Randall shrugged. “At first, I thought it was. Anyway, I went downstairs, got myself a drink. It was around three in the morning. Because I'd gone to bed so early, I didn't feel tired anymore. The house was so cold, so unfriendly at that time in the morning. I opened the back door and stood there, peering out into the backyard, holding my cup of tea, trying to think. And that's when it happened. He came up behind me and grabbed me by the shoulder. I freaked, dropping the teacup and I span round, stepping back out into the backyard. I didn't have any shoes on, but I didn't care about that. I kept walking backwards and all the while he stood there, in the kitchen doorway.”
“Who, Brian? The man in your bedroom?”
Randall licked his lips. “Yeah. Except, it wasn't a man. Well, if it was, it was like no man I'd ever seen. It was the same size, and it had arms and legs, but its face, Jed…” he slapped his hands over his eyes again, shaking uncontrollably. Squatting down, Jed clutched at his arm. Randall looked at him through his fingers. “Jed – it was something from hell. A ghoul, a corpse, some sort of horrible monster! It just stood there, its face like a skull, empty eye sockets, a long, thin chin and a mouth that was so wide…” He took away his hands. The tears tumbled down his cheeks. “And he laughed, Jed. He stood there and laughed at me.”
They walked back up to the main road in silence. It was getting late and the shops were closing. Thinking his dad would be worried, Jed stepped into a phone box and called him, to explain he would be a little late. He managed to persuade Dad all would be fine and when he came out, Randall shot him a concerned glance, one which Jed waved away, smiling. “Listen, Bri, everything is going to be okay – you've got to try and not worry about any of this.”
“Not worry? That's easy for you to say – you didn't see it.”
“I know, but…” What was he supposed to say that wasn't going to sound feeble? Just down the road was the Rose and Crown pub: although Jed wasn't a drinker, he nevertheless thought that it might help Brian in some way, settle his nerves. “Come on, the pub's just opened. I'll buy you a drink.”
Randall grunted, but he followed him inside nevertheless.
There were two or three early drinkers standing around. Jed gave them a nod and Jed went to the bar. He ordered two halves and, nodding his thanks to the barmaid, took them over to a corner table. Randall sat down and took a long drink. “I would've preferred a pint,” he said.
“Sorry. I'll get you another—”
“No, it doesn't matter. Thanks anyway.” He drained the glass, got up and went to get himself another. Again, tipping the glass all the way back, he drained it. After the third half arrived, he joined Jed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and sat down with a loud grunt. “There's something else.”
“Oh?” Jed prepared himself for another tale of ghouls in the night.
“Just before I got out, I received a package of photographs.”
Jed frowned, feeling uncomfortable. Randall's manner had changed, no longer afraid, more angry.
“They were of my mum, having it off with some bloke. In her bedroom.” He reached inside his coat, pulled out the cigarettes, threw the pack on the table, and delved inside his pocket once more. This time he drew out a thick, manila envelope, creased and torn at the corners. Jed watched him, fascinated, as he began to reveal one photograph at a time, placing them onto the table with a deliberate snap. Jed looked down, frozen in horror at what he saw. Two adults, completely naked, making passionate love to one another. It could have been classed as pornography if it wasn't for the fact that Jed recognised both of them. When the last photograph joined the others, he looked up into Randall's face and those eyes of his, wet with tears. He was struggling to keep himself under control. “I want you to tell me what's going on – and then give me one good reason why I don't go round and cut off your dad's balls.”
17
There were two things nagging away at Jed as he sat on his bed, listening to Electric Warrior by T-Rex. Firstly, why was Brian Randall so angry about his mum and Jed's dad 'getting it together'? He knew what his mum was like, and had been through it all before with Sullivan. These things happen. Okay, it might be a little embarrassing – in all honesty, it was really embarrassing, but nothing to get so het-up about, surely. Jed could understand the reaction about Sullivan. A policeman, that close, especially when you had a bit of a track record, like the one Brian had, or still did. But, when it was merely a next-door neighbour. No, it just didn't feel right that Brian should be so threatening, so upset. Perhaps more worrying were the photographs. Who had taken them, and why? Whoever it was must have been in the bedroom, probably hiding in the wardrobe, waiting. To get such intimate shots, it had to be planned. That would mean that the whole affair had been pre-arranged, that there was somebody out there who wanted to manipulate the meeting, get Brian's mum to entice Dad into her bed and then make love to him. But why?
He rubbed at his face, mind going around in circles, forever ending up with the same question – why go to all those lengths to take photographs and then send them to Brian? Was it to cause a rift, to force him to threaten Dad, or perhaps something worse? Blackmail. But, blackmail for what? Dad hadn't broken any laws, he wasn't a man of influence or reputation. And, even more telling – he was not rich.
Flipping the record onto side two, Jed recalled the many conversations they had had whilst on remand. Brian's hallucinations, his paranoia. Everyone against him, plotting, threatening. Jed knew Brian smoked a lot of marijuana, cannabis, hash, or any combination – anything he could hold of in the readily available supply behind bars. His story of the sinister figure lurking in his room, wasn't that more of the same? He lived in a world of drugs. He was a small-time drug dealer, with links to major suppliers. That was Sullivan's opening gambit, when he'd first broached the subject with Jed. But the arrangement for Jed to infiltrate Brian's inner-circle no longer remained. Sullivan had ended it.
And now this. Ghouls and photographs and threats. How could anything be simple anymore, especially with Jonathan Kepowski always there, in the shadows, waiting.
Every time Jed thought of him, a glorious thrill ran right through his chest, leaving him breathless. He'd tried to fight against it, but whenever an image of Jon came into his head, he grew weak, mouth slack, the erection stirring. Christ, what the bloody hell was the matter with him? Jon possessed such power, such dominance so that even now, as Jed's mind turned to him, he grew aroused. He crashed down on his bed, blowing out his breath, and surrendered to his desires.
Whatever had gone passed between them at the lake, and later in the hospital and The Clarion, Jon now controlled him. Through hypnotism? Maybe. Or his supreme self-confidence, which Jed found so incredibly exhilarating. Did he actually fancy Jon, and would that make him gay?
Closing his eyes, he forced himself to focus on the music filling the room, Marc Bolan's gyrating rock-rhythms taking him to another place, far away. A place where there were no problems, no anxieties, only boundless light and energy and dreams galore. He drifted off to sleep.
He woke up with a start, cold and anxious. Darkness enveloped him, the silence eerie. The record having long since come to an end, Jed sat up with a jerk and fumbled for his bedside clock. It was gone 10 pm. He cursed himself for sleeping so long. Still dressed in his clothes, he felt sweaty and dirty, his eyes gritty and sore. He stood up, shaking himself. Crossing over to his window, he drew the curtains to and rubbed his arms. Shivering, he made his way downstairs.
Stumbling into the kitchen, he passed the living room, the television blaring out. He filled the kettle. A cup of tea and a piece of toast, then he would have to go back to bed again. School beckoned in the morning. Just a few more weeks, then he'd be on study-leave for 'A' levels.
A few more weeks.
Could he last that long?
The kettle boiled and Jed poured the water into the pot and gave it a good stir. He thought he'd go and ask his dad if he wanted a cup, so he padded down the hall and put his hea
d round the door to the living room. He blinked and took a second look.
The room was empty. His dad wasn't there.
Jed waited in the living room, tea long forgotten. This wasn't like Dad, simply going off into the night without saying a word, not even leaving a note. Something must have happened, something urgent. Whatever the reason, there was nothing Jed could do except wait. He gnawed at his fingernails whilst watching the television. The minutes ticked slowly by.
At last he heard the key in the door and jumped up, almost colliding with his dad in his rush to greet him.
“Dad, where the hell—” His words died on his lips. Larry Meres was deathly white, his hands trembling, but not with the cold. “Jesus God, Dad – are you okay?”
Larry, close to tears, pushed past and fell into a chair. Jed waited in the doorway.
“I got a call. From Hannah.” Slowly Jed moved across the room and sat opposite. Larry sniffed loudly. “She'd, er, had a row, with her son. Brian. Someone, nobody knows who, sent him some photographs of me and his mother…you know, shots of us both—”
“Dad, I—”
“Just a minute, Jed, please.” Larry held up his hand, pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. “He was like someone deranged, calling her every word under the sun. I could hear him in the background when she called. God knows what the neighbours must have thought. It's a wonder they didn't call the police. Anyway, by the time I ran round, he'd gone. She was sitting on the sofa, with the photos in her hand.”
In the pause, Jed took the opportunity to speak, “Dad, it's all right, I know about the photographs.”
Larry Meres gaped, caught off-guard. “You – you know? But how – I mean, who—?”
“Brian. He'd already told me. That's where I was at the end of school today. He was waiting for me at the gate.”
“What, to show you the photographs? You've seen them? Christ!” He turned away, embarrassed or ashamed, a hand pressed against his mouth. “Oh God, Jed. I'm so sorry.”
“It doesn't matter, Dad. I'm not shocked, or upset.”
“You're not?” The relief on Larry's face was almost comical. A wide grin split his face. “Jed, I'm so—”
“Have you any idea, any clue at all as to who took them?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“The photos, Dad. Whoever took them must have been in the room with you, hiding in the wardrobe or something.”
His mouth dropped again, the grin swept away. “My God – you mean, he was in there, already?”
“If it was a 'he'. But, yeah, he must have been.”
“But that – no, that couldn't have happened. It's madness – Hannah would have known!”
“And what makes you think she didn't?”
Larry shook his head, eyes staring sightlessly towards the floor, deep in thought. “But – but for what purpose?”
“Blackmail?”
“Don't be absurd. Blackmail. No, that can't be – why would she ask me to go round there, to help her with Brian if they are all in it together? If it was some God-awful set-up? It can't be that.”
“It wasn't a random act, Dad, that's for sure.”
“But why would anyone do … Unless. Jesus, for a sex thing? Somebody getting their rocks-off by watching Hannah and me … Oh God. You think it might be that?”
“I don't know, but something about all of this just doesn't feel right. You know she had an affair with Sullivan, don't you?”
“Sullivan? You mean, the policeman, the one who came round here to question you?”
Jed nodded. “Brian went wild when he found out, which I can understand, Sullivan being a copper and all and Brian not being the cleanest sheet in the laundry basket.” Jed stood up, needing to keep moving, help him put his mind into focus. He crossed to the mantelpiece and stared at his reflection in the large, gilded mirror above the fireplace. He looked old, older than eighteen, older every time he looked in a mirror. “She's an attractive woman, living on her own with a son who is dabbling in drugs. Using and selling them.” He turned and shot his dad a quick glance. “And before you say anything – I'm not using.”
“I've never suspected that. Never.”
Jed grunted. “Look, she entices you back to her place and the next thing there are photos of you being splashed around. The big question is why. If it's not blackmail, what's it all for?”
“I think I know. I've thought about it. In fact, I've been thinking about it even before I knew about the photos. A woman like that, why did she come on so strong to me? Was it just for sex…No, that's – that's too simple. She was – God, this is so awkward…” He rubbed his face with his hands and sat there for a few moments, and Jed waited, feeling his dad's embarrassment. At last, Larry looked up again. “It was weird, Jed. Like nothing else. I mean, she was wild, out of control.” Jed winced. “Sorry, I know you don't want to hear this, but …”
“It's all right. Just tell me.”
“She … I thought it meant something, but then, to just drop me, like a hot potato. I was left reeling when she announced to me, in the street, that we shouldn't have a relationship. But, the thing is, I never said a word to her about that. This may sound crass and clichéd, but I still love your mum. Things haven't been good between us, not for ages, but that hasn't stopped me from loving her. She's still the same woman I married all those years ago. And when Hannah came on so strong, I suppose I was confused, as well as a little flattered. An attractive woman like that, fancying someone like me.”
“Dad,” Jed sat down next to him, “listen to me. This has been a shock, to all of us. I'm not a little boy anymore, I can handle all of this. I've known things haven't been right for a long time, but, that's just the way it is. Lots of lads at school have been through the same thing, it's not that uncommon. But, this Hannah Randall business, it's got to be linked to everything else. If, like you say, she comes onto you strong, then just drops you for no reason, that is weird. Too much is going on, Dad. Mum leaves and suddenly the world drops out of our world. Not just yours, but mine too. Less than a month ago, I was just like any other schoolboy, getting through the week, looking forward to Friday, wishing my life away. Then, smack, everything is torn apart. Look what has happened since Mum walked out.” He ticked off each incident with his fingers, “The murders, the police, my going to Risley, meeting up with Brian Randall. You and his mum. And now the photographs. It's all more than just coincidence, dad. It's all been arranged.”
“Arranged? What, you mean somebody planned all of this. But that – that's just nuts, Jed!”
“Is it? My becoming friendly with Brian inside, then you and his mum, the photographs. No, Dad. It's all fitting together, and I think I know who's behind it all, and who took the photos. The only person who would want to drive a wedge between us.” Jed nodded as he voiced his thoughts, unravelling the whole mystery. “Yeah, it's all becoming very clear to me now. He's still in love with her, and he tried to use me to get to Brian. It's our old friend Sullivan, that's who it is.”
Larry Meres licked his lips, then blew out a long, shuddering breath. “You could be right, Jed.”
“I know I am. Now my only concern is was what the hell are we going to do about it?”
Later, in the darkness, Jed lay, staring. In all of his calculations and suspicions there was one piece he hadn't set before his dad. The obvious piece.
Things hadn't started falling apart after Mum left.
They had started after he'd saved Jonathan Kepowski from drowning.
18
From his dad's bookshelf, he picked out an old copy of The Pnume by Jack Vance, pages orange-edged. It was the cover that enthralled him. A strange, mystical looking figure, in half shadow, floating in mid air as it drifted out of a murky background. It was the perfect inspiration for the art-work he needed to prepare for his exam.
All that morning he worked on the preliminary sketches, changing the setting, the colours, going outside to sketch trees, adding them to the overall
concept. By the time lunchtime came, he was feeling pleased with himself at what he had accomplished so far. Even Miss Earle, his Art teacher, cooed appreciably. Stick thin, Jed thought her mildly crazy, but she was an incredibly gifted artist and he could have spent all day, every day, in that art studio.
Later, he wandered up to Wallasey Village and went into Tate's bookshop for a quick browse along the shelves. After parting with some precious cash, Jed stepped outside with his new purchase and almost cried out in surprise as there, waiting for him, stood Jon Kepowski. Next to him, enjoying the brittle early spring sunshine were two girls, who broke into giggles the moment they saw him. Jon stepped forward, big grin on his face, hand outstretched. Jed took it as if in a trance.
“Thought I'd catch you here,” said Jon, putting his arm around Jed's shoulders, steering him away from the shop. “I hear you've been having a little bit of trouble, Jed.”
Jed stiffened, pulling himself away, frowning. “Trouble? How do you know about any trouble I've been having?”
Jon shrugged, giving that easy smile of his. He nodded towards the girls. “We're going off for a little drive in the country. Fancy it?”
“Drive? But, Jon, I'm at school – remember? This is my lunch break. I have to go back and finish off my artwork. It's for my exam.”
“Ah…yeah…” he sniggered, shooting a glance towards the girls, who giggled again. “I had a word with that teacher of yours. Miss Early is it? Very nice. Very lean…”
Jed watched in horror as Jon licked his lips. “You mean, Miss Earle?” He held his breath.
“Yeah, that's it. She seemed fine with me taking you out for the afternoon. Said you've worked so hard this morning that she had no problems with you taking some time off.”
“She said that? Honestly?”
“Jed, would I lie to you?” He gave an extravagant grin, then turned to the others, “Come on girls, we're going down to Eastham. Treat you all to a nice steak and chips at Bernie's.” The girls cackled with delight and Jed felt as if he were in a dream as Jon slowly took him by the arm and led him towards his parked car.
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