SHADOWS OF REGRET: If your life was ruined, would you seek redemption or take revenge?

by Ross Greenwood

  He airily waves his hand in the air. His eyes narrow and I suspect he is about to be serious.

  ‘Irina told me about your problem with the probation guy. Do you know what you are going to do about it?’

  ‘What can I do? It’s the system. I hate it. I’ll be a fugitive for the rest of my life if I vanish.’

  ‘So what? Those are society’s rules. Choose the conditions you work to. Or accept none at all.’

  ‘What would I do for a job, for money? I can’t pay tax.’

  ‘Wow. I’ve not heard that one before. You can work for me. Only rich people should pay tax. I'll get you a new ID from anywhere you like.’

  ‘How about England or America?’

  ‘America, no. England, maybe. You don’t need one of those. Start from scratch. Pretend you are a refugee.’

  ‘Don’t they fingerprint asylum seekers?’

  ‘It's not a problem. Look, they have no idea who lives in this country. There are millions of undocumented migrants. I can sort it for you.’

  ‘I just want to be happy.’

  ‘Happy? Pah! Who’s happy? Happiness is a dream. Life is up and down. Some people take pills to make them permanently content, but deep down they know they live in a chemical bubble.’

  ‘I’m tempted, but it’s such a risk. The operation you’re running here seems suspicious, too. I learn quickly but I was away for a long time. My lack of experience makes me naïve.’

  ‘I am party to a few dodgy dealings as you say. Nothing that you’ll be involved in. With a new ID, you can go anywhere you like. Work with us for a while then disappear. Look in the mirror. You are changing, like the butterfly. No one from your previous life would recognise you now.’

  ‘I have a question. Those girls I saw circulating near the end tonight, were they prostitutes?’

  ‘Them?’ He grins. ‘Aren’t we all? It’s like being taken out for a meal by someone. They pay the bill, afterwards you have sex. Everyone smiles. Sometimes, the lady is not hungry and would just like the money. Then they have sex. Everyone’s still happy.’

  ‘Very romantic, Radic.’

  ‘It's true! I like you, Katie. My wife does too. Men downstairs asked after you when you were here last. They wanted to know who you are. I say to them, you have no name. They are not worthy of knowing it. They want you even more now.’

  He stands and stretches.

  ‘I’ll ring you with you some job details, but there’s a condition.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘You tell me your past.’

  He places money on the table and walks toward the door.

  ‘Do I need to lock up?’

  ‘Gregor will do that. Stay, have a drink and relax. You’ve earned it.’

  At that moment, Gregor returns. He nods to Radic, and then helps himself to a beer at the bar. I get the same sleepy smile he’s shown me every time we meet. Radic winks and leaves. A warmth flows through me from head to toe. It’s years since that happened. I count five twenties in the note pile and know my decision. My thoughts stray to the farm which was the last place I belonged.

  36

  The Ninth Memory - Age Fourteen

  I loved the farm. Not only that, but I belonged there. My new brothers, Bill and Simon, were exactly what I expected from siblings. They were fun and friendly one minute, cheeky and rude another. We took turns quarrelling but always looked out for each other. If we had sweets, we split them, and if we caused trouble, then we shared the blame.

  It wasn’t perfect. We had to catch a bus to school due to our isolation. It was a tight-knit community. Everyone knew we were fostered, which seemed to be stigmatised, as though it tainted us. We sat together on those journeys and the boys fought when necessary.

  Simon and Bill were a year above me. That meant I knew no one else in my class to start with, and I struggled to make friends. As the months flowed into years, a few girls accepted me and life became easier. Nevertheless, I couldn’t wait to get back home after lessons finished.

  Teddy, as Erin called her husband, was a quiet man and difficult to judge. He had a solitary, hard job. Perhaps all that time alone changed him, or maybe that’s just the way he was. Erin’s name for him didn’t fit at all, so us kids called him Ted.

  For Bill, Simon, and me, the farm became our playground. We hid in barns, haystacks and silos. Ted even let us drive or sit on the tractors and other farm vehicles. Health and safety was standing back from the combine harvester when it rattled past you. Ted loved those boys. Bill, in particular. Despite working long hours, Ted would make time for us kids every Sunday.

  Twins lived at the next farm along which was about a mile away, and they joined our gang. They cycled to ours and we’d all pile into the back of the rusty truck Ted drove around the place.

  They were an unusual pair. Each had a shock of incredibly thick blond hair that stood up like they’d been electrocuted. Jordan behaved like a typical sparky lad in the same vein as Simon and Bill. Justin, on the other hand, was dim-witted. Ted said he had been dropped at birth. If that was the case it must have been from a great height. He would slip into a trance, stare into the distance for hours on end, and not say a word. It made him continually late and we’d call him Justin Time.

  The boys loved fishing, Jordan and Simon in particular. Ted called them Jordan River and Simon Salmon for obvious reasons. When the rest of us got bored with it and ran off to the woods to play, Simon would still stand in the shallows with his eyes hidden from the sun in a low-pulled cap.

  The only person who didn’t get what she wanted was Erin. I think she hoped I’d call her Mum and plant flowers in the yard. I understood her pleasure at shopping trips and cappuccinos in cafes, but it wasn’t me. I would go on the odd occasion to keep her happy. Sometimes, she and Ted would give me the choice. After umming and ahhing, I’d always end up waving to her as we bounced away up the dusty track to the river.

  With all four boys older than me, they grew up before I did. I remained a girl in T-shirt and jeans when they started experimenting with alcohol and marijuana. I had the odd taste, but the former made me queasy and the latter induced paranoia. The others weren’t that fussed either. Only Bill persevered as though he needed to get used to it.

  Bill grew tall and broad, which hinted at raw strength. Only the big muscles were missing at that point. He led, and we followed. Justin Time spent hours staring at him and would slavishly follow. That adoration would’ve freaked me out but Bill loved being in charge and the attention.

  Despite the insecurities I felt at school, I wanted that period to last forever. It was the one time I forgot about Tommy. We discovered a love of nature and exercise, and I learned to swim and would dive in quarries and ponds. We’d try and shoot anything that moved with the twins’ air rifle. I’d drop into bed at night and wake up with enthusiasm. I never thought life could be like that.

  A few months later, I also received an envelope through the post from Mrs Gill, the warden from the children’s home. It was simply titled; A love letter, from Martha and Arthur. I didn't hear about any prosecution against them and can only assume they exposed Donna’s lies. I suspect they shouldn’t have been writing to me, but Mrs Gill had her own rules.

  It read, ‘Dear Katie,’ and then there were twenty short paragraphs with a dated heading of where we’d been.

  ‘The Park. Sunday 4th April. Katie went on the swing and demanded an ice cream. She had a traffic light lolly but didn’t like it and ate Arthur’s cone instead. Arthur’s tongue turned blue after finishing the lolly.

  McDonald’s. Saturday 10th April. Katie had a happy meal with Chicken Nuggets. We all laughed when she said, ‘Imagine if they made them using real chickens.’

  And so on, with three words at the end; ‘You were loved.’

  I didn’t understand it to start with. They wrote of fond times and just normal days out. I still put the envelope under my pillow. As the weeks passed, I read it more often. After two months, I finally got it. They had
given me my identity. One role of a family is to remind you of the past. It’s how we see where we fitted into the world. If you’re always on the move, you lose track of who you are. I knew from that note I was loved without condition, even if only for a short while. It became priceless to me.

  37

  June

  The Job Offer

  I received a call a week later from Irina, which was unusual for her as she usually texted. She informed me that Radic wanted a chat. I also got a text from Gregor. We’d had a couple of drinks and a fumble the previous weekend. He didn’t push for more. I think he was more tired than I was. Funny how you make judgements. I imagined him to be a meathead. Instead, he told me he’s doing an IT course in Huntingdon and his doorman job just pays the bills.

  I’m not sure if his posh English left me doubting the truth, or perhaps, like many things in Radic’s world, he is a mixture of light and dark. I don’t even know how old Gregor is. He said he’d pick me up from the station, so at least he’s old enough to drive.

  When I step onto the platform in Peterborough, I am a different person. The last time I came home on the train, I saw a girl with a fabulous tattoo on her neck. I asked her where she had it done. That’s strange and wonderful to consider. How far have I come when I can approach a stranger and start a conversation which lasts an entire journey?

  Maybe things work out for a reason. I found the parlour in Ely. The second design I saw was exactly what I wanted, and they started on it the following day. Now my right leg, from knee to ankle, has a tattoo of a clock in a bed of flowers. I’m unclear as to why that spoke to me. Perhaps it’s all that time in the dark. In prison we are grey; the walls, the bars, our lives and our faces. Out here, I want to shine.

  I love it. It is armour to face the world. I stride out the entrance of the railway station without a care. A short denim skirt and a vest top are all that’s needed with the sunshine. I feel invincible and attractive, and the admiring glances I receive confirm that. I can see Gregor waving in the distance because he is a head taller than everyone else.

  There’s a gap in the traffic, so I step into the road. I’ve only got three-inch heels on but even these feel weird. There’s so much to remember. Heel first, shoulders back, invisible line, and the one I forget; short steps. I trip into Gregor’s arms. Very cool, although he doesn’t seem to mind. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to them, but they do wonders for my confidence. Well, when I’m standing still they do.

  Gregor opens the back door to a Range Rover. I slide into a luxurious seat and receive a hug from Irina next to me. Radic is in the front passenger seat. He smiles as Gregor gets in. Radic looks the most excited I’ve seen him.

  ‘I’m taking you for a meal to my favourite restaurant. The food and drink are my treat, whatever you decide, as I have a proposition for you. I hope you’re hungry.’

  I’m not but it doesn’t matter. I expected the offer after the conversation with Irina. His wife had been singing my praises. It’s nice to have friends meet me at the station, too. I recall how frightening it was when I first got out and had to walk alone.

  I marvel at the opulence of the car and wonder what sort of person could afford such a vehicle. Gregor drives onto the parkway and we soon heading to our destination in Alwalton. Even though I don’t fancy a big meal, I like the idea of a glass of chilled white wine and more calamari like we enjoyed at the Greek place Irina first took me to. I hope I’m not becoming a snob. I should know better with Radic involved.

  The site of The Plough jogs a memory loose. It’s a chain pub where they cover the food in salt, whack it in the deep-fat fryer, and then pile it high. Definitely no squid. It’s cheap, and one of the few places I ate out at as a child. Ted’s birthday was the reason for that occasion. Radic is like a kid and hustles us through the door.

  I catch up with Irina while the boys attack the salad bar, which I recall is free with all main meals. We sip our Chardonnays in unison and are both pleasantly surprised.

  ‘How’s things, Irina?’

  ‘You know, the same. Sometimes I sleep, sometimes I don’t. It’s lovely to see you again. Are you excited to hear Radic’s proposal?’

  ‘Of course.’

  She looks tired. I think about what she’s been through and can’t blame her. The past dislikes being ignored. Her son will haunt her dreams for the rest of her life. I can relate to that.

  Radic takes his time. The teenager responsible for keeping the salad cart topped up is run off his feet as Gregor and Radic are relentless. It isn’t until they’ve worked through their main courses of huge rib stacks that Radic remembers the purpose of our visit.

  He reclines in his seat like a lion after a particularly tasty gazelle. Gregor goes back for more bread.

  ‘We would like you to come and work for us. We pay good money, cash in hand. Same job as Irina and Oksana. You help keep the club running smoothly from Friday to Monday. Manage your time yourselves. There’s a spare room at Oksana’s for you to sleep or use Irina’s sofa. We will see how you get on and, if you want more hours, that won’t be a problem as the bar downstairs is always short-staffed.’

  There’s no surprise in what he’s said. It’s fabulous to be offered a job like that. My packing shift doesn’t finish until ten on a Friday night though.

  ‘What’s the money?’

  ‘£300 per week with bonuses for extra duties.’

  ‘Pole dancing?’

  ‘Staying late.’

  It’s much more than I get paid for stuffing envelopes. I could earn more money in three nights than I can in five at the draughty warehouse.

  ‘I’ll think about it. When would you want me to start?’

  ‘When you like, tomorrow maybe. Oksana has worked all week.’ He casts a disapproving eye over at Irina, who nudges her uneaten chicken around the plate.

  * * *

  I’m staying at Irina’s tonight but she has to work. Gregor said he’ll take me out for dinner, but I had enough at lunch. I decide to dress well and have a drink, nothing more. Town has no appeal, so I ask him to drive me to a nice hotel. We settle for The Moat House, which they turned into a Holiday Inn while I was away. It’s still quiet which is what I want.

  We share a bottle of expensive red wine that he insists on buying. He can’t take his eyes off me. I have a green dress on with a slit up the side. It displays my new tattoo. His aren’t the only admiring looks. I catch sight of myself in a mirror and have to agree with Irina. Tattoo aside, my legs are as white as lard.

  Gregor has little to say for himself. I don’t suppose I have, either. I do nothing exciting or different during the week, and he was there when I received my good news. He talks about his course. I keep him chatting with frequent nods and comments, but I’m not listening.

  I know I’ll take the job. Everyone there did. I’ll give my notice on Monday. I won’t tell Thorn. He need not know. As long as he gets my signature each week, he shouldn’t find out. I will be two people. That shouldn’t be difficult. The life in Cambridge, though, is something I want to leave behind.

  If I disappear, I’ll need to plan. How hard would they look for me? The movies call it living off the grid. That all sounds lovely, but what happens if I have an accident or, heaven-forbid, I get pregnant? I need new ID. I’d prefer an English passport. I don’t have the money for that; Irina told me how much they cost. Would Radic help me get one? What would I need to do for his assistance?

  I chuckle at Gregor as he finishes his drink. The wine glass looks ridiculous in his meaty paw. There’s no sexual spark though. I wonder if prison doused my natural urges. Although I'd been keen on Jan, I didn't seem to be able to relax in his company. There can only be one way to find out.

  ‘Shall we go back to yours?’

  ‘Sorry. I start work in a bit and haven’t got time.’

  He gives me the same sleepy expression he always does. It’s for the best. I’m still not sure what I’m about to get involved in, so I have enough to focus on
without romantic entanglements. However, I feel alive in this environment. I worry they play a dangerous game, but I will take a hand.

  38

  Cambridge Library

  I run two lives now. When I’m in Cambridge, I am a beaten-down ex-convict. I wear no make-up, or perhaps just a touch of lipstick and a brush of eyeliner. My clothes are sporty or practical. You’ll find me in jeans and a T-shirt, or maybe jogging gear. The past still haunts me here. I try to keep the memories away, but they know where I sleep and visit at night.

  I step from the library and shove the four new books in my backpack. These days, I fill it with bottles of water when I go running. My mind whirs in bed and, unless I’m exhausted, rest is elusive. It’s my last shift tonight at the warehouse. I wonder if anyone will say anything. It isn’t the sort of place for people gathering around and singing for she’s a jolly good fellow.

  The man with whom I collide is considerably taller than me. The weight on my back causes me to sit down with a bump. We recognise each other at the same time.

  ‘Katie, is that you?’

  ‘Bill?’

  ‘Yeah. Wow, I never expected to meet you again.’

  I struggle to breathe, never mind speak. My hands and feet feel numb. He puts his hand under my armpit and lifts me up as though I’m a small child.

  ‘It’s good to see you. You look great. It must be seventeen years ago. You’ve hardly changed.’ He steps back and smiles. ‘You well?’

  My brain recovers from the shock and then my tongue does. ‘You what? That’s it? That’s all you have to say after what happened?’

  I stare at him as he shakes his head. The years haven’t taken their toll on him. His suit fits nicely, and he still has good hair. His expression is of genuine remorse.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Katie. Please, there’s a Costa Coffee over there. Give me five minutes.’

  I stumble across the road. The place is almost empty being mid-morning, and I wait in a booth. The time it takes for them to prepare the drinks gives me space to think of the past. I’ve pushed those memories away so often it’s hard to connect completely to them. I struggle to recall how it happened. His placing a beautiful-looking latte in front of me adds to my confusion.