by H A Dawson
Lauren tensed and after a moment of contemplation said how imperative it was for her to clear her son’s name before she died. I wanted to agree with her, but given her prognosis, I wasn’t certain we had the time. In addition, we would need some firm evidence to give to the police if we were to persuade them to reopen the case, and right at that moment, I didn’t have a clue where that would come from.
‘We can’t do nothing!’ she squealed.
‘We might not have a choice.’ I paused. ‘Do you think James is involved?’
‘I really don’t know. I’ll take you to see him then you’ll be able to tell me if he’s acting suspiciously.’
‘I really don’t know if that’s—’
She cut me off. ‘James talks to me on occasions, unlike Austin. I’ll get to it right away.’ She pulled her phone from her bag.
I stopped her in midstream. ‘By all means, talk to him, but don’t arrange anything with me just yet. I haven’t done anything about my suspension and that’s going to take up some time. I’m also going to have to look for another job. The hearing could be months away and I need an income.’
‘Oh, right.’ She returned her phone to her bag. ‘Well, it’ll be my priority, then.’
‘It might be a good thing for you to get involved. It might take your mind off things.’
‘Off dying, you mean.’
Tensing, I regretted my comment and focused on the traffic gathering outside a school, and further along, a group of activists campaigning outside a food factory for animal rights. Then, I turned onto a road leading to Lauren’s estate and considered how I’d spend the remainder of the day. I expected Lauren to invite me into her flat to
talk about Austin some more, but I didn’t want to do that and wanted some alone time. However, I wasn’t good at turning people down and regretted not having Glenn’s offer of a date as an excuse.
‘I don't mean to get down on you, Ebony,’ she said. ‘It’s just this whole business messes with my head. I know I did wrong but I shouldn’t have to suffer forever after.’
I passed a sad stare and stopped the car outside her block of flats. Since I’d heard my phone ringing whilst I’d been driving, I reached into my bag to see who had called me. I was excited to find it was Glenn, and he had left me a message requesting to meet up.
‘Is that important?’ Lauren asked. ‘I was hoping we could talk some more.’
‘I’m afraid so. Rain check?’
She frowned. ‘Are you meeting Glenn?’
‘No …’ I felt caught out. She must have heard him using the same phrase and made the connection. ‘It’s something else.’
She did not reply.
‘I’m sorry Lauren. I’m not dismissing you intentionally. We can meet up some other day, can’t we?’
‘Yeah, of course.’ She unclipped her seat belt and reached for the door handle. ‘Thanks for today.’
‘My pleasure. Austin is a good kid. I’m sure I’ll be able to get through to him. It’s just going to take a little time.’
‘I wish I had your confidence,’ she said and left the car.
I regarded her with sympathy and watched her leave. I had to agree that she was in a terrible situation, yet at the same time, I wondered how much of it was self-inflicted. Maybe if the moment she had realised her error she had done everything that was possible to rectify the situation then she might not be in this position. According to Glenn, her sympathy towards her son had been a long time coming. If I believed what he told me, and I had no reason not to, then it didn’t seem as though she had supported Austin from the time of his arrest to his imprisonment. Such behaviour seemed inexplicable and I struggled to understand her motives.
A tinkling sound on my phone caused me to jerk.
It was Glenn and a smile formed on my face.
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I was just about to call you.’
‘So is it a yes?’
‘It is. I’m just outside Lauren’s flat about to go home. Where are you?’
‘I’m parked at the bottom of the road. I left just after you did. Austin’s fine.’
I turned to look. There was one car there and I noticed the occupant waving at me. I assumed it was Glenn. ‘I can see you.’
‘Do you want to take your car home and we’ll go somewhere in mine.’
‘Thanks. That would be great. Follow me.’
‘Will do.’
During my short journey home, my heart remained lifted and the hope of enjoying a pleasurable afternoon stayed in my thoughts. I didn’t find Glenn stunningly attractive, although I couldn’t deny feeling flattered by his eagerness to go out with me. I’d found him to be pleasant company and believed he would be someone I could trust should I wish to share anything unpleasant or difficult regarding Lauren and Austin. However, in reality, I hoped that neither of them would enter our conversation for prolonged periods and that we could have fun discussing other matters.
I reached home, parked my car outside the front of the house, and since Matt was inside, I decided to pop in to tell him what I was doing.
‘That sounds positive,’ he said and glanced through the window at Glenn waiting in his car. ‘Didn’t you fancy bringing him in for a bit? I have classes soon, so you’d have had the place to yourself.’
‘It’s a bit soon for that. We haven’t spoken for long. I’ve spent most of my time with Lauren and her son.’
He held a firm stare.
‘Okay, I’ll be off.’
‘Before you go, your mother’s been on the phone. She says you’re ignoring her calls.’
‘I wonder why!’
‘Be warned. She’s on the warpath.’
‘Okay, thanks, Matt.’
Whilst hurrying out of the house, I considered my mother’s angry state. I wasn’t afraid of her, but I did wish she wouldn’t be so harsh in her opinions and regarding me. I had enough to deal with without having to try to pacify her as well.
My irritation must have remained in my expression as when I entered Glenn’s car, he commented on my dark look. I felt a little embarrassed and said it was nothing. In response, he teased me for having a scary expression, which, of course, I denied, and we started to laugh.
‘So, is your housemate bugging you?’ he asked as he turned on the car engine.
‘No. Matt’s great. If you must know, I’ve ignored a few of my mother’s calls lately. He told me she’s on the warpath.’
‘Oh dear. Don’t you get on?’
‘We get on in small doses. It’s a recent thing. I’ve …’ I hesitated, struggling for appropriate words. ‘I’ve let her down.’
‘I’m intrigued.’
‘I must add that it’s quite easy to do that. I love her to bits, but she is hard work. She has high standards.’
‘Yours seem pretty high too. I recognise class when I see it.’
I grinned. ‘What are you after?’
He smiled back. ‘You can’t blame a man for trying. Now, where would you like to go? Somewhere quiet or noisy?
‘That depends on whether you want to talk or not?’
‘Then we’ll go somewhere quiet. Do you fancy stopping off at the photographic exhibition in Lockwood? I’ve heard it’s good and no doubt they do coffees too.’
‘That sounds perfect.’
We chatted easily for the duration of the journey, although not about anything personal but subjects relating to comments on the radio such as music and films. The more we talked, the more I warmed to his easy-going personality and I wanted to know more about him. I decided to start by asking him about his interest in photography.
‘It’s just a hobby,’ he said. ‘I’m not very good but I know enough to recognise quality when I see it. Some people manage to capture some amazing things.’
‘Have you been to this exhibition before?’
‘Not this year. A competition runs every year with somewhere between twenty and thirty categories and subcategories. The theme this year is family life and the winning
photograph in each category will be there, along with one or two runners-up. The exhibition moves around the country. It’s the turn of Lockwood Hall this week and Cherryton House next week.’
‘Is there a sponsor?’
‘There is.’ He regarded me with pride and amusement. ‘I’m surprised you ask.’
‘The exhibition sounds familiar to me for some reason. I can’t think why.’
‘Gardeen Foods is the main sponsor this year. It’s a small company. I doubt you’ve heard of them.’
‘Actually, I have. Doesn’t that surprise you?’
He grinned. ‘It does. How come?’
‘My sister worked there for a while.’
He didn’t reply and after a couple of moments, he indicted right, progressed through an estate, and turned into a car park where he stopped the car. The car park had enough spaces for about forty spaces and at a rough guess was three-quarters full. There was a sign for the exhibition near the entrance and it indicated that it was open until eight o’clock.
We left the car and strode to the entrance, passing a group of teenagers standing in the doorway before we progressed inside. The exhibition was set in the main hall of the historic manor house, and whilst we were able to visit the other rooms, we decided against it and progressed to the exhibition.
As we fought our way through the hubbub at the entrance, I started to fear it would be too busy for us to see the photographs in a comfortable manner. However, once we’d passed into the hall, it was quieter than I’d expected. Some of the photographs had a crowd around them; others were free of people.
We picked a quiet spot to start, noted the category was ‘faces’, and gazed at the photograph of a laughing child looking through a photo frame. Whilst it was a pleasant enough image, I didn’t consider it worthy of a prize and moved on to the next. That one was more appealing to me and was a heavily wrinkled man in a chair, holding a newspaper and laughing. Alongside was a puzzled child. Not only was the composition good, but it also piqued my interest and made me consider the differences in humour between the generations. Before I moved on, I noted the photographer was a man going by the name of Charles Emmett. Even though the card underneath told me he had won other amateur competitions, the name meant nothing to me.
We progressed around the room both commenting on the photographs within each of the categories and picking our favourites. Glenn liked one in the ‘daily chores’ category of a little girl sulking in a messy bedroom, and I liked one in the ‘mealtimes’ category of a family around the table. For me, it wasn’t so much the content that appealed but the composition and expressions on the faces of the people within the photo.
We continued to the remaining section that was an ‘outdoors’ category and progressed along the row of six photographs. By now, I was growing bored and arrived at the end far sooner than Glenn. I was surprised to learn he was still studying the first image, which was of a dog stealing food at a family picnic.
‘That’s good,’ I said, trying to sound interested.
He didn’t comment nor did he look at me. In fact, he seemed a little solemn. I couldn’t determine why.
I glanced at the card beneath and noticed the photographer was a woman by the name Jodi Tryst. Regrettably, she had taken her life shortly after taking the photograph.
‘Have you seen this?’ I said, pointing at the card. ‘It says she killed herself. She was only thirty-five, too.’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘So, I noticed.’
‘What a waste of a life.’
‘Talent, too,’ he said and walked away.
I hurried after him. He didn’t look at the remaining photos but hurried past loitering individuals before leaving the hall.
‘Shall we have a coffee?’ I asked. ‘That sign says there’s a café along there somewhere.’
Glenn agreed and we walked in silence along a corridor to a large glass extension at the end. It wasn’t a sizeable room; the furniture was mid-range, the floor tiled, and the curtains lemon-colour with a simple and unobtrusive floral pattern. Pleased to see a few vacant tables, we joined the queue, and a minute or two later, we purchased a coffee each, and as a treat, a piece of cake.
We arrived at a table, and since Glenn’s sudden and unexpected silence was making me feel awkward, I started to talk about the exhibition and voiced my enjoyment. It seemed to draw him out, and after a few minutes, his low mood had gone and he was chatty and animated once more.
Briefly, I wondered what had bothered him, but then I decided I knew nothing of Glenn or his life, and I was in no position to judge him or question him. Instead, I chatted about other exhibitions and shows I’d visited, and we searched for common ground.
‘Okay,’ I said, ‘so you’ve never been to any exhibitions, bar this one.’
‘Not one. If there’s something I’m interested in, I’ll look at it online.’
‘That’s not the same,’ I said in a teasing tone. ‘You have to see some things in person to truly appreciate them. It’s just not the same looking at things on a computer screen.’
He seemed amused. ‘It is to me.’
‘Then there’s something wrong with you.’ I sipped my coffee. ‘What kind of person are you?’
‘The kind who’d do everything from a computer.’
‘That’d be right. You know what?’ I asked and paused. ‘You’re unbelievable.’
Glenn smirked.
‘There must be somewhere you’d like to go to in the flesh.’
‘No.’
‘No!’ I screeched. ‘You go to football matches.’
‘They’re the exception. I’m a simple man with simple tastes. I value people more than possessions.’
‘So do I, but …’ My voice trailed as I considered the material things I liked to own.
‘You doubt yourself.’
‘No.’
‘You do.’ He grinned. ‘It’s not a put-down. It’s what makes you, you.’
‘Oh boy, that’s cheesy. Is that the best you can do?’
Glenn laughed and then so did I, and our eyes locked. I sensed a moment of intense emotion passing between us, and my pulse quickened. I liked him a lot and felt I could be myself with him and that I didn’t need to put on an affectation of superiority. I hadn’t had that feeling for a while. Since I separated from my boyfriend a few weeks ago, I’d felt uncomfortable with many men. Glenn was definitely different. I suspected he must know about my suspension, but he didn’t mention it, nor had he asked about my conversation with Austin. His discretion was something I appreciated.
Considering his behaviour aroused my curiosity. Not only did I wonder if he knew of the difficult situation that I was in, but I also wondered about him. I’d gathered from his contact card that he had a fireworks business, yet that was more or less all I knew. As far as I was concerned, he was a secretive man.
‘You know, it’s weird,’ I said, drawing his attention. ‘I feel like I’ve known you forever, yet I don’t know anything about you.’
A twinkle formed in his eye. ‘There’s not a lot to know.’
‘I’m sure there is. You gave me a card earlier. Do you run a fireworks business?’
He shook his head. ‘Not any more. I gave up the licence.’
‘Okay, so what do you do?’
‘This and that.’
‘No doubt via the internet.’
He laughed. ‘Got it in one. More interestingly, what drew you to nursing?’
I gulped, the thought of discussing my suspension causing my nervousness to rise. ‘I love caring for people and helping them at their most vulnerable. But I … I might have to move to something else.’
‘Why would you do that? You seemed to have a natural affinity with people.’
‘I could say that about you.’
He narrowed his gaze.
‘You get on well with Austin.’
‘He’s a great kid—reminds me a bit of myself at that age. I had a troubled upbringing. I didn’t have much to do wit
h my father, and my mother ….’ He stared. ‘Let’s just say she had better things to do than to care for me.’
‘You seemed to have turned out all right.’
His expression tightened and he shrugged.
‘What’s happened since? Have you always lived alone?’
His gaze wandered to his phone. He must have heard me but seemed to be making it clear that he didn’t wish to respond to me, presumably because he’d been involved in a difficult relationship. Aware that I too had my secrets, I told him that it didn’t matter and took the final mouthful of coffee.
‘It didn’t work out,’ he said firmly. ‘So tell me, Ebony, why are you considering leaving nursing?’
‘Something’s happened, something that wasn’t my fault.’ Droplets of perspiration formed on my brow. ‘I’ve been treated unfairly.’
‘That’s too bad.’ He gazed at the clock. ‘I guess we should get going, it’s getting late.’
I agreed, picked up my jacket and bag, and followed him out of the café and towards the exit of the main building leading to the car park.
‘This sounds rude but I’m afraid I have to be somewhere,’ he said. ‘But I would like to see you again if I may.’
I smiled. ‘I’d like that, too.’
‘Great. When’s your next shift? Perhaps we could work around it.’
Suffering a rush of distress, I lowered my head, stepped through the door, and hurried towards his car.
‘Ebony?’
I stopped at his car and looked at my feet. ‘It … it could be awhile.’
‘Go on.’
‘I’ve been suspended.’
‘No way. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.’
‘I thought you’d seen the newspaper.’
He passed me a questioning stare.
‘It happened just before Lauren’s suicide attempt. The reporter said I was hoping for a reprieve by helping her. It … it never crossed my mind. I did it because I had to and because she was a patient and friend. She’d confided in me and … and I suspected she was going to do it.’ I shot him a glance. ‘But I wasn’t certain that’s what was on her mind else I’d have told someone about it. Then you arrived and … and …’ My voice drifted, my thoughts muddling.