by G H Mockford
‘Are you decent? I’m coming in.’
Before Stephen had a chance to answer, Annie was already half way through the door.
‘How’s your head?’ she asked.
‘Painful.’
‘Cliff left you a glass of water. I guess you’ve only just woken up. Anyway, here’s a cup of tea and some painkillers.’
‘What happened?’
‘You don’t remember?’ Annie said as she placed the bone china cup and saucer on the bedside table. ‘Cliff’s making you a fry up. He’ll tell you all. I’ll just say the police arrived and people were dragged off. You managed to spend the night here rather than in a cell. I was already in bed by the time you two started drinking. Never, and I mean never, get into a drinking competition with a pub landlord.’
Annie left the room and her laughter died away as Stephen drank the lukewarm water and took the pills.
He went back to exploring the room with his eyes. His clothes were folded on the back of a chair, which looked like it came straight from a Laura Ashley showroom or an Ideal Homes catalogue. There was also a towel. The chair was placed next to an open door, through which Stephen could see an en-suite bathroom. Climbing out of bed, Stephen decided to make use of the facilities.
The shower was fantastic. It was like nothing Stephen had ever experienced. Water came out of the walls as well as from above. It was hot and powerful. Most importantly, he didn’t have to clean it before he used it like he did as his house share.
Stephen took the bottle of Lauren Mercier’s Crème Brulee body wash off the shelf. It was either cheap from Lidl or expensive and from Harrods. He’d no way of knowing. Its sweet, creamy scent drifted up his nose as he added it to the balled up net thing he assumed was used to wipe it over his body.
Once he got out, he looked in the mirror. His face wasn’t as bruised as he feared it would be. He did need to shave though. Maybe he should leave the facial hair to help cover up the battle scars. Stephen left the bathroom, got dressed and followed his ears and nose towards the sound and smell of frying bacon.
‘Morning. Have a seat,’ Cliff said from the cooker, fish slice in one hand, frying pan handle in the other. ‘There’s coffee on the table.’
Stephen sat down at the kitchen table and poured a cup of coffee from the cafetiere. In all the years he’d known Cliff and Annie, they’d never invited him upstairs. Stephen had to admit he was surprised by what he saw. He would never have guessed Annie would choose to live like this. The whole house, while the décor may not have been to everyone’s taste, smacked of care, love, and, most importantly, money, even if it were a bit chintzy
‘A fry up’s just the thing you need,’ Cliff said as he went about his cooking.
‘Are you sure about that?’ Stephen said, breathing deeply through his mouth in an attempt to stop the smells assaulting his nose and making him feel nauseous.
Annie rushed into the kitchen, headed straight to the hob and flicked a switch on the brushed steel hood. ‘What have I told you about having the extractor fan on when you’re cooking?’
‘It’s called teamwork, love. You tell me, I forget. I don’t do it, you do it. Perfect,’ Cliff said, flashing his most charming smile at his wife.
Annie playfully slapped her husband on the arm and joined Stephen at the table. ‘Sleep well?’
‘I don’t remember, so I guess I slept brilliantly. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. But don’t make a habit of it,’ she added in her usual gruff manner. ‘We could hardly turf you out onto the street after what happened. Someone might have mistaken you for a tram–’ Annie hastily added her apologies.
Stephen waved her off and drank his coffee.
Two plates loaded with bacon, sausage, beans, tomato and fried bread landed on the table. Cliff returned a moment later and sat down with a third. ‘Eat up,’ he said, and without another word, went to work with his fork.
‘We’ve guests, Cliff,’ Annie said, admonishing her husband. He picked up his knife.
Stephen sat and stared at his food, bracing himself.
‘You smell nice,’ Cliff said to Stephen as he folded a piece of bacon up, stabbed his fork into it and shoveled it into his mouth in one go.
‘I just used what was in the shower. I hope that was all right.’
‘That’s why it’s there,’ Annie answered.
Silence descended as they ate until finally Stephen couldn’t take it anymore and said, ‘Look, is someone going to tell me what happened last night,
Stephen watched as Cliff and Annie eyed each other.
A huge sigh escaped Cliff’s lips. ‘You told me to show you something.’ The landlord stood and reached into the pocket of his high-waisted tweed trousers. He placed his mobile phone on the table.
‘What?’ Stephen asked.
‘Once we cleared up and the police had gone, we sat back down and continued our conversation.’
‘About?’ Stephen asked even though he was certain he knew.
‘Felicity and Edward, and this new girl, Georgia. We talked through some of the things we’d already discussed. In the end, you made a decision. We videoed it because we were going to drink – a lot! Your decision, not mine.’
‘But I don’t drink.’
‘I know, and so do you, which is why you made the video before you started.’ Cliff fiddled with his phone and handed it over to Stephen. He saw an image of himself with the familiar play icon on his chest. He pressed it.
‘Hello, Stephen. This is weird talking about myself in the third person,’ came Stephen’s voice from the telephone’s speaker.
From off camera Cliff said, ‘Just do it.’
‘Stephen, this is Stephen. On reflection, I’ve decided to move on with my life. Honest.’
Then the angle shifted and showed an empty table, except for one pint glass with the dregs of Castle Rock bitter in the bottom. ‘That’ll be mine,’ came Cliff’s voice and then a hand came into the shot and swiped the remains of the drink away.
‘For ten years I’ve searched for Felicity. I’m sure she’d be happy with my dedication. There’s only so long you can carry guilt around.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ Cliff said. ‘She intended to run away. There was–’
‘So, as of now I’m giving up. I’ve my own life to lead. My own dreams to follow. I’m sorry, Felicity. I hope to see you again one day.’
‘And this Georgia and Edward. What about them?’ Cliff asked from off camera.
‘I’ll call the number on the Facebook post about her and tell them what I know. Then I’ll walk away. I promise. As for Edward. I’ll have to hope the hospital have taken care of him.’
The video stopped and Stephen put the phone down. A tear rolled down his cheek.
‘Once we shot that, you said you wanted a drink. The rest is history.’
‘I don’t remember it,’ Stephen said, challenging the video. ‘I can change my mind. I can’t just walk away.’
‘Stephen,’ Cliff said, shaking his head. ‘It’s time to let it go. It’s time to rebuild your bridges – if you pardon the pun — and speak to your parents. Don’t you think you’ve all suffered enough?’
‘Isn’t that what you said to me the other day?’
‘Yes. And I say it again now. Stephen, you made a decision. A sober one, I might add. I say you should stick to it.’
‘And I say I can change my mind.’
‘Stephen, this will be the death of you. Please, I know how all this has affected you better than anyone.’
‘You know nothing,’ Stephen hissed as he rose to his feet. ‘Nothing about me, and nothing about my sister.’
Stephen stormed out the door. It wasn’t until he was on the landing that he realized he didn’t have a clue how to get out of the apartment.
From behind him there was a creak of a floorboard and the next thing he knew, Stephen was in Cliff’s arms, crying.
An hour later, Stephen left The Manor knowing the version of himself who
had made the video had made the right decision. Once the tears came, and Annie joined them in the living room, everything came out.
It was time to start living for himself. No more library. No more Facebook.
‘Now, go home and relax. Maybe ring your mother,’ Cliff said as he showed him out the door.
‘And don’t think any of this changes the way I feel about you,’ Annie added.
Stephen was sure he saw her smile as he walked to his bike.
Fourteen
Stephen headed straight for Manor Park library. He stood outside for a few minutes looking at the old building and wondered if he would ever return again once he’d done what he came here to do.
Exhaling, he ran up the steps and into the building, Michael’s homemade protector and precious pictures in his hand.
The building was dead, as usual.
The librarian smiled at Stephen as he entered. ‘You’re early for your slot, but I’m sure there’s a free computer.’
Stephen nodded, smiled his thanks, and went to the secluded corner. Within moments of sitting down, he was logged into the system and signing into Facebook. He didn’t bother with the timer. He wouldn’t need to share out his minutes anymore.
It took quite a lot of scrolling before he found the post he wanted. The dark haired girl stared back at him. Stephen slipped the drawing out of the cereal box protector. Michael had drawn an amazingly accurate picture of her. Hair in a bob. Her long nose. Thin lips. He must have one hell of a memory as well as talent.
Georgia had only been missing for two weeks. They must have felt like a lifetime to her parents. The post gave a phone number. It wasn’t the police. Some people gave out their own number, but most didn’t. Some members of the public liked to make prank calls.
Stephen took his Nokia out of his pocket and waited for it to turn on. When it was ready, he took a deep breath and typed in the mobile phone number on the screen ready to use later. Each beep from the keypad seemed loud and intrusive in the empty building.
Logging out of the system, Stephen left the library and hit the dial button as soon as he was back at his bike. The droning tone seemed long and hollow in his ear.
In a moment of panic, Stephen hung up. What the hell was he going to say to the person on the other end? It wasn’t like he’d not done this countless numbers of times. How many families had he reunited? So why was he feeling so anxious about this one?
The phone vibrated and rang in his hand. Stephen stared at the screen for a moment. Whoever he’d just called was ringing him back. ‘Hello,’ Stephen answered.
‘Hello,’ said a man’s voice from the other end. ‘You rang me?’
‘Yeah. Yeah, I did.’
Silence hung in the air for a moment, then the man spoke again. ‘Talk to me, or I’ll hang up and bar this number.’
‘Sorry, I’m sorry,’ Stephen said. ‘I’m ringing about Georgia.’
‘I know. This phone’s just for calls from the adverts. What about her?’
‘I’ve seen her,’ Stephen said, bending the truth slightly.
‘Really?’ It was said in such a dead tone, Stephen couldn’t tell if he was asking or disbelieving.
‘It was a few days ago now.’
‘Where?’
‘Manor Bay Bridge.’
‘Why did you leave it so long to call?’
‘I only just found your advert.’
‘Are you sure now? I don’t want to get my wife’s hopes up.’
‘Well,’ Stephen started, suddenly feeling awkward. ‘I’ve not seen her since.’
‘Would you be prepared to meet me?’
‘I guess. What for?’
‘I want to be sure you’re not lying.’
‘Why would I lie?’
‘There’s a lot of sick people out there. They like to live off of other people’s suffering.’
‘I can assure you, I’m not one of them.’ Stephen was about to explain about his past but thought better of it. It was none of this fellow’s business.
‘I work near Nottingham. I have lunch in…’ There was a pause and Stephen imagined the man was either looking at his watch or a clock on his wall. ‘I can meet you in town in a little over an hour and a half. See you at the Lions?’
‘Sure,’ Stephen said. He could easily get to the magnificent Council House in Nottingham’s Market Square. Two statues of lions protected the building. They were a famous landmark and popular meeting point. ‘I’ll have a bike with me.’
‘See you there. Don’t be late.’
The phone went dead and Stephen was left with an unshakable feeling that he’d heard the voice before.
Fifteen
Stephen looked at the clock on the domed Council House. It had gone one o’clock and he’d been waiting by the Lions for over an hour. There was no mistaking the man’s intended meeting place.
More than once Stephen checked his phone for messages or missed calls, even though he already knew from the lack of tones that there weren’t any.
The Market Square had grown busy over the lunch period. Once the time for food breaks was past, the stone and water fountained area began to empty until the usual collection of lay about and weirdos were all that remained. Even the delights of the semi-permanent European market with its array of food and gifts didn’t grab people’s attention or money.
Stephen decided it was time to give up. Either the man had been held up and was late or he’d changed his mind. He already had the information he needed and there wasn’t much more Stephen could tell him. Georgia’s father hadn’t sounded particularly friendly or grateful for the information, either. Perhaps he’d decided it was a waste of time to meet Stephen. Nice of him to let him know.
Stephen began to move off, and for a brief moment he fancied looking through the market, but his bike and lack of money rendered the idea a bit pointless. Instead, he headed for Hockley and down through the fashionable bars and restaurants. Then he cut through the lace market and past St. Mary’s church. In a nearby apartment, a woman was said to have survived a vicious attack by a serial killer the media had dubbed ‘The Wolf-Man’.
Skirting the edge of Sneinton, Stephen entered Manor Park. With two hours still to go before he was due to start work, he headed to the pub.
Annie glared at him as he walked through the front door and then looked across at a booth. Stephen followed her line of sight.
Detective Constable Chambers was sat there with a pint of lemonade. She was wearing leather trousers, boots and a plain black tee shirt. Her hair was braided again.
‘Good afternoon, Detective,’ Stephen said, stepping up to her. ‘Interesting look you’ve got there.’
‘I’m off duty. I was on my way home but I wanted to see you.’
Stephen glanced over at Annie. Cliff, who had his eyes wide like an idiot and was nodding furiously, had joined her. The married couple leaned on the bar watching, and not very subtlety.
‘I heard some of the uniforms talking about a fight down here last night.’
‘Yeah,’ Stephen nodded. ‘Someone attacked an elderly man because he happened to get in the way.’
‘I heard you stepped in.’
‘I helped out, yeah. We have the responsibility to keep customers safe.’
‘And to stop people drinking when they’ve had enough,’ she added with a slightly accusing tone. ‘Was the attacker drunk?’
‘No,’ Stephen said a little too quickly. ‘He just wasn’t a pleasant person. He was barred and he’d not been in for months. He’d grown a beard, changed his hairstyle and his girlfriend. None of us recognized him.’
Chambers smiled, but Stephen couldn’t work out why. ‘Did you serve him?’
‘I did, yes.’
‘So you weren’t remiss in your duties?’
‘I wouldn’t say so, no.’
‘So the fact you took physical action wasn’t a reflection of any guilt you may have felt at allowing the attack to happen in the first place?’
; ‘Not at all. It was my reaction as a decent human being. It was an unprovoked, and an unwarranted, attack. I was merely doing the right thing.’
‘That sometimes feels like a rare thing these days,’ Chambers said, her tone softening.
‘How long have you been a police officer?’ Stephen asked, glad of the opportunity to change the subject.
‘I joined just before the riots. Just before the cuts. Two-thousand and eight.’
‘There was a riot in Nottingham in fifty-eight too,’ Stephen added. ‘Two weeks before the famous Notting Hill one in London. Same causes.’
‘Thanks for that,’ Chambers interrupted. ‘Now let’s get back to my questions.’
‘Am I in trouble? I told the officers who arrived what happened. They seemed happy.’
‘I’m just interested. You have a habit of turning up right where the trouble is.’
‘What can I say? I’m a local hero,’ Stephen smiled.
‘We don’t need vigilantes on the streets, Mr Bridges.’
‘Don’t worry. I don’t have a cape and bright red pants under this,’ Stephen said, indicating his clothes with his fingertips.
‘This isn’t a joking matter, Mr Bridges.’
‘Of course not, DC Chambers.’
‘There’s one more thing. I’ve been told to order you to let the issue with Edward Atkins go.’
‘Order me?’ Stephen said, raising his eyebrows.
‘Yes.’
‘Because?’
‘I can’t say. Just keep away. You’ll be doing me a favour, and Edward.’ Chambers started to turn away. ‘I hope I won’t be seeing you again.’ She held Stephen’s gaze for a moment and left.
A loud clap came from behind the bar. Stephen looked across and saw Cliff rubbing his hands together. ‘That look she gave you, she’s keen on you.’ The landlord crossed the empty lounge and looked out of the window and into the car park.
‘What are you looking at?’ Stephen asked.
‘Get your arse over here and you’ll find out.’
Stephen left the booth and joined the landlord.