The Dead Beat

by Doug Johnstone

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Johnny said. ‘I brought him here. But he jumped of his own free will.’

  ‘With your gun pointing at him?’

  ‘I don’t expect you to believe me,’ Johnny said. ‘But I know it’s the truth.’

  ‘Why would he jump?’ Martha said.

  ‘Guilt. Shame. Depression. The usual. You know all about it.’

  Martha looked round at the cop, who just raised his eyebrows. She turned back to Johnny. ‘Guilt over what?’

  ‘You’re the reporter, you figure it out.’

  ‘You being locked up in Carstairs.’

  ‘Correct. Twenty-one fucking years. My whole adult life. You’ve no idea.’

  ‘They must’ve had a reason to keep you in there.’

  Johnny was shaking his head, as if he didn’t want to listen.

  ‘And they were right,’ Martha said. ‘As soon as you got out, you killed Ian and Gordon.’

  Johnny seemed close to tears now. ‘I didn’t kill Ian. I told you.’

  ‘But you did kill Gordon.’

  Johnny stared right through them, as if remembering. He nodded. ‘I think he wanted it though. Deep down. I know he did. He just needed a little help to go through with it. Same with Rose.’

  Billy spoke. ‘Rose isn’t dead, we’ve just come from speaking to her in hospital.’

  Johnny considered this for a moment and seemed to deflate. ‘Fuck, that’s annoying.’

  ‘Why did you try to make them look like suicides?’ Martha said, just to keep him talking.

  Johnny shook his head. ‘Why do you think? I didn’t want the police chasing after me while I still had a job to do.’

  Martha waved a hand at the police car behind her. ‘You’ve kind of blown that whole suicide thing now, haven’t you?’

  Johnny looked where she was pointing, then at Elaine. ‘It doesn’t matter any more, I’m finished. Elaine’s the last one. This is the end.’

  ‘Tell us what this is about and we can help you,’ Martha said.

  Johnny pointed the gun at Elaine, tears on his cheeks. ‘Can you believe I was in love with this woman?’

  That laugh again, it made Martha shiver.

  ‘I suppose it was a long, long time ago, but I was in love. Even though she was going out with that idiot brother of mine, despite the fact he was fucking Rose.’ He turned to speak to Elaine. ‘You should’ve finished with Ian as soon as you found out you were pregnant with my babies.’

  The earth shifted under Martha’s feet. ‘What?’

  Johnny nodded. ‘Tell them how you’ve been lying to the two of them for their entire lives.’

  Elaine just sat there sobbing. She moved her head, but Martha couldn’t tell what she meant.

  ‘Mum?’ It was Cal next to her.

  Elaine still didn’t speak.

  ‘Just call me Daddy,’ Johnny said.

  ‘Elaine?’ Martha’s voice sounded weird in her own ears. ‘Is this true?’

  Silence for a moment, no sign of anything from Elaine.

  ‘That’s bullshit and you know it,’ Cal said.

  ‘Is it?’ Johnny said. ‘Think about it. I’ve had quite the eye-opening chat with Elaine today. We’ve had a little while to catch up, finally. Seems like you pair have inherited my brain problems, right?’

  Cal shook his head. ‘We’ve inherited nothing from you. We’re just ourselves, neither you nor Ian ever gave us anything.’

  Martha wished it were as simple as that. She wished she could just dismiss the idea, could strike a line through her past and start afresh. But every time the depression descended, she was reminded of her heritage, wherever it came from.

  She looked around again. The cop was on his radio. Where the fuck were these crisis experts? Elaine was shaking and crying. The gun was still dug into her ribs and Johnny had a strong grip on her hair with his other hand.

  Cal spoke. ‘Why did you burn down our house?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Whatever happened that night twenty years ago has got nothing to do with me and Martha,’ Cal said. ‘So why the fuck did you burn our house down?’

  Johnny looked confused. ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘Come on,’ Cal said. ‘You’ve admitted killing Gordon and trying to kill Rose. What’s a little arson compared to that?’

  Johnny seemed to make a decision. ‘Fuck it, I’ve had enough of this.’

  He stood up on the wall and pulled Elaine to her feet, then he jumped down onto the stone ledge on the other side, hauling Elaine with him. For a brief moment they both lost their balance, and Martha thought they were going to go over. She ran to the wall, Billy and Cal at her side, all three of them reaching out.

  But Johnny wasn’t falling. He’d righted himself, and he was pointing the gun at them. He had Elaine in a headlock.

  ‘I’m going to do what I tried to do twenty years ago,’ he said. ‘Only this time I’m going to get it right.’

  ‘We’re not going to let you jump,’ Cal said.

  Johnny turned to Elaine. ‘He’s a chip off the old block, eh?’

  ‘You don’t know anything about us,’ Cal said. ‘You’re nothing to do with us.’

  ‘I wasn’t allowed to be,’ Johnny said. ‘Thanks to her and Ian, and the rest.’

  ‘You think this is a game of happy families?’ Cal said.

  As Johnny was talking with Cal, Martha had been inching nearer. Watching Johnny closely. Getting ready to move. Johnny was waving the gun around to make a point, which meant it wasn’t aiming at Elaine any more.

  ‘You’re missing the point,’ Johnny said. ‘I don’t want happy families. In fact, quite the opposite. I wasn’t allowed it, so no one else gets it either.’

  He took a small step backwards, to the edge of the ledge, dragging Elaine with him.

  Elaine struggled to pull away, but Johnny had her tight.

  ‘I just wanted you both here to see this,’ he said. ‘So your lives could be ruined just like mine was.’

  He lifted the gun momentarily to make a saluting gesture.

  Martha jumped onto the wall and grabbed his gun arm, yanking it away from his body in an attempt to shake the gun loose. She saw Cal out the corner of her eye scrabble to get hold of his other arm, prise it away from Elaine’s neck. Billy was up on the wall too, then suddenly over, on the ledge. He headbutted Johnny, flattened his nose in a spray of blood. Johnny reeled backwards just as Cal wrenched his grip free from Elaine.

  Martha was still holding his gun arm and being dragged over the edge as Johnny’s balance deserted him, his momentum sending him backwards, hovering for an impossible second with a blank look in his eyes.

  No panic, no anger.

  Just blank.

  Martha’s hold on his sleeve slipped, she felt the material under her fingers as it tore away, and she made an instinctive grab for him.

  But he was already gone, tumbling downwards, arms and legs flailing.

  He hit platform 8 with a heavy whump that Martha felt in her bones.

  She felt a hand pull her back from the ledge and turned to see Billy holding onto her from behind.

  Beside him, Cal had Elaine in a bear hug, leaning against the wall, both of their chests heaving.

  She turned to look at Johnny’s body again.

  No movement.

  He almost looked like he was sleeping.

  Gig #4, 12/9/92

  Her life was such a fucking mess, even the Fanclub playing ‘The Concept’ couldn’t cheer her up.

  The Music Box was heaving, sweat dripping from the ceiling. It was a dingy, stinking place anyway, but it felt like the walls were closing in on her. She felt dizzy and sick. She gripped the gig ticket in her fist, stared at it, trying to focus, make her breathing steady:

  REGULAR MUSIC LTD

  presents

  TEENAGE FANCLUB

  at THE MUSIC BOX, EDINBURGH

  Saturday 12 September, doors 10 pm

  Ticket £6 plus booking fee

>   On stage, Norman was singing, ‘She don’t do drugs, but she does the pill, oh yeah.’ If only Elaine had been more like the girl in the song.

  She didn’t know why they called it morning sickness, she got it all hours of the day and night. She looked at her watch. It was after midnight, and she felt another wave of nausea sweep over her. What was she even doing here? Trying to convince Ian and herself that everything was OK, everything was normal, everything was going to be fine.

  But it wasn’t.

  She was living a lie. Her relationship with Ian was over, it’s just that no one had done anything to actually finish it yet.

  Tonight felt like the end point though. This couldn’t go on any longer.

  She sipped her lager. Shouldn’t be drinking, but she hadn’t told anyone yet, and didn’t want Ian to guess. Not until she’d worked out what the hell she was going to do.

  So she was drinking and smoking joints and hiding her sickness and swollen ankles. That was easy to hide, Ian was barely interested in her anyway, they hardly ever fucked any more.

  He was too busy fucking Rose.

  Not that Elaine had any proof, or any moral high ground. She’d been fucking Johnny on and off since that first time in June.

  And now she was pregnant.

  But Johnny wasn’t the answer, he was getting weirder. Really intense. Scaring her by talking about a future together one minute, then about how much he wanted to hurt himself the next, how there was no point to anything. Too much drama. How could she possibly ditch Ian and make a life with Johnny?

  She couldn’t see a way out.

  She felt a nudge. Ian beside her. She gave him a thin smile.

  ‘It’s your round,’ he said. He glanced at her pint. ‘You’re going a bit slow, eh? What’s up?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  She headed to the bar.

  The band played ‘Star Sign’ and the crowd went ape. She couldn’t handle a fast one. Gerry was singing lead this time. ‘Do you know where you belong?’ If only.

  She ordered a Stella for Ian.

  ‘Hey gorgeous.’ She felt arms around her and squirmed free.

  Johnny.

  She pushed him away. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  ‘That’s a nice way to greet your lover.’ He drawled the last word stupidly, like he was making a joke of it. It wasn’t a joke.

  ‘Ian is just over there,’ Elaine said. ‘Jesus Christ, did you follow us?’

  Johnny held his hands up. ‘Hey, just enjoying a bit of the Fannies, no crime in that, is there?’

  ‘Go home, Johnny.’

  He went to kiss her and she dodged out the way. He grabbed her jaw and forced their lips together.

  She pulled back. ‘Ow, that fucking hurt.’

  ‘Why haven’t you told him about us yet?’

  The pint of Stella arrived and Elaine paid.

  ‘It’s not as simple as that.’

  ‘Yes it is. Want me to do it?’

  Elaine shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘If you don’t, I will.’

  ‘Please Johnny, I have to handle this my own way.’

  Johnny reached into his jacket pocket and pulled something out. ‘Maybe this will help you handle it.’

  He handed over a packet of photographs. Elaine opened the flap and squinted at the first one in the neon light from the bar.

  Ian and Rose kissing in the street. Holding hands.

  She flicked to the next one. Nighttime. The pair of them up against a tree, in the Meadows it looked like, her inner thigh rubbing against his leg, his hand up her blouse.

  Picture five, they were fucking against the tree, Ian’s trousers and boxers pushed down, Rose’s skirt hiked up, her pants at her ankles.

  Elaine flicked through the rest of the pictures. Different days, different places, always together, sometimes fucking, mostly snogging or with their hands in each other’s pants. They were very tactile in a way she couldn’t remember ever being with him.

  The last two were of them sitting together in a park, her head on his shoulder, both of them laughing. For some reason this was worse than the pictures of them fucking. They looked like two people in love.

  She glared at Johnny. ‘You followed them and took pictures?’

  ‘Thought you could use the evidence.’

  Elaine shook her head.

  Johnny grabbed her elbow, his face too close to hers. The vodka on his breath made her feel sick.

  ‘Don’t you see, this gives you the excuse you need.’

  She pushed herself free. ‘I’m going to be sick.’

  She ran to the toilet.

  Into a cubicle just in time, felt the puke rushing up her throat, stripping the skin away as her stomach convulsed.

  She felt a hand on her back, rubbing.

  Johnny. ‘It’s OK.’

  ‘Get out.’

  ‘We’ll go and tell him together,’ Johnny said.

  Elaine spat into the toilet. ‘No, we won’t.’

  ‘It’s simple.’

  ‘It’s not.’

  ‘Why isn’t it?’

  ‘Because I’m pregnant.’

  It just spilled out and she regretted it straight away.

  At least it shut him up for a minute. But only a minute.

  ‘It’s mine, isn’t it?’ he said.

  He was too intense, too much was happening far too quickly. She didn’t want him to have a hold over her, to have a link to her future.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t lie,’ he said. ‘I know it’s mine.’

  Elaine pushed past him to the sinks, took a mouthful of water and rinsed her mouth out.

  ‘Go home, Johnny,’ she said. ‘We’ll talk about this tomorrow.’

  ‘No. Now.’

  ‘You’re drunk.’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘I can’t handle this.’

  She left the ladies. The band were playing ‘Everything Flows’, one of her favourites.

  She saw Ian and couldn’t believe it. He was standing talking to Rose, Gordon and Sam lurking in the background. Really? Ian and Rose had some balls.

  Elaine had to get out of here.

  She went to the bar, picked up the pint that she’d bought him, still sitting there, then walked up to Ian and tapped him on the shoulder.

  When he turned, she threw the pint in his face, then dropped the plastic glass. Beer sprayed all over Rose, who seemed to be smiling at her. She wanted to punch that smile.

  She turned and pushed through the crowd towards the door. She was vaguely aware of Johnny behind her, talking to Ian and the rest.

  The band were in the big finale of the song. ‘Set a course that I don’t know.’

  She pushed the door and headed upstairs, claustrophobia drowning her, suddenly needing fresh air above anything else on earth.

  She was halfway down the Royal Mile before she heard the voices calling after her.

  She didn’t turn round, just shook her head and kept walking. Didn’t want to do this now. Didn’t want to do it ever, just wanted to go home and sleep until it was all over.

  ‘Elaine.’

  Ian.

  Or Johnny.

  Shit, did it matter?

  At the top of Cockburn Street she glanced back. They were all coming, gaining on her. Ian, Johnny. Fucking Rose. Even Gordon, what did it have to do with him? No sign of Sam.

  She hit the junction with the Bridges. Taxis and night buses streaming up and down.

  Home was to the right, up South Bridge, but Ian and the rest were across the road, coming towards her from that direction.

  She went left, onto North Bridge. Needed some space to clear her head.

  ‘Elaine, fuck’s sake, wait.’ Definitely Ian that time.

  She heard an argument. Turned and saw the brothers were scuffling in the road, Gordon trying to separate them. She walked further away, across the road, down North Bridge, anything to get away.

  She heard footsteps
and knew what was coming. Felt a hand on her shoulder, spinning her.

  Rose.

  ‘Wait.’ She was out of breath.

  ‘Fuck off.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘I said fuck off.’ Elaine shook free of Rose’s hand but didn’t walk away. She looked at her. Rose was puffing, chest heaving. She was so much more of a woman than Elaine, knew all the tricks of capturing male attention. Older, wise to the world.

  The boys had caught up.

  ‘You’re pregnant?’ Ian said. ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’

  She could see everyone was drunker than she was, and she wasn’t exactly sober. This was ridiculous. ‘I’m not having this conversation now.’

  ‘Why not?’ Johnny said.

  ‘Because it’s half past fucking midnight, we’ve all been drinking for hours and I feel sick and want to go home.’

  ‘Just calm down,’ Rose said.

  ‘Don’t you fucking speak to me,’ Elaine said. ‘Just don’t. I know exactly what you’ve been doing with my boyfriend, don’t you tell me to calm down.’

  What was she doing? She didn’t want Ian, so why pretend to be angry about this? But it was the betrayal, the deceit.

  ‘And you’ve been fucking Johnny,’ Rose said quietly.

  Elaine’s eyelids felt very heavy. She scrunched her eyes shut, opened them and looked at Ian.

  He didn’t doubt it. She could tell from the look on his face that he’d probably known all along, he just hadn’t admitted it to himself. How many of us sleepwalk through life, she thought, never telling the truth to ourselves.

  His face now looked like he’d just woken up from a coma. He was piecing his senses and his life back together.

  ‘Is the baby mine?’ he said.

  Elaine didn’t speak.

  Johnny came forward and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘Ian . . .’

  Ian shook it off. ‘I said, is the baby mine?’

  It would be easy to say yes or no. Just say yes or no, put an end to this.

  Ian looked at Johnny, then back at her. ‘How long has this been going on behind my back?’

  Johnny pulled the photos from his pocket. ‘Don’t get on your fucking high horse.’

  He handed them to Ian, who opened the packet. Hardly even looked inside.

  ‘You’ve been following me?’

  ‘With good reason, it turns out,’ Johnny said.