He nods like his head is a heavy object to shift.
“I want to know,” I reiterate. “I want to be here for you. Like you were there for me.”
He bites his lip and lays back in the cushions. “I really, really love you babe.”
“I really love you, Ricky.”
I pout and gesticulate that the gates are wide open for him to speak.
“Okay.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Warrick
“Six years ago now I left the Force, not just physically. I was done with it in my mind too. I was so done. Then, this thing came up. It came up ages ago but at first, I refused to take part.
“You know, I was done with police work. I’ve told you that so many times. But my old super Ronnie came by my office one night and told me he had something hot. It seemed like the perfect scenario that I should come in on it, he said. He tried to entice me with money. I said no. He said it would be off the record. Off the books. Special budget nobody knows about.
“Thing is, I was so good at playing other characters. Don’t know why. Maybe it got me out of my own head or my world.
“Anyways, he said that he wanted me on this case. He said there was a suspected paedophile ring in this area, just moved in from some other city. I didn’t understand what he was getting at, at first. How could I help? I mean, I was in the Force. But by then, I was definitely out. Both in my own head and otherwise. I was done being a copper. It had wrecked my marriage. I’d washed my hands of it all. I was a social worker then and that was me. I was happy with that.
“He sat me down, he said two words. Two words… Uncle Jakey. That’s his domain name, you know?”
She nods with a fear in her eye that I was hoping to avoid.
“He was one of them I’d heard of in the job, while I was in it I mean. A notorious paedophile very hard to catch. Kind of a hacker type, with lots of ways of worming out of being caught. Moving all over the country, shifting about whenever the heat got too much in one place or another. He can hack his way out all he likes, he still has to have people he can trust to get him the material. Not even in this day and age can you exist totally online.
“One day they trace his PC and catch him uploading a ton of photos to his cronies. Ronnie and the gang catch the cronies but Kerrick is clever enough to switch off before we trace him. However, Ronnie gets a small hit before he goes down. It’s weak but definitely in the area of the Avenue. Our Avenue, Jules.
“So, we know that. We put out a call to any PCSOs and officers in the area to keep a close watch and a disturbance of the peace draws lucky. A large man, carrying three laptops, is flustered and annoyed when some guy bumps into him and an altercation breaks out. Fat dude was obviously in a rush. It’s not written up as such but the PCSO who was there at the scene told Ronnie there was something about the guy. You know, that kind of feeling you get when you know there is something not right about them. She’d taken down his name in her notebook, one Jacob Kerrick. We do some checks and he’s clean. But on closer inspection, he’s a volunteer community worker and he is carrying three laptops! He has two addresses and we’re not sure which is his. One’s a villa mansion on the park and the other is a terrace on the Avenue. Both rented out. How the man has two homes on a volunteer job… who knows? So we don’t know where he lives.
“Ronnie comes to me. Tells me the story. I say I vaguely know of Kerrick through my social work. Hey presto, he begs me to join. We need solid evidence. We’re working on a hunch, but we think he’s Uncle Jakey for sure, so Ronnie says. I am tempted but I tell him no, no, no, all the time. I can’t compromise the job I have been put in charge of doing.
“But one day, one day, I am with this woman of mine. You. Jules, you. She cuts open her heart right in front of me and I see her pain when she tells her daddy that he was never there, never cared, wasn’t there to listen. I watch you and see your strength and what you’ve been through and it reminds me of everything I had forgotten about.
“I forgot why I became a policeman in the first place. It wasn’t Anna. Well, it was and it wasn’t. It was me. I used to love the job until my life crumbled around me because of it. In the early days, I did the job because I was part of the community and I was helping people. I was sometimes helping those who cannot help themselves and that alone made the long hours and some thankless members of the public more tolerable. There are people not strong enough to help themselves and we need to.
“That’s why I am always at events or late-night soup kitchens because he’s there too, hanging about to see if he can catch his next victims. If it’s him, he’s possibly been preying on kids, you know. In this area.
“I am so close now because I think I’ve convinced him I want in. He’ll have been checking up on me. He will need safety nets. I know he deals with some dangerous people I wouldn’t want to cross. He doesn’t seem to realise I was once a copper, or if he does, he doesn’t care. He’d not care about my social work either. Probably thinks everyone is as low down and filthy as him.
“You see, when you’re living like this Jules, you are about ten or twelve or thirty different people at once and you have to be so careful about what you say and who you say it to. So I barely sleep with the worry and the tactics I have been changing constantly to try and worm my way inside this bastard’s den.
“I guess when I met you I was playing the guy I’d been playing in the job before. Kind of nothing stand-out. Blending in. Not forcing myself or my questions on people. When really, this is the real me, the hero if you like. I was a copper, always a copper. Thank God because I may never have noticed you that day looking out of place and scared. Yes, I thought you were scared. Something told me that you didn’t look alright that day.”
She takes my hand and squeezes it, her face blazing with shock.
“This guy is a huge catch for us, Jules. Huge. I guess when I started on the case, I didn’t expect what I would be forced to deal with. Some of the images got to me and I went home one night and trashed my house. It all got to me. Dad knows nothing about this work. He can never know what his son has been put through.
“Consider all I have had to give to the job and the nothing I have gotten in return. I love the job, or rather loved it, but I know once this is done I can’t ever really go back. So when I’ve caught Uncle Jakey, I guess I shall be done, once and for all. One of the biggest fish to fry. Of course, this won’t go public. It’ll be done quiet. All cases dealt with.
“I am feeling the pressure and it weighs so heavily sometimes. So when I come home and make love to you, and I seem desperate, it’s because I am. I need you to keep me going. I would have given up ages ago if it wasn’t for you turning up in my life and reminding me why I do this job. To help those who can’t help themselves.
“I love how strong you are Jules and if only you could see for yourself. You’re a stubborn mule and it’s kept you going, kept you alive, and I love you so much for it.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Jules
When he finishes, I sit back with some relief. I process everything and there is only one thing to do in response. I move on my knees to cross the sofa and I sit in his lap. His hands slide the bottom of my robe up to stroke my thighs and I hold his cheeks.
“Don’t hold back, not ever again. Tell me everything. From now on, I want to be your rock.”
I run my hands around his waist and drag his scruffy t-shirt over his head. We’re in a tight hold within no time; his joggers and my robe dispensed with. I make love to him and show him what he means to be.
When we’re in ecstasy, he begs, “Why me?”
We cry out together and gain our release in unison. My nose is pushed up against his. My eyes bore into Warrick’s and his are full of emotion, pinched tight at the corners in disbelief.
His hands trail all over my back and I rest my forehead on his shoulder.
“You’re extremely beautiful, Jules. You could have anyone.”
“Why not you? I cannot
think of a single other person I’d rather be with now, tomorrow and forever.”
He smiles, his dimples furrow and I love him more. Each day our desire deepens and matures. He plants such a gentle kiss on my breast and groans. We hold each other so tight and I ask him to walk me back to bed.
He carries me upstairs and I rest in his nook while he does, holding his back and rubbing my cheeks against his skin.
We fall into bed and burrow under the covers.
“When it’s all over, shall we set a date? Shall we travel for a month or two for our honeymoon?”
“We shall,” he says absentmindedly, holding and stroking my hair.
“There is something that has been bothering me and I hadn’t mentioned it because I was worried about you, but I want to now…” I begin.
He jolts up, “Are you pregnant?”
“No, no,” I reassure him.
“Phew,” he sighs. “Not yet, Jules. I want more of you yet before our babies take you from me.”
I tighten my grip around his neck and kiss his chest, nuzzling and burrowing until I feel too heavy with heartache to hold myself over him any longer. I rest on his chest and stroke his stomach, poke his belly button and crawl my nails through his body hair.
“What are you after?”
He reads me so well.
“I have something I need your help with, babes,” I mirror the term he always uses for me.
“Babes? It must be something big.”
“Tis,” I say, biting my thumb.
“Spew,” he beckons me.
“Do you remember,” I begin in a soft voice, “my star student? Remember? Romeo and Juliet?”
“I remember dear,” he mimics me.
“Well,” I hesitate. Saying it might make it real. I am reluctant, but it has been a day of revelations and I feel it is the time for it. But then…
“You’re frightening me, Jules, tell me baby,” he says, turning over to look down on me.
I feel my face scrunch up involuntarily and prickly heat spreads across my cheeks. Tears burn and threaten. I manage to splutter, “I have this horrid feeling she is being bullied. A really, horrid feeling.”
He wraps himself around me and kisses my face all over to soothe me. I love his affection. I could live on it.
“What do you want me to do? I may be a hero but I am not a fairy godmother able to wave a magic wand. We know these things are delicate… difficult.”
“I know, Rick.” I hide and burrow in his chest hair and cling to it. “Hold me tight.”
I take some deep breaths and steal the warmth of his body.
“I never told anyone and the people who bullied me got away with it. I might have told my dad but he was just such a useless human being. He would have brushed it off or worse, made a joke out of it, the way he was back then.”
“I ought to have thumped him,” he says protectively.
“Mmm, I know, darling.”
I cling to Warrick’s body. When we are naked and embraced like this, nothing can touch us. Nothing can break what we share here, hidden in each other’s arms, in our house.
“It was difficult, you know. Girls used to ask me how often I washed my hair because it got greasy when dad forgot to buy shampoo. I had one pair of shorts for gym that got so threadbare. I was a target, an easy one. No mother. Shit father who was the talk of the town for his benefit cheating ways and his philandering.”
Warrick holds me so tight, I am squashed against him now.
“I can deal with it all now I say it back. I can. It’s not so bad, really Rick. Not really. It made me so strong, you see. I was always so determined to get out and get myself up in the world.”
“I fucking love the bones off you, wench.”
We snuggle in silence for a bit longer until his grip relents and he’s stroking my hair round my ear again.
“I fear this is much worse. She’s changed. Gone into herself. Very noticeably. It’s psychological for sure. It’s going to be difficult to tackle.”
“Why?”
“I think I know the abuser,” I reveal.
“Oh.”
“I want you to come into our school and talk about bullying. I need you to do that for me, if you have a few minutes spare one day?”
“Yes, okay. I can do that.”
He looks into space and bites his nails, thinking.
“You will?”
“Yes, might kill two birds…”
“Eh?”
I see excitement in his eyes. Oh boy…
“Someone, somewhere, is bound to know something about Uncle Jakey that might incriminate him. Somebody might know somebody… you know. Something! It’s worth a shot!”
I sigh and roll over, burying my head in the sheets and pillows. I grumble under my breath and he asks what’s the matter.
“I now know how Lois Lane must have felt. Sharing her superhero with the world and having to listen to his outlandish plans to save it.”
He roars with laughter and falls down next to me. He draws me tight into his embrace and spoons me, kissing my shoulder and my neck.
“All you need to worry about is how you are going to pretend to the entire school that you’re not desperately in love with me. Ridiculously. Off the charts. Head over heels. Utterly done for. One hundred per cent taken. Off the shelf and mine to love and cherish forever.”
“I’ll manage somehow,” I mutter, “I told them that a spy gave me this ring. He’s out of the country a lot, I told them.”
I flash my sapphire and he scoffs.
“They loved it. Thought it was hilarious. I never tell them anything about my real life.”
“Never?”
“Nope. I am not that sort of teacher. I never ingratiate myself. Prefer to spin some yarns that might agitate their imaginations, you know? Thought you would have realised that by now?”
“This could certainly work to our advantage,” he guffaws, and rolls me toward him.
He growls and burrows into my breasts and puts on a voice that he thinks resembles mine, play acting, “Everyone, today my spy boyfriend is going to teach you all about avoiding the big, bad mother fuckers of the world only out to screw you over. Lesson number one, avoid men who stroke cats…”
We laugh, joke, and play fight. But there is a moment where remembrance stings my heart and my face must show it. There is evil and suffering all around us, and we can no longer ignore it.
He knows just when to hold me, or stroke my hair, and when the mood takes us, to love me like he has never loved before.
Chapter Forty-Four
Warrick
A week later…
In assembly, Jack waves me onto the stage and I stand in front of 200 pupils. He’s already explained to them who I am and what I am doing in their school today (without informing them about me being a former copper and now an undercover ‒ only Jules and Ronnie know that). This is the Year Elevens. I’ve carried out this same routine four times already. This is the fifth and last repetition of all I have to say.
I have no real cause to be nervous. I’ve stood in front of audiences a hundred times before. I’ve dealt with the dregs of society and the more lauded members, too, some of whom are just as untrustworthy let me tell you. Perhaps now I see Jules standing at the back watching, because this year is her tutorial group, that is why I feel stupidly nervous while I say these words for the final time. Not because she makes me feel uncomfortable, just because I know this is an issue so close to her heart and I don’t want to let her down. Not this time. Not ever again.
I take a deep breath, steady myself and refer to my own mental notes, a list of bullet points I wrote down on a piece of paper earlier that day. I have them in my mind so I can visualise what I need to get out to these hormone-fuelled angels before me.
“Good morning everyone. I am in your school today because I have recently been working with several charities in the area who believe that bullying is happening far more frequently than we would like. That is to
say, we would like to wipe it out altogether but we know bullying goes on. This time, however, we’ve discovered it’s possibly become more serious. We hear that young girls and boys, maybe not even in this school, maybe not even in this area, but yes, youngsters like you in this city are being forced or encouraged to do things that they don’t really want to do.
“Bullying. When I say bullying, what does everyone think…? When I say the word, what immediately springs to your minds? I would like to know.”
My audience is silent and I see a sea of disturbed, young faces in front of me. I am suited, booted and in my professional mode today. Kids are intimidated by people like me, so it seems. Now I have their attention, I will make myself more familiar.
“Bullying in my eyes is choosing a victim and making them feel lesser than what they are. Calling names. Hitting them. Pulling hair. Stealing money from them or hiding their gym bag. Making them do things they don’t want to. This is something your school will not tolerate but it is also something that is very hard to talk about.
“I had a friend when I was at school. She had her hair pulled, was beaten in a field, and she never told a soul. The bullies got away with it. She never really got over what happened to her and she probably never will. She can forgive but we never forget.”
I see Jules walk out and I want to chase after her but I see Ruby go instead, with her pink hair, flowery docs and brown pinafore dress on. It actually calms me because then Jules won’t have to hear the rest and I know Ruby will take care of her.
“Sometimes it isn’t easy telling a teacher, a parent, a friend or anyone else you know. Maybe you don’t want to get anybody into trouble. It’s not a nice feeling to think that you’re dobbing someone in or causing trouble for them at home.”
It’s at that point I hold up an A4 picture of a boy who took his own life when he was thirteen years old.
Angel Avenue Page 27