But would they get it away in time?
It kept picking up speed, as everyone figured out what was happening — and started leaping off the stage as if it was a sinking ship.
Jack looked up.
Almost there.
But he guessed — the song now abruptly ended — then whatever was below the riser … could blow any minute.
*
Sarah saw that Jamie held his phone high in his hand.
Right. A phone. Can do anything. Even send a signal to the stage.
But James Keane’s eyes weren’t on the stage now — on whatever Jack was doing — but locked on her, as she raced towards him.
Then, even closer, and though dark and shadowy here, she saw his eyes wide, lips set.
She sensed Daniel keeping pace with her.
And she’d never loved him more.
Jamie must have made a calculation, because now he started backing away, ready to run.
That decision made, she saw him bolt off to the right, to where there would be woods and plenty of places to get lost.
If they didn’t catch him. If they didn’t stop him.
Sarah was never more glad that she hadn’t abandoned those early morning runs. As for Daniel, he was always fast.
Inches away, she locked a hand on Keane’s poncho, and he spun around, fist raised.
*
Jack reached the end of the stage, the riser hitting a metal lip at the edge hard, just what was needed to stop it dead — and tip it up.
And with the three of them pushing the thing at this speed, it rose up and began to cartwheel the last few feet, flying out of the back of the open stage into the grassy area Jack had visited earlier with Becky.
Which is when Jack, with a quick nudge to Ryan, Jess and Alfie, indicated they had better move as fast as possible in the other direction.
*
Sarah dodged Keane’s fist, and then Daniel was right there throwing an arm around the man’s neck.
But Sarah looked down. In Jamie’s right hand — the phone. Fingers still able to move.
And they did.
*
Just as Jack and the others hit the front of the stage — the crowd now well away from what was clearly something bad — an explosion erupted behind them and they tumbled forward into the slippery muck below.
Jack raised himself up on his arms, looked around.
The crowd was okay. Ryan, the rest of the band … all okay too.
Behind the stage — flames. But no other damage.
Then Jack felt something in his right leg. A dagger of pain. That landing maybe in fact having claimed a casualty.
His right kneecap throbbed; feeling like it would indeed need attention.
But then, he thought of Sarah. And despite that knee, he forced himself to stand up.
*
Sarah heard the explosion on the stage behind her as she, with moves taught to her by Jack, twisted Keane’s arm, until the phone — the obvious triggering device — fell to the mud.
Daniel spoke: “Don’t worry, Mum. I got him.”
And that he did. Sarah knew that security, the police, would be here in seconds.
She turned and finally took a look back at the stage.
Which miraculously looked empty, even as something big burned out of control behind it.
And, backlit by that fire, crowd scattering, she saw someone kind of hobbling, limping. Coming right towards her.
Jack Brennan. Looking okay. Even … smiling.
And she couldn’t have been happier.
18. Finally, a Pouilly
A summer night in her garden. Moon up, air balmy. Perfect, Sarah thought as she carried out the bottle of Pouilly-Fuissé, chilling in a slim metal bucket.
Jack sat at her garden table with Ryan and Jess — as if they happened to be just young neighbours who’d dropped in to share the weather, and the delicious wine.
And as she got closer, Ryan said, “Jack, you saw the doctor today, about the knee?”
“That I did.”
Jess said: “And it will all be okay, right?”
“Well, he didn’t exactly say that. Seems a little surgery might be in my future.”
Sarah looked to Jack. When he’d told her, she’d assumed it was because of his tumble in the mud. But apparently, that right knee had been giving him trouble for some time.
No matter — she’d be there for whatever he needed.
Sarah set the cooler down, and pulled a chair close to the table as Jack grabbed a corkscrew and made quick work of the cork.
He looked over to her. “Nice and cold. This will be special.”
He poured the wine. As each person took a glass, Jack made the toast.
“To Unlost!”
Clinks all round. The wine was deliciously dry and crisp, just as Sarah liked it.
But she knew that this get together was about more than about celebrating the band and their Cherringfest debut. There were still some things to wrap up …
Jack started: “Imagine the police had a lot of questions?”
Ryan nodded. Then he looked at Jack and Sarah.
“They said, well, so very lucky for us that you two were there.”
Jack laughed. “Oh, yes, while it didn’t seem that way at the time, we were very lucky.”
Then, Ryan let his smile fade. “You know. Us not telling you things? It put you in more danger.”
Sarah nodded at that. She and Jack knew the basic outline of what Ryan had kept hidden — that he had been there that night all those years ago, with Liam Keane. That they had mucked around inside the abandoned gas depot, ultimately setting a fire—
And Liam had become trapped and killed, while Ryan escaped.
The guilt — had to be overwhelming.
And, as if picking up on this, Ryan started: “You know. That day … I had to goad Liam into drinking. I mean, he was younger than me. I’d got hold of the booze, some of my stepdad’s cheap whisky. Hit the kid hard. Was my idea to go into that place.”
“Kids,” Jack said slowly, “will be kids. Which of us hasn’t done some pretty dangerous things when we were young?”
“Yeah. Maybe. But then the fire, out of control … we had to run, but when I turned I could see Liam trapped. And the flames … There … there was nothing I could do.”
The raw story of that night was suddenly with them; the real inspiration for the song “Phoenix”.
Then Jess took his hand.
“You lived with that guilt for years, Ry. Years. Nearly destroyed you. But then, you stopped letting it destroy you, as if that fire still wanted you as well.”
For a second — quiet.
Jack, again slowly: “And, all those years you never knew — when you ran out of that factory — that someone saw you.”
“Liam’s brother,” Ryan said. “He and Liam, they were at a different school, see. So, he didn’t know who I was. They never did … connect me. And then, things went bad at home for me, and, before I knew it — like just weeks later — I was in London. With a new family. New name even.” He sniffed at the air, the memory. “And new problems.”
“And without you even realising, you would eventually face a far worse problem than guilt. Revenge.”
Ryan shook his head at that. “He … Jamie, acted so friendly when he first saw me at a gig a couple of weeks back, after hearing the song — even with him suddenly then knowing it was me. Recognising me. Guess … that’s where it all started.”
“And almost ended — with you and the band going up in flames as well.”
Then Ryan turned to Sarah. “You think they’ll go easy on him? I mean — you know the police around here right, the courts? What Jamie did, it’s all so understandable.”
Sarah paused to take a sip of the wine.
“Understandable? Sure. Just as we can all understand what you did that night — as Jack said, kids will be kids — we can understand what Jamie Keane felt too. That loss. But attempted murder? No question, he’ll have to ans
wer for that.”
Ryan nodded. “Maybe some day I’ll write to him. Try to explain.”
Sarah wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad idea. And she guessed Ryan would never truly be free of the memories of that night.
But then — a hopeful sign — she saw Ryan squeeze Jess’s hand.
“And maybe get back to writing songs about other things. Other times, you know?”
“We will,” Jess said with a finality. “Great songs.”
They even laughed. “Long as we can keep Alfie with us,” said Ryan. “Does his guitar ever make us soar.”
Sarah looked up the garden to where Alfie was sitting with Chloe, teaching her some guitar chords.
Interesting. The two of them getting on very well indeed.
“Oh, I think now you two have come clean with him about your secrets, he’ll stick around,” said Sarah.
She was aware of taking a deep breath. The moment passed, as if navigating a rocky coast, storm clouds passing.
This talk of the future. Of new work, of lives together. Of being young and looking forward, not backwards. She turned to Jack who she imagined might be thinking — with relief — the same thing.
And as to the future for the two of them …?
She raised her glass.
“How about another toast? To Jack Brennan’s knee. May he be fully back up to speed just as soon as possible.”
With the clink of glasses, Jack laughed, and said, “Amen to that.”
THE END
Next episode
It’s winter in Cherringham, and petty thief Charlie Topper’s life is in danger. Desperate, he reaches out to Jack and Sarah for help: last summer — during a robbery — he witnessed a cold-blooded murder, and now he fears the killer is after him. Can Jack and Sarah solve this very cold case — before the desperate murderer comes for them too?
Cold Case
CHERRINGHAM
by Matthew Costello & Neil Richards
Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series
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Cherringham--Killer Track Page 12
