A Song of Isolation

by Michael Malone

  She fished her phone out of her pocket and dialled him.

  It went to his answering service. She ended the call. Then, re­considering, she dialled again, this time leaving a message.

  ‘Dad, I’m going over to see Dave Robbins and Amelie.’ She spoke just above a whisper, mindful of the people around her. ‘I think Cammy’s going over there and I’m scared about what he’s going to do.’

  She stared at her phone for a moment. What if Dad didn’t get there? What if he didn’t check his messages until it was too late. The police. She had to call the police.

  ‘999 – what’s your emergency?’

  She blurted everything out. ‘Hurry. You have to send someone out there. Now. Hurry.’

  As she remembered the look on her uncle’s face before he charged away, all the veiled warnings her father had given her about Cammy edged into her mind. ‘Just be careful,’ he’d said so many times, then refused to say why. There was one Christmas dinner the year before Dave went to prison. Her gut twisted. How could she have seen this event any other way? She’d allowed the time of year, the number of presents piled on the table to distract her.

  Her grandparents had invited them all out to a local hotel for dinner, and even insisted they’d pay. Dad had been unhappy about it from the moment it was suggested. Damaris overheard him say to her mother that he knew who was really paying and no way was he taking money from a crook.

  Mum managed to placate him and they’d gone. But between courses, Damaris had gone to the toilet, and while washing her hands, she’d heard shouting from the other side of the wall, and then a crash. She walked out of the ladies in time to see her Uncle Cammy leave the gents, a dark look on his face. He was followed moments later by her father, squaring his tie and tucking one side of his shirt back into his trousers. In the moment she’d read the look on his face and saw only irritation; but now, she recalled that expression and could only translate it as fear. Whatever Cammy had said to Dad in that toilet he’d interpreted it as a threat.

  She was at Dave’s gate and with relief saw there was only one car in the drive. A white one. Maybe Cammy wasn’t here. Maybe he didn’t know where Dave lived.

  Shaking her head, she dismissed that as a faint hope. When Cammy had left her mother’s there was no doubt in his move­ments. He knew exactly where he was going. And if she’d found Dave’s house easily enough it wasn’t going to present any difficulty to her uncle.

  She looked up at the house. There was a lamp on in the porch, and over to the right, light shone through the closed curtains of a large bay window. Someone was inside, but she couldn’t make out who.

  From this vantage point, the house and the neighbourhood all looked calm. Just like any other street, in any other town. She turned to the left and looked back down from where she came. A car was approaching. She shrunk from it, afraid it might be Cammy and that somehow she’d made it over here before he did. All but hugging the wall at the side of the gate, with relief she noted that the car’s speed remained steady and as it passed she saw that it held a female driver.

  Then as she watched the car, she saw, parked just a few houses down, Cammy’s Range Rover.

  Shit.

  She took a few tentative steps towards it. Craned her neck. It looked like it was empty.

  He was here already.

  Who knew what he was actually capable of? She checked her phone again for her father. No response. Thought about calling the police again. They’d said they would send someone over here. If she called again might they think she was just a crank and cancel their call?

  She couldn’t risk it. It was up to her.

  All of this was her fault and she’d have to fix it.

  With that thought, she set steel to her spine, clenched her teeth and braced herself for whatever she might find. Opening the gate, she prayed that she was going to be on time.

  She’d just reached the front door when she heard a scream. A woman – in pain or fear, she couldn’t tell.

  Amelie.

  Without a further thought she pushed open the door.

  Another scream.

  It sounded like it was coming from behind a door at the other side of the large hall. Her heart about to burst out of her chest, she crossed the tiled floor, and girding herself against what she might find, she pushed the door open. What she saw was worse than anything her imagination could have invented.

  Dave was on the floor, curled up on his side, hands behind him as if he was tied up. Amelie was on her knees beside him, hands thrown up in a defensive gesture. Her uncle Cameron was holding something to her head.

  A gun.

  Chapter 63

  Damaris took in the scene with a detached sense of horror. This couldn’t be real. Dave was on the floor, deathly still. Amelie looked up from him to Cameron, then to Damaris at the door. Her mouth moved as if in slow motion. She was saying something that Damaris’s mind couldn’t compute.

  Then Damaris’s mind snapped back into reality with the power of a lightning bolt.

  ‘Uncle Cammy,’ she shouted. ‘Stop.’

  He turned to look at her, his face long with surprise. ‘D! Get away from here.’

  ‘Stop.’ She charged across the room. ‘You can’t do this. They did nothing.’

  ‘Damaris, doll. I know you’ve got a kind heart and everything, but you can’t be here,’ Cammy said. To Damaris’s relief, he moved the gun behind his back.

  ‘Damaris, phone the police. Please,’ Amelie cried.

  ‘Don’t do anything, D. Just leave,’ Cammy said as he stepped towards her.

  Dave was very still. Not caring how Cammie might react, she ran over to him and knelt by his side. There was blood just above his right ear, his face was the colour of putty and his eyes were rolling back in his head.

  With a charge of relief she noticed his chest was rising and falling. ‘What did you do to him?’ She turned to her uncle.

  ‘Get the hell out of here,’ he snapped. In a flash he was by her side and pulling her to her feet. ‘Go,’ he shouted and shoved her towards the door.

  She stumbled with the force of his push, but corrected herself and turned, mustering as much defiance as she was able. ‘No. You can’t do this. Dave did nothing wrong. He never touched me. Ever.’

  ‘Enough,’ Cammy shouted. ‘You’re leaving if I have to drag you out.’ He reached for her again.

  ‘No,’ Damaris screamed, and as she did so she stepped towards him and stamped on his foot with her heel.

  Cammy yelled, dropped to one knee and as he did so the gun fell from his grip. Damaris dived and got to it first. Cammy lurched towards her. She jumped out of his reach, and feeling the weight of the weapon in her hand she pointed it at him.

  ‘Whoa,’ he said. ‘Hang on, honey. Don’t be pointing that at anyone.’

  ‘You need to listen to me,’ Damaris said. The importance of what she was doing hit her and she was aware the gun was wob­bling in her grip.

  ‘D, honey, you need to give me that gun. It’s loaded and the trigger is off.’ He was moving away from her as he spoke. ‘Just the slightest pressure…’

  She waved it at him, suddenly feeling very powerful and even more frightened at the same time. What if this went off by acci­dent? She didn’t want to kill Cammy, just stop him from causing any more harm.

  ‘Give me the gun,’ he roared, taking a step towards her, as if his fear of being accidentally shot was overcome by his temper.

  ‘No,’ she replied. ‘No.’ She willed more strength into her arms and held the gun up. This time moving the barrel closer to her head. ‘You need to listen, Uncle Cammy. Please.’

  ‘Honey, move that gun away from you,’ Amelie said. She was still on her knees by Dave’s side. ‘I’m sure we can talk about this properly.’

  Cammy shot Amelie a look of surprise, but then he echoed her statement. ‘Yeah, D, we can talk about this pr
operly. Calmly.’ He held a hand out for the gun.

  ‘Dave didn’t touch me,’ Damaris shouted. ‘I fell off my bike. Mum was desperate for cash so she made up the story about him, and before she knew it the lie had grown so big she couldn’t stop it.’

  ‘You might believe that.’ Cammy narrowed his eyes. He clearly didn’t believe her. ‘But we all know that’s not true. This man mo­lested you. And he’s got to pay.’

  ‘That’s the thing. He didn’t, Uncle Cammy. You’ve got to believe me.’ As Damaris spoke she began to cry. She hated showing that weakness. ‘He was lovely. He did nothing but nice things for me and you’ve been horrible to him. I never want to see you again.’

  ‘Aww, babes,’ he said. ‘Don’t be silly.’ He sounded calm, but there was a look in his eyes she was now beginning to understand. She was seeing her much-loved uncle for who he really was; she nearly sagged under the realisation. The gun grew too heavy and her arm dropped.

  ‘Give me the bloody gun,’ he shouted.

  ‘No.’ She found the energy to lift the gun high and once again pressed it to the side of her head. ‘You don’t believe me yet. Maybe you will if I kill myself.’ She gritted her teeth, knowing she was in­capable of carrying out the threat but desperate that he should believe her. ‘It won’t be the first time I gave that a try.’

  ‘What?’ Amelie cried. ‘No, baby, no.’

  ‘Whoa,’ Cammy said, holding both hands up. ‘You’ve got to stop all this silly talk about killing yourself. I know you were cutting, but this is a whole other story.’

  ‘You were cutting … oh, Damaris,’ said Amelie. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Her concern was like a shot of warm emotion through Damaris’s body.

  ‘You should be sorry,’ Cammy turned on her. ‘You and your sick boyfriend.’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, Cammy,’ Damaris shouted. ‘Will you bloody listen? This is all on my mother. Your sister.’

  ‘Give me peace,’ Cammy replied.

  ‘And my dad,’ Damaris added sadly. ‘Her idea, but he was just as bad.’

  The line of his shoulders drooped a little and Damaris thought she may be actually getting through to him. His eyes darted around the room as if he was unsure where he should look. ‘But, he was found guilty.’

  ‘It was a lie, Uncle Cammy. They planted all this stuff in my head. Made me believe it, but it was all a lie.’ She aimed this last part at Amelie and Dave. This was her explanation, her partial apology for what they went through. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said to Amelie.

  Cammy studied her face.

  ‘Give me the gun.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I won’t shoot anyone.’

  Damaris caught a look of concern from Amelie.

  ‘If you’re not going to shoot anyone then you don’t need this gun,’ she replied.

  ‘You were never raped? So why were you cutting yourself?’ Cammy demanded.

  ‘Guilt,’ Damaris replied. She wasn’t sure where the word came from but she felt the truth of it as it slipped anchor from her tongue. ‘The policewoman and my mum and dad persuaded me I’d been hurt, but I knew, somewhere deep inside I knew that the words they were making me say weren’t true. That it was all a lie.’ She was aware that her face was wet. With a free hand she tried to wipe it dry.

  ‘Honey,’ Amelie said. ‘None of this is your fault.’

  Cammy looked at Amelie as if she was a complete stranger, as if the words she was uttering should come from another’s mouth.

  ‘You can sit there and shut up,’ he told Amelie, but Damaris could hear there was no conviction in his tone. As if something about Amelie’s genuine concern for her had edged the truth onto a more solid footing in his mind.

  He turned to Damaris. ‘C’mon, honey, we’re family.’

  ‘Family?’ Damaris spat. ‘I’m ashamed of the lot of you. If it wasn’t bad enough that they set up Dave as a paedophile, you then stole Amelie’s money.’

  ‘It was only a piddling amount,’ Cammy replied. ‘We could have had more if we’d been really clever.’

  At this Damaris noticed Amelie’s head go up.

  ‘You helped Claire take a few thousand? Who took the rest?’

  ‘You lost more?’ Cammy’s eyes brightened as he asked the ques­tion. ‘How do you like them apples?’

  ‘If it wasn’t you, who was it?’ Amelie demanded.

  ‘Don’t have a clue, doll. If I did I’d be sending them a quick toast.’ He held a hand up as if it was holding a pint of beer.

  ‘You and Mum’s big cars?’ Damaris studied the look of pleasure on Cammy’s face and wasn’t sure she believed him. ‘Matching Range Rovers is a bit clichéd, isn’t it? How could she afford one of them?’

  ‘Don’t sneer, D.’ Cammy took a step forward as he spoke. ‘I owed your mother big. Money came through from the States. I paid her back.’

  ‘She did time for you, didn’t she?’ Amelie asked, as if the thought just entered her head.

  Cammy’s eyes narrowed, as if he wanted to strike her. Damaris moved a little making sure she and the gun were in his line of sight.

  A siren sounded in the distance.

  ‘You didn’t phone the police, did you?’ Cammy demanded, back on high alert.

  ‘You should go before they get here,’ she replied.

  ‘My own niece grassing me up…’ Anger sparked in his eyes.

  ‘Hurry.’ She felt a momentary sting – she was letting him down. And then she was immediately disappointed at herself for feeling that way.

  ‘Hurry,’ she repeated.

  ‘What about…?’ He nodded towards the weapon.

  Realising he was about to acquiesce Damaris allowed herself to relax a little. ‘I’ll give it to your sister.’ Saying ‘Mum’ was momen­tarily beyond her. ‘She can get it back to you.’ It was a lie. She was going to make sure it went to the police.

  ‘If it gets into police hands…’

  Damaris was chilled by that statement. What else had her uncle been up to?

  The siren grew louder.

  ‘Before you go,’ she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket, placing it on the sideboard next to her and bringing the handle of the gun crashing down on it. ‘Don’t be following me. I don’t want to see you ever again.’

  ‘Damaris…’

  ‘You disgust me.’ She was trembling now, and didn’t care that he could see it.

  ‘What?’ She’d hit home. ‘This was all for you, Damaris. For you.’

  ‘That’s the story you tell yourself, Uncle Cammy, but this was for you. I was your excuse to give in to all that … anger and ambi­tion. It was horrible what happened to Mindy, but you can’t use me as a replacement.’

  At the mention of his dead daughter’s name Cammy reared back as if she had tried to shoot him.

  ‘This is all about you, Uncle Cammy. Your need for power. You want to be the big man. The new Glasgow gangster. The man that everybody has to fear, and it’s just so…’ she struggled to find exactly the right word; ‘…pathetic.’

  ‘D, please…’ he began.

  ‘I see you now, Uncle Cammy,’ she said. ‘Now go before the cops arrive.’ As she spoke she felt relief: she was safe from him now and from his twisted version of love.

  Throwing one last look of defiance and thwarted fury at Damaris, Cammy ran from the room and towards the back of the house. Moments later a door slammed shut.

  Damaris forced a breath and then turned to Dave and Amelie.

  Dave was motionless, Amelie on her knees beside him, her face turned up to Damaris in a plea for help. Her voice and expression were full of anguish.

  ‘I can’t feel a pulse,’ she cried. ‘I can’t feel a pulse.’

  Chapter 64

  Amelie was back in a hospital. But this time the outcome was going to be a happier one. Dave was mostly doing well. Con­cussion, and some bumps and bru
ises, so the medical staff wanted to keep an eye on him.

  Eventually, he fell asleep, so Amelie dropped onto the chair at the side of his bed, cadged a blanket from a passing nurse and settled in for a long night.

  Fractured scenes played through her mind. The look of pleasure on Cameron’s face as he stood over Dave with his gun. His denial about the money. Damaris standing up to her uncle. Feeling almost weak with relief when Cameron ran out of the back door just as the police came in the front.

  She didn’t think she’d ever be able to thank the young woman enough. There was no doubt she’d saved both her and Dave’s lives.

  After Damaris had given her statement to the police they let her go with a promise to stay available should they need to speak to her again. She agreed without a quibble, but demanded that she stay with Amelie and Dave until they got to the hospital and she was sure Dave was not going to die.

  Eventually, after the paramedics had arrived and performed their checks, confirming Dave would survive, she’d allowed Amelie to arrange for a taxi to take her to her friend, Chrissie’s place.

  Before she got into the cab Amelie placed a little piece of paper in her hand.

  ‘It’s my number. Call me when you get home. Call me tomor­row morning and let me know you’re alright. Just … call me, will you? I can’t thank you enough.’

  ‘Hey.’ Damaris ducked her head, pink with pleasure. ‘It was the least I could do.’

  They hugged, hard, one more time and then Damaris left.

  What an amazing young woman she was turning into, Amelie thought as she reached for Dave’s hand and was reassured by the warmth of his skin. She regarded his sleeping profile and won­dered about the waste of the last few years.

  Her phone rang.

  ‘Bernard,’ she said, fighting to rouse herself from her thoughts.

  ‘I just saw you on TV,’ he said, his voice high with panic. ‘Oh dear lord. Are you safe? Are you well? How’s Dave?’

  She caught him up with what had happened, and just as she was finishing she was alerted to another call. This time from Lisa.