“I’m fine, really. Everyone’s making a bit of a fuss, to be honest. It wasn’t as bad as it sounds. Are you okay, Mary? That must have been so worrying.”
Mary looked across the car park to where her son was being congratulated by some of the other men. Her face was hard to read. “It was. I don’t quite know what went on in there, do you?”
Clare shook her head. “Good news, though?”
Mary was still looking at Finn. “Yes, of course, good news,” she said. Her expression didn’t match her words. Then she seemed to suddenly remember where she was. “Will you come over for your tea? You can come tonight if you like. If you’re not busy. And it’ll save you having to bother cooking for yourself.”
“That’s very kind.” Clare fished around in her mind for an excuse not to go. But turning down the invitation would look rude. “Yes, thank you. That’s nice of you.”
Mary smiled. “Good. It won’t be anything very grand, not these days, but we all share what we have. It’s a funny thing, this strike, isn’t it? We’re all worried sick and no one has a penny. But it’s brought us all together, like never before.” She patted Clare’s arm. “There’s a good side to everything that happens, even if you can’t always see it.” Clare looked across the car park to see Joe watching. He shook his head. Clare turned away.
As soon as she spotted Finn, Clare went over to him. “Hey,” she said. “Well done. How’re you feeling?”
Finn shrugged. “Good, yeah.”
Clare waited, but Finn didn’t say anything else. “So what happened, exactly? How come everything got dropped?”
Finn shrugged again. “Lawyers. They can argue black is white.”
“Your mum asked me over for tea, did you know? Do you mind?”
“Why would I mind? She likes you. I like you.”
Clare knew that ‘tea’ was the old-fashioned use of the word, meaning a full meal. She felt guilty that Mary was stretching her already low funds to accommodate her but she also knew that it wouldn’t be expected that she should bring anything along; in fact, it would be seen as insulting. She was anxious about it, sensing that Finn had built up their relationship to his mother to be something a stage or two further along than it really was.
But Mary made her welcome, fussing around her at the table, which was set with a fiercely white tablecloth and the best china. It reminded Clare of her own parents when someone was coming round, when as a child she’d hardly dared sit at the formally-set table in case she spilled anything or ate something the wrong way.
Mary piled food onto Clare’s plate. “I could not believe it when Finn told me what happened to you over at Sweetmeadows. I said to Finn, what? That lovely girl? Being beaten up? Where the heck were you, that’s what I asked him.”
Clare smiled. “He was on a different mercy mission, that’s all. And I’m fine.”
“Eat up. You’re far too thin. Let’s get your strength back before they start slave-driving you on that newspaper again.”
Mary talked about the big day out they were planning for the miners’ kids. “We’re taking them down to the coast, and we’ve wangled free admission to the splash park. And then we’ve been promised fifty picnic lunches. They’re going to have such a good time, bless them. It’s all thanks to that big piece you did in the paper. We owe you a thank you.”
“I don’t suppose I could ask a favour then?”
“You can ask whatever you like.”
“Just say if this is a problem. But I know a little girl from Sweetmeadows. She’s not from a mining family but she’s got nothing, Mary. And she’s having a really tough time. I don’t suppose you could find a seat for her on your coach trip?”
Mary frowned. “That’s tricky. If we let in one kid who doesn’t have a link to the strike then we could get landed with dozens more.”
Clare nodded. “Yes, I understand. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position.”
“Well, now…” Mary got up and read down a list of names. “We have had a cancellation from a kid who’s got tonsillitis. I suppose we could pop her in his place and say it was all last minute.”
“Sure?” Clare gave Mary a grateful smile. “That’s so kind. I think she’ll be chuffed to bits when I tell her.”
“That’s a nice thing to do,” Finn commented. “I take it you mean that funny-looking little thing that’s always following you around.”
Clare smiled at him. “Your mum’s the kind one. I just asked a question. But thanks. At least you’re not telling me not to get so close to my stories.”
“I couldn’t really do that, could I?”
Once they were on their own, Clare tackled Finn. “Tell me this isn’t true. Joe says you warned him off me.”
Finn laughed. “He said that? And when was I supposed to have done this?”
“Last night. At closing time, outside The Ship.”
Finn shook his head. “We bumped into each other, sure. In fact, it was Ainsley who told me to back off. I did tell him to mind his own business and he didn’t look too happy with me.”
“That’s all that happened?”
“I swear.”
“Good.” Clare gave Finn a hug. “And I’m glad the case got dropped. I don’t think I could stand it if you’d been sent to prison.”
Finn said nothing for a few moments, but pulled her closer and buried his face in her hair. Clare breathed him in. “Come home with me.”
But a few minutes after they’d got to Clare’s flat, the doorbell rang. Clare peered out of the window to see Amy, with Tina. “I’m sorry, I’d better answer this.”
“We’ve been trying to find you for hours,” Tina said, accusingly.
“I’ve been out.”
“We guessed that. Can we come in?”
Clare held the door open and followed Amy and Tina into her living room. “What’s this about? Is everything okay, Amy?”
“No, it isn’t. There’s been a bit of bother.” Tina folded her arms and looked at Clare as a parent might look at a kid who was in trouble. She ignored Finn. “Some of the kids have started saying it was my Amy who grassed up the lads to the police.”
“Where’ve they got that from?”
“You tell me, but I’ve had Stevie’s mum banging on the door, asking if it’s true. And making threats.”
“Threats? Then you should…” Clare’s voice tailed off.
“What? Call the police?” Tina leaned forward. Finn put a hand on Clare’s shoulder. “This is your fault. I told Amy not to talk to the pigs, but you took her round there, didn’t you? And now look what’s happened.”
Clare held up her hands. “I’m sorry. But I didn’t tell anyone else. I don’t know how it’s leaked out.”
“These things always do.”
Clare looked at Amy, who was chewing on a strand of hair and staring at the floor. “You okay?”
Amy nodded. Clare wasn’t convinced. “What do you want me to do, Tina?”
“She’s not safe. Neither am I. I can go stay at Mickey’s but I can’t take her with me. She’ll have to stay with you for a bit.”
“What? She can’t stay here, Tina.”
“She’s still here, by the way,” Amy chipped in. “Why can’t I, anyway?”
“Why can’t you stay at Mickey’s?”
Clare thought she saw a look pass between Tina and Amy.
“She just can’t.” Tina rifled in her handbag. “Mind if I smoke?”
“Yes, I do. Wait till you get outside.”
Tina looked as if she’d like to slap Clare. “So, you’ll hang onto her for a bit, yeah? Till things die down.”
“But I can’t…”
“She needs to be safe, right? I can’t have her back at home with people banging on the door and shouting through the letterbox. And it’s all your fault, when it comes down to it.”
“I don’t think…”
“Clare,” Amy said. “Please. I won’t be any trouble. Let me stay.”
“But what about when I have to go back to work?”
“I’ll just stay here. I’ll watch telly or something. Please.”
Clare looked back at Tina, who seemed to be daring her to let Amy down. “How long do you think it’ll take? Before things die down, as you put it?”
“Couple of weeks. Tops.”
“A couple of weeks?”
Tina was already on her feet and pulling the cigarettes out of her bag, ready to light up as soon as she got out of Clare’s door.
“Hang on. What about your dog?”
“The woman next door’s going to look after the dog, don’t worry about that.”
That made things slightly more manageable, Clare thought. “Give me a number, where I can get hold of you. At Mickey’s.”
Tina scribbled a number down. She ruffled Amy on the head. “See you, kidder. Behave yourself, right? I don’t want any calls to say you’re in more trouble.”
Then she was out of the door.
Clare turned and looked at Amy, who was clutching a carrier bag. “Clothes, I suppose?”
Amy nodded. “And my Monopoly game.”
“You were expecting me to say yes, then. You mum sort of forced me into it, didn’t she?”
“Sorry. But I promise I won’t be a nuisance, Clare. Even when you go to work.”
“As a matter of fact, there is something you can do. I was going to come round and tell you about it. A bit of a treat.” And she told Amy about the coach trip.
Amy looked as if someone had floodlit her from the inside. “I’ve never been to the splash park. That’s so brilliant. Thanks, Clare.”
“Get an early night. Go on.”
Once Amy’s bedroom door was shut, Clare turned to Finn. “I’m sorry.”
Finn smiled. “I’m not sure how you’ve got yourself in this position, but I reckon it’s because you’re a nice person. I think that’s why I…” His voice tailed off.
Clare put her head on one side. “What?”
“Nothing. It’ll keep.”
After Finn left, Clare sat down, wondering what to do next. If Joe found out, she’d never hear the end of it. It was a good job Finn seemed to have inherited some of his mother’s soft-heartedness when it came to a kid who had nothing. Thoughts of him kept her going.
Friday 3rd August
The game of Monopoly had gone on for almost three hours, with a break to eat in between. Amy was a ruthless player and Clare would have been happy to let her win, but the dice kept her in the game. It was only interrupted at around nine, when there was a loud knocking on Clare’s door.
She peered out of the window. “Damn. It’s Joe. He’s going to give me such a hard time if he catches you here.”
Amy stood up. “I’ll go in my room until he’s gone. Don’t panic.”
“Thanks.” Clare threw a cardigan over the Monopoly board and went to answer the door.
“Thought you were going to keep me standing on the doorstep all night. With my injuries,” Joe grumbled.
Clare stared at his swollen nose. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I’ve decided,” Joe said, sounding slightly nasal, “that you and I are suffering too much for our art.”
“Stop it. Just tell me.”
“I got a tip-off that some of the Sweetmeadows miners were going a bit further afield today. Supporting the pickets down at Smithwood Colliery, to stop them getting the delivery lorries out. So I went out to see what was happening. And you’ll have seen it all on the news, by now, I suppose.”
“I haven’t watched the news today.”
“Really? You must be ill. There’s been a huge battle between the police and the picketers.” Joe looked at his watch. “You might catch a bit of it if you put the TV on now.”
Clare switched on to see scenes of police, some on horseback, some with riot shields, charging at rows of picketing miners. “It looks horrendous. Were many people hurt?”
“Dozens in hospital, about twenty arrests. It just sort of blew up. I couldn’t even work out what made it all kick off like that. But you need to know a couple of things. Finn McKenna was there. And he wasn’t on the picket line. I’ve no idea what he was up to but it was definitely something dodgy.”
Clare covered her face. “Not all this rubbish about Finn again.”
Joe shook his head. “You have to listen. Please.”
Clare sighed. “Come on then, let’s hear it.”
“There was a car parked not far from it all, with some men in caps and dark glasses. These guys just sat and watched everything going on and they had some sort of radios. I reckoned they were police, but not your average plod. Some sort of undercover thing, I don’t know.”
“And?” Clare glanced at her watch. She hoped Amy wouldn’t get fed up and burst into the room demanding to continue their game.
“I kept looking at them, to try to work out who they were and what they were up to. Then one of them rolled the car window down and beckoned me over. He asked me what I was doing, and I said I was just reporting. He said, hadn’t I seen enough? So I said no, I was planning to hang around a bit longer.”
“Yeah?” Clare was finding it hard to stay interested. “You are a bit paranoid when it comes to authority, though.”
“Listen. He grabbed hold of my shirt and pulled me towards the car window. Then he landed one on me. Right on the nose.” Joe touched his nose gingerly. “I’m amazed it isn’t broken. You should’ve seen the blood.”
“What’s this got to do with Finn?”
“He was in that car, Clare. He was sitting in the back. Yeah, he had a baseball cap pulled down low and dark glasses on, but it was definitely him. I reckon that’s why his mate gave me the bloody nose. On his instructions.”
“For god’s sake. What a load of rubbish. It probably wasn’t even Finn, just someone who looked a bit like him.”
“I swear it was him. I know, I’ve never liked him and I wish you weren’t seeing him, but I wouldn’t make this up, I promise.”
Clare stood up. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. You think it might’ve been Finn in some car with some undercover policemen and you think he told someone to lamp you for nothing. You have to admit it sounds ridiculous.”
“Don’t I get any sympathy here?”
“Sorry. I can give you a packet of paracetamol, if you like.”
“I was thinking more about a curry and a stiff drink?”
“Not tonight. I’m still a bit battered and bruised myself, remember. I was going to have an early night.”
Slowly, Joe heaved himself up. “It’s bad enough when we get called Cagney and Lacey. But we’re more like Laurel and Hardy these days, eh? Seriously, though. I’m starting to think McKenna is not all he says he is. Just how did those charges get dropped, eh, Clare? I bet he’s never explained it. Watch out for him.”
Amy bounced out of the bedroom as soon as she heard the front door close. “Come on. You have to land on my hotels sometime.”
Saturday 4th August
Clare watched as Amy lined up with the other kids to get onto the coach. “Anyone you know?”
Amy looked up and down the queue. “Yeah, some of the kids.”
“You’ll be okay?”
Amy nodded.
They’d had to dash out as soon as the shops opened to buy Amy a swimming costume. Clare had tried to get hold of Tina, but the phone number she’d left didn’t work. Clare suspected that was deliberate. “I don’t suppose you know where Mickey lives?”
Amy shook her head.
“Do you know his second name?”
Amy scowled. “Gitface, I’d guess.”
Clare shook her head. “Sometimes your language is worse than I hear from grown men in the pub. I’ve managed to get you this trip as a favour, so don’t show me up by swearing in front of everyone.”
Amy made a face that was meant to look innocent. “Promise I won’t.”
Clare went up to Mary and gave her a hug. “
Is Finn with you?”
Mary gave her a tight-lipped smile. “You haven’t heard from him, then? I was hoping he was with you.”
Clare shook her head. “Why?”
Mary sighed. “He’s done one of his disappearing acts. He does them from time to time. Just because he’s a grown man doesn’t mean I don’t worry about him.”
“Oh.” Clare felt her stomach clench a little. “So you haven’t seen him since…?”
“Yesterday morning.”
“Right.” Joe couldn’t be right, though. Finn was such a passionate strike supporter. “I’ll let you know if he calls, I promise.”
Mary looked at the queue of kids waiting restlessly to get on the coach. “He was a nuisance of a kid. Kind at heart, but he always did his own thing. We’ve been proud as punch since he came back to work for the union. But the older I get, the more I think your personality is set from a very young age. I bet I could make a few predictions about this lot here and how they’ll turn out.”
Clare looked at Amy, who was singing Jump at the top of her voice, with the younger kids jumping up and down on cue. I daren’t predict anything about you, she thought.
Clare got home to find her phone ringing and hoped that Amy hadn’t managed to disgrace herself before she’d even made it back to the flat. But it was Bob Seaton.
“I’ve been trying your office and getting no answer. Mr Ainsley told me you were having a couple of days at home. But there are some things I think I need to pass on to you. Can you call in?”
“Yes, I’m not doing anything in particular. Now?”
Clare couldn’t work out what was so important that it couldn’t wait until she came back from leave. Seaton made small talk until a secretary handed them the obligatory cups of tea, and then he asked her to close the office door.
“You’re rather fond of that kid you brought in the other day. Or so it seems to me.”
Clare tried to keep her facial expression as blank as possible. “She’s a sparky little thing. She’s interested in journalism. And, as you’ve said, the mother isn’t all that attentive.” Clare waited a moment and then said: “Why?”
Seaton didn’t answer directly. “That story you came in with the other day? What happened to Jason Craig and Steven Simpson when they were in custody? I’ve been looking into it.”
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