Magnificent Joe

by James Wheatley

  ‘But that slut knows where he is.’

  ‘She doesn’t know anything.’

  ‘She’s been lying to you. She knows. I’ll break her legs if I have to.’

  I’m suddenly angry, but not with Geoff. ‘Fuck you.’

  ‘What? It’s money, you idiot! It’s yours too.’

  ‘Hold on a minute. You don’t have real proof. All you’ve got is that note. That could mean anything.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I’m saying I’m not going to help you. I’m keeping my mouth shut. You can’t prove we ever had a lottery syndicate, and you’re not getting any of the money.’

  ‘You’re in on this! You bastard!’

  He throws himself at me and I punch him in the teeth. He hits the ground like a sack of shit.

  ‘Oh God.’ Laura.

  ‘He’ll be all right – he always had a glass jaw.’

  Geoff’s letter is still clutched in his fist. I lean over and take it from him, stuff it in my pocket. Then I grab him by one ankle and drag him off the property. A woman crossing the road stops to stare.

  ‘Just taking out the rubbish,’ I tell her.

  I leave Barry in the gutter, groaning.

  Back inside, Laura is crouched against the wall with her head in her hands. I pull her to her feet. ‘Did you know about this?’

  ‘No. Honestly.’

  ‘Why did you react like that when I came out? You said you’d never take Geoff back anyway, so why would it matter if Barry knows about us?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m just…scared. I don’t want that bastard to think he was right all along.’

  She’s telling the truth. I let her go. ‘Where’s Geoff’s tool hod?’

  ‘In the garage.’

  I go out and look for it; it’s sitting on a workbench just as he left it. The little policeman’s notebook is inside, just as it always was: our numbers on the first page, then the running account of all the money we’ve ever staked. There are even some old tickets stuck between the leaves. This is the physical proof that Geoff ripped us off. I can’t believe the fat bloody fool forgot to take it with him.

  What the fuck am I supposed to do with it?

  ‘What is it?’ Laura comes up behind me.

  ‘It’s the account. Geoff organized the syndicate. Me and Baz never took it that seriously. Half the time we forgot to bloody pay him.’

  ‘So Barry’s right?’

  ‘Yeah. Your husband’s taken us for idiots.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  We both stare at the notebook.

  ‘How much do you hate Barry?’ I ask her.

  ‘Completely. I’ve never hated anyone so much in my life.’

  ‘Me too.’

  I decide what to do. I take the notebook into the kitchen, tear out the pages, and drop them into the sink with Geoff’s letter and Barry’s list. I open the windows, close the door, and look around for a lighter. I find a pack of five in a drawer, shrink-wrapped, straight off a market stall. I pull one out. Laura follows me in.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Burning it all.’

  ‘What about us?’

  ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Anyway, you already got a free house out of the deal.’

  ‘It’s not your decision to make. I’m his wife; some of that money is mine.’

  ‘There’s no way I’m going to let Barry get his share, but if we don’t get rid of this, that’s exactly what will happen.’

  ‘Jesus. I don’t want to watch this.’

  She walks out. I burn it.

  ‌38

  I don’t see her again for several days, but then she turns up at my house one evening after work. She stands on the doorstep, doesn’t know what to say.

  Eventually, ‘Hello.’

  ‘Have you forgiven me?’ I ask.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.’

  ‘Well, here I am.’

  Yes. Here she is. We had fallen into a routine and then fallen out of it and I saw again how tenuous things are between us, but she has come back. And I’m glad to see her.

  I lead her into the living room and we climb into my armchair together, Laura curled up in my lap. I stroke her hair and feel her heartbeat against my chest and her breath against my skin.

  ‘Are we just making more trouble for ourselves with this?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she says. The only possible answer.

  ‘And what about Barry?’

  ‘I haven’t heard anything else from him.’

  ‘He’ll be planning his next move. He won’t give up yet.’

  ‘I want to stay here tonight.’

  ‘That’s fine.’

  —

  A crash from below and I’m on my feet, breathing hard. I charge downstairs and skid into the living room. Broken glass glitters on the carpet, and the curtains billow in the wind. I flick on the light just as Laura appears behind me.

  ‘Don’t come any further. There’s glass everywhere.’

  ‘What happened?’

  I point at the brick on the floor. ‘That happened.’ We look at each other. ‘Barry,’ I say.

  She sags and turns away. ‘For fuck’s sake. Is this all there is? Is this what we get?’

  ‘Laura—’

  ‘I can’t live in this shithole anymore. I’m sick of everything.’

  She goes back to bed without another word. I stand motionless, staring at the glass. If I lose her because of Barry, I’m going to kill him.

  I sweep away the mess and tape a bin bag and a piece of card over the broken window. Finally, I pick up the brick.

  PAEDOS OUT

  The words are scrawled on the flat underside in white chalk. This isn’t for me; it’s for Joe. I drop the brick. But he’s innocent. He’s innocent.

  I run upstairs, turn on the lights in the bedroom, start pulling on clothes. Laura sits up.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I need to go to Joe’s.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘They’re after him.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ll explain later. I’ve got to go.’

  I get in the car and set off. My chest is tight, and I can feel my guts slithering inside me. Is Barry behind this? I don’t know now. I reach Joe’s place and everything looks quiet: no lights on, no people around, no strange cars, nothing out of place. I get out and knock on his door, but I don’t wait long before checking if it’s locked. It isn’t – again – so I just go in. I walk through the ground floor, turning on all the lights as I go. There’s no sign of anything untoward. All I sense is the living stillness of a house at night: the dirty mug on the coffee table, the cushions arranged at random on the couch.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Behind me.

  I spin on my heel and face him. He stands at the bottom of the stairs in his pyjamas, all sleepy-faced. ‘You need to keep the fucking door locked, Joe!’

  ‘All right, keep your hair on.’

  ‘I could’ve been anyone.’

  ‘No, you couldn’t. You’re only you.’

  I feel stupid. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t tell him the truth; his existence here is fragile enough. If I scare him, everything will go to shit again. ‘Look, just keep the door locked,’ I say.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

  ‘Don’t bother – I’m going.’

  ‘You’re crackers, you.’

  ‘I’m coming close, mate.’ I walk back into the kitchen and pause at the door. ‘Look, has anyone been here apart from me?’

  He shakes his head. ‘Nope.’

  ‘Right. Lock the door behind me and go back to bed. Call me if you need anything.’

  He yawns, loudly. I leave his house, sit in the car, and watch his windows go dark. I wonder why someone put a brick through my window but left Joe alone. Maybe whoever it was thought Joe was still staying with me, or maybe he just couldn’t be bothered to
come all the way out here, and chose a more conveniently located victim. Or maybe it really was Barry, using Joe as an excuse to get to me. If someone is spreading false rumours, though, I need to put a stop to it. The question is, how the hell do I do that? Especially if I’m part of the rumour.

  I drive home, and when I get in, I find Laura sitting at the table, fully clothed with the brick in her hands. She holds it up to me.

  ‘This is disgusting.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’

  ‘Look, while you were gone, I was thinking. There’s no reason for either of us to stay here. Let’s go away.’

  ‘My whole life’s here.’

  ‘Life? In a place where people do things like this? Why would you want to stay?’

  ‘What about Joe? I can’t leave him to face this on his own.’

  ‘Just tell the police and have done with it.’

  ‘Fuck the police. The police can’t help.’

  ‘Jesus. Sometimes I think you’re just looking for more reasons to punish yourself for what happened. You could have so much more. You made one mistake! Geoff told me what happened that day. It was an accident. You were just trying to defend your mates, and all the rest of it – your mam dying, what your dad did to himself – was not your fault. This isn’t your responsibility.’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with that!’ I’m almost shouting now. ‘I can’t leave Joe.’ Why doesn’t she understand?

  ‘You’re just using that as an excuse. You don’t have to let prison hold you back anymore. You could leave here. You could go to college, like you wanted to when you were a kid. I’ll help you.’

  ‘All that might be true, but it doesn’t matter now. I need to be here for Joe.’

  ‘Fine.’ She puts the brick on the table. ‘But I can’t deal with it.’

  ‘You don’t have to deal with it. It’s not your problem.’

  ‘I’m scared and I’m going home. I’m sorry.’ She gets up and leaves. I hear the front door close behind her, then I go to bed.

  —

  I wake up late the next morning and swear at my unset alarm clock as it ticks towards 10 a.m. I have to go to work; there’s nothing else I can do.

  When I arrive at the site, I find Rupert and Lee in the barn, just starting their lunch. They watch me walk in, but don’t say anything.

  ‘Sorry I’m so late.’ I search for a realistic excuse, but I can’t think of anything, so I just shut up. The kettle is still hot. I make myself a cup of tea and go and sit on my deckchair. Rupert puts the lid on his lunchbox and goes outside.

  ‘He all right?’

  ‘Dunno.’ Lee shrugs. ‘You’ll have to ask him.’ He takes a bite of his sandwich and starts to chew.

  ‘Right. I’ll get on with that digging out, then.’

  ‘Suit yourself.’

  Down the lane, I can see Rupert sitting in his car, eating and fiddling with his radio. I grab my pickaxe and shovel, and go into the other barn, where I’m supposed to be tearing out the years of compacted mud. Really, it’s a job for the excavator, but Jethro wasn’t prepared to let us knock a hole in the wall large enough for us to drive it through, so I’m doing it by hand. I swing myself into the work and lose track of time. The next thing I know, Rupert comes in and starts digging at the opposite end of the building. For the past two days, we’ve been working next to each other.

  ‘You all right?’ I ask.

  No answer.

  ‘I said sorry for being late.’

  He swings his mattock into the floor with unnecessary violence and stalks out, leaving it jammed there with the blade buried almost to the handle.

  ‘Fuck’s sake,’ I mutter, and start work again, but Lee comes in.

  ‘Look, just don’t talk to him, all right? He’s got strong opinions on the subject.’

  ‘What fucking subject?’

  ‘You know what I’m talking about.’

  ‘I bloody don’t.’ But the truth is, I’m starting to get an idea.

  ‘Just keep your head down.’

  He walks away. I follow him out into the yard and call after him, ‘What’s going on here?’ I sound lame. I know what’s going on here, and I’m only asking out of a last, desperate hope that I’m wrong.

  ‘Look, I don’t believe you had anything to do with what he did, but you cannat be protecting a bloke like that.’

  ‘Christ. Where did you hear about this?’

  ‘Jethro told us this morning, before you got here.’

  ‘And where did he hear it?’

  Lee shrugs. ‘Friend of the family, he said.’

  ‘Joe didn’t do it. He’s innocent. The police let him go because it was all a load of bullshit.’

  ‘So you say. We heard he was caught red-handed.’

  ‘So why isn’t he in prison, then, if it was all so bang to rights?’

  ‘Because he’s mental. Special treatment and that. Anyway, even if he didn’t do it, it’s just weird you being mates with him. He’s…fucking…y’know.’ Lee looks less sure of himself now.

  ‘Don’t be so bloody daft. You know where this has come from? Fucking Barry, that’s who. Do you really believe any gossip that comes from that bastard?’

  ‘You’d better take this up with Jethro. He was looking for you this morning anyway.’

  ‘Oh brilliant.’

  ‘Here he comes now.’

  I turn and see that Lee is right: Jethro’s car is coming up the lane right towards us. I feel like I’ve walked into an ambush. He keeps driving right at me, and for a moment I don’t think he’s going to stop. He pulls up with about a foot to spare, the door flies open, and he throws himself out of the car. Without his hat, I see that he’s completely bald.

  ‘Well, if they’re too scared to tell you, I’ll tell you myself. You’re sacked!’

  ‘Are you completely insane?’ If he comes any closer, I’ll knock him out.

  ‘I know all about you. I know the things you’ve done. And now this. Bosom bloody buddies with a paedophile? I don’t want you on my property.’

  ‘Who the hell have you been talking to?’

  ‘Your mate Barry’s sister-in-law is married to my wife’s brother. Didn’t know that, did you? But I’ve had your number from the start.’

  Well, at least now I know how Barry knew I worked here. I realize that I’m not going to hit Jethro – there’s no point – so I just say, ‘It’s not true. Joe didn’t do anything.’

  ‘I hope someone cuts your balls off.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re thick as thieves with him. You knew what he was. You’ve probably been covering up for him for years. You probably do it yourself – Baz says you’ve always been a weirdo.’

  ‘Baz is a lying, evil bastard. If you’ve got any sense, you should know that just as well as I do.’

  ‘Get lost, and don’t come back.’

  ‘Aye, I’m going. Don’t worry about that.’

  I walk back to the car and change out of my boots. I’m about to leave when Lee taps on the window. I wind it down.

  ‘Look,’ he says, ‘I don’t know who to believe now, but the way Jethro told it, there are certain people who aren’t going to let this lie.’

  ‘Neither am I.’

  I drive off and leave him standing there.

  ‌39

  She’s an Englishwoman. Geoff hadn’t expected that. It makes him want to keep quiet. He doesn’t want to reveal anything about himself in case – despite the letter and his very good reasons for leaving – Laura might be searching and his name might be known. When they go out to the car, it turns out that she has a driver, so she gets in the back with him and just keeps chatting. Jesus fucking Christ, he thinks. Is this dippy bitch going to shut the fuck up or what?

  ‘Geoffrey, I really think you’re going to like this apartment, yeah? It’s only like ten minutes from the beach, so you can go down there whenever you feel like it, but the complex is, like, really quiet, so you’ll really feel like you’ve got your own space,
do you know what I mean? And it’s gated…’

  Geoff’s face is going stiff. Will living in this country frazzle his brain like it has hers? She’s a bit younger than him, this estate agent – or ‘realtor’, as she calls herself – and Geoff usually finds women in business clothes sexy, but he doesn’t fancy her. She’s still talking. It’s not even estate-agent-speak anymore, but some yet more witless brand of total bollocks and Geoff can’t follow a word of it. Maybe, thinks Geoff, this is what being an ex-pat does to you.

  He realizes that she has stopped talking and is looking at him expectantly. He has no idea what she just asked, but he starts to speak automatically and the first thing out of his mouth is, ‘Call me Geoff. Everyone else does, like.’

  ‘Oh. Oh right, yeah, great. Thanks, Geoff. So is the apartment just for you, or is someone coming out to join you?’

  ‘Just me, love. I’m here alone.’

  ‘Me too. I’ve been here almost two years now. It’s just, like, so totally amazing.’

  Geoff nods and looks out of the window.

  —

  Eventually, after showing him the flat, the estate agent shuts up and leaves Geoff alone to look around for himself. He breathes a sigh of relief and stands there for a while, looking out of the window and trying to collect his thoughts. It’s nice. He’s on the third floor. There’s a balcony and below that gardens with palm trees and very green grass and a pool. The flat is just like he thought it would be: two bedrooms, living space, bathroom, kitchen. All very neat and clean and brand new.

  He wanders through the rooms. He turns on the kitchen tap, watches water swill down the plughole, then turns it off again. He opens the bedroom wardrobe, runs his hand along an empty shelf, closes it. He flushes the toilet. It performs as expected. He could live here, maybe use the rest of the money to buy a bar and serve cold beers to hot tourists. That was one idea, anyway. This place has a spare room too, so that when the dust has settled a bit and he thinks he can risk it, he could have his mam and dad to visit.

  He goes back out into the living room and feels the need to sit down, but of course there is no furniture. It occurs to him that he will need to fit out the flat himself. Then he realizes that he has absolutely no idea how to do that and immediately thinks of Laura.