by Paul Gait
‘Please help me,’ Rupert said crying. ‘I can’t take any more of this.’
‘What the hell’s going on?’
‘After the last time you came, she beat me up again.’
‘I thought as much,’ Geoffery said.
‘I’m so ashamed,’ he blurted.
‘You shouldn’t feel ashamed. It’s her that should be ashamed for doing this to you.’
‘But I’m a man. I should be standing up to her, but I can’t, I just can’t,’ he continued, woefully.
‘Listen. Don’t berate yourself. Thankfully, God made gentle people too,’ Geoffery said sympathetically.
‘I want to leave here, but I can’t. Please help me,’ he pleaded. ‘Please help me.’
‘Why can’t you leave?’
‘She’s locked the doors and windows and taken all the phones. I’m trapped and don’t know what to do,’ he said starting to cry again.
‘Well, the first thing we’re going to do, is to get you out of there. I’ll call the Police. They’ll get you out.’
‘No, please. Not the Police. I couldn’t stand the humiliation. They’d just laugh at me. A man, beaten up by his wife. I’d be a laughing stock.’
‘I’m sure there are lots of men in your situation,’ Geoffery assured him. If you don’t want the Police involved, I don’t know what to do then. Let me think,’ Geoffery said, looking around, hoping for inspiration.
‘Please hurry, she might be back anytime.’
‘We could smash a window, I suppose,’ Geoffery said helplessly, knowing he wouldn’t have the strength to do it anyway.
‘No, they’re double glazed. Oh no. She’s here. You must go.’
‘I can’t leave you like this, to get another beating,’ Geoffery said looking at the approaching car.
Rupert backed away from the window, as Sue steered the car into the drive. She immediately leapt out dashing across to Geoffery.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded. ‘I’m afraid Rupert is indisposed. He had a dizzy turn and fell down the stairs again.’
‘I would like to see him please,’ Geoffery demanded.
‘Well, I’m sorry. The Doctor said he was not to be disturbed.’ Her tone lightened as she remembered the possible financial implications of upsetting Geoffery. ‘And you, of all people, should know not to disobey Doctors orders.’
‘I just want to tell him something and then I’ll go,’ Geoffery bluffed.
‘As I said, that won’t be possible.’
‘It’s about his inheritance. Unless I see him now, I shall be writing him out of my will.’ Geoffery knew at the mention of money, Sue would open any door.
‘Well in that case, I’ll pop in and see if he is awake,’ she said quickly, getting her keys out of her handbag.
Sue opened the two locks securing the front door, and closed it before Geoffery could follow her in.
After a few moments, the door reopened, to reveal Rupert standing on the threshold, with Sue immediately behind him.
Geoffery was taken aback by the extent of his facial injuries.
‘I’d invite you in, but the place is a tip. You said you wouldn’t be long either,’ Sue said quickly.
‘I need to speak to Rupert alone, if you don’t mind,’ Geoffery said, trying to get her away from him.
‘Sorry. But I need to stand close to him, just in case he has another dizzy turn. We don’t want you to hurt yourself again, do we Rupert?’ Sue said menacingly.
All the while Rupert was gazing at the floor.
‘In that case, I’ll have to hang on to him myself, wont I?’ he said, stepping up to the front door and taking Rupert’s arm. ‘It’s OK. I can hold him now, thanks,’ Geoffery said, staring into her glaring eyes.
Sue reluctantly let go, and backed off into the nearby kitchen. ‘I’ll just be here, in case you need me Rupert,’ she said, the malevolence, clearly evident in her tone.
‘Let’s just step down here for a breath of fresh air shall we,’ Geoffery said, steering Rupert onto the path.
‘Don’t go too far now,’ Sue directed from inside.
As they walked slowly along the path, Geoffery was assessing whether they could get to the taxi before Sue would spot his intention. He knew that he wasn’t strong enough to play tug of war with her. Then he spotted them. In her haste to keep her hand on to the inheritance, she had left her keys in the door. Letting go of Rupert, Geoffery rushed to the door and slammed it shut, quickly turning the key in the lock.
The response was immediate. Like an angry Rottweiler, she rushed to the door, trying to open it.
‘Open this door will you! I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but Rupert is ill. He is self-harming,’ she said, hammering on the door. ‘I need to keep a close eye on him, to stop him killing himself.’
Geoffery stopped, wondering if he was doing the right thing. She had planted seeds of doubt in his mind. Was Rupert mentally ill and self-harming? Or was this another one of her deceitful stories?
Rupert was now crying, his whole frame racked with tears. He covered his ears with his hands, trying to block out the sound of her voice.
Geoffery paused only for an instant. He knew what he must do. He quickly led the pathetic Rupert, back to the taxi.
‘Please, don’t make me go back,’ he sobbed. ‘Please, don’t make me go back. I can’t take anymore.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Geoffery said gently. ‘You’re safe now.’
‘We need to get out of here quickly, or she’ll be after us,’ Rupert sobbed.
‘No, It’s OK. I’ve locked her in.’
‘She’s got a baseball bat. She’ll smash her way out,’ he muttered through his swollen lips.
Like a couple of arthritic old men, they moved painfully slowly to the taxi, and as if on cue, there was a loud bang and a sound of smashing glass from behind them.
‘Quick, let’s get out of here,’ Geoffery urged the taxi driver.
As the taxi accelerated down the road, they could hear more glass being broken and Sue shouting obscenities.
‘What happened? Why has she done this?’ Geoffery said, studying Rupert’s injured face.
‘Sue found text messages to my friend on my mobile, saying I was going to leave her,‘ Rupert said weakly.
‘Do you mean your LADY friend, Joanne?’ Geoffery said, knowledgeably.
‘How do you know about her?’ Rupert said, surprised.
‘I have my methods.’
‘What am I going to do now?’ he sniffled. ‘I can’t ever go back home.’
‘What about Joanne? Does she have a house?’ Geoffery asked sympathetically.
‘Sue used my phone and texted her to say our relationship was all a big mistake. That it was all off, and that I wouldn’t be seeing her again. Anyway, I don’t want her to see looking like this,’ Rupert said miserably.
Looking back, they could see that Sue had managed to escape from the house and was standing in the middle of the road, shouting.
‘Oh no,’ said Rupert. ‘She’ll be coming after us in her car.’
‘No. Don’t worry,’ said Geoffery, still clutching Sue’s keys. ‘She won’t.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘This self-harming. She was making it up, right?’ Geoffery asked cautiously.
‘Yes, of course. Why would I want to hurt myself? My life is just starting to turn around. I planned to leave Sue, even before I had even heard about you, and your letter. When you said, you know, about the inheritance, I couldn’t believe my luck. And now, it’s fallen all around my ears.’ Tears started streaming down his face, as he recalled Sue’s threats to punish him if he ever left her. ‘Wherever you hide, I will find you,’ she had told him, during countless beatings.
‘Don’t worry,’ Geoffery said, giving him his handkerchief. ‘Let’s get your injuries sorted first. Then we’ll book you into a hotel, where she won’t find you. When you’re feeling able, then you can contact your lady friend and explain wha
t’s been going on. How does that sound?’
‘Thank you,’ Rupert said filling up again. ‘I don’t know what to say. You’ve helped me to get away from her. It’s been a marriage from hell. Thank you so much,’ he added, clutching Geoffery’s thin hand and squeezing it.
‘It’s OK,’ Geoffery said, looking away to hide a tear, running down his cheek. ‘I gather that helping and guiding is what Godfathers do.’
Rupert relaxed back into the leather seat closing his eyes. Perhaps things were going to get better after all.
‘But there is something I want you to do urgently,’ Geoffery said, suddenly remembering the original purpose of his visit. ‘Now, it’s my turn to ask you for help.’
‘Anything. Just name it,’ Rupert said.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Monday October 27th – Sunset count 57
‘So you reckon he’s definitely in London,’ said a bemused James. ‘You realise it’s a bleeding big place?’
‘Yes, and I think I’ve walked the majority of it,’ Andy said edgily. ‘But Geoffery has established that Ben has been posting updates to his Facebook from internet cafes in the Tottenham Court road area.’
‘How’s he done that?’
‘His nephew is a computer expert. Something to do with IP addresses. I don’t know. It’s all beyond me.’
‘So why don’t you go there yourself?’
‘I have. But the owners are a bit cagey. They don’t know anything about anything.’
‘What about your secret squirrel? He’s got eyes in the back of his head, hasn’t he?’
‘He’s on another case. Look, Ben’s mother is worried about him.’
‘Perhaps she should keep a closer eye on him then.’
‘Unfortunately, for Ben, she also enjoys her booze too much.’
‘She’s obviously a woman after my own heart!’
Andy looked at the matted beard and flushed face in front of him and felt fearful for Ben. ‘Come to think of it, you’ve got a lot in common with her. She’s often out of her head on drink or drugs.’
‘You mean, when it comes to it, she couldn’t give a toss for him. I know what that feels like, being deserted by your parents.’
‘Look, I’m very concerned that Ben will fall into bad company.
‘Well, that’s probably a certainty. There’s no shortage of weirdo’s here, that’s for sure.’
‘So will you help?’
‘How?’
‘Just keep your eyes open for him and let me know if you see him.’
‘What’s it worth? A man can get thirsty, keeping a look out.’
‘If you find Ben, I’ll buy you a crate of booze.’
‘I could do with a bit of food now though. How’s it looking for a sub?’
‘What happened to the fifty quid I gave you for the hostel, that you didn’t sleep in?’
‘I spent it on stuff.’
‘More booze?’
‘Look. My pockets are empty.’
In order to prove his point, James turned his pockets inside out. Cascading crushed, discoloured cigarette ends on to the pavement. Amongst the detritus, Andy spotted sweet wrappers tied in knots.
‘Don’t tell me, you’ve been wasting your drinking money on sweets too,’ Andy said sarcastically.
‘Sweets!’
‘There, look. You’ve even tied the wrappers in a knot.’
‘I couldn’t even tie shoe laces with hands like this,’ James said, holding out his shaking, grubby hands to reinforce his point. ‘I’m not interested in sweets.’
‘Where did you get those from then?’
‘I don’t know. An ash tray somewhere, I suppose. Why?’
‘No, it’s too much of a coincidence.’
‘What?’
‘Ben ties knots in his empty sweet wrappers and crisp bags like that.’
‘And so does half the population, I should think.’
‘Yeah, I suppose so. But, on the off chance he was there, try and remember where you got the dog ends from, please.’
‘Who knows! The Court Road is one of my regular ciggie shops. It could have been there.’
‘Well, just try to think.’
‘Remind me. What does this kid look like again?’
‘It’s a pity my battery has gone on my mobile, or I could have showed you the picture Geoffery took. Well, he’s fourteen, has black curly hair, brown eyes, Olive skin and is about five feet six.’
‘That describes about half the runaways in London.’
‘He’s got some fuzz under his nose; you know, a teenage ‘tash.’
‘Yeah, OK, I get the picture. Now, how about that money?’ James said, holding his hand out expectantly.
‘Here’s a tenner. Try and get some food inside you, please,’ Andy said, knowing that the request would fall on deaf ears.
‘Cheers, you’re a gent,’ James said, already dreaming of the Sherry trickling down his throat.
‘Look, I’m going back to my hotel in Russell Square,’ said a tired Andy. ‘I think I’ve walked every grotty street in London. After seeing all those ‘down and outs’, I just hope Ben is safe.’
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
James returned to his bench in the park. Around him the rush hour traffic was noisily battling to leave the choked capital. Oblivious to the commuter chaos, James carefully withdrew a large green sherry bottle out of his filthy coat pocket.
‘Money for food, indeed,’ he said, possessively stroking the bottle.
His turn of fortune, having Geoffery in his life, had provided him with an unexpected and much welcomed glut of booze. With the handouts from the Nurse and selling that bleeding mobile phone, it had meant that he was well provisioned, his alcoholic needs, more than satiated.
Lord Jim of the park bench was back in residence.
Startled at James’s arrival, a teenager, already on the bench, stood and started to leave.
‘Don’t worry about me kid. As soon as I’ve had my night nurse, I shall be away in the land of nod. Ha! Night nurse! That’s a good one,’ said James, chuckling to himself at the unintended association with Andy.
Uncertain, the boy slowly sat back down, whilst keeping a wary eye on the dishevelled character.
James’s continued efforts, struggling to unscrew the bottle top, was thwarted by his limited dexterity. In spite of cursing the manufacturers for over-tightening it, the errant top stubbornly refused to budge. Finally, James gave in, and asked the boy for help.
‘Here kid, open this for me, will you?’
The boy stood and started to leave, unwilling to have any involvement with the drunkard.
‘Hey kid, come on. Help me out here.’
‘You should get off that booze Mister, it’ll kill you,’ said Ben, heading for the exit path.
‘Don’t you start. I’ve had enough of do-gooders telling me what to do. So piss off, if you’re not going to help me,’ James said continuing to struggle with the bottle.
The boy stopped in mid stride and looked back at the pathetic figure. He was struck by a pang of conscience, an empathy, an understanding of the man’s need for the bottle’s contents. He turned around and went back to the tramp.
‘OK. Let me see if I can open it,’ he said, putting out his hand. ‘But you really should…’
‘I know. Give it up! Save my life! I’ll do it tomorrow.’
The boy took the bottle, as James continued, ‘I need this, I’ve been traipsing around London, all day, looking for some bleedin’ kid.’
The boy stopped in his attempts to undo the top. ‘Why would this tramp be looking for a kid? Was he some sort of pervert?’ he wondered, apprehensively.
‘Come on. I haven’t got all day. I’m dying for a drink.’
‘Dying of drink, more likely, said the boy contemptuously. ‘Just like my mother.’
‘A drinking mother! Now that’s a bit of a coincidence.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The kid we’ve been looking
for all day; he’s got a drunkard for a mother.’
‘Well, it’s not mine! She’s not a drunkard,’ Ben said defensively. But realistically knowing, that he was right. ‘She just likes to…’
‘Drink!’ Nothing wrong with that,’ James agreed. The boy’s revelation, about his mother’s needs, was empathetic to his own view and dependence on alcohol.
‘Precisely what I said to this bloke, Andy, that I’ve been with all day,’ James continued.
Ben looked at the tramp startled. ‘Andy! It couldn’t be! Surely,’ he thought.
‘What does this bloke look like?’ Ben asked.
‘Here! Have you undone that bottle yet?’ James said, unable to take his wide eyed gaze from Ben’s hands, still unsuccessfully twisting the bottle.
‘You know an Andy do you?’ James said, salivating, in anticipation of tasting the first drops of this golden elixir.
‘Yes.’
‘Well, that’s another coincidence, isn’t it? Here, Your name’s not Ben, is it?’
‘What if it is?’
‘Well. As I say, this bloke Andy is looking for you.’
‘I don’t want to see him. Where is he?’ Ben said, scanning the park.
‘Don’t worry. He’s gone to his hotel, in Russell Square.’
‘I don’t want to go home.’
‘You look like a smart kid. Why run away from home for this shit?’ James said, looking at the manic necklace of traffic chaos surrounding the park.
‘It’s personal.’
‘OK. You don’t have to tell me anything. It’s nothing to do with me.’
‘My mother can’t get enough of this stuff,’ said Ben, gazing at the still unopened bottle. ‘But I can’t get her to stop.’
‘You’re lucky. I never really knew my Mother,’ said James, gazing absently at the ground.
‘Why?’
‘She was killed in an air crash.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry,’ said Ben sympathetically.
‘It was a long time ago now though.’
‘To be honest, my Mother’s problem is… she’s addicted to the stuff,’ confessed Ben, twisting the bottle uncomfortably in his hands.
‘My problem is, I usually can’t get enough,’ groaned James.
‘How long have you been…addicted, then?’