40

Michael

 

 

“No change really,” he relayed to Lucy, who reported back that she was now past the morning sickness stage, and her trousers were starting to get too tight.  “Just lies on the sofa all day smoking.”

“Drinking?”

“Nah, not really.  Not since that weekend.”

A sigh followed on her end of the phone, and it made Michael wince, because  it was one of the saddest noises he had ever heard.  “He’s not said anything about me?” She always asked him this.  Every phone call was identical to the last. “About the baby?”

“Not really, Lucy,” Michael would tell her reluctantly. “He’s not really saying anything darling.  Not to anyone.”

“Could be some sort of breakdown….”

“His mum says that.  But I think he’ll be alright.”

“Alright then,” she would sigh again.  “Keep in touch.”

Hanging up the phone, Michael paused in the hallway, hands in pockets.  It had been a week since Danny’s weekend bender had enabled him to finish his interview with Caroline Haskell.  In some ways Michael could well understand him needing to get drunk to do it.  Going over the past like that, while treacherous things reared their heads in the present, was like raking over old wounds, digging up scars and letting the blood run fresh.  He looked at his friend now, sprawled on the sofa, eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest while Kurt snored on his legs.  It had done him in, one way or another, that much was obvious.

Michael thought back to the night Caroline Haskell had called him to help get Danny home from the pub.  He had arrived urgently, to find his friend could not walk.  Tony had held the door open, finding it hard to look Michael in the eye. He and Caroline dragged Danny home together.  She had helped them up to the flat, tucked a piece of paper into Danny’s pocket, kissed him on the forehead and left.  Michael had covered him with a blanket and gone to bed, only to wake hours later to the sound of vomit splashing into the toilet bowl.

Danny had remained pretty much the same since then.  On the sofa.  In his own head, not reaching out to anyone.  He sometimes took out the piece of paper Caroline Haskell had left for him and stared at it silently.  Michael guessed it was the final address; the location of Jerry Howard.  Michael could not blame him for taking his time with it.  It was the final piece of the puzzle, he mused.  Meeting with the man who had helped create the monster who had tortured him.  Michael looked at him now and could barely begin to comprehend how it must feel for him.  He didn’t blame him one bit for the bender that had led to this.  He could not imagine how he would have raked over the past for Haskell any other way. 

The past, that was one thing.  A place of fear and despair.  Then there were eight lost years, eight years! Michael still had trouble coming to terms with that.  Eight years, eight years older, all of them.  He sometimes found himself wondering what that must do to someone.  To go into a place basically a child, and to come back out a grown man, having missed everything in between.

His phone started ringing again, and as he searched his pocket for it, he glanced back at Danny, whose eyes opened momentarily at the sound of the ringing phone.  It was Anthony.  “Hey, you okay?”

“Fine, how is he?”

“The same.  Glued to the sofa and listening to Neil Young.”

“Oh right.  What’s the plan though?  When are you going to see Jerry Howard?  I want to come.”

“I don’t know,” Michael sighed. “No plan yet.  I’m still trying to get him to speak, or whatever.”

“What about Lucy?”

“I just spoke to her.  She’s doing fine.  She’s thinking about coming over to see him, but she doesn’t know if it’ll make things worse or better.”

“Worth a try,” said Anthony. “She could be the one he opens up to. Any more bother?”

“Nothing,” Michael shrugged, as he wandered slowly up and down the hallway. “Fuck all.”

“Well that’s something. And what about the precious article then?  Has Haskell done it?  Has she let him seen it or what?”

Michael turned around when he reached the door, and walked back up towards the lounge again. “No idea,” he told Anthony. “I’ve not heard a thing and he won’t switch his phone on half the time.”

Anthony wished him luck and hung up.  Michael released his breath and slid his phone back into his pocket.  He stayed like that for a few moments, hands in pockets in the hallway, staring in at Danny on the sofa.  He thought for the hundredth time, what shall I do?  What can I do? I don’t know what to do.  Just like back then.  I don’t know what to do to help. His fisst clenched slowly within his pockets.  He remembered easily the extent of his rage and frustration as a boy, knowing what was happening to his friend, seeing the evidence on a daily basis, and not knowing what the fuck to do.  At one point it had seemed so simple.  Anthony.  His older brother. Always so self-assured, so steely and tough.  Anthony would be out of prison and he would sort it out.  He would send Lee Howard running for the hills. Michael had believed in this passionately, unwaveringly, savouring the day when it finally came.  It had been such a shock to discover he was wrong.  That Anthony was really just a hapless kid like them, that anyone could rip the ground from under their feet and change everything, ruin everything.  The morning he had returned home from camping out, to see his brother being hauled from the house in handcuffs, remained a powerful image in his mind. For so long he had stared up at his older brother, regarding him as something untouchable, unshakeable, almost God-like.  That day he had seen a scared kid, terrified of going back to prison, shocked to the core that someone had set him up.

Anthony had never been the same since, Michael knew it.  He had returned from prison a year later.  Everything had changed.  Freeman and Howard were in control, holding the strings tightly in their greedy hands.  Danny had been lost to him.  Just a ghostly figure that flitted in and out of the background, trying to remain unseen, trying to shield the rest of them from the same fate.  Michael had never experienced such helpless anger.  He ranted and raged and pestered the Headteacher at the school, and then the police, begging people to check on Danny, begging the adults to believe him.  There was never anything he could do. 

There’s got to be something I can do.

“What are you staring at Mike?” Danny’s voice rose sleepily from the sofa.  Michael sighed and came forward.  He saw Danny had his blanket pulled right up to his nose, such was the coldness of the flat. 

“You, you idiot.”

“What for?”

“Trying to figure out what to do, that’s all,” Michael dropped into the armchair, crossing one leg over the other and tapping his palms against the armrests. 

“Mmm?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, thumping the armrests. “No one knows.  See? Useless, I fucking am.  Some fucking friend.” He nodded seriously as Danny opened his eyes and turned his head to stare at him.  “Yeah, that’s right.  Some fucking friend I am.  Couldn’t do a thing to help you back then, and still can’t do a fucking thing now.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Danny told him.  “It’s not even your problem.  You have to learn to let go sometimes.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Michael questioned angrily. “Let go of you?”

“I mean, let go of feeling responsible.  Forget about thinking it’s your fault you can’t do anything.”

“You have to let us help you Danny,” Michael said then, sitting forward with urgency, and planting his elbows on his knees. “I mean it mate, you have to let us, all of us, otherwise they have all won, you know?  They’ll have won!” Danny’s brow creased at him in reply.  “Can’t you see?” Michael persisted. “Back then, Howard and Freeman, they wanted you isolated.  They wanted us gone.  You and your mum, driven apart.  Anthony in jail.  Lucy fucks off ‘cause they’ve got you off your head the whole time, you see?  You see?  And look at us now Danny, look at us now!” Michael looked to his friend for a response, but Danny merely shifted under his blanket and closed his eyes again.  “It’s happened again,” Michael told him.  “You and your mum, Anthony pushed out, you and Lucy not talking even though she’s carrying your fucking child! Now you’re even pushing me out.  You’re letting them win! You’re letting them get you all alone yet again!”

Danny’s eyes snapped open and he pushed himself aggressively up on one elbow to glare back at Michael.  “I know what the old man wants alright?  I know.  That’s what I’ve been trying to get my head around.  My mum told me.”

Michael stared at him silently.  “What?  What did she tell you?  How does she know?”

“She went to see Jack.  Last night, a week after we did.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Danny shrugged at him.  “Must have been on her mind, or whatever.  She phoned and told me what he told her.  What Jerry Howard wants.  And this,” he paused as he dug urgently into his pocket, before pulling his hand back out and holding up the piece of paper Michael had watched Caroline Haskell give him a week earlier.  “This! This is his fucking phone number! So it’s all fucking here Mike, it’s all right here, all I have to do is phone him up and arrange to meet him!”

“Alright, alright,” Michael held up his hands. “Calm down.  Let’s talk then.  Fuck all this silence.  Tell me then.”

Danny sunk back down onto the sofa, his hands and the piece of paper disappearing under the blanket.  He pressed the side of his head against the sofa and exhaled loudly.  “Oh Mike..for fucks sake.”

“Are you gonna’ tell me, or am I gonna’ get that fucking piece of paper off you and go and find Howard myself?” Michael had risen to his feet, glaring down at Danny, letting him know he was serious.

“I’ll tell you,” came the surly reply from the sofa.  Michael nodded firmly and sat back down.

“Come on then.”

Danny brought a hand back out and dropped his forehead to it.  “Christ’s sake,” he muttered, rubbing his hand into his eye.  “You’re such a fucking pain in the arse, such a fucking nosy dick!”

“Whatever, come on!”

“Alright!” Danny dropped his hand and faced Michael, his blue eyes flashing with anger.  “Alright.  He wants all the money back, all Lee’s fucking money, all the money my mum gave me, he wants it all back, that’s one! He wants me to move away from here, from all of you.  And he wants me to say sorry.”

Michael felt his jaw fall open.  He stared back at Danny, wrinkling his nose in confusion as the enormity of it, the sheer audacity washed over him.  And then he started to shake his head from side to side, his fingers clawing into the ragged armrests of the chair.  “You have got to be fucking joking.”

“No,” Danny replied dully, looking away again. “I’m not.  That’s what he told her.”

“Why didn’t he tell us that? When we saw him?”

“Don’t know,” Danny shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t know then.  I don’t know.  Maybe he was waiting. Fuck knows Mike.”

“What’s the phone number Dan?”

“It doesn’t matter right now.”

“Yes it does fucking matter!” Michael exploded, unable to stop himself leaping to his feet again.  He snatched the pack of cigarettes from the coffee table and pulled two out, flinging one at Danny, and sticking one between his lips.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” Danny corrected him, swinging his feet to the floor and sitting up to light his cigarette. “I’ve got to take my time.  Figure out what to do and how to do it first.”

“Okay, okay,” Michael liked the sound of that.  At least Danny wasn’t just going to do nothing.  He sat back down, smoking his cigarette, letting the calm creep slowly back through him.  “Anthony keeps phoning.  He wants in.  Whatever we do.  He won’t hear otherwise mate.”

Danny shrugged. “Okay.”

“Cool.  And what about Haskell?  Any word?  She’s had a good week to write her blasted article hasn’t she?”

“She wants to meet up,” Danny sighed. “She’s done the first draft apparently.  Wants to see what I think of it.”

“You should meet her,” said Michael.  “That woman’s like a leech you know, she good as sucked you dry doing that interview.  Do you even remember what you told her in the end?”

“I think I just told her everything,” Danny sighed again through his teeth, sucked on his cigarette and slumped back into the sofa.  “No point hiding anything or glossing it over. Just got it all out there, you know?  It was like throwing it all up for her.  It was disgusting.”

Michael watched him staring forlornly down at his own lap, and he felt the urge to get up again, slap him on the back and tell him to cheer up.  “But you did it,” he reminded him.  “That bit’s over.  You’ve ruled out Dennis and Jack.  You can close the door on those two. It’s just that one.  That one, and what he wants from you.”

“I know,” Danny said, slowly peeling himself away from the sofa, and standing up.  Michael watched him sway slightly, as if his legs had momentarily forgotten how to hold him up.  He yawned and stretched out his limbs, before walking stiffly around the sofa and heading to the window.

“My God,” Michael looked after him and smiled. “It can move.  It can leave the sofa. Jesus Christ, I thought you’d forgotten how.”

Danny leaned wearily against the wall by the window and stared down at the street below.  “Ha ha,” he replied.

“Hey maybe we ought to get ourselves out in training, you know?” Michael got up and joined him at the window.  “Start running or lifting weights or something?”

“Why?” Danny frowned at him.

“To kick their arses!” Michael laughed, nudging him.  “Show them we’re not little scrawny kids any more! Bloody Howard, he’s an old man isn’t he?  What’s he really gonna’ do or say when you me and Anthony show up?”

“He won’t be alone.”

Michael remembered the men in the pub that night and nodded.  “Well we’ll be ready.  One way or another.”

“I shouldn’t have done it you know.”

Michael stared at him, taken back.  “What?”

“I shouldn’t have done it Mike.”

“Done what?  What are you talking about?”

Danny was staring at the glass, not through it, as Michael had first thought, but just at it, just right at the glass, his blue eyes fixed there.  He held his cigarette in one hand, and seemed to have forgotten about it.  Michael glanced at the ash growing longer and longer before finally dropping off and landing on the windowsill.  “Killed him,” he whispered, barely moving his lips enough to let the words out.

Michael moved closer, watching his face, hearing the words and not understanding any of it.  “What do you mean?” he asked again.  “Why are you saying that?”

“Because I shouldn’t have done it,” Danny repeated, his eyes glassy. “I’ve been thinking about it non-stop, since finishing the interview.  Thought about nothing else.”

“You didn’t have a choice mate,” Michael said in confusion. “Remember what he did to you that night?  What he would have kept doing?”

“I had no right.”

“What?”

“I had no right to kill him Mike. I like to try and make out I had no choice, and I snapped, and I didn’t know what I was doing.  But there is more to it than that.  I had no right to do it.  I had no right to take his life, despite everything he had done.”

“Danny, don’t talk like that, you didn’t deserve what he did to you, you tried to get away, you…”

Danny smiled softly then, blinked and turned to look at Michael.  “You’re a good friend, and you’re always on my side Mike.  But I can’t help the way I feel.  I do wish I hadn’t done it.  If I could go back and see myself then I would tell myself to just run, run far far away, change my name, anything.  Or go to the police.  Go to the police and show them what he’d done.  Anything.  I wish I could go back Mike.  I wish I could grab hold of myself and look into my own eyes and say stop, just stop.  Don’t do it.  You’re gonna’ wreck the whole of your life and it will never be over no matter how much you think it will.”  He sighed massively and looked expectantly at his cigarette, which had gone out.

“You really feel like that?” Michael asked him.  He didn’t know what else to ask him, what else to say.  Danny nodded.

“Yep,” he said, turning slowly away from the window.  “I really do.”

“So what’re you gonna’ do?”

“Gonna’ try to make it right,” he called back.  “One way or another.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

41

Danny

 

 

                        Thinking.  He had never done so much thinking in his entire life, he thought, after he had left the flat and started walking.  He had used the alcohol to get it all out for Caroline, to spew it all up as he had explained to Michael, and that was exactly how it had felt.  Part vomiting up distasteful things he had buried for nearly a decade, and part ripping off a plaster to reveal the rotting flesh underneath, not healed after all, but still weeping, still there. 

            He hadn’t done much thinking back then, he remembered.  In fact he had done everything he could to avoid thinking too much.  Drinking, smoking pot, doing speed and coke, and other things, anything, anything to feel numb, to feel nothing.  That was how he had survived, that was how he had got through each day.  Prison had been similar, but without the drink and narcotics to help.  He had simply buried himself, he realised now, although at the time, keeping his head down and pushing it all away had merely seemed a useful survival tactic.

Now he considered that throwing it all up like that for Caroline, had maybe done him some good.  It hadn’t exactly felt that way at the time of course.  It had felt nothing short of vile.  He had needed the alcohol to force himself back there each time, to prise the memories from the grip of his mind.  He had needed the drink to stop caring, to stop feeling, and just let it all flow from him in a mindless babble.  He could just about remember what he had told Caroline before he had passed out.  It wasn’t hard to remember when it hurt so much.  He had told her everything.  He hadn’t missed out a thing.

And now, undeniably, he was starting to realise, that his head felt clearer.  He walked down the alley way and pulled out his phone, punched in her number and listened to it ring.  She picked up on the second ring.  “Danny?” She sounded alarmed and concerned.

“Hi can you meet me?  You said you had the article done and I’d like to read it.”

There was a pause.  He thought he heard something in the background, some noises, or voices?  “Hang on, where are you?”

“Just left home.  Can you meet me?”

“Yeah, give me twenty minutes.  At the pub?”

“Yeah, okay.”

She hung up and he brought up another number.  Lucy.  Just seeing her name there like that, was like a punch to the gut, taking all the wind out of him.  He sucked in his breath, and typed out the message he had been thinking about for weeks.  Hi.  We need to talk. His thumb hovered over the send button, his guts turning over inside of him.  He pressed send, took a deep breath and put his phone away again.

Inside the pub, he smiled gingerly at Tony and ordered a pint. “You’re not setting up camp again are you mate?” the man asked him, looking worried.  Danny grinned and shook his head.

“No mate, I promise.  Just one, then I’m off.”

“Alright then.”

He took his pint to the corner and sipped it patiently, waiting for her to turn up.  He had been back to some dark places to satisfy her thirst for answers, he had retraced all the steps for her.  He hoped she was going to be worth it.  His phone vibrated with a message just as the doors pushed open in the corner, revealing a flushed faced Caroline Haskell, flicking back her loose blonde hair as she marched into the pub.  Danny waved to her and dug out his phone.  I know.  When and where?  I miss you. He pushed it away again and offered Caroline a weak smile. “You were quick.”

“Was in a taxi anyway,” she shrugged, sitting down.  “Just made him do a diversion.  How are you?”

“Fine thanks, fine.  Better.  Better than I was.”

“Last time I saw you, I left you comatose on the sofa.  Dead to the world you were.  Bet you had a hell of a hangover the next day.”  She was wearing a beige mac, belted tightly around the waist, and she made no move to undo or remove it.  He wondered if she seemed different somehow, less warm, less enthusiastic.

“I was okay,” he replied. “Think it helped.  In a weird way I mean.  I think I needed to get hammered and bring it all up like that.”

“It’s helped you, you mean?”

“Yeah, sort of, maybe. Didn’t feel like it at the time,” he shrugged sheepishly, picking up his pint.  She was looking back at him, as if inspecting him, as if he was a stranger she was trying to suss out. Why are you looking at me like that? He wondered, we’ve slept together twice.

“You didn’t want to do the interview to start with,” she reminded him coolly. “Even though I said it could help you come to terms with things.”

“So is it done?” he asked, deciding to bring her back on course.  She leaned down briskly, snatching her bag from the floor and opening it up on her lap. 

“Yes, it’s done.  I’ve got a bit of a bidding war on my hands actually.”  She pulled out a clear plastic file and passed it across the table to him.  He took it unsurely, turning it over in his hands, suddenly transfixed by its existence now that it was here.  His life was quite simply lying in his own hands.  It was a bit of a mind fuck, to say the least.

“Really?” he asked, not knowing what she meant.

“Yes,” she said, her tone still matter of fact, bordering on the formal.  “There are three major national newspapers that want to print it. I’m trying to decide which one to go with.  Which would be the best move.”

“You mean, for your career?” he asked, and he didn’t mean it the way it sounded.  He was genuinely curious, having no idea how her world operated.

Caroline sighed at him, and made a face that conveyed she had expected him to say such a thing.  “It’s complicated,” she said with a small shrug.  “But there you go.  You have a read and see what you think.  If there’s anything you want me to change, I still can.”

“Okay,” Danny nodded.  “Fair enough.  Thank you.”

“And you got the phone number I gave you?”  She was regarding him with eyebrows arched.

“Oh yeah, I got it, thanks.  I haven’t done anything about it yet though.”

“Thinking it over?”

“Mmm.”

“Can’t blame you for that.  Not the nicest of people to deal with, that’s for sure.”

“No.  But I do know what the old man wants now, so I’m more prepared,” Danny nodded as her expression altered, her eyes narrowing in interest, her body leaning forward ever so slightly. “Had time to think about that too,” he went on. “Been thinking non-stop really.  Once the drink wore off I had no choice.  Came to a few conclusions.  Got a few things to sort out.”

She looked hungry again now.  He could see the change in her instantly, and it made him want to shut up, to keep things close to his chest again.  So he picked up his pint and drank the last few mouthfuls, with the plastic file in one hand.  “I better go,” he told her, registering the barely disguised dismay in her eyes.  “Thanks for giving me this.”

“You can’t stay for another?” Caroline asked, catching his arm as he stood up.  “I was just about to go to the bar.”

“No,” he smiled at her. “One is my limit for now.  Not going back there again, if you know what I mean.”

“Well, you could keep me company, because I bloody need one.  You can tell me these conclusions of yours?”

“Oh it’s nothing, nothing really, not yet.  Got more thinking to do.” He rolled the file into a tube and tapped the palm of his other hand with it.  “Got this to read!”

She tried to hide her disappointment, biting her bottom lip and shaking back her glossy hair.  He noticed she mostly did this when she felt uncomfortable, or rattled in some way.  He patted her shoulder.  “Thanks Caroline.  I’m looking forward to reading it.”

“And all this from a guy who never wanted to do it in the first place!” she looked up at him, pushing a fake smile out across her face.  Danny nodded and walked quickly out of the pub.

He walked home with the story rolled up in one hand.  He wondered how it would feel to read it.  His story, in her words?  Would she have quoted him?  Used his words? What would it sound like? A succession of shivers ran through Danny as he headed down the alleyway back towards home.  He realised that he was both desperate to read it, and frightened to. He was nearly at the door when he heard the crunch of a footstep behind, and whirled around in shock, only to be greeted by a solid fist.  He felt it slam into the side of his head, and he saw the world turning sideways, tilting, falling, until his hands sliced into the gravel, and his body followed.  He only had seconds to blink, to take it in, to try to react, before the face appeared above him.  He stared up from the ground in dazed surprise.  The man was standing over him, one foot on either side, his face coming down slowly, his dark brown eyes gleaming down on him.  He recognised him immediately as one of the men who had attacked them in the pub.  It was the shaven haired one.  The biggest one.

“What the fuck?”

“Shut it!” the man roared back at him, spittle flying in streams from his curled back lips.  He reached down then, grabbing Danny by the front of his shirt, and proceeded to haul him roughly to his feet.  He felt himself being propelled backwards, faster than his feet could catch up with.  He stumbled, and would have fallen, but the man kept him up, finding the wall and slamming him back into it.  He registered the pain, like an old friend flaring into life in his spine, and part of him wanted to laugh, laugh right into the thugs face, and say, is that the best you got?  Is that all you got, cos I’ve survived a hell of a lot worse! But the man held him tightly by the shirt, and pushed his face in close.  “You’ve got blood on your hands!” he growled, pressing his forehead onto Danny’s, crushing him back into the wall.  “Not just one man, but two!”

Danny turned his face to the side, dropped the file, and pushed back against the man.  “What are you talking about?  Who the hell are you?  Who sent you?”

“Jerry sent me, hadn’t you worked that out yet?” the man sneered, his voice dangerously low, his large thick body easily resisting Danny’s attempts to push him away. “You killed his son.  You’re a murderer.”

“And who the fuck are you?” Danny growled back, staring easily back into the mans eyes, letting him know he was not scared of him, not scared of being hurt.  He wanted to laugh again, and tell him what he had figured out years ago.  That pain could be controlled, that pain was nothing, that pain just let you know that you were still alive, still fighting back. I’ll fight you back, he wanted to tell the man, whoever the fuck you are.

The man responded by tightening his grip on Danny’s shirt, and pulling him forward slightly, only to slam him back into the wall. Danny fought hard not to cry out, not to give him the satisfaction, and again he wanted to laugh.  He was laughing inside, roaring with it within his head.  He’d been good at that back then, as a kid, he remembered then.  Not crying.  Refusing to give Howard the satisfaction.  He had become an expert at gritting his teeth against the pain, screwing his eyes up tightly and willing himself to hold on. There were times he had crammed his own fists into his mouth to stop himself from screaming when the belt came down.

“I’m a friend of Lee’s,” the man snarled at him, and if he had any idea how much Danny was laughing at him inside, he did not let it show.  “And you’re a twisted little motherfucking murderer!”

“Am I?”

“Yeah! Not just Lee, but Jack too!” The man dropped his hands then, took a step back, while the words sank into Danny’s brain.  “Jack Freeman,” the man said, speaking slowly, his voice a low, growling snarl, as his raging eyes looked Danny up and down in disgust.  He moved suddenly then, pulling back his fist before slamming it into Danny’s middle.  Danny felt the air being wrenched from him, as he doubled up on himself, and found himself sinking back down to the ground.  The man was standing over him again, shouting something, shouting as the impact of his fist rocketed through Danny’ body.  He felt his bottom hit the ground, and he wrapped his arms around himself, as he clamped down on it, on all of it, owning it and controlling it, pushing the pain away, pushing it into a box he could control. “Yeah, Jack too, Jack Freeman is dead, because of you.  You may as well have put the noose around his neck yourself, you fucking murdering bastard!”

There was a kick or two, but Danny barely registered them, or the rest of it.  It was the words, it was the information he was taking in.  Jack Freeman, dead?  He waited until the man was gone. “You’re gonna’ pay,” the man promised him, before running off.  “You’re gonna’ pay for both of them.”

Danny remained where he was, slumped against the wall.  He winced.  The pain was getting worse, as he searched for his phone and managed to drag it out from his pocket.  He held it in one hand, and then picked up the plastic file with his story in it from the ground.  He tucked it protectively between his knees, located his mother’s number and hit the call button.  It took several rings for her to answer, and when she did, she sounded breathless, as if she had ran around searching for the phone, and she sounded strange. “Danny?  Hello?” Her voice sounded thick, drowsy almost, but was too loud as well; he recoiled from the bark of her voice as it rang through his ear.  He held his head with one hand, feeling the bump that was already growing there, tracing his fingers softly over the scraped skin where he had hit the ground.

“Mum?”

“What’s up?  What’s up?” She sounded close to hysteria he thought, and he could almost imagine her clinging to the phone, welding it in panic to her own ear.

“Nothing, it’s okay, well it’s not okay, it’s not nothing, but I’m okay.”

“What?  What are you talking about?  Do you know every time my phone rings I feel like I’m gonna’ have a heart attack!”

“Mum, have you been drinking?” he asked tentatively. “You sound sort of…”

“It’s Saturday evening, I always drink on a Saturday,” she snapped back a little too defensively. “I’m a good girl the rest of the week.”

Danny thought twice then, about doing this over the phone.  “I’m coming over,” he told her, using the wall to pull himself back up to his feet.  “Is that okay?  I’ll be an hour or so.”

“Of course it is, you know it is, that would be lovely!”  Christ, he thought, now she sounded close to tears.

“Alright mum,” he said, “I’ll see you soon.”

He hung up and made his way slowly, painfully to the door to the flat.  He found his key, and went inside, taking care to shut it and lock it properly behind him.  When he reached the top door, he opened it and nearly bumped straight into Michael, who gasped in shock, and quickly reached out to slam the door shut behind him.  He looked pale and frightened.  “Where the fuck have you been?” he breathed, leaning in relief against the wall, as Kurt danced and wriggled around their feet. “I was just about to phone the cops!”

“What?  Why?”

It was then that Michael saw him properly, and moved forward, peering around to frown at Danny’s head. “What’ve you done?”

“Just got jumped outside,” Danny found himself sagging slowly back into the door behind him.  He was still breathing in and out heavily, trying to get his wind back.  He felt strangely alive though, like he had done after the fight in the pub. If anything, the physical blows seemed to spur him on more than anything, seemed to kick start his fight instinct.  “That big guy from the pub.”

“Yeah, that was him, he was here!” Michael was very animated now, dark eyes wide and staring, hands gesturing everywhere. “Fucking caveman was just here, banging on the door! He was going mental, going on about Jack Freeman being dead, and you having to pay!”

“He told you that?  He came to the door and told you that?”

“Yeah! He said he and Lee and Jack were friends from way back.  I just about managed to slam the door in his face, ran up here to grab my phone to warn you, then I heard you come in. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing, nothing, don’t worry.  What else did he say?”

“He said Jack was found dead, hanging! In the pub!”

“When?”

“I don’t know, today I think, I’m not sure. What does this mean?”

Danny shrugged and peeled himself away from the door.  He wanted to bend down to scoop up Kurt, but the pain was intensifying by the second, pulsing and throbbing all across his middle.  He headed for the lounge and Michael followed him, looking utterly lost. “I’m going to my mums, can you drive me?”

“Yeah, course, but why?”

“To tell her about all this.  To talk,” Danny shrugged and ran both hands roughly back through his hair.  He realised then that he still held the story rolled up in one hand and brought it down to stare at it.  “Oh this.  This is the article.  Caroline just gave it to me.”

Michael arrived at his side, silently running his eyes over the file as Danny unrolled it before him. “You read any yet?”

“Nope.  Tell you what, stick the kettle on, I’ll read it, then we’ll go to mums, alright?”

“Alright,” Michael nodded, looking anything but.  He turned to go to the kitchen, then stopped and pointed a finger in Danny’s direction. “I hope this has made you realise you were wrong mate! About wishing you hadn’t killed that bastard!”

Danny frowned at him.  “Eh?”

“Well all this! This is the shit you get when the bastard isn’t even here, just imagine the shit you would be getting if he still was!” He rolled his eyes as if this should be as plain to Danny as it was to him and stomped off into the kitchen.

Danny

38

 

 

            He had spent the entire weekend in the pub, drinking it all away.  It seemed the best option, the only safe thing to do.  He felt like his mind would explode if he thought properly about any of it.  So he stayed in the pub.  He ate all his meals in the pub.  He drank whiskey shots and pints of beer in the pub, and if anyone wanted to see him or speak to him, then they had to come to the pub too. 

He sat, mostly alone, in the corner, staring into nothing.  He got up every time the jukebox needed a new cd.  He went through all of them like that.  All the old ones, all the ones he had cherished in his youth.  He drifted in and out of memories and images, and thoughts, and every now and again something would smack into him like a brick, she’s pregnant! You attacked Freeman! Freeman attacked you! Then he would shake it all away again, drink more alcohol, push it away and think of something else.  Anything else.  His phone vibrated non stop with messages and phone calls.  His mother.  Michael.  Caroline.  Even Anthony wanted to know what he was playing at.  He ignored them as much as he could. 

“You’re pissing your life away in here mate,” the old guy Tony would look at him and say, shaking his head from side to side slowly, as he came round the table to clear away the empties.  “Young man like you, ought to be out there living your life.”

“Safer in here,” Danny would tell him, knowing he was right. “Safer to stay put.  Everything I touch out there turns to shit.”

“Well aren’t we feeling sorry for ourselves?”

“Not really.  Just need time to think.”

“Well I can’t argue with that.  You’re my best customer at the moment.”  He would chuckle to himself and wander back to the bar.  “Good luck with the thinking.”

Michael joined him on Saturday evening, his expression taut with worry.  He sat beside him at the little round table, pint glass in one hand, cigarette in the other.

“So she’s up the duff,” he shrugged at Danny. “So what?  You’ll be alright mate.  It’s not that fucking bad!”

“I don’t want kids,” Danny told him.  “I do not want kids.”

“Even with Lucy?” Michael tried to reason with him. “You love her mate.  She loves you.  Maybe you can have a shot you know?  At a decent, normal life?  You know, move in together, have the kid, settle down?”

“Didn’t work for you.”

“Well I wish it had mate, I wish it had now.” Michael caught his eyes and nodded at him sombrely.  “I’d give anything now to go back and do it again.  I’m not shitting you.  I love that little boy to death, you know.  I was a fucking prick not making it work with Jenny.”

“I need to contact Caroline.”

Michael spluttered over his drink, and glared at Danny. “What?  Why?  What for?  You need to call Lucy, you twat!  She must be in bits!”

Danny merely picked up his drink, and finished it off, before glancing hungrily at the bar.  “Need to get the next address,” he said. “Can’t forget about all that.  It’s not over yet.”

Michael shook his head and slumped back beside him. “Well maybe it should be Dan.  Maybe we should leave it.  Call the cops if anything nasty happens.  Seeing that old git Freeman has not exactly done you the world of good.”

“Jerry’s the one,” Danny argued back, already sliding his hand into his pocket to find some money.  “He’s the one behind it all, we know that now.  I finish the fucking interview with Haskell, give her what she wants, then go see him.  One way or another I am fucking having words with him.”

“And what if it’s not just words Danny?  What if it escalates like it did with Freeman? You’re gonna’ get yourself thrown back in prison mate. That’s what I’m worried about.  That could be the whole point of it all!  That could be what all this is leading to you know.” Michael had sat forward again, pint between his legs as he stared at Danny, “didn’t he say that to you?  That you shouldn’t be out, you should have got longer?  That’s what he wants, he wants you fucking back inside, either that or fucking out of your mind.  He’s winning on both counts mate.  I hate to tell you, but he is.”

“You were all for it yesterday,” Danny reminded him, staggering to his feet and pulling a handful of money from his pocket.  He promptly dropped most of it, and had to bend down under the table to retrieve it.  He heard Michael sigh in frustration and found it amusing.  He had decided to find it all amusing, all of it, the meeting with Freeman, the pregnant ex-girlfriend, and the thought of meeting Jerry Howard.  Amusing.  Funny.  Really fucking funny.  That was the way to go, that was the way to see it.

“Yeah, that was before I knew Lucy was pregnant, and before you started bingeing.”

“Michael, I don’t know what else to do.”

“Get home,” Michael looked at him. “Get sober.  Then get back to Lucy. For fuck’s sake.”

Danny rolled his eyes and wandered over to the bar.  Michael did not hang around much after that.  He had other things to do apparently, other places to go.  Danny didn’t care, and he didn’t mind drinking alone.  He wobbled slowly home after closing time, and wandered back again the next morning to take up his post.

After the second pint of the day he finally picked up his phone and sent a message to Caroline Haskell. She had been sending text messages constantly, wanting to know how it had gone with Freeman, and when could she see him next.  The first pint of the day merely served to refresh the alcohol he had consumed the day before. In the pub if you want me he sent to Caroline.  Moments later the text came through; I’ll be there asap. Danny laughed out loud and leaned back against the wall, drink in hand.  He saw Tony eyeing him wearily from the bar, and raised his drink to him with a smile.  He had chosen The Smiths for the jukebox today, and it was making him feel vicious and careless.  I want to fuck myself right up, he thought lazily, gulping his beer, I’ll be a fucking boozer, a fucking dirty old skanky alcoholic, fuck it, at least that way I won’t have to deal with any more shit.

The next hour passed in a blur.  His phone rang when he arrived back at the table with another pint and a packet of crisps.  “Hello mother!” he shouted into it.  He registered her clicking her tongue at him on the other end.

“Danny, everyone is worried about you.  Are you still in the pub?”

“Yes I’m still in the pub,” he laughed down the phone.  “I’m still in the pub, it’s a very nice pub, you should come and join me mother.”

“I’ll meet you, but I want to take you for coffee or something.”

“Why?  What for?  Fuck that! I’m staying in the pub!”

“Why?  What good will it do?”

“It’ll do a lot of good mother!  It’ll keep me away from the bastards after me, and it’ll keep me away from my pregnant ex-girlfriend, and it’ll…”

“What did you say?”

“Eh?”

“Pregnant?  You said pregnant! Is Lucy pregnant? I knew it!  I knew something was up yesterday!” 

Danny growled under his breath. “I’m staying in the pub,” he said and hung up on her.  She instantly called him back but he ignored it.  And then the text messages began, barraging him with questions and accusations, getting angrier by turn; what the hell are you doing, you should be with her!…Get over to her right now, stop being an idiot!…She needs you Danny, don’t be so selfish…I’ll come down there and drag you out if you don’t pick up your phone!

There was a simple solution to it all, he considered.  He picked up the phone, switched it off, and slung it angrily back onto the table.  He just wanted to be alone; why wouldn’t they all just leave him alone?  Through the drunken haze he had enveloped himself in, he was aware that he was simply revelling in self-pity and self-disgust.  That’s okay, he told himself with a firm nod, I’m allowed to, I’ve never done it before!  He rested his head back on the wall, closed his eyes briefly, and immediately saw a flash of Lee Howard in his mind.  The image jumped and blurred, mingling with the face of Jerry Howard, then rearing up again as Jack Freeman, pudgy and bloodied, eyes streaming with guilty tears.  Danny kept his eyes closed, pulled his feet up onto the chair and nestled into the wall with his pint glass between his knees. 

 

He awoke with a jolt, fear strangling his throat, his breath caught there, and for a few moments he was so disorientated that he thought he was still a kid, waking suddenly in the night, every creak and moan a suggestion that something was about to happen.  He stared wide eyed around himself, as it sunk slowly back in where he was, who he was, what was going on.  He looked up then, aware of a presence.  The pub was darker.  He wondered how long he had slept. 

“The state of you!” came a voice, and Danny struggled to sit up, rubbed his eyes and pushed back his hair.

“Anthony?”

“Yes, you fuckwit, what’s the matter, drink affected your eyesight?”

Danny groaned, feeling the pound of an impending hangover starting to gnaw at his brain.  He found his pint still sat between his legs and lifted it to his lips, as Anthony pulled up a stool at his table.  He placed his own pint before him and folded his arms on the table.  He was looking at Danny with pity in his eyes, shaking his head, mouth grim.  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” came the inevitable question.

“Knew you were gonna’ say that,” Danny sighed, head in hand.

“Well, haven’t you?  Mike says you’ve been in here since yesterday morning.”

“What is this, your turn to try and talk sense into me?  For Christ’s sake can’t anyone just leave me alone?  I’m not harming anyone sat here, am I?  I just need some fucking time Anthony.”

Anthony looked him slowly up and down. “Mike told me about Lucy.”

Danny groaned again, not wanting to hear about it, not even wanting to hear Lucy’s name. “Don’t start,” he said, holding a hand up to Anthony. “Please Anthony, don’t even start on it.  I’ll deal with it when I’m ready.”

Anthony nodded silently.  He was quiet for a few moments, looking around at the pub, drumming his fingers against the table.  He took a slow sip of beer and Danny drank the last of his and set the glass down, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand.  He looked at Anthony and thought I don’t recognise you anymore, where did the kid in you go?  Anthony looked up then, as if guessing his thoughts.  “This isn’t the answer you know, Danny.”

“It is at the moment.”

“How is this helping?”

“It’s helping,” Danny shrugged, knowing there was no way to explain this to him.  “Believe me, it is helping.  I think I’ve got it all figured out actually.”

“Really?  Come on then spill it.”

“You know about the list?”

Anthony edged forward, his dark eyes frowning. “List?  What list?”

“The three people who have it in for me, the list.” Danny counted them off on his fingers for Anthony.  “Dennis Howard, Jack Freeman, Jerry Howard.”

Anthony’s frown grew deeper, and he shifted uncomfortably on the barstool.  He shook his head slightly. “You better explain what you mean.  I don’t get it.”

“Me and Mike, we went to see Dennis, yeah?” Danny felt impatient to tell him about it.  He vaguely remembered telling Michael to keep Anthony out of it, to keep him at a distance, for his own safety.  But none of that seemed to matter now, now he was so close.  Only one more address to get from Haskell.  Only five more questions to answer to satisfy her bloodlust.  Then he would meet with Jerry Howard.  His eyes flicked to the bar, he thought about a whiskey shot and another pint, but then looked quickly back at Anthony. “Lee’s brother.  Never met him back then.  He had this mentally handicapped brother, this slow brother. We went to see him. I got the address from that reporter Haskell.  She’s been helping me out.” Again, Danny glanced at the bar, licking his lips slowly, getting worried that the fog might start to clear, that the alcohol might start to dry up within him.  He looked back to see Anthony leaning forward, his head jutting out towards his, his eyes deep with confusion and fear. “He’s just this poor idiot anyway,” he shrugged and went on. “He’s harmless. But he let on that Freeman had messed around with him, you know, back when they were all kids, hanging around Jerry’s gym.  Lee caught Freeman in the act, but instead of protecting his brother, he used it to hold it over Freeman, so he could control him. And he used it to convince his dad Dennis was gay, and no good, and he got packed off to some home for years and years.”

Danny stopped to take a breath and his eyes drifted down to the pint Anthony was holding.  “Go on,” Anthony urged. “I can’t believe you guys haven’t told me any of this.  I knew you were keeping stuff from me, I knew  it.”

“My fault,” Danny shrugged. “I told Mike to keep you out.  Didn’t want you losing your wife and kids over it.”

“So go on,” Anthony pushed him. “Dennis is not behind the shit you’ve been getting?”

“Don’t think so, no.  Well if he is, it’s only because his dad is making him.  Anyway, next I found out where Jack Freeman calls home these days. Hang on mate, I need another drink.” Danny got up abruptly and headed for the bar, digging in his pocket again for money.  He felt the floor dip and sway beneath his feet, and had to reach out blindly to hold onto the bar as it appeared before him.  Tony passed him another pint wordlessly and he slid him the money and went back to the table.

“Man, you can barely walk, you idiot,” Anthony had his head in his hands, shaking it in frustration. “When you’ve had that one, I’m taking you home, no fucking arguments.”

“Can’t,” Danny told him brightly as he lifted the new drink to his lips. “Waiting for Haskell to show up.  I get the final address today.  In exchange for a bit of useless information, she’ll let me know where Jerry Howard lives, and then I’ll go and see him when I’m sober.  I’ll have it out with him.  Find out what the fuck he wants and end all this.”  Danny lowered his pint glass and smiled at Anthony triumphantly. 

“Jesus Christ,” Anthony pulled his hands down his face and picked his own drink back up.  “What happened with Freeman then?  Where was he?”

“Right round the fucking corner, no less!” Danny exploded, his shoulders shaking with laughter, as Anthony looked on in horror.  “I know, I know, unbelievable right?  You’d think he would off crawled off somewhere and never shown his face again, wouldn’t you?  After all the shit you found out about him, remember that?  Well the fucking bastard’s got no shame obviously. He got money from Howard’s will and bought a fucking pub near the sea.”

Anthony scratched his head, and then covered his mouth briefly with one hand.  Danny felt himself whisked back to the past then, seeing him like that.  He saw him, sat exactly the same way, hand over mouth, eyes full of gut wrenching dread, just before he told Danny and Michael exactly why he wanted them to stay away from Jack Freeman and his grotty flat.  Danny remembered he had got up to be sick when the information had sunk in. It was like Anthony had sat there and confirmed all his worst nightmares were actually real, had actually happened.  It had been like a smack in the face, a punch to the gut; he had felt all the air leave his lungs and had been spluttering for oxygen when the bile began to rise. 

“I don’t believe it,” Anthony said now, his tone soft and sad, and Danny could see that he did believe it.  “Fucking dirty nasty old cunt…”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed and picked up his pint.  He drank four mouthfuls without stopping for air.

“Danny, how long has he been living there?”

“The whole time I was inside pretty much,” Danny replied. “Just fucking loving it he was, Anthony.  He even thanked me, can you believe that?  He said I did him a massive favour the day I killed Lee.  I freed him, see?  Lee had this hold over him, all his filthy secrets from the past.  He could get him to do anything he wanted.  I killed him and it all died with him.”

“Oh Danny, mate…”Anthony seemed at a loss for words, moving his hand from his mouth to his eyes and wiping it back and forth, his head down low.

“But anyway,” Danny waved a hand at the past dismissively. “We had a chat.  Got a few things straight.  He reckons he’s got nothing to do with all the shit I’m getting.  He said Jerry is about, and wanted him to help, but he said no.”

“Probably not true,” Anthony looked up.  “Wouldn’t Jerry have a hold over him too?”

“Not really. He didn’t know what he did to Dennis.  Or anyone else.  No proof see?”

“So he just gets away with it?”

“Looks like it, yeah.  Apart from me giving him a bit of a kicking.”

Anthony’s jaw fell open.  Danny grinned at him, waiting for the smile to tug at his lips, and before long it did, he couldn’t help himself.  “You didn’t!”

“I did.  Don’t worry though, Mike came in and pulled me off.  No real damage done.” Danny shrugged his shoulders carelessly while Anthony looked on in wonder.  Finally he let the smile win and nodded at him.

“Bet that felt good though.”

“Nothing like a bit of revenge eh?” Danny sighed then, picked up his drink and looked around the pub.  “Haskell should be here soon.”

“So what happens then?  She just gives you the address?”

“Well not quite!” Danny laughed, sitting back against the wall and letting his head drop back.  “I’m doing this bloody interview with her, aren’t I?  The one she’s been after for years.”

“Something else you guys have kept from me eh?” Anthony raised his eyebrows and drank from his beer. 

“Sorry,” Danny told him. “It’s best that way.  I know what you’re like.  Can’t keep your nose out, can you?”

Anthony sniggered at him. “Always been a problem of mine.” He smiled sadly then, and shifted forward. “Tell me when you go to see this Howard guy though, yeah?  I’ll make up an excuse for Chrissie.  I think I should come.”

“No need.”

“What if he has back up?  Those guys that attacked us in here?  What if it’s all a set up, leading you to him?”

Danny shrugged in reply and looked up at the door, as a slim blonde woman pushed her way meaningfully through it.  “Survived so far,” he said. “Here comes Haskell.  Hope she gets me a drink.”

Anthony looked over his shoulder. “I’ll tell her not to.”

“Fuck off.”

“Well you look like you’ve made yourself comfortable!” the reporter said, smiling confidently as she approached their table.  She dropped her bag next to the table and looked at Anthony. “Hi, how are you?”

“Not bad.  Was just about to escort this young man home though.”

Caroline frowned at him. “Why?”

“He’s been on a bender since yesterday morning,” Anthony informed her, shrugging apologetically at Danny. “He’s in no state to do an interview with you love.”

“Oh fuck off, Anthony!” Danny said, feeling a wave of aggression wash over him.  He rolled his eyes impatiently at Caroline.  “Ignore him and get me a drink will you?  He’s just leaving.”

“What would you like?”

“Anything. Anything.” When she had gone to the bar, Danny sat forward and gestured to Anthony. “I’ll be alright,” he insisted, even though he had to blink hard to get Anthony’s face to stop blurring.  “I’ll be fine…off you go, go on…She’ll look after me.  She’ll take me home.”

“I don’t trust her,” Anthony argued. “You shouldn’t either.”

Danny laughed and reached out to him, clamping his hand down on Anthony’s forearm.  “I don’t trust her, I don’t.  I don’t trust anyone Anthony….apart from you and Michael…and that is it…no one else. Not my mum, not Lucy, not anyone, except you two guys…I’d trust you with my life you know, you two?”

Anthony was smiling at him gently. “You are so drunk mate.  So drunk.  Please let me get you home.”

Danny removed his hand and sat back against the wall. “No. Got to do this.  Got to.  No other way.  Go on, off you go before she comes back.  I got to get in the right frame of mind for this shit.”

Anthony relented, shaking his head and sighing as he swung his leg over the bar stool and got to his feet.  He drained the last of his beer and put the glass down, then cast a withering look at Caroline Haskell, on her way back from the bar, and turned to leave. “Look after him, right?” he hissed at her as he passed by. “Or you’ll have me to answer to.”

Caroline sat down opposite Danny and placed a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the table.  She waited until Anthony had left the pub, and then exhaled in relief and laughed out loud. “Your friends Danny, are so incredibly protective of you!”

“Old habits die hard,” he said in return, helping himself to wine. “Come on, get your thingy out, I want to get this over with.”

“Oh alright, alright,” she looked perturbed, but began to dig around in her bag nonetheless.  “Are you sure you’re not too drunk?  We can do this another day if you like.”

“No today.  Got to be today.”

“Okay then.  How did it go with Freeman?”

“Not important,” he snapped. “Come on, come on.  You got your five questions all ready?  Thought of more?”

She gave him a patient look, as she set up her voice recorder and opened her notebook.  “Where did we get to?” she murmured, dragging the nib of her pen down the page of her notebook.  “Oh yes.  Here we are.  You were telling me about your relationship with Jack Freeman.  How Anthony found out about the accusations made against him when he was a detective. How you couldn’t tell me any more, as you didn’t remember yourself?” She looked up, sweeping her glossy hair to one side as she did.

“Aren’t you supposed to press play?”

“I was just getting us back to where we were,” she shrugged, reaching out and holding her finger over the play button. “Ready?” Her eyes met his and he felt the sudden, disquieting urge to grab the tape recorder and smack her around the head with it.  He blinked furiously, shook his head, and watched the whole pub swim around him. He nodded dumbly.  He was wrecked and this was all fucked.  He gripped the edges of the table with both hands, hanging on.  “Okay,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Let’s go.  You told me you started to stay away from Jack Freeman, after Anthony revealed his past. You then ran away from home the day before your sixteenth birthday, have I got that right?”

“Yep,” Danny nodded, certain he could feel the table rocking gently from side to side within his grip.  He held on tighter.  He focused on the wine glass, and the ruby red liquid that it held.  He wondered if he could see the wine moving too, sloshing rhythmically from one side of the glass to the other.  He could feel Caroline’s eyes burning into him, and he realised that he could not look, he could not move his eyes from the wine glass, he had to fix them there while everything was swimming and swaying.

“Can you tell me why?” she was asking.

“To get away,” he said quickly, shoving the words out as they entered his mind.  “Had to get away. Wasn’t safe. Howard knew something. He knew we were up to something, he wanted to know why we stopped going to Jack’s. He was on my case constantly, he was getting angrier, more irrational. He didn’t like his control slipping see, he didn’t like not knowing everything. It wound him up. It drove him mad.  He was getting more and more dangerous.  He was insane.”

“You feared for your life?”

“Sometimes,” he nodded, tightening his grip on the table. “I feared for my friends too.  I thought he’d get at them again.  Make them pay.  So we kept it secret.  We snuck around sorting out a place to go to.  Packed up on the sly.  He was buying the big posh house with my mum at that time…Fucking stressed beyond belief he was….walking on eggshells the whole fucking time…I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t breathe half the fucking time…Only thing kept me going was getting away.  Having a place to go to.  Being safe.”

“Can you tell me what happened on the day you ran away?  Did anyone try to stop you in any way?”

Danny could not see her now, he realised.  She had become a floating, disjointed voice somewhere on the other side of the table.  He could only see the wine glass, shining red, glittering back at him as he held onto the table.  His lips felt dry and he wondered what would happen if he let go of the table and reached for the glass. “Freeman turned up,” he heard himself telling her, the words tumbling at breathless speed. “I was packed and waiting for the word from Anthony and Mike. Heard a noise and there he was, fat and drunk and in the fucking kitchen.”

“Why was he there?  To stop you?”

Danny heard the voice and barely managed to locate it.  He let one hand drop away from the table and watched it move awkwardly towards the glass.  He made a face, grimacing as he fully expected his hand to knock the glass flying.  Instead, his fingers curled expertly around the stem and he managed to move it slowly and carefully towards his face.  “Yeah, Lee sent him, the perverted fuck bag.” He tried to look at Caroline, but she did not seem to be there anymore.  There was a huddled, blurred shape where she had once been.

“Why?  What for?”

“He wasn’t supposed to do anything to me when I was at his flat,” Danny remembered, and reached out tentatively with his lips, finding the cold rim of the glass and widening his eyes at the taste of the wine lapping onto his tongue.  Everything suddenly seemed so slowed down, he thought, so drawn out, so painful and crucifying.  His eyes jerked up suddenly, and he narrowed them at the blur at the other side of the table.  She was trying to crucify him, he knew it, but why? “But that day Lee said he could do whatever he wanted.  He sent him.  He knew what he was doing.  He wanted me back in the palm of his hand, because he knew, see? He fucking knew we were up to something! He was desperate!”

“And what happened?  You got away?”

“Yeah, I got away!” Danny laughed and found himself drifting backwards, away from the table, towards the wall which met his back.  The wine glass had travelled with him and he stared curiously down into it.  “I had my knife on me, thank fuck!  I stabbed him in the fucking foot! Was so funny!  It was gross!  All this blood was like, pumping out, all over the place, all over his shitty old shoe!”  He tipped back his head, giggling at the image he had in his mind.

“So you got away?  You and your friends?  You moved out?”

“Yep. Shitty little bedsit but it was like fucking heaven.  No one telling you want to do, none of that shit, turn your fucking music down, look at me when I’m talking to you! None of that!  Just us and a shit load of weed.  Oh yes.  Good times.  They were good times.”

“He didn’t try to find you?”

“Oh yeah, he tried, he tried!” Danny took the glass to his lips again and let the soothing liquid trickle pleasantly down his throat.  He hiccupped loudly.  “Must have driven him fucking mental, thinking about it. Oh he looked for us all right…He turned up at the record shop where I worked, going mental, shouting the odds…He even attacked my friend Jake when he came out of work one day…Cut his fucking hair and told him to give it to me as a message…That’s what he was like, see?  Do you see now?  No one ever gets it, do they?  No one ever sees!”

“I see, I get it, really I do.”

Just a voice though.  Just a voice floating around his head.  He closed his eyes and sought a peaceful place, and it occurred to him that there might only be peace found in dying.  “And how did he find out where you were?” came the voice again, and now even the voice had slowed down and deepened, like a tape caught in a machine, groaning to a halt.  He peered at the tape recorder on the table, wondering how Caroline’s voice had managed to get trapped inside it.

“My mum,” he remembered, touching his face briefly with one hand, checking he was still there.  “I started to visit her…No one wanted me to, they said it wasn’t safe, and they were right…but we started making amends with each other, because he was beating her by then, so she finally knew, she saw it, it all made sense to her, why I’d gone…who he was.”

“So what happened next?”

“He started bothering me,” Danny shrugged, feeling himself slipping slowly and helplessly down the wall.  “Following me…Trying to be nice, but I didn’t trust him…he wanted me to work for him, to replace Freeman.”

“As what?”

“A drug dealer, I don’t know, something.  He just wanted someone to control. He hated the fact I’d got away from him.”

“Final question Danny,” the voice sounded louder now, and he looked up, peering at the blur of a person sat opposite him, and he realised that this meant it was coming, it was nearly here, the final question meant the end of the interview, meant she had what she wanted right?  Meant he could go and see Jerry Howard and put an end to it all?  “Tell me what you remember of the night you allege Lee Howard abducted you, and describe how this led on to his death the following day.”

He found his lips with the glass again, banging it hard against his teeth before he managed to slosh another mouthful down his neck.  He thought fuck, my eyelids are heavy, I’m gonna’ fall asleep in a minute… “Right, okay then, here we go, if you really want to know…this is it,” he tried to move forward then, to bring his elbows down to meet the table surface, but he missed with one, and succeeded in sloshing the rest of his wine all over his lap.  He looked down at his wet leg with a confused expression.

“Danny?” the voice was prompting him. He looked up.  Oh yeah, get on with it, spit it out, come on.

“He waited ‘til Mike and Anthony were out, and he came up and barged in and he grabbed my dog…he was just a little puppy then, and started bashing him against the fucking door, until I agreed to go with him…” Danny ploughed his fingers back through his hair, finding his head and hanging onto it. He found himself staring down into the wood of the table, his eyes narrowing and focusing on the scratches and nicks and stains on the surface.  He remembered the horror then, that man filling the space as always, sucking up all the oxygen, making everything else become a grey blur, so that only the two of them existed.  Waiting.  Waiting for him to fall on him.  Waiting for the explosion.  The pain was always a relief from the fear, he remembered.  The fear was always worse, thinking it might go on forever.  “He knocked me out…woke up in his car…” his voice was faltering now, slowing down and growing softer, and he knew, somewhere in his mind he knew, that it was the alcohol, it was his own fault that the sorrow was creeping mercilessly through him, dragging him down.  “He’d tied my hands up with wire…couldn’t get it off…then he got me out the car and dragged me to the cliff…held me right over it…I thought I was fucking going down there, I thought he was really gonna’ do it…he’d flipped….see he’s lost the plot?  He’s laughing at me now…he’s roaring in my ear…deafening me. Do you want to go down there?  No one will ever find you.. So I’m saying sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry for everything…I’ll be a good boy now, I really will, I’ll be good…I’ll do whatever you want!” Danny was only vaguely aware of losing the wine glass, as he clamped both hands around his aching head now.  The glass fell from the table’s edge and smashed on the floor around his feet.  He felt removed from the pub, he was drifting far away from all of it.  He was convinced he could feel the cold sand pressing against his cheek.  The weight of a monster holding him down.  The sound of the waves smashing against the cliff below.  “So yeah, I’ll do it…I’ll work for you, I’ll do anything, I’ll be a good boy this time, right…That’s what you want?…Okay then. But it’s not enough, it’s not enough for him…he has to beat me too…he has to fucking, fuck me up! Doesn’t he? Doesn’t he?”

There was a hand on his arm, soothing him or grabbing him?  He didn’t know, but he tried to shake it off. The drink was slaying him, he thought miserably, it was all pulling him down, what was going to happen now?  “He took you home after that?” the voice is asking urgently, pulling at his arm, trying to keep him there. “Back to the bedsit and just let you go?”

“Yes, yes, yeah,” he nodded, keeping his head in his hands, steadying his brain, wondering how long it would be before darkness fell.  “It was all fine…all on board yeah?  All cool…cool. But I looked at him and I snapped…I felt it! I fucking felt it go…Inside me…You ever felt that?  You ever felt something like that?  Inside you?  I felt it go…I knew I had to kill him and I knew that I would. Only other thing was…kill myself.”

He felt his head going down then, finding the table with a slight bump that made him smile, and the hand on his arm was getting tighter and tighter. “I need to get you home…We’ll have to finish this when you’re sober….”

“Finish it now!” Danny yelled in reply, resting his head onto of his folded arms.  “I’m fine!”

“Are you sure?  You can’t even…”

“I’m sure! Ask me!  Ask me fucking anything!”

“Okay.  What happened next?”

“Phoned Jaime…my drug dealer…he got me some coke…”

“Why?  Why did you want it?”

“To feel big,” he laughed, his face now buried in his arms.  “To feel big and brave…not little and useless and fucked up…Went home, went to bed…Woke up before them…took all the coke and got all the knives and wrote them all letters and then I went.”

“How many knives did you take?”

“Three.”

“Do you remember much about what happened next?”

Danny blew his breath out slowly, letting it fill his cheeks before releasing it through his teeth.  His eyelids were now so heavy that he had given in to them.  He found himself encased in a comfortable darkness.  He felt like the darkness was a pair of arms around him, shielding him and soothing him.  His forehead lay against his arms, his hands flat upon the table.  He felt his lungs filling and emptying air, everything slowing down, everything tucking up for the night.  Nearly there, he thought, battling to stay awake, nearly over, then I never have to fucking talk about it or think about it again…

“Danny?  Danny?”

“It’s a bit blurry…” he murmured from his dark cave.  “I see bits…sometimes I dream about it…bit come back to me, but never in the right order…I don’t remember getting over there.  I think I caught the bus and then walked….but the thing I really remember is standing on the doorstep, waiting to go in…making myself remember everything, letting it all go through my head…every vile and cruel thing he had done…Everything Freeman had done…the nights at his flat…the things I hadn’t admitted to myself…I had to summon it all up, to get so mad, to get so fucking angry, to not be scared.  And I wasn’t scared.  Not anymore.”

Silence from the other end of the table.  In fact the entire pub seemed silent and empty, but he had no strength to lift his head to find out if this was true.  He knew he had to keep his head down and his eyes closed.  He knew vomiting was getting closer and closer.  “She let me in…mum. Tried to get me to go…I was screaming, going crazy, then he comes down the stairs in his dressing gown, I remember that, I remember his face…He was livid.  He thought he’d won again.  He thought he had me where he wanted me again, but he was wrong…I just see my mum screaming and shouting, and then he hit her and it was just us….I don’t know what happened then.  I see the images sometimes…blood, and the floor, I see the floor..I was on the floor…He was gonna’ kill me for that.” Danny smiled to himself in the darkness.  He remembered the blows reigning down on him, feet kicking at his ribcage, feet following him as he dragged himself along…and how it got easier when he met the slippery kitchen floor.  “He didn’t know I had another knife….I got it out when he was close…I don’t remember stabbing him…I just see his face again…His mouth hanging open, I can see that now!  I don’t remember how it went from there…My mum tried to stop me I think…People turned up, cops and ambulance people, all running about, freaking about and I remember I just felt chilled, you know?  I knew it was over. I didn’t think about anything else, like prison, or the future, or anything. I just knew he could never hurt me or scare me again and I had won.  Not him.  But I was wrong anyway…’Cause still not fucking over is it?”  The words were getting harder and harder to form in his mouth and spit out.  Unconsciousness was steadily claiming him, gripping his mind and pulling it down.  Now give me the address, you got what you wanted, now give it to me so I can see his dad and have it sorted, so I can end it properly…okay?  Did I say that out loud or just think it? He wasn’t sure, but it was far too late, and all the lights went out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

39

Kay

 

 

            She had sat on things for a week.  She had not interfered.  She had not called or sent any text messages since Danny had hung up on her in the pub.  She knew what was going on though.  She heard via Lucy, who heard via Michael, that Danny spent the weekend getting drunk in the pub, and finishing the so called interview with that Haskell woman.  Kay seethed inwardly when she thought about that woman.  She remembered her from years ago.  Hanging around, shoving her business card into peoples hands, tapping politely on the door, making her enquiries.  Why did the woman still care so much?  It was an old story now, wasn’t it?  Done and dusted. 

No, it didn’t sit easily with Kay, knowing that Danny had spoken to her.  It raced endlessly through her mind.  What had he told her?  How far back had he gone?  What had he said about her?  But she knew she had no right to interfere, no right to an opinion on it at all.  So she said nothing, kept an eye on her phone, and waited.  She brought up Lucy’s number on a regular basis, her thumb hovering over the call button.  Pregnant, she would think, staring down at the phone, I knew it, I knew there was something up with her.  She waited patiently, hoping that Lucy would reach out to her again, let her know what was going on, but the only messages she received were concerned with Danny being in the pub, Danny doing his interview.

Okay, Kay thought, I’ll pretend I don’t know.  I’ll bide my time.  I’ll wait until I’m needed.  She imagined Danny drinking away his sorrows in the pub with that unscrupulous Haskell woman, and it made her shake her head in despair.  Part of her, of course, could understand exactly why he was doing it.  He was scared.  He was in over his head, out of his depth, struggling with so many things.  But part of her wanted to storm around and smack him over the head.  Make him see how selfish and stubborn he was being.  Knowing what his response would be stopped her every time she felt close.  She could just hear his voice sneering at her; you’re a fine one to talk aren’t you?

It didn’t take her long to find out where Jack Freeman’s pub was.  Danny had mentioned it being near the sea, not far from Belfield Park.  There were only a few pubs that fitted the bill, and the White Horse was the only one dingy enough to be mostly frequented by student types.  The day before she planned to pay him a visit, just for old times sake, Kay looked up a few things on the Internet.  She had only recently discovered the joys of the world wide web. It had helped reunite her with a few old friends for one thing, which was good.  It was also a useful tool, if you needed it to be.  

She thought long and hard about the best time to surprise Jack.  She could do what Danny and Michael had done, and wait until closing time.  It would give them privacy and space.  Or she could waltz in off the street during one of the busy times of day, when the place was heaving with young people.  The thought of the look on his face was too hard to resist.  She drove over there on a Friday afternoon, a week after Danny and Michael had seen him.

She sat outside in the car for a while, sizing the place up, watching the people going in and out.  They were definitely mostly student types, she decided.  They all looked mostly in their late teens, to early twenties.  They all seemed to be carrying rucksacks or bags of some sort.  She felt a little sharp pain needling at her insides as she watched them, so casually breezing in and out of the pub, tugging their duffel coats and parkas tighter around their bodies.  Danny could have gone to college, or University, she thought, swallowing.  He could have gone with his writing, couldn’t he?  He could have got good grades at GCSE, all his teachers said it was possible.  The thought made her remember parents evenings with both a sigh and a shudder.  They had all looked at her the same way, those teachers at Somerley.  Sadness mixed with reproach.  He could do so much better, they all said slowly, carefully, as if picking the right words, as if unsure how to phrase it, if only he would turn up more, if only he would try harder, it’s so frustrating to see such talent wasted. Wasted.  Some of those teachers could barely even look her in the eye, she remembered.  Obviously they blamed her. They may not have known exactly what was wrong with Danny, but they had known it was bad, and they had looked to her to blame.  They had eyed her with distain and faint curiosity.

She remembered feeling so ashamed, so let down, and just wanting to hide, to scurry out of that place.  There was one time Lee had come along.  At the time she had felt so grateful to him, so much stronger with him there like always, guiding her from teacher to teacher, so forceful, so authoritative.  At the time, she had been able to hold her head up just a little bit, because she was not alone.  But now she looked back on it in horror and disgust, and the memory of Lee holding Danny by the arm, as they went from classroom to classroom, filled her with self loathing, making her tremor from head to foot.  He had walked with his head hanging, his eyes burning into the floors of the corridors.  He had barely spoken, and as usual she had read that as insolence, as him not caring.  Lee had been so calm, hadn’t he?  Opening doors for them, pushing Danny gently ahead to face his teachers, to absorb the next sombre, regretful expression, the next outpouring of; well I’m afraid he’s just never here Mrs Howard, and when he is here he won’t work.

She hadn’t understood why, had she?  She had thought he was doing it all on purpose, just to get back at her for being with Lee.  She would rant at him in the car on the way home; why are you always doing this to me? Where the hell are you when you’re not at school? What do you think will happen to you if they kick you out?

She glared up at the White Horse pub now, at the battered shutters that banged in the wind from the upper windows, and the paint that peeled from the white washed brick walls.  The front doors batted open and three young men bundled out into the cold, lighting cigarettes as they walked, and laughing raucously, carelessly, with book bags slung across their shoulders.  Kay felt her body brace in anger. 

Enough was enough.  And some people had not paid enough. She got out of the car, buttoned her smart red coat up against the cold, locked the car, and started towards the pub.  She pushed confidently through the doors, wondering if he would recognise her.  She did not notice the young eyes that registered her, that looked her up and down in approval, and followed her to the bar, where she pulled out her purse and lifted her neatly plucked eyebrows at the young girl with pink hair.  “What can I get you?” the girl asked, pushing her hair back behind her ears, looking tired, like she had not had much sleep last night and was paying the price now.

“A vodka and coke please,” Kay replied curtly, “and a word with your boss, if he is in?”

The girl frowned. “You mean Jack?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.  Hang on.  I’ll get him.  Or do you want your drink first?”

“Perhaps he can pour me the drink.”

The girl looked at her quizzically, and then turned around, starting to grin slightly to herself. “Okay then,” she said, and Kay waited.

He shuffled around the corner just moments later, and stopped in his tracks when he saw her.  She looked him up and down coldly, narrowing her eyes and feeling her lips tug into a tight brittle smile.  “Ooh now there’s a sight for sore eyes,” she remarked, wincing at his battered, swollen face.  “Hello Jack, how are you?”  Kay pulled a bar stool up and hopped onto it as he continued to stare at her, his eyes squinting through the swelling, his body sort of slumped and resigned.  She noted the sweaty patches under each arm of his shirt and drummed her fingernails impatiently against the bar.  “I’ll have a vodka and coke while I’m here.”

He grunted, moved forward, and grabbed the vodka from the shelf behind the bar.  “You haven’t changed much,” she heard him utter thickly.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she returned.  “You always were quick with the compliments Jack.  I remember that.  I remember I liked that about you.  But then I was very shallow back then, wasn’t I?  Very easily impressed.”

He placed a vodka and coke on the bar and shook his head when she opened her purse.  “So what do you want?” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his loose brown trousers.  “Round two?”

Kay continued to smile coldly at him.  “Came to see how you are Jack.  For old time’s sake.  I must say, you’re not looking too well, yourself.  I’d be lying if I said time had been kind to you.”

Jack snorted at her. “Your boy was here a week ago.  I had it coming.”

“Yes, yes I know about that,” Kay picked up her drink, held it up and regarded him with a thin icy glare. He seemed to shrink and squirm under it, swallowing repeatedly, his eyes darting around to avoid meeting hers.  “And you’re right, you did have it coming.”

He nodded once and shuffled forward a little more. “You want to talk somewhere?” he asked her.  Kay bristled in disgust.  She could smell the dirt and the body odour and the whiskey coming from him in thick waves. For a moment she just looked him up and down, sipped her drink, and let the realisation flood her completely.  Had she not been so controlled, so stiff with anger, then she imagined the feeling would have floored her.  In her minds eye she could not help but picture him, watching over her son while he slept on his sofa and it made her want to vomit.  She jerked her head towards an empty table in the far corner.

“Over there will do.  I won’t keep you long.”

Jack Freeman took a moment to make himself a whiskey and coke, before padding slowly out from behind the bar and following her to the table.  She sat down, crossing one leg over the other, and wrinkling her nose as he passed her and took the other seat.  “You ought to be in jail,” she said briskly, clasping her hands together in her lap.  “You know that don’t you?  For what you did to my son back then.  For giving him illegal drugs.  For everything.” She leaned forward then, her top lip curling, and hissed it at him in case he had missed it; “Oh yes, I do know everything Jack.  Not just what you did to Danny, but what you did to Lee’s brother too.” She watched his face absorbing it all and she thought that he looked like a man who wanted to throw up his own life, as if it was poisoning him from the inside.  “I don’t know how you live with yourself for one thing,” she told him, sitting back. “I don’t know how people like you sleep at night either.  I mean, tell me, I’m curious, how do you sleep?  How do you?  Do you sleep well Jack?”

“Not well,” he replied, his voice low, his eyes looking away.  He nursed his whiskey in one hand.  “I told him I was sorry and I meant it.”

“Sorry for what?” Kay snapped, sipping her vodka quickly then slamming it back down onto the table. She kept her eyes on him, as much as is revolted her, making her stomach tighten and churn, she didn’t care and she imagined that she deserved that feeling, a feeling her son must have lived with daily back then.  “Which part did you apologise for Jack?  Tell me, I am curious to know.  What did you say sorry for?  Giving him drugs?  Standing back while you knew Lee was physically abusing him?  Getting your filthy hands on him when he was too drugged up to know better?”

Jack looked around in panic as Kay’s voice had risen in anger.  The pub was busy.  Young men and women were milling about, waiting at the bar to be served.  They were chatting and shouting and the jukebox was playing Led Zeppelin loudly, but she could see the fear in his eyes.  If she raised her voice any more, they would start to look and listen in.  They would start to pay attention. She smiled at him, waiting for his answer, while he hung his head and hunched his shoulders.  “For all of it,” he muttered in reply, raising the whiskey to his lips.  “I’m sorry for all of it.”

“I don’t expect he believed you any more than I do.  You did pretty well out of it all in the end, didn’t you?” Kay waved a hand at the pub around them.  “You got this.  But what made you come back here?  Couldn’t stay away?”

Jack shrugged at her and grunted. “Don’t know.”

“I don’t have the time or the energy to sit here soaking up the misery of your vile life Jack, but I do want to know a few things.  Are you helping Jerry harass my son?”

“No,” Jack shook his head at her quickly and firmly. “Not me.  I try to keep away from that crazy fucker.” He glanced up at the ceiling and released a sigh. “Christ, you think Lee was bad, he’d only just got started compared to his dad.”

“So it is him behind it all?” Kay questioned. “You know that for sure?”

“He came to me,” Jack nodded. “A few times.  Before Danny even got out.  He knew it was coming and he was livid.  He said if the kid came back this way, he would be paying him back.  For Lee.”

Kay could only shake her head in disgust. “Who else? Who else is involved? He can’t be doing it alone.  We’ve had letters, phone calls, graffiti, broken windows!”

“I don’t know, I really don’t,” Jack shrugged at her. “He didn’t say.  Could be people from Essex, friends of his, friends of Lee, I don’t know names.”

“The guys that attacked Danny and his friends in the pub?”

“Maybe.  I don’t know.”

“Do you know what he wants?  Jerry?  What will it take to end all this?”

Jack Freeman took a gulp of whiskey, set his glass down and pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows.  He looked at Kay darkly, and for the first time she felt her anger weaken, felt the coldness of fear wash over her.  “He wants three things that I know of.”

“What are they?” Her voice came out strangled by dread.  She picked up her glass and drank.

Jack turned one hand palm up and counted off on his fat fingers with his other hand.  “He wants Lee’s money back.  All of it.  It keeps him awake at night apparently.  His son’s cash in your sons hands.  He wants Danny to move away from here.  He doesn’t think he deserves to be near his friends and family, seeing as how his son can’t see any of his these days.  And he wants him to apologise.”

Kay found her hand moving slowly and hesitantly towards her face.  She could not take her eyes off of Jack Freeman. The tips of her fingers were cold as they brushed against her lower lip, before she found the lip and tugged at it.  “What?” her voice was a whisper.  Jack shrugged again, finding his drink.  His face gave away nothing.

“He wants him to say sorry.  He wants him to grovel.  Nothing less.”

Kay shook her head from side to side, staring at him in horror, as if she was staring at something inhuman.  “He won’t get any of those things.”

“Whatever,” Jack sniffed at her. “That’s what it’ll take.”

“He doesn’t deserve any of those things!”

“I’m only passing on what I know.  That’s what you wanted.”

Kay found the arms of her chair and gripped them tightly.  “The man must be insane, he must be delusional! He must know what Lee was like!  He must realise what he did!”

Jack looked anxiously around him as her voice rose in frustration. Sure enough, some of the students closest to them were looking over and nudging each other.  Jack leaned towards her urgently. “Keep your voice down or we’ll have to do this another time.”

“We’re doing this now whether you like it or not!” Kay retorted angrily, hissing through her teeth, whilst shooting a knowing glance at the youngsters at the bar. “I’ll be finished with you in a just a minute, and then I hope to God I never have to set eyes on your repulsive face again!”

Jack moved back again, showing his hands in defeat. “Okay, okay, what more do you want?  Why are you here?”

“I want to know how you could do it Jack,” she met his eyes and questioned, taking him in, knowing she would never be able to truly fathom it.  “When I knew you back then, I really liked you.  You were Lee’s friend, but you were always good to me, you know, friendly and kind.  I was so thankful to you when you seemed to take Danny under your wing.” She paused, watching him.  His eyes were burning into the table, his whole body rigid with the guilt. “Do you know how sick that makes me feel now?  Have you any idea how it tortures me at night?  All those times Jack.  All those times I’d look up at Lee and say have you seen Danny, where is he? Oh he’s staying at Jacks, he’d say, they’ve got a bit of a bond, he’d say.  I fucking believed him, more fool me.” She looked him up and down now, her skin crawling.  She felt the urge to wrap her arms tightly around her body, to shield herself from him. “A bit of a bond, he’d say to me.  He’d chuckle.  He’d sit there on that sofa beside me, with his arm around me, and he’d chuckle.  The twisted bastard would laugh.  And he knew didn’t he Jack?  He knew all about you and he knew what you liked.”

Jack seemed to have trouble swallowing.  He picked up his drink and drained it in one long gulp.  “He put me in an impossible situation.  He knew what he was doing, yes.  It was after that boy Anthony stood up to him.  He warned him he knew what was going on.  So Lee wanted back up.  And he wanted Anthony out of the picture.  And he wanted…” Jack blew his breath raggedly through his lips, rubbing vigorously at one eye.  His body seemed slumped, without shape or form.  “He wanted to keep control over Danny…that’s what it was.  If he didn’t have me as back up, then someone else might have stepped in, you know?”

“You talked about this with him?  You sat and talked it all through?  What your role would be and why?”

“Not really…not as such.  But it was clear.  From day one. I knew how he operated anyway.  I knew what was going on.”

“You are as evil and disgusting as he was, you know that don’t you?” Kay clenched her fists in her lap.  She stared in a daze at the kids at the bar, jostling for space, calling out their orders to the girl behind it. She looked sharply back at Jack Freeman and felt a jolt of horror rip through her, and she knew she had to get out of there fast.  Her mouth had gone dry.  Her skin felt alive.  “And he got what he deserved in the end, no matter what his father thinks.  Unlike you.  With the gall to buy a pub around here! With all these young people coming in and out every day, not knowing what you really are! You better not have messed around with anyone else since then?”

“No,” Jack said quickly, covering his face with both hands now.  His shoulders hung low, his breath came rasping through his fingers. “No I haven’t, I haven’t…I swear.”

“Well I’ve made sure you’ll never get the chance again,” Kay told him, picking up her glass and drinking the last mouthful, while he dropped his glass and stared at her in confusion.

“What?”

“Oh I’m a dab hand with the technology these days, you know,” she said, waving a hand breezily, as she pushed back her chair and stood up. “You have to be don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”  His voice was a squeak, a tremble.

“I’ve ruined you, Jack Freeman,” she sneered, hands on table, leaning close to his tortured face.  “That’s what I’ve done.  And it’s only a matter of time, hours, minutes even, before everyone in this pub knows about you.”

“What?  I don’t know what you….what have you done?”

“Just a little thing called the Student Union, you know of it?” He nodded back in misery. “I found the number online.  Phoned someone personally. Seeing as how this seems to be the favourite haunt for the local students. I thought they ought to know what kind of sadistic scum they buy their drinks from. I thought they ought to know that every time they pass out drunk here, they are in danger!”  She straightened up now, folding her arms and smiling smugly down at him.  “Rumours and accusations certainly spread fast on line, with e-mails and the like. Jack Freeman, landlord and drug dealing paedophile.  Hope it goes well for you Jack.  I hope you rot in hell.”  She caught one last glimpse of his ruined face sagging into despair, and she turned neatly on her heel and marched out of the pub. 

 

Kay

36

 

 

            Her calls and messages to Danny had gone largely ignored since the day he lost his temper at her flat.  Kay wondered how much of this was to do with him trying to protect her from the harassment and how much was to do with him wanting to keep a distance from her anyway?  It didn’t matter, she told herself, as she left her flat and buttoned her coat up against the cold outside.  She was on her way to see Lucy, uninvited.  Sending texts seemed to be getting her nowhere, so she had decided to take action that morning.  First, she would drop in on Lucy.  They seemed to be something close to confidantes these days, which was odd really, but not unwelcome, and each now appeared to be the other’s only link to Danny.  Lucy had phoned her after the disaster on the beach with Danny.  She had been so distraught, so upset.  They had ended up meeting for coffee the next day.

“You can see why he would react like that,” she had told Lucy over coffee. “You must have known he would.  He’s always had a temper, Lucy, you’ve probably just never seen it before.  Again, this is why I think what you’re doing is right.  Your relationship was founded on very odd circumstances.  I mean, do you really feel you know each other that well?”

“No,” Lucy had replied quickly and adamantly. “I don’t.  Sometimes I think he’s basically a stranger.  Even back then, he was so quiet, so self-contained.  It’s all so confusing…” She had been leaking tears, with a damp tissue scrunched up in one hand.  “That’s what I was trying to explain to him, but he took it all the wrong way.  I was trying to say we were just kids the last time we were together. We had this connection, this strong connection, and that’s the only way I can explain it, but we didn’t know everything about each other. Everything was so complicated.”

“And then eight years apart…” Kay had sighed.

“I know,” Lucy had rested her head in one hand, and stared at the table in the café. “So we still seem like strangers.  Strangers, with some kind of connection, that tells me we should be together…but I just worry, I worry that he needs more time.  Like you say, I don’t know all that much about him really.”

“He’s a lot like me,” Kay had told her with a wry smile. “He would go mad if he heard me say that, of course. But that was why we always clashed so much, because we were the same.  Drama queens.  Tempestous, melodramatic, all those things.  Fiery temper.  You should have seen some of the rows we had, even before we all moved here. Even when he was nine, ten years old!  He was one of those kids that questions everything you say, you know?  Used to drive me mad.  It was like, Danny go to bed, why? Why do I have to?  Why this time? Why doesn’t John? He was like that with everything.  Christ, it was exhausting.  Every little thing I ever said or did, he would have to argue about it, challenge it.  I think now it was a reaction to not having his real dad around.  It was like he didn’t trust me to do the job or something.  Like he was suspicious of me, always checking me out and double guessing me.”

“I don’t think he’s done anything about contacting his dad,” Lucy had murmured in reply.  “Unless I’m wrong. He probably wouldn’t tell me now, if he had.”

“No, I think you’re right. I think he put it to the back of his mind for now.  Too much going on.”

She’d felt like a bitch, she thought now as she drove over to Lucys’ flat. She had felt uncomfortable agreeing with what Lucy had done.  She knew that if Danny had heard them talking like that in the café, he would have exploded at both of them.  He probably would have accused her of being behind it all, of wanting to wreck his life all over again.  Kay felt the usual hardening in her heart as she drove, thinkingt about her son, and the mess that his once promising life had become.  She felt the guilt, as she always did, like a heavy sodden cloak that clung upon her shoulders, pressing her down, so that it was a perpetual effort to hold her head up high.  After all, she would remind herself dryly, she was his mother.  She had raised him, pretty much by herself.  She had not helped him stay in contact with his father, and that was another thing she felt guilty about.  But guilt was a strange thing, she realised.  Back then, as a young mother, guilt had panicked her.  Guilt at being single, guilt at her children having different fathers, guilt at how much she yearned to be young and free again.  That guilt had sent her looking for comfort, for attention and reassurance, for men.  It had propelled her towards them because it was easy.  She was beautiful, and they wanted her, and they made her feel better about the mess she had made of her life.  Sometimes she had sought out the ones who seemed like they would be good fathers, but most of the time, she had not even worried about it.

Guilt.  A very strange thing.  She seemed to have spent most of her life trying to escape it, and escaping guilt made you defensive, and made your existence a constant state of denial.  That was how Kay had come to view her years with Lee.  A a state of denial caused by her desire to escape the guilt that weighed her down.  She thought of the time they had lived in that small house together, and she knew that she had seen and heard things, and had ignored them, denied them, flapped them away.  She knew she had been incredibly selfish, and too terrified to be alone to open her eyes and question what was happening around her.  She knew there were times when Lee would go into Danny’s bedroom and close the door behind him, and she knew she should have gone to the door and listened, just in case.  Just in case.

She drove to Lucy’s house, her expression taut, mouth pursed, eyes frowning.  She felt hard inside.  She was able to take all of their accusations these days, they had followed her around for years, and she had grown accustomed to them. They may all hate me, they may all blame me, but I am still his mother, she told herself as she pulled up neatly outside Lucy’s flat.  She got out of the car, locked it and hurried briskly towards the door. 

Lucy came to the door on the second knock.  She viewed Kay with surprise and then suspicion.  She was tying her dressing gown around her middle and looked unwell.  “Kay?  Is something wrong?”

“Well that’s what I’ve come to find out,” Kay smiled and pushed gently past her into the hallway.  “No one tells me anything,” she explained, as Lucy closed the door hesitantly after her.  “And I know, why should they?  Why should they indeed?  But I haven’t seen or heard much from my son since he threw his tantrum at my place, have you?”

Lucy folded her arms across her chest and sighed as she turned into her kitchen. “No,” she replied.  “But he is coming over today.”

Kay followed her, eyebrows arched. “Really?  Is he?  How did you manage that?”

Lucy blew her breath out and sat down at the table, head in hand. “Told him it was important,” she said.  Kay frowned.  She looked quickly around at the small kitchen, which was usually so lovely and clean, everything in its place.  It looked like Lucy had let things slip a bit lately.  The sink was full of dirty dishes, and the table was cluttered with school books and her laptop.  A pile of washing sat untouched in the basket next to the washing machine. 

“What’s going on?  Has there been more trouble?”

“Not for me,” Lucy shrugged. “Not since he stopped seeing me.  How about you?”

“The same,” Kay announced, slipping into the chair beside Lucy’s. “All fine until he came to the flat, then I got a nice letter the next day.  I know something is going on.  He’s trying to find out who’s behind it all, isn’t he?”

“You can’t blame him,” Lucy shrugged again.  “Do you want tea?”

“Only if you’re making one.”

“Think I might be out of milk actually,” Lucy muttered, getting up to check.  Kay watched her shrewdly as she went to the fridge and pulled open the door.  She watched her sigh again, blowing out her breath in a slow, weary puff.  “Yeah, I am.”

“Do you want me to run and get you some?” Kay offered. “You don’t look very well Lucy.  Have you been ill?”

Lucy let the fridge door drift shut slowly, before shuffling back to her chair.  She was trying not to look at Kay, which made her even more suspicious.  “Yes, had a few bugs,” Lucy told her, twirling a length of brown hair around one finger. “One after the other.”  She rolled her eyes at Kay.  “School.”

Kay nodded slowly.  “You don’t mind me popping in?  I was passing anyway.  I wondered if you’d sorted things out with him yet.”

“He’s coming around in a bit,” Lucy told her with another sigh, a grimace appearing and disappearing on her face.  “Any minute now.”

“Well in that case, if you don’t mind I’ll hang about to see him.  Just want to see how he is.  I’m sure it will piss him off, but I’ll take my chances.” Kay smiled boldly at Lucy’s sceptical expression.  “Maybe you should text him and tell him to bring milk?”

“Okay.” Lucy slid her hand across the table, reaching for her phone.  Kay watched her curiously, noting how dazed and out of it she seemed.  She glanced at the door, wondering how long they would get alone before Danny showed up.  She looked back at Lucy, as she typed into her phone.

“Anything you want to tell me?” she couldn’t help but ask. “Before he gets here I mean?  You don’t seem yourself Lucy.”

“I’m fine,” Lucy waved a hand, then went back to her phone.  “Just a bit washed out that’s all.  Tired.  Stressed, probably.”

“What’s so important?  Why do you need to see him so urgently?  I thought you two were on a break, or whatever you call it.”

Lucy put her phone down and ran a hand back through her hair.  Kay narrowed her eyes, wondering why she was not dressed, why she was not all primped and preened for Danny.  Lucy normally looked so well put together, she thought.  Tomboyish, in her own way, but neat and coordinated, stylish.  “I think I better talk to him first,” Lucy replied slowly, considerately.  Kay nodded instantly.

“Okay, fine.”

Just then they were interrupted by the sound of Lucy’s phone vibrating and beeping on the table.  She grabbed it and read out the message.  “He’s getting milk.  He’s on his way.”

“Nervous?” Kay asked her, folding her arms.  Lucy stared at the table, her head now in her hand.  Kay felt the urge to reach out to her, but as usual she reacted by folding her hands deep into her lap, twisting her fingers together there, and reminding herself that any of them would be repelled by her touch.  Lucy nodded sadly in reply, and Kay felt the pity tugging her down.  She got up then, just to have something to do.  She grabbed the kettle and started to fill it with water.  “Best get this on then.”

 

They waited in silence, while the kettle boiled.  Kay stood with her side against the kitchen cupboards, thinking of things to say, questions to ask, conversations to initiate.  Instead she found herself watching the door, awaiting the moment her son walked in, and wondering what she would find upon his face.

 

When he finally knocked on the door, Kay saw the wash of fear that filled Lucy’s eyes, before she struggled to compose herself.  She let him in, lowering her eyes and tugging her dressing gown closer, and mumbling him that his mum was here too.  Danny stepped into the doorway and looked accusingly at his mother.  Kay blinked at him.  She ran her eyes up and down, taking in his dishevelled appearance. He looked like he had slept in his clothes, his expression was tense and his eyes explosive, and was that blood on his jacket?

“What are you doing here?” he shot at her, remaining in the doorway, staring at her with piercing eyes.  Kay snorted at him, and thought you’ve looked at me like that since you were born, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest, and I used to wipe your shitty little arse my son.

“Good morning to you too,” she replied, getting up from her chair and swiping the carton of milk from his hands.  “I’ll put the tea on shall I?”

“I need to talk to Lucy.”

“You can.  I won’t be long,” Kay said over her shoulder.  Lucy had returned to her spot at the table and had gone back to looking rather dazed and nervous.  “I’ll just have a cup of tea with you.  You look like hell, by the way.”

“Cheers.” Danny finally relaxed his shoulders and slouched into the kitchen.  He pulled out a chair and slumped into it.  Kay lined up the cups and poured the boiling water into each one, while the strangled silence dragged out behind her.  “You might as well know,” she heard Danny announce then, and turned to look at him.  He was staring right back at her, challenging her, looking like he hated her. “I went to see Jack Freeman last night.”  Kay removed the teabags one by one, waiting for him to continue, while Lucy sat silently at the table, holding her breath.  “We had quite a chat,” Danny nodded at her.  “Then I beat the shit out of him.”

Kay passed him his tea and fixed him with a knowing stare. “Well that wasn’t very clever of you, was it?”

“Oh Danny…” breathed Lucy, head in hands.  He gave her the briefest of glances before turning his blazing eyes back on Kay.

“That was quite enjoyable actually,” he corrected her. “Now that I’m all grown up, you know?  I can kind of see how Lee got off on it all, to be honest.  Smashing someone’s face in when you really despise them.  It is satisfying, I have to say.  It does make you feel good.”

“What do you want me to say?”  Kay placed the other cups on the table and sat back down.  “What reaction do you want from me Danny?  Did you find out anything useful?  Is he behind the harassment?”

Danny snorted in disgust, his eyes scowling back at her. “He says not.  But he would say that wouldn’t he?  He admits he’s been in contact with Jerry over the years, and Jerry’s wanted him to mess with my head. He’s been in the same pub down by the sea for years.  Did you know that mother?”

“What do you mean by the sea?”

“Like ten minutes away!” Danny practically shouted at her. “All this time!  We all assumed he’d crawled back to Essex or wherever the fuck he came from, but no, he got half of the club, from Lee’s will, he says.  You must have known that?”

Kay released a sigh, and shook back her hair.  “Okay,” she said, bracing herself.  “Obviously I did know that.  There was nothing I could do about it.  But I didn’t know he moved back this way or bought a pub down here.”

Danny was shaking his head slowly from side to side, his top lip curling up, his eyes narrowing to nothing.  Kay felt the anger rolling from him, and she hardened herself to it, just as she did with the guilt that swamped her day by day. There is nothing more I can do, she thought, staring back at him unflinchingly, I can’t say sorry any more times, I can’t do anything more to make it up to you.. “You should have told me,” Danny said, looking away from her now.  He still did not really take in Lucy though, Kay noted.  It was like she was invisible to him.  Here he was, sat in her kitchen and drinking her tea, yet refusing to even properly acknowledge her.  Kay decided to get out of there quick and leave them to it.  Her pity for the girl was building by the minute.

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “But like I said, I didn’t know he was around here.  What did it matter if Lee left him money in the will?”

“It matters because the fucking bastard has everything he ever wanted in life!” Danny roared at her then, rising up from his chair, his fists balled at his sides. “It matters because he’s never paid for a fucking thing! Not like me!  He’s got a fucking student pub, full of fucking drugged up kids, and none of them know what he’s really  like do they?”

Kay decided there and then to skip the tea she had not even touched yet.  It was obvious that Lucy had something extremely important to discuss with Danny, and her being there was simply enraging him.  She pushed back her chair and stood up. “I don’t know what you want me to say Danny.  I’m sorry.  As usual.  I am sorry I have ruined everything for you.  I don’t know how many times I will have to say that.  But as for Jack Freeman, maybe you should do those kids a favour and let them know?  Just a thought.”  She smiled at Lucy and headed for the door.  “Maybe that would get rid of him, who knows?  Is that what you want?”

“I wanted to kill him, that’s what I wanted last night,” Danny growled, still standing.  “I wanted to hurt him and I wanted to fucking kill him.  The disgusting fuck admitted everything, you know.”

Kay sucked her breath in, and stepped closer to him.  She searched his eyes for a moment, trying to work out which way he was heading. In the end it felt safe to reach out and find his hand.  She circled her fingers slowly around his, and when he did not pull away, she enclosed her hand tightly upon his and pulled him to her.  “You wanted to know,” she said softly, now totally forgetting about Lucy.  “At least now you know.”

She watched his face soften, and his body relaxed slightly.  His hand felt warm and soft inside hers and she yearned to pull him into her body, and enfold him in her arms.  “He said he was sorry.”

“Did he?  Did he mean it?”

“I think so.  He said he loved me for fucks sake.”

“Well, there you go.” Kay smiled at the insanity of it all and could not hold back any longer.  She tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him to her, and once she had him, she wrapped her arms firmly around his back, and pressed her face into his neck.  She felt him stiffen, and she remembered that he had done that, even when he was a baby.  “I love you,” she said into his ear.  “And I know that doesn’t help you very much with any of this, but I need you to know it.  I love you and I’m here for you, whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.  I’m with you Danny.  I’m proud of you.  You need to sit and talk with Lucy.”  She felt him shudder with a sigh, and he pulled back from her, dragging one hand awkwardly across his eyes.  “You were very brave,” she told him softly.  “Did you see him alone?”

Danny nodded. “Mike waited outside.  He came in after a while…he pulled me off him.”

“That was lucky.”  Kay glanced at Lucy, still sat wordlessly at the table. She knew it was time for her to go.  “Right,” she said, reaching up to pat her son on the shoulder.  “I’m off.  I only wanted to check in with you all.  I’ve got things to do.  I shall leave you both in peace.”

Neither of them said a thing, as she left the flat, and closed the door gently behind her.  Kay headed for her car, her mind a whirl of images.  She thought of Jack Freeman, and wished she had asked Danny which pub he meant.  She imagined her son then, stood before the other man who had taken advantage of him, the man who had pulled the wool so completely over her own eyes.  How must that have felt, she wondered, and a shiver snaked down her spine at the thought.  She could only imagine how strongly Danny must have wanted to hurt him.

That’s okay, she thought coldly, as she climbed into her car and pulled out her mobile phone, I want to hurt him too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lucy

37

 

 

She found herself alone in the kitchen with Danny, and suddenly it felt too hard to breathe.  Panic hurtled through her, taking her by surprise, making her feel giddy and drowsy, and not quite there.  He had sat back down, only glancing at her once.  He had picked up his tea, and was taking successive sips, his eyes darting around the room, picking out objects to glare at, avoiding her.  She forced herself to take a deep, long breath, drumming her fingernails softly against the tabletop while she struggled through her own mind, trying to remember everything she had planned to say to him.  Where had it all gone?  Her mind had gone blank!  It was empty, totally empty.  Fear, blind fear careered through her, and she wanted to get up and run dramatically from the room, away from him.  Would he follow her?  Would he care?  Or would he merely roll his eyes in disgust and walk out?

Lucy pushed her hair back behind her ears and shook her head at her own stupidity.  She felt like a teenager, not a woman in her twenties, not a grown up, with a grown up job, and her own flat.  She felt like a stupid kid, caught out, about to get scolded, about to get put in her place.  She felt sick, and her head pounded.  She reached up with one hand, the fingers seeking urgently through her hair, until her forehead found a place to rest within her palm.  He wasn’t going to speak to her was he?  He was just going to sit there and make it difficult for her, wasn’t he?  “I didn’t know she was coming,” she said then, blurting it out before she could think twice, before she could question whether it was the right thing to say or not.  His eyes swam to meet hers.  She wondered what she saw there.  “She just turned up,” Lucy shrugged at him.  He gave a brief nod.

“Are you okay?” he sighed.  “You’ve been ill or something?”

Lucy wanted to laugh.  She imagined he was taking in the state of her, the dressing gown and the unbrushed hair.  “You could say that,” she replied, and considered then, launching straight into it, shouting it out just like that; I’m pregnant! I’m pregnant and it’s yours!  She found herself suddenly biting down hard on her bottom lip, to stop herself.  “No, I mean,” she said quickly, “I’m fine.  I’m fine.  How about you?  I can’t believe you went to see him.  Freeman.”

Danny sniffed, drank some more tea and stared down at the floor.  “Second on the list,” he shrugged.

“What do you mean?”

“Of the people who might have it in for me,” he explained, eyes still down. “Dennis, Lee’s brother, Freeman, and Jerry, Lee’s dad.  Well, that’s all I have so far, there could be more.  The bastard could have fans all over the place for all I know.”

“You’ve seen the brother?”

“Yeah.  It’s not him.”

“How do you know?”

Danny rubbed at one eye with two fingers, and still, he kept his eyes away from hers.  He looked agitated, she thought.  Calmer than he had before his mum had pulled him into her arms, but still on edge, still brimming and overflowing with all the things Lucy feared she would never again be a part of.  “Long story,” he said, ending the conversation.

“You can tell me,” she tried.  He looked at her then, and it made her wish that he hadn’t.  She wanted to cry, looking into those angry blue eyes. 

“You wanted out,” he said, his tone emotionless.

“No I didn’t.  That’s not what I wanted.  I wanted to stay friends, and I wanted, I hoped, once you’d had some time alone, that we would still have a future.” Lucy felt the tears growing closer and took another deep breath to steady herself. 

“Is that what this is all about then?” Danny asked her.  “Calling me over and saying it’s urgent?  You want me back or something now?”

“How have you been?” she asked instead, pushing back the urge to shout it out at him, it is urgent, you silly sod, it can’t get any more urgent!  Danny scoffed at her in reply, banging his empty cup down onto the table, and looking away from her, shaking his head angrily.

“You’re unbelievable Lucy.”

“I’m only asking.  I just want to know how you’ve been.”

“You want to know if I’ve done what you wanted?” he turned his eyes back on her, and this time he was smiling a cruel smile.  “You want to know about that?  You want to know if I’ve checked out other women, just to be sure you’re the right one?”  Lucy averted her gaze to the table, where her phone lay quiet and dead.  She couldn’t blame him, she told herself.  “Well I have actually, if you want to know the truth.” He raised his eyebrows at her in triumph, and sat back again, leaning back in his chair and glancing at the door, as if planning his escape.  Lucy nodded silently, and tried to absorb the information.  She knew she had no right to be upset, but still, she felt the pain hit her like a dull thud to the chest, and she had to breathe in and out again, as the words he had spoken crashed from side to side in her head.

“It’s okay,” she managed to utter, swallowing back tears.  “I understand.  I understand why you’re angry with me, and I understand why you did it.”

“Do you want to know who it is?” he shot at her, sitting forward in his chair now, and folding his arms on top of the table.  His eyes bore into hers.  She tried to look away, but he seemed to be able to hold her there, his eyes wide and staring, his mouth a grim straight line.  She shrugged in reply.  What did it matter?  What did it matter who he had been with? “Caroline Haskell,” Danny informed her, shaking his hair from his eyes and moving his arms, spreading his hands palm down on the table.  Lucy nodded again.  Swallowed.  Wondered when she ought to tell him about the baby growing inside of her.  “The reporter.  And before you ask, no, it wasn’t when we were together, it was after you dumped me.”

“Danny I didn’t call you here to talk about all of that,” Lucy said, now blinking furiously to rid her eyes of the tears that threatened to fall.  She did not want to cry in front of him, she really didn’t.  He frowned at her and gestured his impatience with his hands.

“What, you don’t want to hear all about it?  You don’t want the details?  You’re not happy I did what you wanted?”

Lucy could only shake her head, and wrap her arms around herself protectively.  “Did it make you happy?” she asked uselessly.  “You don’t seem happy.”

“I was happy when I was with you,” he replied, teeth clenched. “I was alright when I was with you.”

“I’ve got to tell you something Danny.” She said it quickly, and purposefully.  She said it before he could say another word.  She found herself turning to face him, leaning across the table and staring right into his confused eyes.  “I can’t sit here any longer, shitting myself, so I’m just going to come right out and say it.”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Eh?” 

“I’m pregnant, Danny.  Pregnant.”  Lucy found a little strength returning to her now, as she witnessed his seeping away from him.  His face had gone pale rather quickly, and his mouth was hanging open.  She saw his gaze drop to her middle, then back to her face, then back to her body again.  She stared back at him, waiting for his first response, wondering what it might be, not letting herself dare believe it could be positive.  He just looked dazed, she thought, like he had just been violently woken from a heavy sleep and had no idea what was going on. Then he sat back very slowly, moving back away from her.

“You what?”

She sighed.  “Pregnant.  I’m pregnant Danny. I’m having a baby and it’s yours.  It’s yours.”

He stood up then, the legs of the chair screeching across her floorboards.  She imagined him running for the door, leaving it hanging open behind him, and she wanted to smile suddenly, and had to stop herself.  She covered her mouth with one hand, watching him cautiously over the top of it.  “I don’t understand,” he murmured at her.  She shrugged.

“I think it was the night you got back.  We weren’t careful Danny.”

“But you were on the pill, weren’t you?” He pointed at her with one hand, while the other raked through his hair.  “Weren’t you on the pill or something?

“No Danny, I told you I wasn’t.  I had no need to be.  I’d been on my own for ages.  We took a risk Danny.  Remember?  Neither of us cared at the time.”

He stared at her silently. For a moment he looked almost petulant, with his bottom lip jutting out, and his forehead creased in a heavy frown.  He looked angry with her.  “I don’t remember that,” he argued.  “You should have said!  I told you I didn’t want kids, Lucy, I told you!”

“Alright, that’s fine,” she found herself shouting back, and getting to her feet.  “I knew you’d have this reaction, so that’s fine.  You can go now.  I just needed to tell you, that’s all.”

“Are you deliberately trying to fuck with my head?” he roared at her then, hands back on the table, cheeks flushing red.  “First you dump me then you call me to say you’re pregnant! I don’t want kids Lucy!  I told you that!”

Lucy felt the anger rushing through her quickly.  She lifted her arm and pointed to the door.  “Get out then,” she said tightly.  “If that’s how you feel, just go! If you don’t want this baby, that is fine with me, just go.  Go on! Go!”

“Right,” he snarled at her.  “I fucking will!”

She watched him go.  The door slammed so hard behind him that her coat fell down from the hook in the hallway, and she jumped.  Lucy found herself staring furiously at the empty space he had just exited from. Fine, fuck off, fuck off then!  She had expected herself to cry, but the tears had gone.  Instead she just felt a roaring, spiteful anger, and a vicious protectiveness towards the life inside of her.  She sat down suddenly, crossing her arms over her stomach. We don’t need him, we don’t need him, if that’s how he feels, we’ll be fine on our own. She realised then that the baby was becoming just that to her, a baby, a person, a life all of its own, not just a situation anymore, or a dilemma I’m pregnant.  It was a baby.  It was her baby.  Lucy closed her eyes, sadness washed over her and she shook her head, tightening her arms across herself, unable to fathom how she had managed to make such a mess of it all.

Lucy

34

 

 

Lucy seemed to have experienced every conceivable emotion during the hour since the pregnancy test had come up positive.  For a long time she had just sat in stunned silence, her pants still around her ankles, the white stick trembling in her hand, her mouth hanging open in surprise.  Eventually she had moved to somewhere more comfortable to go through the rest of the emotions that tumbled through her; the kitchen table, with a cold cup of tea in front of her.  She felt herself shooting violently between abject fear, and euphoric joy, with everything else in between, including wanting to laugh out loud.  She had her phone on the table too.  She picked it up every now and again, her thumb rubbing gently across the buttons, as she thought about calling her mum, or Danny, or anyone.  Then she would put it down and drop her head back into her hands in exasperation.  She considered going out to buy more tests.  Wasn’t that what women normally did? Took a whole load of them just to be sure?

It seemed like a plan, and a plan was what she needed.  She forced herself up from the table, swiping a dry tea towel from the back of the chair to dab at her damp eyes.  She checked herself in the hallway mirror, smoothing down her hair and blinking away the last lot of tears. She turned sideways and wondered how it was possible that she looked fatter than normal.  Panicking, she sucked in her stomach, and pulled at the waist of her jeans, wondering how long they had been feeling tight for.  Fresh air, Lucy told herself.  Fresh air, and a brisk walk back to the chemist.  It would be humiliating buying more tests, but it had to be done.  Then she would know.  Then she would be able to start making decisions.

Lucy grabbed her coat and scarf and left her flat, slamming the door abruptly behind her.  She marched down the road towards the row of shops.  She remembered how the row of shops had helped her make the decision to buy the flat.  The convenience of it, having everything she needed just on the doorstep.  She felt brighter, and braver, as she walked on.  She found herself nodding to herself, telling herself it would be okay, one way or another, it would all be okay. 

She bought three more tests and felt her cheeks redden when she handed them to the middle aged woman behind the till.  The woman could not resist raising her eyebrows and smiling slightly.  Lucy could tell she was just dying to ask her about it, to start a conversation, but she just bagged them up quietly without a comment, and Lucy paid, and left the shop. Right, she thought, stepping back out into the cold evening, get in, do these, make another tea while waiting, then we’ll know what we’re doing. 

As she walked, her hand inadvertently drifted to her stomach, and she found herself looking down, wondering…what if?  She shook her head, walked faster. No, I don’t know for sure yet, it could be wrong, I’m just fat! I’ve been comfort eating, and I’ve missed my periods because of stress, yes, that’s it!  Back in the flat, Lucy slammed the door shut and kicked off her shoes again.  She ducked into the kitchen long enough to click on the kettle and dump a clean cup on the side.  Then she hurried back to the little bathroom and started to tear off the packaging from the tests.  She wondered why she didn’t feel so scared this time around; was it because she expected them all to be negative and the first to have been wrong?  Or was it because she knew they would all say the same thing?

Lucy did what was required of her, and went back to the kitchen to make her cup of tea.  She put the radio on, and made the cup of tea, and forced herself to sit down and drink all if it, before going back to the bathroom.  An old Smiths song was playing, and it made her think of Danny, and her heart lurched a little, and her pulse accelerated.  She gathered herself together and tried not to think about anything at all.  When the tea was gone, she slid back her chair and gracefully walked back to the bathroom.  She had lined all three tests up on the windowsill, and picked them up one at a time.  She hitched in her breath; positive, positive, positive. Okay then.

Lucy felt strangely calm and detached from them as she let them fall into the bin, turned around and walked out of the bathroom.  She chewed the nail on her thumb, went back to the kitchen and sat back down, and saw her phone was still on the table where she had left it.  I’m having a baby.  It was a strange, dislocated thought.  Her lips tugged into a smile, and then she started to cry.

Lucy cried on and off for an hour and a half.  Then she pulled herself together again, and picked up the phone.  She thought about who to call, who to text.  She wanted her mother desperately, and every time she even thought about her, fresh tears would fill her eyes.  She realised she had never felt quite so alone before, and found it odd that discovering she was pregnant, somehow made her want to curl up and cry in her own mother’s lap.  But it felt wrong somehow to tell her mother first.  As much as it terrified and pained her, Lucy brought up Danny’s number.  She pressed call and held her breath.  As it rang, she decided not to tell him over the phone, but just to explain that she needed to see him urgently.  He did not pick up.  The phone went to messages, so she hung up.  Instead of leaving a message, she quickly typed him a text; tried to call u ,pls call me, v urgent, need 2 c u v urgent, Lucyxx  She pressed sent and dropped the phone back onto the table.  There.  Done.  Well, almost.

Lucy rubbed her face with both hands and thought about the thing she now knew was growing inside her.  It seemed impossible and amazing and terrifying and soothing and wonderful and unbelievable all at once.  What will he say? She glanced through her fingers at her phone. What on earth will he say?  What will he think?  What will he do? What am I going to do?

Then she remembered her mum, and quickly grabbed the phone up again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Michael

35

 

           

Michael did not hesitate when he saw Danny behind the bar with Jack Freeman.  He ran to the bar, could not find a way in, so jumped right over it, and grabbed Danny by his arms.  “Danny no!  No! Stop it!” He wrestled him away from the bloodied man on the floor.  At first he felt him struggling to get away, to go back for more, and he held onto him as tightly as he could, trying to drag him further from Freeman.  Then he felt him relaxing underneath his arms, and he loosened his grip slightly. “What the fuck are you doing mate?” he asked, still holding onto his arms.  “What are you doing?”

Michael almost did not dare look down at Jack Freeman, but then he heard him grunting and groaning, and when he looked, he saw he was pulling himself back up to a sitting position.  He held both arms around his middle, leaning forward as he coughed and spluttered, while thick rivers of blood ran down from his face.  Danny was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his fists still balled in front of him.  “Let him, let him!” Jack Freeman coughed from the floor, waving one hand at them both, before wrapping it back around his body.  “I deserve it all…let him finish me off.”

“No way,” Michael shook his head in disgust and pushed Danny behind him, blocking his way.  He kept one hand on his arm, holding it firmly. “And spend the rest of his life in jail?  Just what you lot fucking want I bet!”

“I’m nothing to do with all that, I told you…” Freeman was shaking his head at them. 

“Liar!” Danny spat, pressing up against Michael, trying to get back at him. “Why are you here then?  Just around the fucking corner! All of you are! You phone that cunt now, you get Jerry Howard here right now, I want to see him!”

“We need to get out of here,” Michael turned to him, both hands pushing him back now.  “You can’t do this Danny, let’s just go!”

“I’m telling you, it’s not me, it’s not me…” Freeman said again, his tone desperate now.  Michael looked down at him.  He saw an overweight man in his sixties, bloodied and beaten, his slate grey eyes swollen and puffed up.  He got onto his knees, kept one arm around his middle and held the other hand up, as if holding them back.  “Listen to me Danny,” he said, “listen, it’s not me…It is Jerry, you’re right, he tried to get me involved….He’s been pestering me and winding me up just like his fucking precious son used to do…But I said no, you hear me?  I said no, I said to leave you alone, just like I warned Lee to leave you alone, yeah?  It’s the truth Danny, it’s the truth!”

“You expect us to believe that?” Michael glared down at him, holding Danny back.  “Why should we believe you?”

“Because I have no beef with Danny, I told him that,” was the blood-choked reply.  “We’re even.  He got me back.  I deserved it then, and I deserve it now.  I was just a weak, weak man…I disgust myself, believe me!” He started to cough, and placed one hand down on the floor to steady himself, blood spraying from his mouth as his chest heaved up and down.  Michael looked back to Danny, and tried to push him back again, but he resisted, pushing back against him, grabbing the bar with one hand and trying to pull his way free.

“You call Jerry Howard and tell him it has to stop!” he shouted at Freeman. “I’m not having it! I’ll kill all of you if I have to! Will you all be happy then?  Look what you’ve turned me into! Look at me!”

“Danny come on,” Michael urged him, blocking him again with his body, “leave the filthy bastard, leave him, forget about it, let’s just go!”

“Will you tell him to stop it all?” Danny said again, and Michael could hear the begging in his voice now, and he was giving up fighting to get past.  He held onto him just the same, keeping his hand on his arm, as he slowly sank against the bar, his head in hand.  Michael glanced quickly at the bottle of whiskey and empty glasses on the bar, and wondered how many they had had.  “Will you?” he asked Howard, sagging forward now, as if his legs were giving up on him.  He was looking at Freeman as if he could not bear to, yet could not look away.  “Will you tell him he has to leave me alone?  Please?”

“I’ll call him,” Freeman nodded, sitting back on his legs, his hands lying limply upon his thighs, and his double chin resting on his chest. “I’ll talk to him.  Get him to stop it all.”

Danny was staring at him, just nodding.  “It’s not fair,” Michael heard him say, his head hanging lower. “I was just a kid…I didn’t do anything to any of you.”

“I know, I know that,” Freeman was still nodding. His face looked battered, Michael thought, eyeing him in distaste and distrust.  “I’ll talk to him, I will.”

Danny pushed away from where he had been leaning against the bar, and moved towards Freeman.  Michael automatically reached out for him, gripping his arm to pull him back.  “That’s why I came here,” Danny said to Freeman, “to put an end to it all.  It should all be over, shouldn’t it?”

“Danny, let’s go,” Michael said again, more insistently this time.  He could not bear another minute in close proximity to a man like Jack Freeman.  He looked at his friend in concern, and wondered what the hell had just passed between them, what had set Danny off like that.  He pulled his arm again, even firmer. “You’ve done what you came to do, yeah?  Let’s get out of here, get away from him.”

Danny nodded, released a shuddering sigh, and turned towards Michael, his eyes averted to the floor.  Michael breathed out in relief and turned with him, heading towards the gap in the bar further down.  He heard Jack Freeman cough again behind them. It was a wet, thick sound.  Then he called out; “he always sort of admired you, you know Danny.”

“What?” Danny stopped, and looked back at him in confusion.

“Lee,” said Freeman, his large round shoulders bobbing up and down as he breathed heavily through his busted nose.  “He was a dangerous man, but a part of him admired you, for not giving in to him.  Everyone else always did, you know?  But not you.  That’s why he got tougher and tougher on you wasn’t it?”

Danny just shook his head.  “What do you mean by that?”

“I just wanted you to know,” the man shrugged at him.  “He wanted to crush it out of you, but at the same time there was a part of Lee that respected you, whenever you told him to fuck himself, or whatever.  You were never as scared of him as you could have been.”

“I fucking was,” Danny disagreed vehemently. Michael saw the rage flashing back in his eyes.  “I didn’t fucking sleep for years, when he was around! I couldn’t fucking eat half the time, my stomach would be in knots!  It was like I couldn’t breathe…it was like…” he trailed off then, shaking his head in dismay, trying to find the words he needed.

“There was a part of Lee that wanted you to like him,” Freeman said then, his tone more assertive, as if he was speaking of something he really understood. “I mean it, I know it sounds crazy, but I wanted you to know…he wanted what he had with his dad, I mean.  That admiration.  The way they felt about each other.”

“Well he went the wrong fucking way about it, didn’t he then?” Michael retorted, finally dragging Danny on again, and steering him away and around the other side of the bar.  “He should have tried being a normal decent human being, and not beating the shit out of a kid who couldn’t defend himself, shouldn’t he eh? And you’re just as bad you fat sack of shit, why don’t you do the world a favour and throw yourself off the fucking cliffs eh?  The lives you’ve ruined, how the fuck do you even sleep at night?” Michael kept his hand on Danny’s back, propelling him towards the doors.  “Piece of shit,” he said and spat, right across the bar at Jack Freeman.  The man stared back blankly, blood pooling around his doughy cheeks. 

Michael shoved open both sets of doors, herding Danny back out into the night air.  They marched quickly towards the car, Danny with his eyes down, his face confused, and Michael scanning the road nervously, always on the lookout for trouble.  He unlocked the car quickly, guided Danny into the passenger seat, slammed the door and dashed around the other side.  “You okay?” he asked, even though he knew it was a stupid and useless question.  “What happened in there?”

Danny pulled his seat belt across him slowly, his expression dazed. Kurt was already whimpering and wriggling, trying to squeeze himself through from the back.  He turned and grabbed him, smoothing back his ears and kissing him on his head.  Michael was sure he could see tears shining in his eyes.  “I could have killed him,” he said finally, dropping his head back against the seat and closing his eyes. “I think I would have killed him.”

“Why?” asked Michael, reaching down to switch on the engine. “What did he do?  What did he say to you?  Is he in on it all?”

“I don’t think so, I’m not sure,” Danny shook his head, opened his eyes and blinked furiously.  Finally, he had no option but to lift one hand and wipe his eyes.

“Fucking crazy,” Michael said, because he did not know what else to say about it.  “All of it.  Him, being here, all this time?  I don’t get it.”

“Howard left him half the old club,” Danny replied, sniffing. “Mum never said.  Or she didn’t know.  I don’t know.”

“Why stay around here though?  Why would he do that?”

“Don’t know.”

“I don’t get it.  Seems mad.  And it’s wrong.” Michael found himself glaring up at the pub.  “It’s fucking wrong.  What punishment did he ever get eh?  He gets a bloody pub!”

Danny snorted. “His miserable life is his punishment Mike.”

“Miserable?  Doesn’t look that bad to me!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Danny sighed, pulling out his phone. “Let’s just drive home.  Let’s get the hell away from here.”

“What about Dennis?” Michael asked. “Did you find out more about him?”

Danny was frowning down at his phone.  “Only that Lee and his dad despised the poor bastard.  Freeman messed around with him, and Lee caught him, and said it was okay.  Then he told his dad Dennis was gay and got him sent away for good.”

“Bastards…” Michael said softly, shaking his head. “So it’s Jerry, it’s Jerry Howard we need to target.  We need proof Dan, that’s what we need, we need to get proof and take it to the police. Get the old bastard locked up like you were. That’s what we’ve got to do mate.”  He checked his mirror and pulled away from the kerb side.

“Lucy’s called me too,” Danny said then, pressing buttons on his phone. “And texted me.  Says she needs to see me and it’s urgent.”

“Call her,” Michael said quickly. “Something might have happened.”

Danny nodded and held the phone to his ear, waiting.  Then; “Lucy?  It’s me.  What’s wrong?”  Michael glanced at him, trying to read his expression.  Again, he wondered what had passed between him and Jack Freeman, and why Danny had wanted to go in there alone.  “Okay.  Tomorrow is fine.  Okay bye.”  Danny hung up the phone, and frowned. “Don’t know what that’s about.”

“She okay?”

“Yeah, nothing’s happened.  Just said she needs to see me urgently.  I’ll go around tomorrow.”

Michael breathed out again. “You need to call Haskell.”

“Mmm.”

“You do.  Now, I mean.  You need Jerry’s fucking address, ‘cause that’s where we’re gonna’ go next, believe me.  But I’ll come with you this time and I’m not taking no for an answer.”  Michael glared sideways at Danny, who shrugged in reply. “You gonna’ tell me why you started beating him or what?”

Danny covered his mouth with one hand for a moment. “I think everything will be revealed when we speak to Jerry,” he said, again avoiding the question. “You’re right.  I’ll text Haskell now.  Get on with it.  Can’t live in this nightmare much longer.”

“You’ll be all right,” Michael told him, his tone softening.  “He was right about one thing, wasn’t he?”

“What?”

“You never let Howard win, he never won.  He never got what he wanted.”

Danny sighed, raised his eyebrows and turned his face to the window. “I don’t think anyone has got what they wanted,” he said softly.