by Adam Grinter
I tried to focus out the noise as I reached for my phone.
One new message from Robert with a link.
I clicked it and YouTube popped up in my phone’s screen. Seconds passed as the selected page loaded. A black and white picture appeared which eventually sprang to life. The footage was about to change John’s life.
The CCTV footage was remarkably good quality and even on my tiny screen I could make out John’s features as he walked down the aisle towards the crash helmeted gunman. The footage had been shot from just above head height, behind the counter, registering the customer’s faces as they approached the till.
I wanted to turn away. I knew the outcome of the video, I’d been there. As if for confirmation I could see my feet at the top of the screen.
John stood next to the gunman, I could see John’s lips moving but there was no sound. I heard his words in my head instead.
The gunman turned the gun and pointed it at John. On the video there was no doubt it was millimetres from his nose. From sideways on I couldn’t make out the robber’s face as he raised his visor. I braced for what I was about to witness.
The shot exploded from the gun, even in the silent footage I could sense the force of the noise. My feet at the top of the screen disappeared as I recoiled. Instantaneously the fridge behind John exploded in a confusion of fizzy-drinks and shatter-proof glass. The liquid and shards of glass hitting John’s back and head without him seemingly feeling any of it.
The robber turned away from the camera and started to run towards the exit, seconds later I ran into shot and reached John. Maria followed seconds behind. I threw money on the counter and the three of us hustled out of frame to the exit. The footage ended.
I paused and took a breath. I’d tried to rationalise the petrol station scene in my mind over the last twelve hours. The only answer I could come up with, the gunman had just missed.
It was the only logical explanation.
This footage showed me he hadn’t missed. He hadn’t flinched as he took the shot. He hadn’t moved it to the side to deliberately miss. He had tried to kill him.
He had shot John point-blank in the face.
And John had survived; unharmed.
I played the footage again. It didn’t change. The outcome was the same. John was shot, John was unhurt.
I couldn’t explain it last night I couldn’t explain it now.
William was happily holding court with a number of the bishops. I knew I was going to have to show him. However, I needed to show Maria and John first.
I turned to them and noticed John was gripping Maria’s hand for dear life. Maria was not showing discomfort, but I could tell from the whiteness of her knuckles his grip was too tight. They were quiet while the bishops bombarded them with questions.
“Gentleman.” I said to the four or five who were opposite them. “I just need to have a quick word.” I tried to remain calm although panic was rising. This was rapidly escalating and seemed to be moving beyond my control.
The bishops moved over to William and began throwing questions at him instead of John and Maria.
“I need you to look at this.” I told them as I put my phone in Maria’s free hand.
She raised it to just below shoulder level so they could both see it. She pressed play with her thumb. I watched their faces as last night’s events played out on the small screen.
I could see the timeline of events play out on Maria’s face as she watched it for the first time. Shock, fear, disbelief.
“But he...” She let the sentence trail off.
“I know.” I nodded in agreement.
She pressed play and watched it again.
“Definitely?” One word that made no sense, but I understood her completely.
“I know.” I repeated.
“That’s why you...” She asked. She was struggling to find the words, I couldn’t blame her I’d had the same reaction the previous night.
“Yeah.” I agreed.
She scrolled the page down very slightly and looked at me.
“Nearly one million views and it’s only been up a couple of hours. Is not good. Going viral.”
“Shit.” What else could I say?
The phone rang in her hand, we both jumped at the tinny sound. We were lost in our own worlds, our own fears for John. She thrust the device towards me not only to let me answer the call but also to get it as far away from herself as she could.
I looked at the display. Robert, always Robert.
I answered.
“Hi.” I tried to calm myself and act normally; but I was shaken.
“You’ve seen it then?” Robert asked.
“Yeah. Who leaked it?” I asked not unreasonably.
“Don’t know.” Robert answered. “But my money’s on Manchester CID. The footage has been doing the rounds of the regional boys for the last six hours. No-one can explain it. I’ve kept quiet on your behalf, but they’re looking for you, they want you to answer some questions.”
“I bet they do.” I cut in.
“Why did you run?” He asked. “You knew they’d track you down.”
“Wouldn’t you run after seeing that. I didn’t think. I couldn’t think. I wanted away from there as quickly as possible.” I babbled.
“Uh huh.” Robert grunted his understanding. “Who is he?”
“No-one.” I replied automatically.
“This is the guy you wanted me to look up a couple of days ago, isn’t it?” Robert deduced.
“Robert please keep quiet about this, we’re not ready for it.” I pleaded. “I promise I’ll tell you when the time is right.”
“Just like you promised to tell me about that job you went for.” Robert was reminding me I hadn’t been forthcoming about anything in my life for the last six months. He tried to keep his tone light and friendly; he failed. There was an undercurrent of resentment there.
“I promise. Thanks.” I hung up, ignoring the damage I was causing to our relationship. I vowed to deal with it another time; soon.
It had been an ultimately unsatisfactory conversation on a couple of levels. But it had warned me of the police breathing down my neck. It kept me focused when I needed it most.
“William.” I said loud enough for him to hear. He looked over and I waggled my phone at him as if I needed him to take a call.
William extricated himself from his company and wandered back round the altar towards me. I opened my messages and pulled up Robert’s link, I clicked on it ready to show him.
As he reached me, I handed the phone to him. “Press play.” I said.
William’s reaction was different to Maria’s. He was unaware of this incident; I hadn’t told him about it. The realisation he was watching John was etched on his face; a surprised rictus grimace. The gun pointed at John and the look changed to horror. The shot happened and incredulity and wonder mingled to form one contradictory face of surprised happiness.
He watched it again. He looked at me as it finished for some sort of explanation.
“Last night on the way South.” I kept it brief. “I was there and I can’t explain it.”
William looked overjoyed. I’d found the miracle he’d been looking for.
“That’s two confirmed miracles. I could nominate him for sainthood right now.” William enthused.
“Not sure he’s ready for that.” I tried to keep my tone light but having investigated the requirements for canonisation I knew he was right. “So, what are you going to do?”
“Not sure yet, but the bishops need to see this video.” William answered.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen.” William called his meeting back to order. Silence descended again. “I need you to look at this video from last night.”
The phone was slowly passed around and people watched the CCTV footage unfold again and again.
Events were happening around me. I was quickly losing control over John and his destiny. I knew it wasn’t my place to dictate strategy to the Catholic chur
ch. I felt protective towards John and I could tell Maria felt the same. Somehow we needed to steer this back towards us.
I looked over at Maria and John and could see a look of disbelief at the events unravelling around them, I assumed was reflected back at them from me. Maria’s right hand had reached across herself and was resting on John’s forearm trying to give him the reassurance everything was going to be alright. I hoped it was working for John because I wasn’t so sure.
My phone was handed back to me as the last group finished watching the video. I looked at the screen and refreshed the page. I needed to see the view count.
Shit. One point one million.
I tried to remain calm as I walked back to John and Maria. I handed the phone to Maria as she disengaged her hand from John’s forearm. I tapped the view counter subtly as I did so. Maria looked at it briefly and her reaction relayed that she had the same understanding as me. In today’s modern world fame is a currency, however this type of recognition was something we definitely didn’t need. We weren’t going to be able to keep a lid on this much longer.
“John, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you any of this.” I said. “I didn’t think we would be ambushed like this. I thought it would only be William and we could have told you gently.”
John remained silent. The look of confusion was still etched on his face.
“John, talk to us.” Maria encouraged gently.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” John replied loudly. A few heads turned in our direction. Most of the bishops, however, were too engrossed in their own private discussions to pay us any attention.
John’s features were a mass of hurt and confusion. My heart genuinely broke for him. I’d not meant to hide this from him. But I hadn’t thought of the consequences of the revelation.
John stared accusingly at both of us as he pulled his hand clear of Maria’s. There was a moment of pause and doubt as he debated internally the best course of action.
He made his decision and he ran towards the exit.
Exodus
John was struggling to remain calm with all that was happening around him.
The bishops were relentless in their questioning. Faces passed in front of him as he turned one way and another. There was no escape from their gaze. They were studying him, questioning him, accusing him. He looked for a safe space, none presented itself.
Who are you?
What do you want from us?
What does God want to tell us?
His life at this moment was making no sense. How had he got into this surreal situation?
The CCTV footage made even less sense. The gunman had missed him. That was all that had happened.
The words were wrong.
The pictures were wrong.
Mother tried to soothe him, ‘I always said you were special.’
‘Special is what Mother’s say.’ John spat at Her in his mind.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He raged at Mother aloud.
He ripped his hand from Maria’s. He wanted to get away. He needed time to process. He needed air. He needed peace.
‘John, I’m sorry.’ Mother told him.
He listened, he waited for more. There was none. There were no more words to say.
He didn’t want to talk to Her. He wanted to be free of Her.
He had to go. There was nowhere to escape Her.
He didn’t care.
He ran.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Maria and I were slow to react to John’s rapid movement. He’d got round the altar and was heading towards the aisle before we moved after him. We followed his trail through the Cathedral to the front doors. They were both still closed. I hadn’t heard them open, he had to still be in here.
Maria was on my right. Unspoken, she peeled that way and I went left. There were a lot of dark corners. I peered into all of them as I slowed and made my way round the edge of the large space. I reached the front and hadn’t found him. I brushed past arguing bishops who were too engrossed in their own business to worry that the subject of their disagreements had made a bolt for freedom.
I walked across the front of the Cathedral to the opposite wall and looked up the side Maria was searching. I saw her on her haunches talking softly to a shadowy alcove. I approached her slowly.
“We so sorry, John.” She was saying. “Thomas and I feel terrible.”
We did.
“Come on, we help you.” She continued soothingly.
We would.
She reached her arm out into the gloom. Slowly she pulled it back and revealed lightly, and delicately, John’s hand held in hers again.
I held my breath as Maria drew her arm towards herself, scared any miss-move on my part would disengage the link she had with John. Slowly he emerged from the dark and stood in front of Maria.
No words were spoken but Maria sensed his need and hugged him maternally. John rested his head on her shoulder and allowed himself to be held.
I exhaled.
I allowed them their moment. I was acutely aware however, every passing minute meant the video’s viewing numbers were going up. The clamour for information, the publicity this would bring on our heads, the recognition this would create was growing exponentially. All of these would be problems we’d have to face. It was our very own reverse countdown.
I strode back to William and waited by his side trying to attract his attention through my proximity. William picked up on my not so subtle hint and turned towards me.
“We need to get John out of here while we still can.” I told him.
“We’re trying to decide what to do with him.” William told me redundantly.
“Let me know.” I said. “I’m on my phone.”
I turned away from him and the group. I left them to their arguments knowing the CCTV footage was blowing up and we weren’t going to be able to keep a lid on this for very much longer. The traditional media would pick up on it by the morning. Any decision this small group made could be taken out of their hands within twenty-four hours.
#
We headed back to my house, we’d purchased a pair of sunglasses and an ‘I love London’ red baseball cap to cover John’s face. John took a childlike delight in the fact we had bought him some souvenirs. I wasn’t sure he understood their practical use as a disguise against the strange looks he would get without them.
We arrived at my doorstep to find a visitor peering through the small glass panels at the top of the door. Seeing if there were any signs of life within.
Shit. They’ve found us already, I thought.
The figure turned, fear turned to relief. Robert saw me and cracked a broad smile.
“Thomas, my boy.” He was as bombastic face to face as he was over the phone. Our tense phone conversation of earlier forgotten now we were meeting in person.
His eyes darted from me to Maria. They stopped their movement when they reached John. He looked him up and down, obviously trying to work out what was special about him. I’d been around him for almost two days and could confirm, physically there was nothing to make him stand out from the crowd. There was just something that calmed you when you were with him.
Robert remembered his manners and thrust his meaty hand out. I took it and completed the physical greeting. He moved onto Maria, she shook his hand as he introduced himself to her. Her look registered surprise at his name but she didn’t question his presence outside my house.
Robert looked at John again and tentatively offered his hand. John took it and shook it. Robert seemed momentarily confused as he didn’t say anything. Then he blurted, “Robert Northam, pleased to meet you.”
“John Byrne.” John replied customarily.
Robert withdrew his hand and John put his by his side. We stood on the doorstep of my house in a slightly uncomfortable silence.
“Come on in.” I eventually said to Robert as I couldn’t stand the tension building around us.
I headed to the kitchen. Maria and John entered th
e living room and Robert followed me down the hallway. I filled the kettle and pottered in cupboards looking for mugs and biscuits. Robert would tell me why he was here fairly quickly, he didn’t do small talk on the phone or in real life. I waited. I didn’t wait long. The kettle hadn’t even boiled.
“Manchester CID want to question you about last night.”
My heart sank. I had bigger things to deal with. I didn’t need something like this to distract me, even though I knew this had been hanging over me since we had run into the night.
“OK.” I replied non-committally.
“I told them I’d do it for them.” Robert told me matter of factly. “It saves them travelling down, I’m here already. You’re not a suspect, just a witness so it’s just a formality.”
His logic was sound but, I was waiting for the ulterior motive. Robert hadn’t interviewed a witness in the field for years.
“Plus, I haven’t seen you in ages and I wanted to meet your mystery friend.” There it was.
“Oh, Maria.” I teased. The smile on my face gave me away and broke what could have been a tense exchange.
The kettle turned itself off and I focused on the mundane task of making everyone a brew. If in doubt have a cup of tea, as my mother used to say. In my case it was coffee, but the sentiment was the same.
I took John and Maria’s mugs into the other room and told them why Robert was there. Maria relaxed at the revelation and John assimilated the knowledge with no real outward reaction. It was impossible to tell what he thought of this news.
“I’ll go first.” I told them. “Just tell him the truth and it’ll be fine.”
I walked back into the kitchen and waited for Robert to begin his interrogation. I pushed the clutter to one side and pulled out two slightly small kitchen chairs. We were able to sit opposite each other at my tiny kitchen table. This may have been the first time I’d used it for anything other than just another storage space.
Robert took out a pen and notebook and flipped it open to the first empty page.
