“No way – I soon made it clear I wasn't having him in the house. So, anyway, you think about that solicitor. Name of Perryman. Clyde Perryman. Good he is.”
“Thanks. I'll remember it.”
Three days later two prison wardens came to visit Jed whilst he lay stretched out on his bunk, trying to catch up with some reading. The remand centre library wasn't the finest in the world, but he had been able to find a dog-eared copy of Jude the Obscure. He peered over the top of the book as the men came in.
“Get your things, Meres. You're going home.”
* * *
It was all true, despite Jed's disbelief. Apparently, the police had withdrawn the charges. Jed, suspicious, especially after what Brian had said about deals, tried not to reveal his thoughts. He quickly got changed, packed away his things, then marched down to the main reception area. After he'd signed the release for his more personal items, he gave the guard behind the counter a hard stare. The guard grinned. “See you soon,” he growled.
“I don't think so,” returned Jed and held the man's gaze. Then the other two were pushing him out of the entrance into the grey afternoon. Jed turned to look at the guards, and then breathed a deep lungful of air as the door firmly closed with a bang. Freedom. Nothing had ever tasted quite so good.
Sullivan sat waiting for him in an unmarked car across the street. He wound down the window as Jed walked by. “You wanna lift, or are you thinking of walking all the way back to Wallasey?”
Without a word, Jed eased himself into the passenger seat, throwing his holdall into the back. Sullivan shook his head slightly as he eased the car into the traffic. “A 'thank you' wouldn't go amiss.”
Jed looked at the policeman as if he had grown another head. “Thank who? You? Don't make me laugh. The only reason you've done this is to get something from me.”
“That's a bit cynical, Jed. Been talking to someone, learning the ropes?”
“What if I have? It's the truth, isn't it?”
“If you say so.” Sullivan reached over to the glove compartment and released the catch. The lid fell down sharply, cracking against Jed's knees. Fumbling around inside, Sullivan brought out a flimsy looking black and white photograph. “Do you know him?”
Jed took the picture and peered at the face. There was something vaguely familiar about the closely cropped hair, the flat nose, the hard, square chin. “I'm not sure…who is he?”
“His name is Peter Davey.” Sullivan pulled the car up to a junction and looked at Jed for a long time. “He's Nurse Willis's boyfriend.” Jed stared right back at the policeman. “Or should I say, was. He was found last night, in Central Park, his skull smashed to pieces.”
* * *
Larry Meres lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, the memories burning through his mind. After they made love on the living room floor, she stood up and walked to the door, her lithe body olive coloured, without a blemish. She smiled and motioned for him to follow. Upstairs, in her bed, she caressed him and stroked him until he was ready again, and their love making the second time was much slower and more sensual. They lay together afterwards for a long time, without words. Now, alone, recalling the wonder of what happened, he didn't feel the slightest pang of guilt. His marriage had been a sham for too many years and although he had always held out hope that Mary would come back to him, he knew deep down she never would. Not in the truest sense. And now, returning to the arms of her lover the way she had, Larry at last accepted his marriage was truly over. Hannah Randall, and how she had made him feel, confirmed it.
He rolled over, the image of Hannah's face, her slim, taut body, always there. A constant reminder of how wonderful life could be at times. The unlooked-for always the sweetest.
His heart filled with electricity, a vibrant buzz running through his limbs, exhilarating him, making him feel like a teenager again. Such emotions remained dormant for so long. So many times he wondered if he would live out the rest of his life without ever again experiencing the touch of a woman. Now that it had happened, and so unexpectedly, he felt as if his life had taken a new turn. Buoyed up with so much energy and excitement, he couldn't stop grinning.
He forced himself to think sensibly, and not get too carried away. It had been wonderful, of course, but perhaps that's all it was, a moment of lust, need. Hannah hadn't said very much afterwards. She seemed unemotional, offering him a simple kiss of the cheek as they parted at the front door. He didn't wonder about it then, but he did now. Did she regret what had happened, he asked himself, having lost all sense of sensibility? A moment's madness, now forgotten? He hoped not. He longed to see her again, even though only three days had passed since they rolled around on her bed. He had phoned her the following morning, but received no answer. He wasn't brave enough to go to her house, but now felt he should. He hadn't seen her in the street or in the shops. The thought crossed his mind that she had gone away. Given the pressure she was under, with Brian locked away, this wouldn't surprise him. What did surprise him, however, was her lack of contact. Not surprise, perhaps. Concern. Having met such a woman and spent such an unforgettable few hours with her, the last thing he wanted, or needed, was for it to have been nothing more than a 'one-night stand'. Apart from the purely physical, they actually had a great deal in common. A platform from which to build, for them to become close, perhaps 'an item'. He hadn't dared hope for anything like that at the time, or voiced his feelings. It was only in the subsequent days, thinking about her constantly, reliving the tenderness, the caress of her hands, the smell of her flesh that he began to formulate little scenarios for the future. Visits to restaurants, theatres, perhaps a holiday…just the two of them…
He shook his head, angry at himself for being so whimsical. This was the stuff of schoolboy adolescence. He had to be realistic, snap himself out of this fluffy fantasy he had busied himself with creating. He got up and went downstairs to make himself a cup of tea. Daydreaming was not really for someone of his age, certainly not for someone in his situation. “Let's just take it one step at a time,” he muttered to himself out loud. “One step at a time.”
It was cold in the little kitchen and he rubbed his hands together. It didn't help. And he knew why. The Arctic atmosphere had little to do with the weather. The house was empty without Jed. Without Mary.
Mary. The thought of her made him crease up in a surge of guilt. He flopped down on a chair and put his face in his hands. He hated all of this, hated his lack of strength, his weakness of character. Most men would be lapping it up, boasting to their mates, not giving a moment's thought to what it all meant. But he wasn't like that, never had been. Was he being a fool to himself, he pondered. Why had Hannah come on to him so strongly? He was no great shakes to look at, a middle-aged man past his best, with little to offer. A woman like that…she could have anyone.
Later on, to keep himself busy, he went out shopping. It was early afternoon and the local supermarket was not busy. Larry wandered down the aisles, picking out the few bits and pieces he needed. Life without Jed was very inexpensive he had found. Not a comforting thought. Life without Jed.
At the checkout, he paid for the items and stepped outside, the carrier bags heavy in his hands. He looked to the sky and groaned. Rain threatened so he hurried across the road and was about to turn into St Albans Road when he stopped abruptly. Coming out of the travel agents on the corner, was Hannah Randall. She saw him and her face went white.
Larry forced a smile. “Hello. How are you?”
She looked around, panic crossing her features, then she recovered herself a little, returning his smile. “Larry, so lovely to see you. I'm fine. Fine. Been shopping?”
It was idle chit-chat, which coming from her, seemed forced and false, as if she were speaking to him out of nothing more than politeness. It made him feel uneasy; positively gloomy. He sucked in a breath. “Why haven't you answered your phone? I've been calling you every day. Is there something wrong?”
She noticed the change in his look an
d grew serious, “Larry.” A pause, but only briefly, a chance to lessen the blow, “I don't think we should have a relationship. It was lovely, but – I'm sorry, but…” Her voice trailed away.
He stood there, rooted to the spot, not really believing what he was hearing. Relationship? What did she mean by that? They'd spent a few glorious hours together, time he believed was mutually pleasurable. Afterward, he hadn't said anything to her, nothing that would lead her to believe that he wanted anything more from her, despite what he hoped. When they'd left, with that kiss on his cheek, he hadn't declared his undying love for her, never even asked if he could see her again. A relationship?
She reached over and gently touched his arm. “You're a sweet man, Larry. I'm sorry.”
Then she kissed him, again on the cheek. He could smell her, just fleetingly, musk and cucumber. Strong and fresh. There came a surge of desire, lancing through his loins. The thought of her, the feel of her…He bit his lip, wanting to shout out, 'Why? What have I done to you, what have I said? What haven't I said? Hannah, please, for pity's sake…' But he didn't. Instead he just smiled, deprecating, not revealing the depth of his own despair, “Yes. You're probably right.” And then he watched her as she drifted away into the distance and out of his life.
Or so he thought.
It struck Larry, almost as soon as he pushed the front door open. A strangeness, something out of place. Different than before he left. He stopped, key still in the lock, body coiled like a spring, waiting. Then he heard it, the faint sound of someone lifting themselves from the front room armchair and his heartbeat began to race. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, Jed came out into the hall, a great grin on his face. “Hello, Dad.”
Dropping the carrier bags, Larry ran into his son's arms, embracing him. It was a rare show of affection but Larry was beyond caring. All of his pent-up emotions broiled up to the surface and he held, clamping his arms around Jed in a steel-like grip.
He stepped back, eyes were wet, smiling. “Why didn't you ring to let me know?”
“I didn't know myself until this morning. The police dropped the charges.”
Larry nodded, without fully understanding. The joy of Jed's return was all that mattered. The explanations and machinations could come later. His son was home. Everything else was small by comparison. Even Hannah Randall.
10
They walked together to school, Jed dragging his feet, not wanting to go. Larry, also reluctant, knew how difficult it was going to be, especially when school friends caught sight of him. Already he could hear the playground taunts.
Mr Phillips took some persuading. He sat, silent and moody, arms folded, leaning back in his chair, his gaze unflinching as Larry set out all the reasons why Jed should be given another chance to stay on at school, get his head down, study hard and pass his GCEs.
“I'm not sure if I want him here at school, Mr Meres.” Phillips cast his dark eyes over Larry and Jed. “I have the reputation of the school to think about, and the safety of the other students. Besides, I doubt if he can pass any of his exams, not now.”
“But you can't legally prevent him from coming back to school, can you Mr Phillips?”
“I can do what I like, Mr Meres. If I don't think it would be advantageous to have Jed back in my school, then that is the decision I will make. This is nothing personal. I like Jed, he used to be a good student. In fact, I can't remember a single instance of ever having to speak to him about any misdemeanour whatsoever, not until that business with the Watson boy.” He blew out his cheeks. “His gallantry aside, what happened with those police officers…”
“All charges have been dropped.”
“Yes, I realise that, but—”
“Well then…”
Phillips gnawed at the inside of his cheek. “If you can prove to me that the opposite is the case, that he can somehow transform himself into a model student…” he shrugged, “then, I shall base my decision on that, and nothing else.”
“Then let me make that promise to you now, Mr Phillips.” Larry glanced over at Jed. “It's been a difficult few days and none of it was of his making. All he needs is this one chance.”
“Guarantees, Mr Meres? Can you offer any of those?”
“Mr Phillips, he's not a monster. He's just confused.”
“Dad…”
“No, Jed. I'm sorry, but all of this is because of what's happened.” He turned to Phillips, his face hard and flat. He didn't want sympathy, he simply wanted some understanding of the plight that Jed had been going through. “My wife had left me, Mr Phillips. It's hit both of us quite hard.”
Phillips tugged at his moustache, thinking. “I didn't know – I'm sorry. Was it something which had been brewing for a while, or…?”
“She left me for another man.” Larry leaned forward. “You can appreciate how difficult things have been.”
“Yes. Yes, I can. Well,” Phillips flipped open Jed's file and quickly scanned down the first few pieces of tightly written paper, “Given the circumstances…”
They wandered back home in silence. It was quite a walk, all the way along Poulton Road, but at least it was a pleasant enough day. The rain had kept off and as they turned into the main gates of Central Park even the foundations of where the pre-fabs had stood seemed somehow brighter and more cheerful.
“I remember when they were still being lived in,” said Jed. “Funny how things stick in your mind.”
Both of them stood for a moment, just staring at the sad, lonely rectangles of broken concrete. The only remaining memory of the homes that had stood there, hastily erected after the War, to help provide homes for those whose own houses had been bombed. “Someone should clear it all away.”
“Then there won't be anything.” Jed looked at his dad. “I think memories are important, even the tiny ones.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know. You must have memories, of when you were younger. Before you met Mum.”
“Of course. But, I rarely look back – not if I can help it. What's done is done.” Larry thought of Hannah and knew his words were hollow. He often reflected on all the things that might have been. Should he tell Jed about what happened with Hannah Russell, would he understand, or would it ignite another eruption of violence?
“I sometimes think all the best things in my life have already been,” Jed said.
“But that's a silly thing to say – you've got your whole life ahead of you.”
“Have I?”
“Of course you have. If anyone, it should be me saying that.”
“But you never know, do you. I mean, you could meet someone else…”
Larry's eyes widened. Did Jed suspect?
“That's if you wanted to. You loved Mum, didn't you?”
A tiny pause but enough, perhaps, to plant a seed. “Yes.”
Jed's eyes remained flat and unfathomable. He started walking again, with Dad a little way behind. “What Phillips said, accepting you back in to school, that was decent of him.” Jed nodded, but didn't speak. “You've been given a chance, Jed. Don't throw it away.”
“I won't.”
They drew level with the bowling greens, where a group of elderly men were chatting to each other, inspecting the grass.
From out of the small, ramshackle clubhouse, another figure appeared, wiping his hands on an old rag. He looked up and stopped. So did father and son.
It was Matthew.
A short word to the men and then he was striding forward, grinning.
“This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”
“We're not here to see you, Mat,” said Larry agitated. Jed remained silent. “Just a coincidence, that's all.”
“Well…now that you're here. I've been meaning to talk to you, Larry. About things.”
Larry glanced across to Jed. “Do you want to hear this, whatever it is?”
“It's really for Jed's benefit,” interjected Matthew.
“Is it really?”
The brothers both winced at the sarcastic tone. “I want to hear it,” said Jed.
Meres grunted and they all walked over to a nearby bench and sat down.
An awkward fell over them, no one really knowing how to start.
“We haven't spoken for years,” said Matthew.
Meres shrugged. “If you need to talk to Jed, then talk.”
“All right.” Matthew leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clamped together. “Why did the police let you go?”
Unexpected, the question jerked both Larry and Jed bolt upright.
Jed coughed and took a breath. “Sullivan met me outside, told me what route to go down if anyone asked why I was out. 'Just tell anyone who asks that we didn't feel that the case was strong enough.' That's how he started. 'That you had been unreasonably provoked. They may not buy that, but at least it's not so unbelievable as to be questioned too deeply.' ”
A quizzical look crossed Mat's face. Jed shrugged. “I'm not going to argue, am I? I'm free.”
Larry snorted, “Didn't want to make themselves out to be fools, more like. Three of them, tackled by a schoolboy…” He sniggered again. “Can you imagine the headlines?”
“So, no deal then?” Mat's voice sounded hard, unconvinced.
Perhaps Mat wasn't going to let it go. “Not as such.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I'm not going to tell you.” Jed looked his half-brother square in the face. “At the end of the day, it hasn't anything to do with you, has it?”
Mat rubbed his chin, glanced down to his shoes and did a little dance with them, appearing uncomfortable. “I talked to Jed about what happened with Mum, Larry. The last time she walked out, when she dumped me.”
The change of subject caught both Larry and Jed unawares. They exchanged a quick glance. “I'm not sure whether I should thank you or not, Matthew. Most of the story is still a mystery to me.” Larry's breathing grew laboured. “I don't know if I ever want to hear it. Not now. And how can it help, digging it all up again? Is that what you want to talk to us about, Mat? How your mother destroyed your dad's heart?”
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