Exposed

by Roberta Kray

  With the light from the car headlamps, he could see the panic in her eyes. He had done enough to scare the hell out of her, but the rage was still inside him. Someone had to pay for all the shit he’d put up with today and why shouldn’t it be her? The tramp deserved it.

  ‘Please,’ she continued to plead. ‘I won’t do it again. I won’t. I swear it.’

  ‘What’s the matter with you? Are you deaf as well as stupid? What did I say? What did I just say?’ Vic slapped her again. ‘Just shut the fuck up!’ He swung her away from the wall and sent her sprawling down on to the muddy ground. Bending over, he grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her face into the dirt, into the wet soil and gravel and short stumpy weeds. She struggled for a while but then seemed to give up. A small mewling noise came from her mouth like the sound of a drowning kitten.

  46

  Eden sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her feet. She had worked two shifts at Connolly’s over the weekend and had the blisters on her heels to prove it. How many miles had she covered going back and forth to the counter? It felt like a hundred. Saturday afternoon had been so busy she’d barely had time to pause for breath. Still, at least it had kept her occupied and given her something to think about other than the meeting with Tom.

  There was no escaping those thoughts now, however. In less than a couple of hours she’d be at HMP Thornley Heath. Eden felt a fluttering, panicky sensation in her chest as if a trapped bird was desperately beating its wings against her ribcage. She was certain that when she returned from the prison everything would be different. As yet she didn’t know how or why, but she was certain the change was coming. Her world was about to undergo another shift and there was no good way of preparing for it.

  She stood up and opened the wardrobe doors. Since the fire, the dilemma of wondering what to wear no longer existed. Her choice was limited and it didn’t take long to make up her mind. She reached out and plucked a pair of black trousers and a pale grey jumper from their hangers.

  After changing, she went through to the kitchen and made a strong black coffee. It was almost lunchtime but she had no appetite. She had spent most of the morning going through the Archie Rudd press cuttings again, but hadn’t learned anything new. She drank the coffee standing by the living room window, looking down on the high street. Her gaze was drawn towards the door of the undertakers, where she almost expected to see Max Tamer. How long would it be before he came back? Tonight? Tomorrow? His words still echoed in her head: Ask him about Ann-Marie.

  The rain was easing off as Eden walked round to Violet Road where the car was parked. She stared for a moment at the long scratches on the paintwork, wondering if Tamer had been responsible. He’d been following her, that’s what he’d said, so he’d have known which car was hers. The thought of him tracking her every move was more than disturbing. What kind of a man did that? And why hadn’t she noticed? She looked up and down the road, wary and watchful. From now on she’d be paying more attention.

  As Eden drove towards Chingford, her eyes constantly flicked towards the rear-view mirror, taking in not just the car behind her but the cars behind that. Even though she knew Tamer was unlikely to be on her tail – he’d hardly have told her if he was planning to continue – she still couldn’t stop checking.

  During the journey, she tried to hold on to the slim and improbable hope that Tom’s news could be good rather than bad. Maybe a piece of evidence had finally come to light, something that put him in the clear, and he’d wanted to be the one to break the news to her rather than leaving it to Castor. What were the odds? Small, very small. But still she preferred to cling on to the chance than to let go completely and drown in fear and panic.

  Despite Eden’s best attempts to keep calm, the closer she got to the prison the more anxious she became. By the time she arrived she was struggling to keep her composure. There was a knot in her stomach, a sick feeling that wouldn’t go away. She parked the car, locked it, and took a deep breath before skirting back along the high stone wall and walking through the gate.

  The waiting room was quiet and there was no one in the queue. Monday clearly wasn’t a popular day for visiting. She went up to the counter and slid her driving licence through the gap in the reinforced glass.

  ‘Eden Chase,’ she said to the officer. ‘I’ve… er, I think I’ve got some kind of special visit?’

  He glanced at her ID, checked his book and looked back up. ‘Take a seat and someone will be over to collect you. You want a locker?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Eden paid the deposit, got her key and went to stash her coat and bag. Then she sat down and waited. There were seven other women in the room, but no one spoke to her. She stared at the wall, at the floor, at the ceiling. The time passed slowly. It was another ten minutes before a female officer finally turned up and called out her name.

  ‘Yes,’ Eden said, jumping to her feet.

  ‘This way.’

  Eden followed her through the usual door at the back. As she left, she was aware of the other women’s eyes on her, part curious, part disapproving at this blatant display of queue jumping. Inside the search area, she went through the usual procedure, too distracted to be even slightly bothered by the hands sliding quickly over her body. Her heart had started to beat faster. Her mouth had gone dry.

  She was escorted across the courtyard, but when they reached the other side, instead of going into the visiting room she was taken along a corridor to a door marked Legal Visits. The officer opened it, stood aside and waved Eden in.

  ‘You’ve got an hour.’

  Tom was already there. He stood up as she entered, but made no attempt to approach her. His face looked grey and drawn, as though he hadn’t slept for several nights.

  As she went over, Eden’s meagre hopes were already draining away. She stood on her toes and kissed him. His lips felt as dry as hers. Usually his arms would go around her, but not today. His body seemed stiff and unyielding. His hand briefly touched the back of her head before his arm dropped back to his side again.

  ‘How come we’re on our own?’ she asked.

  ‘Castor arranged it. Special circumstances.’

  ‘Is that another term for bad news?’

  Tom moved away from her and sat down. ‘Of a kind.’

  The room was small, furnished with three large chairs upholstered in a blue flecked material and arranged around a circular table. There was a window set high in the wall and a bright overhead light. She could see a square of grey through the window. A part of her wanted to run away right now, to turn her back on what was coming, to refuse to listen. If she didn’t hear it, it couldn’t be true. But she didn’t run. How could she? There was nowhere to go. Instead she sat down and looked at him. ‘Of a kind?’ she repeated dully.

  Tom placed his palms on his thighs and stared down at the floor for a moment. When he lifted his head, there was a tight, grim expression on his face. ‘There’s something you need to know before anything else. I haven’t lied to you about the robbery, about Paddy Lynch. I had nothing to do with that. I swear.’

  Eden felt relief wash over her. She almost said, ‘Of course not. I never doubted you,’ but it would have been a lie. It had been there in her mind, a terrible possibility. And this, surely, was the time for truth, for honesty. ‘So what is it?’

  Tom’s face twisted a little. She could see a small pulse beating in his temples, a prickle of sweat on his brow. He lifted his right hand as if he might be about to reach out and take hers. It hung in the air for a second but then dropped back on to his thigh. ‘Okay,’ he said, but then seemed unable to speak. A few seconds passed. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. ‘Okay,’ he said again. ‘There’s something I should have told you. I meant to but somehow… Look, what I didn’t mention is that I’ve been married before, a long time ago. When I was nineteen I got hitched to a girl called Jackie Blake.’

  Eden frowned, confused. ‘So why the big secret? Why didn’t you tell
me? It wouldn’t have made any difference.’

  ‘It’s what came later that makes the difference.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘We were… well, she was my first proper girlfriend, the first girl I’d slept with. Anyway, we’d been together about four months when she fell pregnant. She came from a staunch Catholic family so there wasn’t any question about what would happen next. We were marched straight up the aisle as soon as the banns could be read.’

  Eden drew in her breath, shocked. ‘You’ve got a child?’

  Tom shook his head. ‘No, she lost the baby a few weeks after we were married. If she hadn’t… I don’t know, I suppose I’d have tried harder, for the kid’s sake if nothing else. But once the honeymoon period was over, it was pretty clear we didn’t have much in common. Everything happened too quickly and by the time the dust settled we were stuck with trying to make the best of it.’

  ‘So how long did you stay together for?’

  ‘About five years. It was the small-town thing as much as anything else. I wanted some excitement. I wanted to get out there, travel, see the world, but Jackie was happy where she was. She liked being near her family and friends. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a nice girl, decent; we were just… incompatible. We wanted different things.’

  Eden still wasn’t sure where all this was leading. ‘So you left her?’

  ‘Not exactly. I got a job here in London, in a camera shop on Tottenham Court Road. Close to where Denny’s place is now, as it happens, although he wasn’t around back then. The idea was that once I was settled, she’d come down and join me, give it a go and see how she liked it. Except she never did – give it a proper go, that is. She spent a couple of weeks here, decided the big city wasn’t for her and went back home.’

  Eden shifted in the chair, wanting to urge him on, wanting to beg him to get to the point. She knew he hadn’t brought her here to discuss a failed first marriage. There was something else, something much worse, waiting in the sidelines. She didn’t want to hear it, but she had to. She wanted it over and done with. The suspense was killing her. ‘Where’s all this going, Tom?’

  He leaned forward, rubbing his face with his hands. ‘Okay, well you know most of the next part. I didn’t stay long at the camera shop. I travelled around the south coast in the summer months, taking pictures, working in bars. Then during the winter I came back to London. In 1967 I bought a ferry ticket, went over to France and started working my way through Europe. That’s how I ended up in Budapest. That’s how I met Jack Minter.’ He left a short pause, cleared his throat. ‘Although he wasn’t using that name at the time.’

  ‘What was he calling himself?’

  There was another hesitation, an intake of breath. ‘He was going under the name of Tom Chase.’

  Eden gave a start. ‘What?’ She stared at him, bewildered. ‘How could he be? I don’t understand. I mean, it doesn’t… How could he have been using your name?’

  ‘But that’s the point, Eden – it wasn’t mine. It never was. I stole it from him.’

  47

  Eden felt as though all the breath had been sucked from her lungs. While her brain tried to process the information, she stared at Tom, dumbstruck. Her heart started pounding, a fast heavy thump. This couldn’t be happening. She traced his face with her eyes, examining everything that had once seemed so familiar. But her husband has ceased to be the same person. Everything she’d believed to be true had suddenly been turned on its head. Out of the blue, he’d become a stranger to her.

  ‘I did something stupid,’ he said. ‘I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I’d like to explain.’

  ‘Tom Chase isn’t your real name,’ she said, finally finding her voice.

  He shook his head. ‘Laurence. That was the name I was christened with. Larry to my friends, Larry Hewitt.’

  Eden ran her tongue over her dry lips. ‘Larry,’ she murmured.

  ‘It’s a long story.’

  Eden waited. She kept her gaze on him, feeling her guts turn over. She wanted time to stop, to rewind, to go back to that bright February morning when she crossed the Covent Garden piazza on her way to the studio. Nothing that had happened since then had been good. And now it was about to get a whole lot worse.

  ‘It was when I was living with Jack – I’ll keep on calling him that for now – in Budapest. I’d been there about three months when Jack went out one morning and didn’t come back. I wasn’t worried. Sometimes he’d disappear for days at a time. I just presumed he’d met some mates or a girl and that he’d turn up again when he got bored of whatever he was doing.’

  Eden’s hands moved restlessly in her lap. She listened, letting the words wash over her. Tom looked at her and she nodded, encouraging him to go on. The story had to be told and she had no choice but to hear it.

  ‘Anyway, I was in the flat the following morning when the bell rang. I went to answer the door and there were two police officers standing there. One of them spoke some English and he asked if this was Larry Hewitt’s address.’ A long sigh escaped from Tom’s mouth. ‘To be honest, I panicked. The day before I’d been taking pictures near some government buildings and I thought I might have been reported. Back then, there was a mass of paranoia, a lot of activity by the secret police. It was the Cold War and foreigners, especially ones with cameras, weren’t exactly trusted. So I said the first stupid thing that came into my head: I told them Larry was out. They asked me who I was and I came out with the first name I thought of: Tom Chase.’

  Tom gazed down at his shoes. It was a few seconds before he continued. ‘And then they told me something awful. They said a body had been recovered from the river and they believed it was Larry’s. They wanted me to go with them to the morgue and identify the corpse. I asked why they thought it was him and they said they’d found some papers with his name and address in a rucksack left on the bank. I knew then it was Jack. It had to be. He’d borrowed my rucksack the day before and the papers must have been in one of the pockets.’

  ‘So Jack Minter’s dead?’

  Tom glanced at her and nodded. ‘Yes, it was him. They didn’t know exactly what had happened. There was some damage to the back of his head, but it could have been caused by a fall before he went into the water. The path was icy, slippery. I couldn’t take it in at first, seeing him lying there. It didn’t seem possible. He was one of those people who… he was always full of life, full of plans and now… It was awful, shocking. I couldn’t believe he was gone.’

  Eden saw the distress on his face. Instinctively, she wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but she fought against the urge and her hands remained in her lap. ‘So you went ahead and identified him as Larry Hewitt?’

  ‘I didn’t know what else to do. I’d already lied to the police about who I was. I was scared, shaken up. I just wanted to get out of that place, but the questions went on and on. They wanted to know what he did, how he lived, about his family, who to contact, and I told them there was no one. They wanted to know if his passport was in the flat. I said I’d look for it, but that he usually carried it around with him. I couldn’t hand it over, could I? Not with the wrong picture on it. I was hoping they’d think it had been stolen from the rucksack.’ Tom gave a hollow laugh. ‘All the time I was just digging a bigger and bigger hole for myself. But I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know how. By the time I got back to Garay Square, my only thought was to make a run for it, pick up my stuff and get the first train out of there. I even started to pack, but then I realised that could be an even worse mistake. It would make me look suspicious, guilty even. What if they arrested me? And then found out I’d lied about a dead man’s identity? I could spend the next twenty years in a Hungarian jail. If I was going to get out of Budapest, I had to come up with a better idea.’

  Eden could see how he’d got in a fix, could even understand why he’d done what he’d done, but that didn’t explain why he’d kept it from her. ‘So what next?’

  ‘I did the only thing I could – I bra
zened it out. I looked in Jack’s room and found his passport. Well, two passports, in fact. He had one in the name of Tom Chase, another in the name of Jack Minter. There was a birth certificate for Tom as well. I was worried the police might search the flat so I destroyed all the passports, mine included. I burned them in the sink. And then I went to the British Embassy, introduced myself as Tom Chase, told them about the death of “Larry Hewitt”, and asked for their help in sorting things out. I said that both our passports had gone missing from the borrowed rucksack and I had no way of getting home to England.’

  ‘That must have taken some nerve,’ Eden said.

  ‘I was shit scared, to be honest. I was sure they’d see right through me – or it would turn out someone there had known the real Tom Chase. It was a gamble. But I was more afraid of the police than I was of them. I reckoned if the worst came to the worst, I could come clean and explain who I really was. But I think they took my nerves for shock. I used the details from the birth certificate to fill in a form for a temporary passport.