by Ernesto Lee
She feigns taking offence at my comment, but she also appears to be happy that I am heading to bed and doesn’t comment when I knock my whisky back in one. We confirm to meet at 6:30 am at reception and then we wish each other a good night.
Unlike last night, I have no intention of waiting around until I am sure Catherine is asleep. I have a lot to do and unless the hotel catches on fire, I am confident that Cath won’t be bothering me tonight.
I take a quick shower and then I take the new outfit from the bag given to me by Abigail. The suit and shoes are a great fit and to finish off the look, I put on the paisley tie and slick my hair back with slightly less Brylcreem than last night and then I top it off with the trilby. I’m tempted to have another drink from the minibar, but at the last second and conscious of tomorrow’s meeting, I return the bottle to its place and close the door.
At about ten-fifteen, I retrieve the same photo of Jed and Tighe O’Hanlon from the case file that I used last night. I also stuff my can of CS gas spray into one of the jacket pockets. I’m hoping not to need it – but, like Cath said, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
The Past – Tuesday, 14th March, 1972
I lay down on my bed but have barely even begun my chant when the light takes me. This time it is noticeably warmer than it was on my last visit and it’s also much later in the day.
It’s still cold, but the street lights are on and most of the snow and the shitty brown slush that was evident on my last visit is gone. The time is just after 9 pm, so most of the shops, including the newsagent are already closed. But the pubs will be open and there will almost certainly be a copy of one of today’s newspapers at the bar or on one of the tables.
Two young guys are chatting outside the Tyevale Arms, but they barely give me a second look as I pass them and make my way inside.
The bar area is slightly busier than it was on my last trip, and whilst the domino-playing pensioners are at the same table next to the fire, this time there are no comments about my appearance. My suit has obviously met with their approval and the landlord is smiling as he greets me.
“Good evening, sir. What can I get you?”
I’m pleased that he hasn’t recognized me from my last visit, which was just a week ago in 1972. If he doesn’t recognize me, then perhaps his truncheon-wielding brother, Sergeant Cuttler, might also be less likely to recognize me if we bump into each other.
“A pint of John Smiths please, landlord. Oh, and a read of your newspaper, if that’s okay?”
“Help yourself,” he replies, pushing across a copy of the Daily Mirror. “I wouldn’t bother though. There’s no good news in there. It’s all bloody strikes, unemployment, and the hunt for those paddies that blew up the barracks.”
I’m less interested in the news than I am in the date, which thankfully confirms that it is March 14th.
Donald places my pint down on a beermat and I thank him and turn back to face the rest of the bar. Unlike my last visit, tonight the pub is completely empty of anyone under the age of twenty-five. I have a good idea why, but I ask Donald anyway.
“Is it always this quiet? Where are all the youngsters?”
“It’s half price at the carnival tonight. They always do a half-price Tuesday on the last week in town. Most of the young’uns were in earlier for a drink, but then they headed over there. They’re all bloody mad, if you ask me, riding around on those death-trap rides in this weather.”
I nod my thanks and take a large gulp from my beer, “Yep, that’s kids for you. Did you say that this was the last week for the carnival?”
“That’s right, the last day is this Saturday and bloody good riddance to them. Every year they turn up and they leave a right bleeding mess when they leave.”
Clearly, Donald is not a great fan of the carny folk, but I don’t have time to stand around and debate the rights and wrongs of the carnival with him. I swallow the remainder of my pint and turn to leave, with Donald still moaning to anyone that will listen to him.
Outside the pub, I check my watch. It is now nearly 10 o’clock and according to the witness statements, the scuffle between the O’Hanlons and Paul Oliver took place at around 10:50 pm. I reach into my pocket to check that I still have my CS gas spray and then I set off towards the O’Hanlon Carnival.
I’ve barely covered more than twenty yards when my copper’s instinct kicks in and I turn around to see who is following me.
“I suppose you think that was bloody funny, don’t you, Sean? Well, the joke’s on you, mate. I knew when you didn’t show up on Sunday that you would be here today, so I waited.”
He looks so miserable and deflated that I am tempted for a second to be nice. That thought quickly passes when I see his footwear.
“You look like shit, Ben. And seriously, you turn up in 1972 wearing a pair of Nike Jordan’s. What did I say about a bull-dog’s bollocks? What happened to the boots, I gave you?”
“Don’t even bloody start about those boots, Sean,” he replies, clearly extremely pissed off with me. “I could hardly stand in them, let alone walk. And yes, I do look like shit, but so would you if you’d been sleeping rough for the last two nights. You’re lucky that I didn’t bloody freeze to death.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Ben. Remember, you’re immortal in your dreams. If you had frozen to death, you would have woken up in your nice warm bed.”
“Fuck you, Sean! That was a shit’s trick and you know it. Seriously, it’s no fun sleeping rough in the middle of March, and I’m bloody starving. There’s a hot-dog stand at the carnival. Buy me one and I might think about forgiving you for being an asshole.”
He now looks so pathetic, that I am almost beginning to feel sorry for him. I’m also feeling quite impressed that he had the balls to wait around for me so long. The kid might actually have some potential.
“Fine – but, like I said before, you say and do nothing unless I tell you to. Is that understood?”
“Yes, it’s understood. Now can we get going? My stomach feels like my throat has been cut.”
As we get closer to the carnival, the smell of greasy food and cotton candy fills the air. Tormented by the tempting aromas, Ben quickens his pace and arrives at the entrance at least thirty seconds before me. When I do get there, he looks at me expectantly and after an unnecessary pause to make the point that I am in charge – I take out my wallet and hand him a five-pound note.
“Get your food and then come straight back and find me. I’m going to see if I can find the girls.”
Without even waiting for me to finish speaking, he snatches the note from my hand and disappears in search of food, and I move inside to start my search.
The carnival is one of the biggest I have seen. It is busy with families and groups of young people, but the lights from the rides mean it is well lit. I still have nearly forty minutes before the fight is due to kick off and after ten minutes of searching, I spot the back of two blonde-haired young women standing next to a shooting gallery. I’m sure it’s them, and as I move closer, Eddie Wells comes into view and confirms it.
I move within three or four feet of them, close enough to hear the girls encouraging Eddie to have a go with one of the rifles. Joanna asks him to win a giant teddy bear for her, but he appears to be reluctant and even a little bit shy of making a fool of himself. When he declines a second time, Joanna speaks to him again, but in a much more surprising way.
“What’s wrong, Edward? Are you worried about making a fool of yourself? You shouldn’t worry. It won’t make any difference – you’re already the village idiot!”
Eddie is red with embarrassment and looks like he is about to burst into tears, but his obvious discomfort doesn’t stop Joanna from carrying on and taunting him further.
Just when I think that he might walk away, Lucy picks up one of the rifles and hands it to him.
“Don’t be frightened, Eddie. They’re only tin cans. They don’t bite.”
This comment and the laughter of the onlookers
seems to do the trick and Eddie loads a pellet into the rifle. As he aims, he is shaking so badly that the outcome is a foregone conclusion. By the time he has finished his five shots, all the cans remain standing and Joanna wastes no time in berating him again.
“You really are a bloody waste of space, Eddie Wells. I bet the pheasants on your farm love you, don’t they? I don’t know what the hell I see in you, you bloody useless lump.”
Joanna’s behavior towards Eddie makes absolutely no sense. Eddie is her boyfriend and now that I know that his money seems to have been the main attraction in their relationship, why would she risk losing him?
In less than a week he will be selling his farm and most of his land. Surely by now, they must have already discussed this. Why risk him breaking off the relationship, or changing his mind about selling up and giving Joanna and Sir David his money?
I’m thinking this over, when Lucy grabs Joanna’s arm and pulls her away.
“Come on, I’m bored of this. Let’s head over to the Ferris wheel. Paul and the lads usually hang around over there.”
The girls walk away together, but Eddie seems unsure whether he should follow. Realizing he is not with them, Joanna stops Lucy and nudges her in the arm.
“Hey, sis, watch this.”
Joanna stops a young girl and hands her some money in return for her ice cream. Then she scoops the ice cream off the top of the cone and launches it at Eddie’s head.
Unlike Eddie’s poor attempt with the air rifle, Joanna is deadly accurate, and the ice cream hits him square in the face. Lucy laughs hysterically, but Joanna remains steely faced and throws out another insult to Eddie before both girls turn away towards the Ferris wheel. “Get yourself bloody cleaned up, you spastic.”
If I had thought before that Joanna was a bitch, her behavior now confirms it. Lucy is only slightly better. She’s not directly taunting Eddie, but neither is she doing anything to stop it. I have met spiteful people before, but It almost seems that Joanna is deliberately trying to wind Eddie up. Whatever it is, they are both being disgusting human beings right now.
Eddie takes a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his face before obediently following behind the girls. I follow at a safe distance behind Eddie and watch as the three take a seat on a bench in front of the Ferris wheel. Paul and his friends are nowhere to be seen, but I knew that already. I’m not expecting them to turn up until after the O’Hanlons arrive. The girls chat for a few minutes and then, right on time, the brothers arrive with two other scruffy-looking carnies.
Tighe is the older brother, but it is Jed that has the looks in the family. He is nearly fifteen years older than Lucy, but it is easy to see how she would be attracted to him. The posh girl going for a bit of rough is a story as old as the hills and whilst I can’t hear everything that is being said, the body language between them is obvious. He hasn’t wasted any time with laying on the Irish charm and I carefully move closer along the Ferris wheel railing to try to hear what is being said.
I am so intent on listening in that I don’t notice Ben approaching me until it is too late, and his less-than-discrete arrival brings us some unwanted attention.
“Hey, Sean. That hit the spot. I’m ready to get started now. What’s going on? Are they the girls?”
I pull Ben towards me and tell him to be quiet, but we have already been spotted and Tighe O’Hanlon walks towards us.
“What was that you said? Are you spying on us, ya pair of bloody perves?”
I push Ben aside and step forward to try to placate Tighe, but we are quickly forgotten when he hears raised voices behind him. Paul Oliver has arrived with his gang and is unhappy at the sight of Lucy holding Jed’s hand.
“Lucy, what the hell is this? You asked me to come here tonight. Is this some kind of sick game?”
Joanna stands up and is about to speak, but Lucy holds out her hand to stop her.
“Don’t worry, sis. I’ve got this.”
Then letting go of Jed’s hand, she pokes Paul in the chest and pushes him backwards.
“Nobody asked you to come here, Paul. Go home and take the rest of these little boys with you. Jed is going to take me for a ride, isn’t that right, Jed?”
Tighe has rejoined the group and he slaps his brother on the back. “Too bloody right he is, Lucy. My brother likes a good ride, don’t you, Jed? Now why don’t you ladies do one, before you all get a bloody nose.”
Paul is the first to swing a punch, and his boys are close behind, but the carnies are ready for them and quickly respond. Neither side seem to be making much progress and almost as soon as the fight has started, it ends when a bellowing voice calls a halt.
“What the hell is this! Break this shit up right now, you bunch of miserable bastards!”
His truncheon is out and, based on my own experience, I have no doubt that he would be happy to crack a few skulls given half the chance. The two groups separate and Sergeant Cuttler steps in between them. His voice is calm, but at the same time has that air of authority and confidence born of long experience in the job.
“Paul, get yourself home, lad, and take your boys with you. Go on, get along now.”
I can see that Paul is reluctant to leave and, just as Joanna said during our meeting at Colevale, he asks Lucy to go home as well.
“Please, Lucy. This isn’t what you want. The carnival will be gone in a few days, and then you will be knocking on my door again.”
Lucy is not even listening. Despite Joanna also asking her not to go with the O’Hanlons, she ignores everyone and walks away holding Jed’s hand. The rest of the carnies also leave and Cuttler puts away his truncheon and nods to Paul.
“Off you go, lad. I won’t ask you again.”
Paul leaves with his gang and Sergeant Cuttler next turns his attention in our direction. For a moment it seems like he is staring right at me trying to remember where he knows me from, but then to my great relief he turns away again and tells the rest of the gathered crowd to move along.
“Nothing to see here, folks. Go on, get back to whatever you were doing.”
With the crowd dispersed, and Cuttler gone, I turn my attention back to following Lucy and the O’Hanlon brothers, but they have already disappeared into the crowd. Joanna and Eddie are also leaving and will also soon be out of sight.
“Ben, I need you to follow those two, but for God’s sake don’t let them see you. If nothing suspicious happens in an hour, then make your way back here. I’m going to try to find Lucy.”
Searching for Lucy and the O’Hanlons amongst the crowd will be a waste of time and I already know where they are likely to be anyway. At the far edge of the carnival and set far enough away for privacy, are a cluster of crappy-looking caravans that the carnies must call home. Almost certainly they will be heading there.
Ben heads off in pursuit of Joanna and Eddie and I push my way through the crowd and head towards the caravans to find Lucy.
The caravans are arranged in a semi-circle around the burnt-out remains of a bonfire and my arrival is met by the barking of a mangy-looking Irish Wolfhound chained to a steel post.
Only one of the caravans has any lights on. At the sound of the dog barking, I push myself into the shadows of the adjacent caravan just as the door opens and Tighe looks out to investigate.
“Who’s out there? Come on, show yourselves, ya fuckers!”
From inside, I can hear Jed shout to his brother.
“Get yourself back in, ya eejit, it’s nothing. That bloody dog is afraid of its own shadow.”
Satisfied that the dog just has the jitters, he calls the dog an idiot, then goes back inside and slams the door behind him. Barely ten seconds have passed, and I am just about to leave my hiding place when the door opens again and Lucy comes out, followed by Jed.
“Lucy, come on, there’s no need to leave. Come back inside. Just stay and have a drink. I thought you were up for it tonight?”
She is already level with the bonfire, and it is obvious that she i
s intent on leaving when she answers the question but carries on walking. “Sorry, I’ve changed my mind, maybe tomorrow … if you’re lucky!”
Tighe has appeared at the door and he stops Jed from following her.
“Leave it, Jed. Plenty more posh crumpet where she came from. Let’s get a drink.”
Jed’s pride is obviously hurt and as Lucy carries on walking, he hurls an empty beer bottle at her. It doesn’t even get close. Whether she can hear or not, he finishes off with an insult before rejoining his brother back inside. “Go on then, piss off, ya stuck-up, cock-teasing cow!”
So, I guess this rules out the O’Hanlon brothers – for now anyway. I doubt very much that she will change her mind and come back here tonight. Not after that little episode. So, where the hell could she be going? I leave my hiding place and run back towards the main carnival area. The hound is barking again, but I am already in amongst the carnival goers before anyone is likely to come out to investigate.
I spot Lucy just as she reaches the exit and I slow down my pace and hold back. She seems unsure at first in which direction to go and seems to be either looking for someone or possibly waiting for someone. Another five minutes pass and just when it looks like she is about to give up and leave, a smartly dressed young man calls out to her from the other side of the road. I can’t see the dog collar, but the road is well lit, and Father Beale is easily recognizable.
After a brief exchange of words, they link arms and turn left out of the exit onto the road that would eventually take them to Colevale if they kept on walking. I can’t imagine that is where they are going, though. At a normal walking pace, it would take them at least an hour in good conditions. In the middle of March on an unlit country road in the middle of the night, it would take much longer.
I cross to the darker side of the road to follow them, but my progress is stopped immediately by Ben who surprises me when he steps out from behind a tree and pulls me towards him.
“Sean, get in here. Joanna and Eddie are just up ahead. They must be waiting for her. Who is that with her?”