by P L Kane
‘Oh yes, lots,’ Julie said, beaming now as memories came back to her. ‘That time at the zoo for one. I still can’t believe she kept that little penguin!’
‘Her face when she saw the giraffes, I’ve never seen anything like that in my life.’ Jake grinned too, Julie’s smile infectious. ‘It was like … like pure joy, y’know? I can’t even remember what that was like, couldn’t even back then.’
‘That’s kids for you. So innocent, so excited about everything,’ said Julie. ‘And take them to somewhere like the seaside, or an amusement park and they practically explode!’
‘Yeah,’ said Jake, laughing. ‘And Christmases, birthdays. I have some really fond memories of those. Do you remember the time we bought Jordan that doll’s house, and all she wanted to do was play in the wrapping and the box?’
Julie laughed out loud now. ‘I do, I do. God, we paid so much for that thing as well.’
‘She played with it eventually, when she was on her own. The wrapping and stuff was just because she wanted to play with us, rolling around in it, hiding …’ The mention of that word made him stop short, thinking about her hiding places. Her secrets. He shook his head, shaking those thoughts away. ‘And ice cream, you could always get a big smile out of her with that. Raspberry, if I remember rightly.’
‘Ate so much one time she threw up,’ Julie chipped in. ‘Then went back and started eating more.’
‘That’s right. Wow, I’d forgotten about that.’ Jake took another swig of the lager.
They carried on in this vein for a while, reminiscing about everything from taking Jordan to the park for the first time (‘And she fell off the swings, banged her knee, but she still wanted to go back on – crying and laughing at the same time as we pushed her!’) to her projects at school (‘That damned rocket she had to make that I helped her with. You were supposed to fill it with water and watch it shoot up into the air, but ours just burst and we both got saturated!’). By the time they finished they’d just about covered most of her life, the good bits anyway – the bits before she’d started to have trouble, struggling to find her way in the world.
It was at this point he’d almost, almost told her about the diary – but kept quiet. Wasn’t the right time, not just yet.
When they began to touch on Jordan’s later life though, it was Julie who wound the clock right back to their own time as youngsters, laughing about when Jake and Matt used to try and impress her with their football skills.
‘We were only talking about that the other night!’ Jake spluttered, working his way down his fourth or fifth drink.
‘You were?’ she said, surprised.
‘Yeah, he took me out to … Well, you know.’
Julie looked a bit crestfallen then, as if she’d have come if he’d invited her. The old gang together again, just the three of them. But what would Greg Allaway have made of that? What would he make of this? Jake couldn’t help thinking. Would probably have wanted to be at both, knowing him – and wouldn’t have thought a thing of barging in where he wasn’t wanted. Where he didn’t belong.
‘Two nights in the same week chatting about the old days with … with friends,’ said Jake.
Julie looked at him then. ‘Is that what I am now, a friend?’
‘I-I hope so,’ Jake told her. ‘I mean, aren’t you?’ He’d thought they were mending fences, or trying to. That was another thing time had taught them recently, life was too short for arguments and grudges.
‘After all those years married, I … think I might be a little bit more than that, Jacob.’ She pouted, something she always did when she wanted to get her own way – usually in a silly argument over nothing (not the big stuff, and never at the end). Jake used to think it was cute. Still did, if he was honest. And it always, always got him to cave.
‘I … well, yes, I think we always will be,’ he said. ‘But—’
‘More than friends, more than you are with the lawyer woman.’ Julie was running her finger around the rim of her empty wine glass.
‘There you go again, her name’s Sam.’
Julie snorted. ‘What kind of name’s that for a woman?’
‘It’s short for Samantha,’ Jake clarified.
Another snort.
‘What does it matter, Jules? Why are you so bothered by it?’
‘Because …’ She stopped rubbing the top of the glass and looked directly at him. ‘Because maybe she had a point. Maybe I am a little jealous.’
Jake’s mouth fell open. He wasn’t sure what to say to that.
‘When I saw you both having coffee, I …’ Julie realised what she’d just said, looked from side to side as if waiting to be found out.
‘Having coffee?’ Jake frowned. ‘When was this?’
Julie pulled a face, then realised she couldn’t really get out of this one. ‘The other week … After you’d been to the house, after the weekend. The Monday morning.’ Now she was over-explaining, something she did whenever she was embarrassed.
‘But how did you …’ The penny suddenly dropped. ‘You came here to see me?’
Julie nodded. ‘I’m not even sure why, Jake. But seeing you again … I couldn’t get you out of my mind all that weekend.’
He grinned. ‘Really?’ Then he remembered something, his face turning sour immediately. ‘The whole weekend you were with him.’
She looked at him sideways. ‘He has a name, too. Greg.’
‘Don’t I know it. Bloody Greg.’
‘He’s … he’s my husband.’
‘I know that, as well.’ Jake sighed. ‘I just can’t … I don’t get it, Jules. Why him? I really don’t understand.’
‘I-I love him,’ she replied weakly as if that was explanation enough. ‘He was there for me when …’
‘When I wasn’t,’ Jake said sadly. ‘I know. Trust me, I know.’ He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. ‘What a fucking mess.’
‘Yeah.’
When he looked back down again, Jake said, ‘I’m sorry. I really am. If I could go back and change things …’
Julie nodded. ‘Yeah, I know. But what’s done is done.’
‘I just thought … Well, I thought you’d be better off without me around. Thought you hated me. I thought you both did, Jordan especially.’
‘Oh Jake, we never hated you. She never hated you, regardless of what she said. You were her dad.’
He laughed, but there was no humour in it. ‘A shit one.’
‘She never thought that. All those memories we’ve talked about tonight … You were just mad at each other and didn’t know how to fix it.’
‘I always … I always thought there’d be time for that. Later. But then …’
She reached out and took his hand this time. ‘It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t my fault, or even hers.’
‘It was someone’s,’ Jake said without missing a beat.
‘Bobby.’
He didn’t say anything, just squeezed her hand as he had before. ‘That time was stolen from us, Jules. Yeah, we made mistakes. And so did she, Jordan wasn’t an angel.’ He paused then, realising what he’d just said, but ploughed on anyway. ‘But that time … the future. It was stolen from us all, wasn’t it?’
‘I suppose so, yes.’
They both lapsed into silence, not sure what else to say. But then Julie suddenly looked at her watch. ‘It’s getting late, I’d—’
‘Jules …’
They looked at each other for a moment, and it seemed to Jake like that lasted a lifetime. Then, without another word, she was rising, scooping up her coat and bag, but not letting go of his hand. Pulling on it, leading him in the direction of the lifts.
Then they were inside, and he was pressing the button for his floor. And as he turned back to her she planted the first kiss on his lips. The first kiss they’d shared in years, yet it felt like no time had passed at all.
They barely made it to the room before their hands were all over each other, tugging at clothes, in each other’s ha
ir. Before Jake knew what was happening, they were both naked and on the bed.
The first time was quick, two people eager for each other, eager to become one. Tongues darting in and out of mouths, hands exploring, pleasuring. The kind of lovemaking that only comes from knowing your partner well, from having done this so many times before. Julie let out a gasp as he found his way inside her, then her hands were reaching down, grabbing him, urging him on as his thrusts gained momentum. Then it was over, and they both lay panting in each other’s arms.
It wasn’t long, though, before they wanted each other again.
***
If that moment staring into each other’s eyes seemed to last forever, then the rest of the night passed by in a flash.
Julie fell asleep first, and he watched her on the pillow beside him. It felt so right, her being here. It felt like he really was home … Didn’t need the house, just needed her; always had.
It wasn’t long after that he drifted off himself, the combination of drink and what they’d been doing making for the best sleep he’d had since his return to Redmarket. The best sleep in years.
When he woke again, however, light streaming in through the window, the space beside him was empty. Jake cocked an ear, listening out for the flush of the toilet or running water in the shower. But there was nothing, apart from the usual sounds of people getting up in hotels and stomping around, making sure they didn’t miss breakfast.
Jake waited a little while, then raised himself up on one elbow. He waited a little more, until eventually he even called out.
‘Jules?’ No reply. ‘Hey, Julie … You in the bathroom?’
He got up, got out of bed – and that was when he saw it, floating to the floor like a leaf. The note she’d left on top of the duvet. Puzzled, he went over to it and picked it up. Read the words, though they didn’t really sink in at first:
Last night was lovely … But it was a mistake, I shouldn’t have let it happen.
I’m so sorry.
He’s still my husband and I do love him. I don’t want to throw away another marriage, can you understand that, Jake? I’ll always love you too, but we can’t go back no matter how much we might want to.
It just wouldn’t work.
J xx
Jake read it again, scratching his head. What was she talking about, wouldn’t work? Of course it would work, if she let it! If she’d just leave that twat she was with …
Who’d been there, when he hadn’t.
Christ.
He read the note again, then he screwed it up into a ball – slumped back down on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. He’d been so stupid for believing that everything could just go back to the way it was, should have been the one to stop it, though they’d both had too much to drink … Wasn’t her fault, wasn’t his fault.
It was just another mess.
Seriously, what was he still doing here? He’d already put someone he cared about in the hospital, almost ruined another’s marriage, such as it was … (but that was her decision, her choice).
Channing was right, he should leave all this well enough alone. Everyone here would be better off without him, he should just go again.
Go home.
And, thinking that, Jake began to cry.
Chapter 21
He’d been packed, all ready to go.
There hadn’t been much to pack really, just the stuff he’d bought while he’d been here: a few clothes, toiletries, a holdall for the trip, the new charger. And it was as he was grabbing this, about to head out of the door, go down and check out, that he’d spotted the message that had come in overnight.
He’d had it on silent, but probably wouldn’t have noticed even if it hadn’t been. Jake had been otherwise engaged, losing himself in the moment. Losing himself in someone he thought wanted to be lost as well. Perhaps she had, if only for a little while. But he should stop thinking about that, because every time he did the tears threatened to come again, and he didn’t want to keep crying anymore. Was frightened that if he did he might not stop.
The message definitely stopped them coming, though. The one from a number he didn’t recognise, an anonymous message with no hello, no goodbye. It just said one thing:
You should be looking into the mayor.
The second note that day he’d had to read twice, was puzzled over. But there was more, a second text that was just an attachment. It had been forwarded from somewhere, but that number removed. Usually he wasn’t one for opening that kind of thing, Alison at work was forever warning him about viruses or whatever, but something made him do it. Something about the tone of the message, about when it had come in, the middle of the night.
Jake pressed on it, and once again couldn’t quite work out what he was looking at. Some kind of invitation to an exclusive gathering that promised to cater to ‘all tastes’. There was a fancy pattern at the top and bottom, but the address where this gathering was being held had been blocked out.
‘What the fuck?’ Jake whispered to himself, and just held the phone out – staring at it like it was hand grenade about to go off. In a sense, it was. Someone had just thrown him a grenade here, something that could blow everything wide open if only he could work out what it meant. What they meant by ‘looking into the mayor’. Why? About what? Invitations to a party or something? It didn’t make any sense …
And the more he thought about it, the more it had to be some sort of wind-up, or hoax or simply spam. Except both messages, the ‘advice’ and the attachment had come from the same number, and that didn’t usually happen with spam, did it? One phishing mail and you were done, that was how it usually worked, wasn’t it?
Jake pressed on the number until it gave him the option to ring, then he pressed that button. Nothing happened, no ringing out, nobody answering. He frowned, took it down from his ear and tried again.
Still nothing.
‘Okay …’ he said to himself. Then, as he went back to over to the holdall and began to take out the clothes he’d shoved in there, in preparation for the journey ahead, he dialled another number. This time they answered.
‘Hello,’ said Jake, putting the phone in the crook of his neck as he flapped a crumpled shirt. ‘Directory enquiries. Yes, hello … I was wondering if you could give me the number for the mayor of Redmarket’s office please.’
Chapter 22
The design of Redmarket’s town hall was just as schizophrenic as its church.
Jake thought this as he parked up behind it, putting money in the machine for a ticket. It spat one out, which dangled like a dog’s tongue until he took it and placed it on the dashboard of his Toyota.
He kept on staring up at it on approach, taking in the building’s turrets and domes, the size of the place out of all proportion to the town it served. It was almost as if they were expecting to be at war with the neighbouring towns and cities at any given moment and the whole of Redmarket would need to hold their last stand here.
However, as he got nearer he saw – or remembered, though he’d had very little need to come here when he was a resident – that it also encompassed the law courts as well. For a second, he had a mental picture of Sam going to work on someone in the dock, arguing the case against them as emotionally as she argued Bobby Bannister’s innocence. Jake felt bad then, not simply because thinking of that boy brought to mind thoughts of Jordan, of her death, but also because of what had happened to Sam the day before.
She’d got hurt looking into all this with him, but would have been even more hurt if she knew about what happened later on with Julie. Yes, they’d only known each other a short time, but there was something there … something more than just friendship, even if it wasn’t years of marriage behind them. Something that might have been worth exploring if he hadn’t bollocksed that up as well, chasing after a dream.
It’s like you’ve got the Midas Touch in reverse, Jake. Everything you go near turns to shit! But someone, somewhere doesn’t want you to give up on this, do
they? Somebody was actually trying to help him, point him in the right direction. Jake didn’t know why, or what any of this had to do with Jordan, with Drummond or the rest of it, but now he wasn’t just flailing around anymore, doing the Columbo or Scooby gang thing or whatever the hell else Channing had called it.
Now he had a direction, and he also had an appointment. The mayor, Sellars, had graciously given up some time to meet with Redmarket’s celebrity grieving father. He’d pitched it on the phone to Sellars’ assistant as a meeting to chat about setting up a possible charity in Jordan’s name, to help the parents of those who’d lost children under any circumstances. That had got him through the door that afternoon, the chance to do something … sorry, to be seen to be doing something like that was one he knew no politician in their right mind would be able to resist (and the wait had given him a chance to make his official statement at the station about the day before, some lowly uniform jotting everything down Jake could remember).
He’d seen Sellars on the news just after the events back in the market, giving speeches about how Redmarket was still a safe place for the youngsters to hang out at night – regardless of the evidence to the contrary. Had to do that, a lot of the town’s income and economy was based around its nightlife. Certainly wasn’t based around the meat trade or markets anymore … So Jake knew that this would mean more airtime for the mayor, who didn’t rely on public votes as such – that particular piece of legislation hadn’t reached Redmarket and the mayor was still appointed by councillors – but still wanted to keep the inhabitants onside.
And as appealing as a charity idea was – in fact when all this was done and dusted Jake vowed to actually take up that cause and put the project into effect – he had no intentions of talking to Sellars today about that. No, he had other matters to discuss …
You should be looking into the mayor.
Of course, the thought did occur to him on the drive over that this could all be someone’s idea of a practical joke. Get the father of the dead girl, who’d already been in jail for brawling, to go after Redmarket’s most powerful person all guns blazing. Let’s see if we can’t get him banged up again, eh? Which would also have the added benefit of getting Jake out of the way, if he was making too much of a nuisance of himself.