by David Haynes
“And I want to come back to you, Lou. More than anything in the world I want to come back to you. I’ve spoken to Joe about half-term and you should’ve seen the look on his face.” He could feel his own expression changing. “It made his year. Come to Cornwall, Lou. Bring Ollie and let’s forget this year ever happened. We can do it. I can do it.”
“I’m not going to rush into it. You’ve got to be honest with me and when we talk you have to tell me everything. You need to open up and let it all out. I’m here for you, I’ve always been here for you but you won’t allow me to help. I won’t see Ollie like he was after the party. I won’t, Chris. I won’t do it.”
Thinking about that was almost too much. Ollie standing there reciting the book they had both loved when he was a toddler should have been framed in a glorious, golden light inside his head, on centre stage. Instead it was tainted by what had happened. He’d shoved it to the back of his mind, along with the things he didn’t want to think about. She was in there too, but she was barging her way to the front and he couldn’t stop her. Neither, it seemed, could Pat.
“And you’re right. He comes first in all of this, he comes first. I’ve got a bit of a plan about these nightmares and don’t shoot me down straight away. Okay?”
He heard her sigh. “I’ll listen to anything if it means I can get a few hours sleep. It’s like when he was a baby again. Can you remember that? We didn’t get any sleep for two years. It feels like that again, but worse.”
“Okay, well how about this? He has your mobile through the night and if he gets scared or has a nightmare, he just calls me. Put it on speed-dial or whatever you call it now.” He was useless with his phone. He knew how to text and how to make calls, other than that, all the icons were just garish coloured squares on the screen.
“You speak to him about it first though. I don’t want him messing about with it.”
He thought it was a good idea but he hadn’t expected Lou to go for it straight away. “Of course I will. Is he there? I know it’s not bedtime yet but I’ll need to go with Joe and look after him.” That was a lie but he didn’t need to tell Lou the full story.
“I’ll fetch him.” There was a pause and then a muffled call for Ollie.
“He’s on his way.”
“Lou? I love you.”
“I love you, Chris. Just get better. Here he is.”
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hey big man. How was school?”
“Alright.” When it came to school, Ollie was a man of few words.
“Have you done your homework?”
“Dad? You know on Minecraft, I’ve built this really, really high tower and at the top I’ve built a lookout so we can see if any creepers come so we can shoot them with the bow and arrow. It’s on the world we created. I’ll show you when you come home.”
The question about homework was as unimportant as was the question about school.
“Sounds good to me. I just want to have a quick chat about tonight and then you can carry on with Minecraft, okay?” There was silence on the other end.
“Ollie, it’s important and you might like it?”
“Okayyyyyy.”
“What if you had Mum’s phone tonight?”
“What? All night?” He sounded excited now.
“Yes, all night. But you can only use it if you get scared or you’ve had a bad dream. Then, instead of waking Mum up, you just phone me? It doesn’t matter what time it is or if you’re just a little bit scared. You just press the button and I’ll be listening. How does that sound?”
“It sounds good. I bet I can get YouTube on Mum’s phone, I can watch...”
“No, Ollie, you can’t get YouTube on Mum’s phone...”
“You can.” It was Ollie’s turn to interrupt. “You can get it on yours too. I watched a whole episode of Scooby-Doo on there once. It was small but I could still see everything.”
Ollie wanted to talk about anything except bedtime and bad dreams, which was perfectly understandable.
“Have we got a plan then?”
“Yep, I’ll phone you when I get scared. But Dad?”
“Yes, Ollie.” He was expecting some more comments about Minecraft or YouTube.
“What do I do if I need a cuddle?”
Chris bit his lip hard. Hard enough to draw blood. “Well, then you’ll just have to go and climb into bed with Mum and wrap your arms around her. Keep my spot nice and warm, eh?”
“Okay, Dad. I’m excited about coming to see Lollipop.”
“He is too! He said it would make his year.”
“I can’t wait.” He was onto the next thing already but that was good. It was normal Ollie.
“I’ve got to go now but remember what we talked about. Yes?”
“I’ll phone you if I’m scared.”
“That’s it. I’ll see you soon, okay big man? I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Then was the sound of muffled voices and the phone went dead. Ollie knew how to use the phone better than he did but Lou would make sure the phone was ready to call him in the night.
He took a deep breath. He couldn’t actually be with Ollie but the phone was the next best thing. It was a poor substitute but at least it was something.
“Are you ready?” Joe’s voice called up to him.
He opened the bedroom door and walked down the stairs. “We’ll drive up and leave the car there. I’ll pick it up in the morning.”
“Whatever you say.” Joe was already halfway out of the house. There were another two empty bottles of beer on the table. Was it possible, or even safe, for a man of Joe’s age to drink so much? Chris wasn’t sure but he certainly wasn’t going to ask those questions.
*
The Queen’s Head never seemed to be full. It was always busy but because there were various rooms, it never felt overloaded. In the summer months, people sometimes had to wait a few minutes before they were served but that was about as bad as things got. Mostly, it was a comfortable place to go and have a quiet drink. If someone from the village had died, it was a different matter. Then it was packed to the rafters. Tonight was a night during which Susie Curnow would need not just one extra pair of hands but several.
As Chris parked the car and turned off the engine, the sound of a gathered crowd rumbled out of the pub and into the car.
“There’s a few in tonight.” Joe climbed out of the car.
There were people standing outside the pub smoking and as they passed, each of them shook Joe’s hand and patted him on the back. Chris had never seen any of them before but they shook his hand too.
The pub might have been packed and the noise loud, but it wasn’t a happy sound. There was no laughter mixed in with the usual hum of chatter. It was low-pitched and hollow, and when Joe came in, it went down to another level.
He marched straight over to the bar where Susie was waiting. His gleaming shoes made a metallic clicking sound with each step. She opened her mouth to speak but Joe silenced her with a wave of his hand.
“Say what you want in a minute, lovely, but right now, me and my lad here want two pints of Tribute.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a fold of notes. Chris couldn’t see how much was there but it was a thick fold.
“And when we’ve done with the first two we’ll need some more please. And if there’s enough left over when I’ve had enough, I’d like everyone to wish my other lad, Patrick Bailey, a safe trip to the next place with a glass in their hands. And I’d like to buy you one too. In fact I’d like you to keep yourself in drinks all night.”
Susie took Joe’s money and put it in a tin behind the bar. “I’ll keep it safe here.” She pulled them two pints and before the glass had landed on the wooden bar-top, Joe had it in his hand.
“This one’s just between you and me, son. Here’s to Pat.”
Chris took his glass and knocked it against Joe’s. “Pat.” They both took a drink and smiled at each other.
It wasn’t long before some
one had pulled a stool up at the bar for Joe. He had pulling power anyway but today it was magnified a hundred times and it wasn’t just his offer of free beer either. The whole village knew Joe and he knew everyone who lived there. This made them as close as family. Not that they were all friends, being part of a family doesn’t make you friends, but they knew each other’s business. They all knew Pat and they all knew what role Joe had played in Pat’s life.
He nodded and smiled. He hugged and he bit his lip to stop the tears flowing. He even made several mini-speeches and toasts, but through it all he drank. He drank like a man who hadn’t tasted beer for a hundred years.
Chris tried his best to keep up with him. and for the most part he did. He even put another fifty pounds behind the bar. But Joe had asked Chris to do a job for him and he wanted to stay in control.
He left Joe for a short time and went to the toilet but as he walked back toward the bar, he could hear Joe’s voice raised above the chatter.
“Well, he didn’t much care for you either, Dave, so I think I’ll have that back off you.”
As Chris reached the bar, Joe was trying to take a pint out of someone’s hand. The other man didn’t want to let go.
Joe hadn’t stood up for three hours, not even to empty his bladder, but he got to his feet now and was as steady as a rock.
“David Tallack, you are going to give me that back or I am going to knock you on your arse.” Joe put his own pint down on the bar.
Chris didn’t feel too steady on his feet, less steady than Joe appeared to be anyway, but he knew this wasn’t an idle threat. Joe’s words echoed in his ears. “I’ll need you to protect them from me.”
He looked at the other man, who was closer to his age than Joe’s. The last thing anyone wanted was for this to turn into a brawl but Joe wouldn’t back down, he knew that for sure.
Chris intervened, smiled at Tallack. “Just give it him back, it’s not the right time to be arguing about...”
“And who are you?” Tallack cut him off.
“He’s my lad, that’s who he is.” Joe still had hold of Tallack’s pint.
Tallack looked Chris up and down and turned back to Joe. “That ain’t your lad. Your lad topped himself down at Hawk’s Cove, just like Bailey.”
Chris wasn’t holding onto a pint, he wasn’t holding anything in his hand except for a ball of rage. He closed his fingers around it and punched David Tallack in the face as hard as he could. He wasn’t aiming for any particular part but the explosion of blood and the crunch of bone told him he’d hit the nose. There was nothing now, not the sound of talking or of glasses chinking behind the bar, just the roar of blood in his ears. Just the sound of rage.
Tallack fell back. If it weren’t for the number of people standing behind him, he would have fallen over.
Chris stepped forward and drew back his fist. This time he took deliberate aim and hit him in the eye. Tallack went back again but the crowd had parted and he fell against the bar.
“My dad...” Chris drew back his fist and punched him in the other eye. He felt a bone give. Whether it was Tallack’s eye socket or part of his own fist, he didn’t really care.
“Did not...” He hit his eye again. Tallack didn’t raise his hands to defend himself and in the back of Chris’s head someone was shouting, “Stop, stop, stop!”
“Top himself!” He took Tallack by his collar and looked into his eyes. The man stared back at him, he was senseless.
Chris felt his own collar being tugged and then his arms being pulled back. He expected someone to start on him, maybe one of Tallack’s mates, but he was just pulled backwards away from Tallack.
“Drink this and then it’s time you were off.” Someone tried to put a glass in his right hand but he couldn’t bend his fingers. They pushed it into his left hand instead.
He looked down at it and then looked around the room. That brief moment of madness was already turning into a dream. Joe was sitting back on his stool, calmly finishing his pint. There was no crowd around him now and people were filing quickly out of the pub.
He turned to whoever it was had pushed the drink into his hand. It was Susie. “I... er...”
“Don’t fret, Chris. We’ll sort it.” She smiled at him and walked over to Tallack who was standing with two other members of staff. They were pushing red paper napkins onto his face.
“Come on then, boy. Time we were off.” Joe stood up and stretched his back. “I’ve had my fill.”
Chris downed the drink. The brandy wasn’t the finest Cognac, that was for sure, but it brought him back round. He looked at Tallack again. He should apologise to the man. He hadn’t punched anyone since school and now he’d done it to two different men in less than twenty-four hours. It had felt good though, hadn’t it? Not last night with Pat, that was different, but hitting Tallack felt like he’d let something out that needed to be released. Oh, it had felt good. Very, very good.
“Don’t worry, Joe. We’ll take care of this.” Susie dabbed a napkin at Tallack’s nose and turned around.
Joe reached into his pocket and pulled out only the cotton liner. He shrugged. “And I’m much obliged to you.”
Chris walked over to the bar and put his last twenty pound note down. He avoided the congealing blood.
Joe patted him on the shoulder as they walked outside. “Feels better, doesn’t it?”
Chris took a deep breath of the cool night air. “What, getting pissed, or belting someone?” He wanted to vomit.
“You didn’t just belt him, you collided with him. That’s what you needed. You’re angry, Christopher, you’re very angry and you’ve every right to be. Just like me. Watching you do that to him was... it was therapeutic.” He took a deep breath and started walking across the square. “We better get moving before it starts raining again.”
Chris watched him for a moment. Joe was right, he was angry and Tallack had taken that anger with full force.
“Hold up!” he called after him. His legs felt like jelly again and the skin on his fist felt like it didn’t fit properly anymore. The alcohol was numbing the pain but he couldn’t bring himself to look at it. That would come in the morning when his head would hurt just as much. He set off after Joe.
It wasn’t long before they were walking in complete darkness. They wobbled along the lane together, listening to the sound of the wind blowing through the hedgerow and the occasional scurry of a small animal running for its life in the undergrowth. There was no moon but Joe had walked this lane every day for years, he didn’t need any lights to guide him home.
“You saved me a job,” he said after a while.
“A job?”
“Sorting that Tallack idiot out. If you hadn’t got him first, I was ready.” Joe shook his fist. Over ninety or not, Chris wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of a punch from him.
“Well, he got what he was asking for.” Chris tried to clench his fist and winced. “I went too far though, I didn’t want to...”
“You wanted to kill him, just like I wanted to kill Jimmy Upson. Sometimes the human spirit needs to escape. You can’t keep it locked up inside this bag of bones forever, you know. Sometimes it needs to come rushing out and belt the living daylights out of someone. Someone like Tallack or Upson. I got the pint back too. The bugger weren’t having that.”
Chris sniggered and then Joe started too. They both stopped walking and laughed like a pair of idiots. Joe was bent over clutching his knees.
“I need to piss,” Joe said and tottered over to the hedge.
Chris exhaled and tasted the nutty beer fumes again. His head wasn’t just going to hurt in the morning, it was going to pound.
“I could do with one too.” He walked over to the hedge and stood a few paces away from Joe.
“When Jack used to come to the pub with me, we used to have a little competition on the way back.”
“What was that?” Chris asked.
“Who could hold it the longest. Not once did either of us make
it all the way home but your dad made it all the way to Jenner’s place once. You should’ve seen the way he was walking.”
Joe started laughing again. Jenner owned the first house on the row of terraces Joe lived on. Two miles with a full bladder was good going.
“Mostly though,” Joe continued, “we’d stop about here and siphon it off.” Joe zipped his trousers back up and pointed down the lane, into the darkness. “Course, we’d have to stop again, down there, and then further down the...” He stopped, frozen in mid-comment, with his finger pointing into the blackness.
“Granddad?” Chris buttoned up.
Joe moved his hand slowly toward his cap. He raised the brim and nodded. It was the same gesture as he’d made at the cemetery.
“Granddad? Who are you looking at it?” Chris felt his heart rate go up a notch. He followed Joe’s gaze but there was nothing, nothing except the silhouette of a tree.
“Looks like she’s come out for a stroll tonight. Not seen her down here before.”
“Lizzy?” He moved closer to Joe who was still staring toward the tree. His frown was noticeable even in the darkness.
“Wonder what brings her down here?” Joe’s voice was little more than a whisper.
“I can’t see anything, just the tree.”
“Well maybe you’re not looking in the right place. She’s there alright and she doesn’t look happy.”
“Maybe it’s because we drank too much?”
“Maybe.” Joe tipped his hat again. “Night, gal.” He started walking again.
Chris squinted into the darkness for a second and looked away quickly. Lizzy might be there somewhere in the gloom but other things lurked in there too; things with eyes that had nothing but death and despair in their blackened voids.
“We better get a march on, it’s going to rain in a minute.” Joe was already walking quickly but he upped his pace a little more.
Chris couldn’t feel any rain on his face but he didn’t want to disagree with Joe. His mood had changed immediately and the lines on his face looked to have grown deeper. If that was at all possible.