I thought I wanted to find a quiet job and be normal. Live a simple life with no drama. I now believe that won’t be enough. I only have a bra and pants on, and I catch myself in the mirror. My finished back tattoo looks incredible. I accepted my need for them, yet I know I won’t get more. They are not just a disguise because the image is me. Both sides. Are the demon and angel fighting or making love? Who wins, or is it the balance between good and evil? When my wings unfurl and spread, will they be feathery white or leathery black?
I have two calls to make.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Tommy. It’s Katie.’
‘Hey, I’m pleased you called. How are you?’
‘Fine. Look, I wondered if I could crash at yours for a few days. It won’t be for long. I’ve money saved, I just need to get my head together in a quiet spot.’
Tommy replies in an instant. I am so glad there wasn’t a nasty pause. ‘Of course. When do you want to come?’
‘Tomorrow okay?’
‘No problem. What time?’
‘Will you meet me somewhere first at midday? I’ll have my things with me.’
‘Very mysterious. I like it. Where?’
‘A place where only we know. Do you remember?’
Again, no break in thinking. ‘I’ll be there, assuming it’s not a housing estate by now.’
‘And Tommy. If I don’t come, then don’t worry. I’m fine, but I’ll be gone. Forget about me. Live your life.’
This time there is a few seconds of silence.
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Nothing much, just trust me, please.’
‘We’ll catch up tomorrow, Katie.’
The second call will be shorter. I wonder if he’ll pick up. Shady people in power like him have few fears, and he answers straight away.
‘Yes.’
‘Bill, it’s me.’
‘Ah, Katie. I was wondering where you’d got to.’
I knew it. There was no chance he would let me be.
‘I want to meet. I have most of the truth, but I need the rest. When I know what happened, I’ll understand who I was. That’s the only way I have a future.’
‘Where and when?’
‘The old barn. Eight o’clock tonight.’
There’s a long pause. I almost hear his mind whirring down the phone.
‘Agreed. But we both come alone.’
‘See you later,’ I say with a breeziness I don’t feel.
Events are in motion, and I have one last thing to do. I need to go into town to buy some rope.
65
The Barn
It’s a dark night. Heavy rain lashes my face and vehicles splash puddles over my leggings. I wish I was wearing more substantial clothes. Luckily, Oksana’s bike has lights, or I’d have to walk. There’s no pleasure in the ride this time. My heart is burdened with a sense of doom. I must hear the truth from Bill even if it’s terrible. The knife in my coat pocket is reassuring. I hope he will come alone, but I can’t believe his intentions are noble.
I’m soaked through when I arrive at our old house. The lights are off and the drive is empty. The track is muddy and unfit for cycling, so I hop off and walk. At two hundred metres away, I notice the barn is lit up in the gloom. It’s a flickering light which means there’s a fire.
Sure enough, when I get to the entrance and push the remains of the door open, I’m greeted by a large oil canister blazing unnaturally and the stench of petrol. Of Bill, no sign. My coat is sodden. I am lucky it’s not a cold night, or I’d develop pneumonia. After some hunting in the dark and shadowy edges, I find a rusty picnic chair. I wrap my coat around it and place them close to the heat.
The flames are calmer. Big pieces of wood in the canister give off a more natural blaze. The accelerant used has burned off. Bill did this. He must have been watching when I arrived. But where is he now? I’ll warm up first and worry about that when necessary. It will be a horrendous cycle home without dry clothes.
Twenty minutes later, I’ve turned my coat over to toast the other side and my hands are back to their normal temperature. I still don’t have company. I start when my phone rings. I’m expecting Bill’s number to show but Tommy’s name flashes up. I contemplate whether to reject the call. I must answer because it might be important.
‘Hi, Tommy. What’s up?’
‘Hiya. Look, sorry for ringing, but I got hold of my mate who knew Bill Ivy. I decided I’d better ring you. It’s what I thought. There were rumours about him faking evidence. Things went missing from crime scenes. That sort of thing. My pal reckons two girls, admittedly prostitutes, said he raped them. Other women vanished. He’s bad, Katie, as dirty as they come.’
‘Ok, Tommy. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for ringing, you may have saved my life.’
I jump again when Bill’s voice echoes from above me. I forgot the loft in the far corner.
‘Who’s Tommy?’
‘Just a friend.’
‘Someone I need to get to know?’
‘No. He’s had enough bad luck.’
Bill slowly walks down the steps. He’s a brave man because it was unsafe up there twenty years ago. He stands on the opposite side of the fire and seems enormous. A padded jacket magnifies his size, and I feel minuscule in comparison.
‘What did he say to you?’
‘None of your business. Personal stuff.’
‘Can’t have been good news. You were relaxed before you spoke to him.’
‘We’re here to discuss the past not the present.’
‘Right you are. Ask your questions.’
‘Do you regret what you did that night?’
‘Of course. It was a bit of fun that got out of hand. I wish it never happened for all of our sakes.’
‘Too much drink?’
‘Yes, we did enjoy doing stupid things.’
His tone is cautious and phrases are chosen with care. I detect him edging around the canister getting closer to me.
‘Like drugs?’
That stops him in his tracks. ‘The others told you about that.’
‘Correct. They said it was your idea.’
‘Well, they would, wouldn’t they? Who’d want to admit to that?’
‘I don’t hear an apology or see any genuine remorse.’
He leers through the flames. His chuckle is cold. His words are ice. ‘There’s no apology because there’s no regret. Get over yourself. It was a laugh, nothing more.’
‘I think you planned the whole thing.’
‘You do? We could ask the others if that’s true. Oh no, that won’t be possible. It appears they’re dead or scared shitless. Shortly after receiving a visit from you.’ He grins wide at my shocked face. ‘Yes. An old fisherman recalled an attractive woman looking for Simon. He heard he had a lucky escape from a cracked skull.
‘Anne from the care home told me someone with a blonde ponytail was there before Justin died. Jordan admitted the truth after some gentle persuasion. Said you almost killed him although he strangely told me to leave you alone. He will need to be silenced. His wife was a nice girl, I must pop back and see them both some time.’
‘You piece of filth.’
‘That’s not all. Even your probation worker came to a nasty end. Let’s not forget Ted either. Did the prison train you up to be the next Grim Reaper? You’re awfully good at it. Or did you lie in your cell and plan your revenge?’
‘I had to give up my baby.’
‘Oh, I heard about that when I returned. Did it look like me?’
‘It was Jordan’s.’
‘That’s a shame.’
‘Surely, your three kids are enough?’
‘True. Quite true.’
He moves again and is close now. I smell his aftershave.
‘Although you said before you had four kids.’
The anger on his face seals my fate.
‘Three children, four. Who’s counting? It’s easy to lose a kid here or there. Of c
ourse, you understand that.’
The bastard. I’ll have one chance with Tony’s gift. Bill is taller and stronger than I am. If I fail, he’ll kill me. I recall Jordan’s warning about people going missing out here. Desperation adds strength and speed to my lunge. The flick-knife is out of my pocket in a blur.
He doesn’t move. His eyes drop to the movement. The blade strikes out, and I plunge it under his ribs and towards his heart.
The juddering stop of its progress almost causes me to lose my grip. It’s as though I’ve tried to stab a book. His hand comes from behind him brandishing a short baton. A twist has it extended and bearing down on my wrist. All I can do is slacken my arm. The pain is immense and the knife clatters away.
I stagger back, numb to the shoulder.
‘For dark nights such as this, I wear special clothes. My favourite is a stab vest.’ He walks towards me, twirling the baton. ‘I was up in the loft to check you came alone. Watching you brought feelings to the surface that I’d long forgotten. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do until I saw your face after that phone call. What did he say to you?’
‘That you are a rapist of women. The worst kind of man alive. You disgust me. You will rot in hell, and I planned to send you there.’
‘Nice speech, but it doesn’t matter. You were right. It’s time to close the circle. I always worried you’d tell someone. Soon, there’ll only be one person left who was here that evening, and I won’t talk.’
His arm shoots out and grabs me by the throat. I try to knee him in the groin but he is too far away. His strength is overbearing.
‘How about a quickie, for old time’s sake?’
He pushes me over the tyres, just like before. There’s nobody to hold my arms this time, but he’s so powerful, it’s unnecessary. I hear his belt release and, while a hand crushes my neck, he yanks up my T-shirt so my back is exposed.
‘I enjoy seeing what I’m doing.’
Those words; “I enjoy seeing what I’m doing.” That night resurrects itself from my memory in a flash. I recall them all in glorious detail as they took their turn. There’s Jordan’s face, full of laughter. Simon’s expression was eager love. Justin’s red eyes and flowing tears, followed by Bill’s bare-teethed snarl of violent lust.
He chuckles. ‘Great tattoo.’
I feel hardness searching for entry.
His breath behind me is ragged, just as it was that day. Jordan, Simon and Justin were finished in seconds. Bill took his time. He was the one who slapped me.
He yanks my pants down to my knees and pushes them to the floor with his foot, as he did back then. He kicks my feet apart. I recall the women in the prison saying it was better to relax and not fight. You couldn’t win, and that way it hurt less. I heed their advice as he begins.
Then, for the second time in my life, I’m raped in a rotting barn with firelight and four men. The years collapse. Yet, the men are not the same youths of the past. The sound of a heavy gun being loaded causes Bill’s body to tense. Apart from the hard part, and that slips out of me. He releases my shoulders. I turn and am greeted by the sight of Tony and his two quiet friends from the club. One has a large shotgun levelled at us.
I know men such as these because I entered their world. Not evil, but uncaring. Life, and their experience of it, has removed their emotions. They have no part in how they survive. As a police officer, Bill will have met their type before. He comprehends there will be no mercy or pity. Doomed, he looks at me. I step to the side, twist, and ram the heel of my hand, just like Mai taught me, under his chin and knock him off his feet.
The men are on him. In a few seconds, he kneels with his arms held behind his back. Tony stands next to him and grabs his hair. He holds his head so Bill’s desperate eyes search mine.
‘We will take care of him for you,’ Tony says. ‘Unless you wish to watch?’
I shake my head. ‘And the body?’
Tony replies without feeling. ‘No body.’
I pull my clothes up with a sniff. I recover my now dry coat and put it on. A guttural voice barks orders and duct tape unwinds. With no backward glance, I stagger from the barn. The rain has stopped, and the moon is out. Seconds pass as I collect my thoughts. Do rapists ever deserve forgiveness?
I walk down the track, and a bird swoops overhead. Its screams shatter the silence. I look above to recognise its sorrow but, other than a white plastic bag caught by the wind, the sky is empty. Another pained screech is heard, and it’s human, and I know I have to return.
Bill is taped into the rusty chair. Tony towers over him, wielding a bloody saw. Those beside him acknowledge my presence. These are grim men. Men who drink alone. Laughter has left their lives. They do what they’re told without question. They are fit for little else.
I wander over and reclaim my knife from the floor. My thumb touches the razor-sharp blade. I show it to Bill’s wide eyes. He squeezes them shut. I step towards Tony and hand him the weapon.
Bill’s eyes open and there’s a flicker of hope. How has my life come to a scene like this? I open my mouth to say, ‘Let him go,’ but don’t. He would have killed me tonight and others in the future.
‘Goodbye, Tony. You’ll never see me again. Burn the barn.’
I stare at Bill’s beseeching expression, but even now I can see rage and vengeance in the creases of his face. I’d never be free of this devil.
‘Goodbye, Bill.’
66
Sunday Midday
Tommy
Tommy chooses to walk to meet Katie. The blue sky is patched with huge, billowing, white clouds. He has much to ponder in the fresh air. The past few years have been better for him, but the previous ten before that were a blur of petty crime and substance abuse. Prison was inevitable, and he considers himself lucky. Most of those he hung around with back then are inside on long stretches or have returned to dust.
Tommy is bright enough to understand that his upbringing led to his lack of self-esteem. You don’t need to be a genius to realise many who struggle in life feel abandoned. Tommy sometimes wanted to know who his real mum and dad were but never followed it through. There wouldn’t be gold at the end of that search. Betraying his adoptive parents wasn’t high on his list of priorities, either.
Stepping over the stile to enter Thorpe Hall grounds, he recognises the big building in the distance. This is the first time he’s been back since he left. With twenty minutes to spare, he wanders up to the trees where they used to play. The sycamores and horse chestnuts are smaller than in his dreams. Even the mansion no longer resembles the haunted house of his youth — Katie and Tommy’s youth.
Why didn’t he look for her before? Was it guilt after he’d left it so long? A half-hearted web search failed to reveal her whereabouts when he once checked. That wasn’t surprising after the sentence she received. The internet was in its infancy when she was sent down.
It was hard to think of her killing someone. However, Katie always possessed a core of strength. There’d be a tilt of her chin to let you know you’d gone far enough. She would only take so much.
Sleep had been elusive since he’d seen her again. Thoughts of anything but Katie had been rare, especially after he heard the news about the corrupt policeman. Even though they’d only had two drinks together over a few hours, she still had the same effect on him. He didn’t want to leave her. He’d forgive her one act of madness seventeen years ago.
Beneath that heavy make-up and dyed hair, under that toned body and shocking tattoos, she remained his little friend, and the only person who made him stop thinking. With her, life just happened. Nothing scared him except the chance of them being separated.
He glances down at a squelch and curls his lip. It seems they still keep cows in the field. Big ones, by the looks of it. He scuffs his way downhill to the small wood on the edge of where they hid. The one which shielded them from prying eyes.
A splash of rain raises his scowl to the now dark-grey clouds. He regrets wearing shorts and a T
-shirt. When he enters the cover of the wood, the trees are thicker than he recalls. The barbed wire fence, a few metres in, looks more lethal, but his job keeps him fit and he vaults over it. Branches and memories tear at him as he slips down the bank.
Tommy follows the stream. He’s keen to see her. He often thinks of his childhood and she appears in most of his happy recollections. Katie, the serious girl with caramel hair. A squall of rain ruffles the canopy above and a sense of foreboding settles upon him. The leaves whisper that he is too late. When the trees clear, a wall of nettles faces him. They’ve been pushed through and resettled as some are broken. He rues his choice of clothing for the second time.
A nearby big stick will do; he’ll scythe his way through. Their tree is beyond the undergrowth. He notices the rope hanging down from a thick branch. With his hearing straining, he ceases swinging his arms. The creaking sound indicates displeasure at holding a heavy load. It swings as though it’s a dead weight. Tommy throws the wood in front of him and charges through the stinging barrier.
There she is. Silent, beautiful, staring. He laughs, well, it’s more a cry, when he sees a second rope dangling next to the other one. She finally got the swing she wanted. Katie waves and slides along the thick branch she’s using as a seat. She wobbles. She won’t be getting him on that thing.
67
The Future
Tommy breaks through the nettles like a mad person. I can’t help laughing when I see he wore shorts. I wave and my stomach flips as I nearly fall. Building this swing today finished off my youth. We always wanted one. I’m not sure Screwfix was open back then, but surely it wouldn’t have been too hard to get our hands on some rope.
Tommy kind of collapses and laughs at the same time. It’s as though he’s relieved. That’s how I feel. He walks along the side of the lake towards me and it’s as if the final piece of missing jigsaw has turned up and slides into place.
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