’s voice dripped with good-natured envy. ‘How did you do it?’
‘I’m not sure. It was a whirlwind thing, once Deano’s career took off. Looking back, it seems as if I went from the estate to the Ritz in about five seconds flat.’
‘Must have been amazing.’
‘Actually, it was quite frightening. I was such a small-town girl, in a world I didn’t know or understand. I had to pretend to be this loud, confident person just to get through. You know, Eleanor Roosevelt said “Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent”, but I’m pretty sure she didn’t come from Bledburn.’
‘I’ve never heard of her.’
‘No, I guess you haven’t. So, anyway, you’re Terri-Lynn’s cousin and you run a karaoke. How long have you been doing that?’
‘Not that long. Came into a bit of cash a couple of months back and bought the rig. Karaoke’s big now, with all the karaoke TV shows. Everyone wants to be on them. Well, you should know, since you’re a judge in one of them. What I do gives people a chance to see if they’ve got a bit of what it takes. Belt out the Titanic song in front of an audience – if it goes down well, they might apply for the next series of Talent Team UK.’
‘It was a good idea. Good way to spend the money. What was it, an inheritance?’
Mia looked down at her knife and fork, and seemed immensely grateful when the food arrived, distracting them from the question.
‘Bit poncey, this,’ she said, grinning at Jenna over her upmarket bacon sarnie. ‘I don’t even know what that stuff is in yours.’
Jenna decided to try another tack.
‘I love your tattoos,’ she said. ‘That one on your arm there is stunning. Is it a copy of an artwork?’
‘Sort of. It was designed for me.’
‘Who by? Leonardo da Vinci?’
She coloured so deeply that Jenna felt she’d drawn first blood. She could do this. It was possible.
‘In a funny way,’ said Mia, ‘yeah.’ And her eyes were misty and she looked so upset that Jenna had to work hard to keep her tone light.
‘What, he came back from beyond the grave?’
‘No, it was his nickname. The guy’s nickname. The guy who did the tattoo.’
‘Right. Well, he’s very talented. Does he work in a parlour in town? I might be interested in getting one done by him, myself.’
‘No, he’s not the tattoo artist. He just did the design. The tattoo guy copied it.’
‘Do you think he’d design one for me? If I paid him?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘Why?’
‘He’s, uh, he’s dead.’
She pushed away her plate, only two bites taken out of the bread. She was very close to tears.
‘Mia, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to … Don’t go. Stay.’
She sat back down and chugged at her Red Bull.
‘That must be awful for you,’ Jenna said. ‘I guess you were close to him.’
‘I was.’
‘Was it him that left you the money? For the karaoke?’
Oh, the look on her face at that. Yes, it was sheer terrible guilt, mixed with a genuine grief. Jenna resolved to pursue her advantage, relentlessly.
‘I never deserved him,’ whispered Mia.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ asked Jenna, gently, but Mia shook her head.
‘The thing about life,’ said Jenna, speaking quietly after taking a break to eat some salad, ‘is that it gives a lot of second chances. If you do the right thing – even if it seems impossible to begin with – you get a chance to be the person you want to be again. Even if that person is poor, or unpopular, or even in prison or similar. At least you’re something like the person you want to be. Instead of the person you despise.’
Mia went pale.
‘What are you talking about? Do you know something? You know something about this. What are you on about?’
‘I know,’ said Jenna in very low tones, ‘that somebody was set up. And I know that you know all about it.’
‘What the fuck? Has Lawrence told you this? I know you’re friendly with him.’
‘Lawrence?’ She knew Lawrence Harville, and apparently, Lawrence Harville knew more than he was letting on.
‘Don’t pretend you aren’t shagging him. He’s full of it. Jenna this Jenna that. He’s a tart.’
‘Is he … Are you and he …?’
‘Yeah, I’m his bit of rough. Bit on the side. There, that’s shocked you, hasn’t it? Didn’t know you were sharing His Nibs, did you? How are the mighty fallen.’
Mia’s pretty face was contorted with spite.
‘I’m not. There’s no relationship of that kind between me and Lawrence. I can promise you that. If he’s said otherwise, then he’s a liar.’
‘So why would he tell me?’
‘To hurt you? To make you know your place?’
Jenna’s mind was whirling. Lawrence was involved with the drug-dealing on the estate? Was he, perhaps, the mastermind behind it all? He owned the pub and the shops, so … Oh God, it was too much to take in.
‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ said Mia. ‘I know my place all right. He never stops telling me I’m just his tart. But he pays well, if you know what I mean.’
‘And that’s enough for you, is it? Enough to make you betray somebody who—’
‘Do you know where he is?’ Mia’s eyes were intense, shining from the rings of kohl like jewels. ‘Jason?’
‘Who?’
Jenna had to retreat. She couldn’t let Mia know the full truth and place Jason back in danger.
‘Leonardo,’ she said meaningfully, tapping her tattoo. ‘You know, Lawrence offered to pay for me to get it lasered off. But I couldn’t go through with it. Just seemed like …’
Her voice caught.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ suggested Jenna, leaving a banknote on the table between the plates. ‘We can’t talk with all these people listening in.’
‘Oh, I’m going,’ said Mia, snatching up her bag and marching out, but Jenna was quick and hurried along at her shoulder.
‘You’re not a bad person, Mia, I can see that. You’ve got a conscience, and it’s bothering you. You can’t
live like that forever. You can’t.’
They were on the towpath of the sluggish brown canal now, on to which Mia had sharply turned, in fear of passers-by being able to overhear.
‘Oh, and what would you know about that?’ she demanded, spinning to face Jenna, her black-ringed eyes bright as blue fire. ‘What would you know about living back here? You escaped, somewhere proper. Most of us can only escape into getting high. You don’t know how that feels.’
‘You’d be surprised. No, not me,’ she said quickly. ‘But – swear you won’t tell – Deano.’
Mia appraised Jenna’s face. She might run. She might stay.
She stayed.
‘Is that why you broke up?’ she asked.
‘It’s one of the reasons. There are quite a few.’
‘It’s why me and Jase split up, too. He hated the drugs, but I couldn’t kick them.’
‘You split up?’
‘Well … I never told him in so many words, but I’d been avoiding him for ages. I still cared for him, but when the pains are bad, you’ll do anything.’
They sat down on a bench by the railway bridge. Trains clattered overhead but there were no barges on the canal, just big piles of junk and shopping trolleys baking in the sun.
‘Mia, was he set up?’
‘How do you know him?’
‘I don’t. I know his mum. I spoke to her after a meeting the other day. Poor woman. She thinks he’s dead. But she knows he was set up. She’s sure of it.’
‘Yeah, well, she weren’t much of a mum to him, when it comes down to it,’ said Mia, resentfully. ‘But she’s right. Does she really think he’s dead?’
She stared bleakly into the canal.
‘Who knows?’ said Jenna. ‘But if we can convince the police that he’s innocent, then perhaps we’ll find out.’
Mia put her hands over her face.
‘I can’t,’ she said, followed by a long sniff. ‘I’ll get killed.’
‘By whom?’
But Jenna thought she knew.
‘Don’t ask me, please. I can’t tell you. I wish there was something I could do.’
The young woman dissolved into sobs and Jenna, who had wanted to hate and condemn her, found that she couldn’t. She was a confused kid, who’d got in too deep, and couldn’t find a way out. Just like Jason. Just like all of us.
‘I wish there was, too,’ said Jenna, gently. ‘Because then you won’t have to go through your entire life knowing that you’ve sold someone you love down the river for the price of a karaoke rig.’
She stood up and walked away. Now it was up to Mia to come back to her.
But if she didn’t feel she could confess, there was one other new, and rather disturbing, avenue to explore …
The explorations would have to wait until later, though, because when she arrived home, Jason ran down the staircase to meet her waving the newspaper she had delivered daily.
‘Guess who’s in the fucking Times?’ he opened, and he didn’t sound happy about whoever or whatever it was.
‘What is it? Show me.’
He marched into the kitchen and laid the broadsheet out flat on the table, tearing through it until he reached the Arts pages.
‘Voi-fucking-là,’ he said, stabbing a forefinger directly in the photographed face of Tabitha Lightfoot. Beneath the headline, taking up the top third of the page, was one of the pictures Jenna had taken to show her at the gallery.
‘Oh, God,’ said Jenna. ‘She never told me she was going to …’
She exchanged a look of dismay with a smouldering Jason.
‘Are you sure about that?’ he said. ‘Sure you didn’t cook it up between you? Get your little project off the ground?’
‘Quite sure, thanks,’ said Jenna, bristling at the implication that Jason thought she had learned nothing from their earlier disagreement on the subject. ‘Let me read it. OK. It seems to have started life as a straightforward profile of Tabitha, but taken a turn somewhere into this mystery artist thing. Oh, Tabitha. I know you need publicity, but …’
‘Jen, if someone recognises my work, she’s going to have the boys in blue round there. It’ll lead straight here. Fuck. I’m done for. I might as well go and give myself up.’
‘Christ,’ said Jenna. ‘What can we do? There must be something. I’ll call her.’
‘What, and tell her to lie to the police? You can’t ask her to do that.’
‘I can ask her, Jason. I can’t make her, that’s all.’
‘It won’t make any difference.’ He was shouting now, but Jenna still punched the number into her phone, wondering if she’d be able to string a sentence together when Tabitha answered.
‘Oh, do what you want, I’m going to pack a bag,’ he said, banging the table with his fist before storming out.
But his fist was not the only banging to be heard.
Jenna pressed End Call before Tabitha could answer, horrified by the hammering at the door. Was it the police already? Could it be?
‘Let them in,’ shouted Jason from the landing. ‘What’s the use? I’ve got “jailbird” stamped on my forehead already.’
‘But—’
Jenna stood in the hallway, paralysed with dread, until she heard a voice call her name.
Not the police.
Without stopping to think, she opened the door.
‘Lawrence. I want to talk to you.’
‘And I want to talk to you. I hear you’ve been quite the private eye, around the estate.’
She tried to push the door back against him, but he barged his way in, causing her to stumble as he elbowed past her.
‘How dare you force your way into my house?’
‘Your house?’ His face was ugly with rage. ‘This is my house. My family’s house, in my family’s name. Harville Hall. You’re just a tenant, until I can buy it back.’
‘How’s that going to happen?’ Jenna followed him into the kitchen. ‘My name’s on the deeds now. I’m the owner, fair and square.’
‘And look what you’ve done already. Ruining the place. It’s like one of those crappy daytime DIY shows in here.’
‘Lawrence, get out. This is my property and if you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.’
‘Oh, will you?’ Again, a nasty look in his eye. ‘Really, Jenna? Is that wise?’
‘I don’t think it’s me who has cause to fear the police.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean that your name was mentioned in connection with something pretty serious to me today.’
‘By Mia? A girl so out of her mind on ketamine that she barely knows what day it is? I think you’ll have to do better than that, my dear. You know she called me the moment your little tête-à-tête was over, don’t you? She’s my bitch. She does what she’s told.’
‘You have a hold over her, I know that much.’
‘And I have a hold over you, Jenna. Because I know you aren’t alone here.’
Jenna had to fight to keep a quaver out of her voice.
‘You know nothing. You can get out and stay out.’
‘I’ll leave when I’m ready, Jen. But I thought I’d stick around for the fun.’
Jenna grasped the back of a chair to steady herself.
‘What fun?’
In reply, Lawrence walked out of the kitchen and went to stand at the foot of the staircase.
‘Oh, Jason,’ he called in a creepy mockery of a voice, his hand cupped around his mouth. ‘We’re all bored with hide and seek now. Come on out, wherever you are.’
Bowyer came scampering down first and wound himself around Lawrence’s legs before being kicked aside. Jenna, furious, picked him up to protect him from further assault.
‘Just get out,’ she hissed. ‘What do you want from me?’
‘What I’ve always wanted,’ he said, in a brief respite from calling Jason’s name. ‘My house back. But it’s OK. I’m going to get it, now.’
‘No, you’re not!’
&nb
sp; The screech of sirens sounded faintly in the distance, growing closer. Lawrence laughed with pleasure.
‘Ah, the game is on,’ he exclaimed. ‘Aren’t you going to open the door to our visitors?’
Jenna ran to the front porch and watched in horror as three police cars and a van pulled up outside, lights flashing. Within seconds, half a dozen uniformed officers were in the front garden – and they were all looking up.
Jenna ran down the stairs to see things from their perspective, and was horrified to see Jason standing on a parapet near the top of the house, above the great mullioned window at the centre of the façade. Bowyer, appalled by the noise and fuss, leapt from her arms and streaked off into the bushes.
‘Jason!’ she screamed, but her voice was drowned out by a police officer with a megaphone.
‘Come down from there,’ he called.
Jason shook his head and raised his arms so that he looked like a living statue.
‘I’m innocent,’ he shouted down, and Lawrence, now standing beside Jenna, laughed scornfully. ‘The man you want is there.’ He pointed down to Lawrence, who reiterated his scornful laugh, but with an extra forced quality.
‘Come down, and we can talk,’ shouted the policeman. ‘Or we can come up to you.’
‘Can I go up?’ urged Jenna. ‘Let me talk to him.’
‘If he’s suicidal, it should be a professional,’ demurred the officer.
‘He’s not suicidal. He’s just being dramatic. Let me talk to him.’
Jason picked something up from beside him on the ledge and threw it over the side. Paper fluttered down, like ungainly snow. His drawings.
‘What’s he doing?’ one of the police officers wondered.
Jenna wasn’t going to wait for their permission any more. She ran into the house and up the stairs, to the room that gave access on to the parapet. She could see Jason’s lower legs through the little doorway and she hurried up to them.
‘Jason, please come down,’ she begged, her heart in her throat, which was dry. She wanted to heave.
‘This is it, babe,’ he said. ‘Death or glory.’
‘Oh, don’t! You wouldn’t. You can’t. Jason, please, for me.’
‘For you? Lawrence Harville’s girlfriend? Please.’
‘I’m not. You can’t think that! I can’t stand him, now I know what he really is. It was him, wasn’t it, behind all the drug stuff?’
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