Don't Tell Meg Trilogy Box Set

by Paul J. Teague

  He was too insignificant, too powerless to confront Tony Dodds and Russell Black on his own, but if he could at least stop Gary Maxwell he’d have given his daughters some form of revenge. And he could prevent it happening again at the home.

  The front door opened and Mavis walked into the house with two carrier bags packed with groceries. She put them down in the hallway and walked into the lounge. Immediately she saw the red streak of blood on the plain wall where Meg had hurt her knuckles. She looked between Tom and Meg and at the mess on the floor where tools and parts had been kicked around.

  ‘Is somebody hurt?’ she asked. ‘We’ll need to see if we can make that better.’

  I’d spent far too much time in police stations in the past year. I’d be grateful to never step inside one again. But I wasn’t concerned about being called in to account for my whereabouts and the reason that my car was parked along the road from June Dodds’ house. Of course they had to interview me. DCI Summers had already been called in because of the loose connection with Meg through the children’s home. This still didn’t feel like my problem. In spite of the three deaths, I had convinced myself that it only had a cursory link to me. I was so wrong.

  My car had been towed away. It looked as if Alex would be paying for taxi fares a while longer. It would be released to me eventually, but for now it was impounded while they did whatever checks they had to do.

  I was grateful to DCI Summers who came to meet me at the desk in the police station and accompanied me to an interview room. This wasn’t her case so she had to stay out of it, but it was nice of her to see me and get me a decent cup of tea before we began the questioning again.

  It’s no problem being questioned when you have nothing to hide. I thought back to when I’d slept with Ellie and I’d had to avoid giving the full truth. I’d been terrified that Meg would get to learn of my infidelity and I was desperate to hide what I’d done, through shame as much as fear.

  This time it was a simple case of explaining why we’d been talking to Bob Taylor. They knew I was a journalist, and Alex came with me to corroborate my story. We were done in an hour and DCI Summers was waiting for us after we’d given our statements.

  ‘Are you ever going to get back to that family of yours?’ I asked as we began the walk down the long corridor.

  ‘Not at this rate,’ she replied. ‘I’ve had to stay on another day.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound very good,’ Alex chipped in. ‘You’re only here because of the connection with Meg, aren’t you?’

  DCI Summers stopped and turned to face us.

  ‘Come on, Alex, Pete. You know I can’t discuss case details. Let’s just say that I’m needed down here for a while longer. And please stay out of trouble. I’ve known criminals who keep a lower profile than you two.’

  We walked to the end of the corridor and she opened the door to the waiting area. There was some altercation going on, but it wasn’t with a yob or a drunk. The guy who was protesting was tall, had well-cut hair and was dressed in a suit. His voice was confident and authoritative, and he was actually scolding the police officers who were escorting him into the building. He was there voluntarily like us – there were no cuffs and no force was being used. I marked him out immediately as a pompous, arrogant arsehole.

  ‘I’d like a coffee please, and none of that machine crap. Get me a double espresso with brown sugar, not white!’

  He had an air of power and authority about him. He was used to being listened to and obeyed. The accompanying officers looked flustered, out of their depth, even servile in this man’s presence.

  ‘Yes, Mr Black, we’ll do what we can. If you’d be kind enough to step this way.’

  They exited through the same door that we’d come through. With the man now gone, it felt as if there was a vacuum in the room.

  ‘Was that Russell Black?’ I asked.

  ‘It was,’ DCI Summers replied, looking around to see who was in the waiting room. She moved in close.

  ‘And what a right little twat he is!’

  I was taken aback by the language. She’d been so professional in her dealings with us, but she’d let her guard down.

  ‘DCI Summers, I do hope that you don’t use language like that in front of those children of yours?’

  ‘He’s a nasty little man. He’s been in a few times. He’s semi-retired and part of the inspectorate these days. Part-time work for five times the salary, you know the sort of thing. He has this aura about him. I’ve dealt with some hard cases in my time, but this guy is something else.’

  ‘I guess we don’t need to ask why he’s here,’ said Alex. ‘Don’t tell me … you can’t discuss case details.’

  ‘It’s fairly obvious, isn’t it? With all the deaths related to that children’s home. Let’s say he’s helping them with their enquiries. If ever there was a case for police brutality in the cells, that’s it. Please don’t quote me on that. I need this job and I have mouths to feed.’

  ‘Your secret is safe with us,’ I smiled. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that. It was as if Cruella De Vil had walked into the building. And he was the head of social services? God help us all.’

  We said our farewells to DCI Summers and took a seat in the waiting room.

  ‘Okay if we go home now? My leg is killing me,’ I said. ‘We’ll need to call another taxi. We might as well wait in the warm.’

  I took my phone out of my pocket and powered it up. I’d had it switched off during the interview.

  ‘Bollocks!’ I cursed. ‘I missed a call from Meg. She’s left a voicemail. Damn it!’

  I keyed my PIN into the phone and played back the message.

  The waiting room was empty so I put it on speaker. There was hesitation at first. Meg and I hadn’t spoken for a year – where do you begin?

  ‘Pete ... hi ... I’d hoped I’d get through to you directly. Look, I know you’re in Blackpool. We’ve got to talk things over. I’m sorry I disappeared like that, but I ... I had things to do. Things from my past. I had to sort stuff out.’

  There was another pause. I could hear a man’s voice in the background and a baby gurgling happily. Whatever was going on, he was making the baby laugh. I cursed him. That’s all I needed, some new man on the scene, getting in the way, making things even more complicated. She might have held off until we’d had time to talk, to get things sorted out.

  ‘This is difficult, Pete. Look, we need to meet up. Ivy gave me your details. If you get this in time, I’ll be in town until closing time – I’ve got some things I have to do. I’ll be at Ivy’s at five-thirty. If you can make it, meet me there. If you can’t, call me back. See you soon, Pete …’

  There was a hesitation. More silence. Then she ended the call. I looked at the clock which was hanging on the wall above the reception desk. It was 5:10pm. If we rushed, we’d make it to Ivy’s in time.

  ‘You need to go alone,’ Alex said after the message had finished playing in full. ‘I’m not coming with you.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right. That’s all we need at my grand reunion: the woman I spent five years of my life with and who was almost the mother of my baby. That’s a great way to smooth things over with Meg. See? I am learning.’

  ‘You need to stop making wisecracks and get over there fast, Pete. Don’t miss her again. I’ll call two taxis and you take the first one that comes.’

  We moved out to the front of the police station. It was a twenty minute jog to the town centre, but my leg wasn’t up to it. I’d have to take my chances with a taxi. I looked at the clock on my phone. Five minutes had passed already. I couldn’t miss Meg again.

  ‘How long did they say they’d take?’ I asked Alex, agitated now.

  ‘Up to twenty minutes. It’s the end of the day, Pete – a terrible time to get a taxi.’

  At that moment a cab came along the road. I couldn’t see if it was full or empty.

  ‘Fuck it!’ I said and ran out into the road, putting my hand up into the air t
o show him I wanted him to stop – as if he was going to plough straight through me.

  ‘Jesus, Pete!’ Alex screamed at me from the safety of the pavement.

  The driver had passengers, a young couple. I took a chance and opened the door.

  ‘I have to get to the town centre before five-thirty. It’s an emergency. I’ll pay the full taxi fare for me and this couple, and I’ll add a ten pound tip. That’s how much I need to get there. Okay?’

  ‘Get in!’ the young woman in the back of the car said, smiling. I’d gambled on them being young and broke.

  ‘Where to then?’ the taxi driver asked, ‘seeing as this appears to be a hijack?’

  ‘Ivy’s coffee shop. It’s in the town centre.’

  I slammed the door shut and we drove off. I could see as we departed that Alex was trying to get my attention. She was waving a couple of ten pound notes at me. Shit, I didn’t have any cash. I had no intention of revealing my financial status to the taxi driver before we arrived at our destination. It would only be twenty or thirty quid. I’d pay it back as soon as I could.

  We seemed to hit every red light on our way through town. I watched the time ticking away on the dashboard clock. If my leg hadn’t hurt so much, I’d have got out and run the rest of the way.

  It was 5:28pm. I was exasperated and was getting ready to start swearing. I’d been stupid. I tried to ring Meg’s number so that I could let her know I was on my way. I looked through my missed calls log. Damn it, it was a withheld number. She’d called from her house by the look of it. It wasn’t a mobile phone that she’d used to get in touch.

  I’d changed my phone since I’d last seen Meg. The crappy model that I’d had previously had been partly responsible for all the problems we’d had communicating after events unravelled the first time. I didn’t have her new mobile number. I’d called the old one several times after I’d seen her for the last time, but that ship had sailed already.

  An elderly couple crossing in front of us was the final straw. I try to be patient with old people. I always imagine it’s my mum and endeavour to be kind, but I was all for running this pair down.

  ‘I can’t wait any longer!’ I announced, opening the door.

  ‘Hang on a minute, mate. You owe me a taxi fare!’

  ‘I’ll have to pay you later. I’m sorry, I have to go ...’

  ‘Oi, come back here, you tosser.’

  I threw my phone into the car.

  ‘Take that as security. I’ll come back and pay you, honestly!’

  I ran off as fast as I could with a leg that felt as if it was about to drop off at any moment. I’d regret handing over my phone later, but I was making it up as I went along. At the time I didn’t know how much I’d come to curse that impulsive action.

  People were leaving work. The shops were emptying and my route along the pavement kept getting blocked. It had to be past five-thirty. How long would she hang on for me?

  I needed to stop. I cursed my leg and my luck. What an idiot I’d been leaping off that open-top bus. What had I been thinking of? I was paying for my bad decision now. In fact, I’d been paying for my poor decisions for the past year.

  I could see the light from Ivy’s coffee shop in the distance. Almost there. I had to push through the pain in my leg. It was getting dark, the nights were closing in. If Meg disappeared into the darkness, I’d never find her. I was so close. I desperately wanted to see her. I could wait until the next day, but I’d had enough of the missed opportunities. This meeting had to happen now.

  I stopped on the pavement across the road from Ivy’s and I could see Meg standing outside by the window. She was still there, thank God. She hadn’t changed. She was alone, with one hand on the pram handle, looking up and down the pavement. Was I about to meet my child? Or was this Jem’s baby?

  I became aware of a black car pulling out into the road and at the same time a taxi pulled into the vacant space. The car had a rental sticker in the back window. The driver did a dangerous turn in the road and pulled up right beside Meg. I was aware of somebody approaching me from behind. It was the taxi driver whose fare I’d just avoided paying.

  ‘Oi, wanker, you can stick your phone. I want my fare or I’m calling the police.’

  ‘Meg!’ I shouted, but she couldn’t hear me. I started to run across the road, regardless of what the traffic was doing. I didn’t care.

  A man got out of the black car, walked up to Meg and grabbed her by the arm. She let go of the pram handle and I could see her protesting. He manhandled her into the back of the vehicle before she realised what was happening. I ran up to the car as another vehicle swerved to avoid me. I banged on the window.

  ‘Meg! Meg!’

  He drove off at speed, ignoring me completely. I couldn’t see much inside the car, the windows were tinted, and it was impossible in the poor light. But I did get a look at the man. I’d seen him before, but I couldn’t place him. And I heard Meg screaming for the baby.

  As the car drove off, I was about to run after it, in spite of the searing pain in my leg. I was stopped by a hand which would not release its grip.

  ‘You owe me thirty pounds, wanker!’

  Chapter Fifteen

  1993 The gas heater on the living-room wall never did get properly fixed. What with the distraction of Meg’s outburst and Mavis’s inconvenient arrival back at the house, the mess was cleared up quickly and the job got put on hold for another time.

  Tom and Meg never spoke about the details after that day. There was an understanding between the two of them about what had happened. The specifics didn’t need to be discussed. It was too painful for Meg. She was embarrassed and ashamed, and she blocked it out until she was forced to think about it.

  When she did remember what had happened in the home, it came washing over her as a rush of anxiety and for a moment she would feel as if her life were spiralling out of control. Then she would think about Hannah, Tom, Mavis and their new home. They were a family now and she was safe from that place. If they could punish Gary Maxwell and spare the other children in the home from his return, then at least some good might come out of things.

  First Tom had to meet with Russell Black and Tony Dodds. When they’d wanted to find him it had been simple enough, but for him to get a meeting with them was almost impossible. They were surrounded by gatekeepers and cronies. A man like Tom Yates, a handyman, had no sway.

  So Tom found another way to get attention. It was playing with fire, he knew that. But there was only one way he could make the deal. When Bob Taylor withdrew from the case, claiming that he’d been mistaken and no longer wished to give any evidence, Tom held firm and said that he would continue, even though the likelihood of legal success was now slim. He knew that Dodds and Black would hear this news immediately and know that he’d ignored the warnings. It would result in the inevitable intervention. Tom prayed that the men would not simply grow impatient with him and arrange for an accident without further dialogue.

  Sure as anything, the day after Tom had confirmed his willingness to proceed with his claims about what had been going on in the home, he was met from work by two shadowy figures. Tom had expected to be visited by Tony Dodds and Russell Black, but they’d sent two other men to do their dirty work.

  ‘Thomas Yates, you need to get in the car,’ said a man who was twice Tom’s size and who had healing scabs on his knuckles.

  ‘Who are you?’ Tom asked. ‘Have you been sent by Tony Dodds?’

  ‘Just get in the car,’ said the second, smaller man. Somehow he was more threatening. The bigger man looked as if he was the muscle, but the smaller man was the one who could hurt him most.

  Tom had been caught off-guard. He’d expected Dodds and Black to do their own dirty work.

  ‘Where are you taking me? I wanted to speak to Mr Dodds and Mr Black. I couldn’t get an appointment. I needed to speak to them.’

  Silence. They were driving him towards the seafront. At least they were public there. It wasn’t to
o late, people were still about, but not many. It was a stormy, windy night, and the sea was wild and high, the waves powerful and deadly. They headed for Bispham and Cleveleys. It would be quieter there. Tom wondered how many places they had like this where they would take people who needed to be intimidated, away from the gaze of others.

  They pulled up at a quiet spot on the beach. It was dark and Tom could hear the crashing of the waves. Another car was parked there, a black one. Tony Dodds and Russell Black stepped out when they saw that Tom had arrived. They were dressed for the cold. Both wore scarfs and warm woollen hats. Tom had no such protection, and the air from the sea was biting cold.

  ‘We did ask you politely, Mr Yates,’ Tony Dodds shouted over the howls of the wind, ‘yet you persist in pushing forward your claims.’

  ‘I’m afraid that it’s time to end this now,’ added Russell Black.

  ‘By the way, we picked up another friend of yours,’ Black continued, walking to the boot of the car. He opened it up. Meg was inside, her hands locked in a pair of police cuffs and her mouth covered with a strip of grey tape. Tom saw the terror in her eyes. How had they ever thought they could beat these men? In the safety of their living room, they had felt so sure. Yet here, in this deadly situation, they were nothing, they could do nothing.

  ‘This ends tonight,’ Tony Dodds said. ‘You’ve taken up far too much of our time.’

  He nodded at the bigger stooge, who walked over to the car boot and picked up Meg with one arm and dropped her to the ground. She flinched, but stood up and steadied herself on her feet.

  ‘Such a shame,’ Russell Black said, looking at Meg. ‘A teenage daughter meets her father on the seafront to watch the crashing waves. The father walks too close to the sea, getting caught by the waves. The daughter, seeing her father in trouble, rushes to help, but is overpowered by the force of the sea. A tragic waste of life, but there have been so many warnings by the council to stay away from the sea when it’s like this. And Simon here saw it all, but arrived too late to save either of you. Isn’t that true, Simon?’