by Drew Black
Philippa shook her head, and a tear escaped from her right eye. "No, it was me Jack, all along, I'm so, so, sorry. I've been wicked towards you, I honestly didn't know what I was getting myself into, until it was too late. I feel so bad, I want to die." Philippa's tears were increasing, she was desperately trying to retain her composure. Her temples were throbbing, she wiped her nose and looked at Jack through tearful eyes; "I'm so sorry Jack." she repeated.
Jack got to his feet, "What do you mean Philippa, you've been wicked to me? Two words flashed into Jack's confused mind - Eddie Briggs! She's a fuckin' plant he thought. Oh Christ, he'd been stitched up, what did she know? She's got a set of keys, your keys, for fuck sake. Jack began to perspire.
"David Quilter asked me to get information on you, so he could win that stupid election of yours." Philippa blurted out realising that she had now reached the point of no return.
Jack sat down again and frowned, "Quilter hired you?" he asked. "But you broke your leg."
Philippa nodded.
"What are you, some kind of prostitute?" Jack continued incredulously.
"I've done some escort work in the past, not much, I'm a P.A. like I told you."
Jack got to his feet again and began to pace the room. "I don't fuckin' believe this, he's hired in a prostitute to snoop on me, the guy's nuts. We'll he's done it this time, let him try and wriggle his way out of this one. Will you testify against him? Jack said stopping in his tracks. "Just to my people, that's all."
"No Jack, I can't he'd kill me, he might kill me anyway, but that's a chance I'm just going to have to take. I just have to get away from all this, but I just wanted to set the record straight before I left. I wanted to warn you about him. He's crazy Jack, honestly."
Jack shook his head, "He's full of shite, that’s what he is; always has been, always will be."
"Jack!"
Jack looked at her. She hesitated, and Jack realised she was about to tell him something, maybe something important. "Go on, what is it?" he prompted.
"He, he killed Jane. Well Jenkins did it, but it was Quilter who ordered him to. The man's psychotic, you were supposed to be in the car."
Jack sat down; "Quilter killed them, how the hell do you know that? Even if he, they had done it, they wouldn't be stupid enough to tell anyone." Even as Jack was speaking, realisation was dawning on him; this girl was a prostitute, and he imagined prostitutes knew a great deal about their clients, in some cases, even more than their wives did. He felt weird, now he knew for certain that not only had Quilter wiped out all the people he’d ever loved, but now he also knew for certain that he'd been responsible for Tom's accident at the mill as well. So, why for God's sake, had he never suspected Quilter over the car crash? Maybe Quilter had just got better at covering his tracks he thought with a feeling of dread.
"I've made a mistake Jack, I know it's a terrible one, but he offered me money, lots of it, and I swear I didn't know anything about Jane back then. Jenkins told me one night when he was drunk, I'm certain he doesn't remember telling me, and Quilter knows nothing about it because there's no way I'd be still here if he did. I swear on my life Jack, if I'd known anything about them killing your family, I would never have got involved." Philippa stared at Jack desperate for some kind of sympathetic reaction, but his expression was vacant. "Talk to me Jack, please. I love you, that's why I had to tell you the truth."
Jack snapped back into reality; "You love me?"
Philippa nodded.
"Jesus Christ woman, are you deranged, you accepted money to try and bring me down? That kind of love, I can do without, thank you very much."
"I know, I've been a fool, I saw this as an opportunity to start a new life. Yes, I've done escort work in the past, but I'm not a bad person, but this kind of thing is just way over my head."
"You're not a bad person?"
"No." Philippa replied, shaking her head.
"What about the dog? You killed that dog you fuckin' bitch."
Philippa's tears came again. "I knew nothing about the spaniel, I love animals." she said, "They just dumped me on your doorstep with it."
"Jesus Christ Philippa, if that's what your real name is?"
Philippa nodded, she covered her nose and mouth with her hands, steeple fashion.
"I don't know what to say to you. You made me feel alive again. When Jane, Tom, and Helen died, it felt as though my spirit had died with them, and somehow you brought me back."
Philippa looked up at him through a shroud of tears.
"I just can't believe it." Jack said his voice beginning to rise. His pacing quickened, "Your talent's wasted, you should be on the fuckin' stage." Jack remembered his glass of beer; he pushed the easy chair out of the way to get to it. He threw its contents onto the carpet.
Philippa realising Jack's intention got to her feet, but it was too late, he'd already smashed the glass on the edge of the coffee table and was rushing towards her with it.
Jack pinned her against the wall by her hair, trapping both of her legs with one of his own. He brought the glass up to her neck and held it there. Its longest shard pricked at her flesh, and a bead of blood appeared.
Philippa's eyes rolled wildly; "Please don't hurt me Jack." she pleaded trying with all her might not to move her throat. The blood began to trickle.
"Hurt you, hurt you? You don't know the meaning of hurt, but you're about to find out, that's a promise." Jacks eyes glowered, he suddenly felt a maddening urge to kill rush through his whole body and devour his sanity. He pulled the glass back.
Philippa closed her eyes.
Jack plunged the shattered glass into the wall off to the side of Philippa's head, blood began to ooze through his fingers.
Philippa opened her eyes; her heart was beating like crazy. She looked nervously up towards Jack's injured hand. He let the remnants of the glass fall to the carpet and pushed her roughly to one side. Philippa slid down the wall and crouched on the floor whilst Jack removed shards of glass from his red hand. Philippa stared up at him, with big eyes, wondering what he was about to do next. Jack simply left the room and went upstairs.
You're free to leave Philippa thought, as she sat on the floor. It's over, he won't hurt you anymore. She let out a deep sigh and pushed her hair back with trembling hands. Come on, she told herself, just get out of here, but the truth was she didn't want to leave. She'd been telling the truth when she said that she loved him. No other man had ever made her feel the way Jack had but could there possibly be a future for them after all this. She should've dismissed the suggestion as being downright ridiculous, but her mind refused to. He could've killed me up against this wall she thought, but he didn't, something had stopped him. It wasn't fear because, like herself, she was convinced that Jack had killed before. It was something else. Maybe, despite everything, he still loved her, or did he just pity her? She felt totally drained.
Time passed and still Philippa didn't move, she'd heard no movement from upstairs for over an hour. He is alright, isn't he? She thought, suddenly worried about him. She noticed how cold she felt and drew her knees towards her and hugged them. She prayed that after all he'd been through that her revelations hadn't pushed him over the edge, and that she wasn't going to find him hanging or with his throat cut. She began to panic, she'd been so concerned about herself, she hadn't given his welfare a second thought. She got up and winced at the pins and needles she felt in her back and legs.
Just as she opened the lounge door, her fears were allayed, she heard the toilet flush, and sighed with relief. She stood in the hallway and listened. She heard the bathroom door open; she went back into the lounge but remained at the door. She heard another door open and then close, she felt pretty sure he'd gone to bed. Philippa waited a further twenty minutes before going upstairs herself. She'd decided to risk his anger, she wanted to spend at least one last night with him, at least tonight would be for real. She wanted to prove to him that she'd meant what she said about loving him. It probably wasn't the bes
t idea she'd ever had, but if she was honest, she was past caring. For the first time since this whole nightmare had begun, she felt totally at ease with herself.
After she'd washed, she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her mind was a blank, here goes she thought, as she stepped out into the hallway and extinguished the bathroom light. She headed quietly towards Jack's bedroom, and opened the door onto darkness, Jack was in bed. Philippa got in beside him, she felt sure that he was still awake as she lay staring up at the ceiling. She turned and kissed his shoulder gently, Jack shrugged her off but said nothing. Philippa kissed him again, this time on the neck.
"Stop it." he said gruffly.
Philippa stopped; "I do love you Jack, I know I've done wrong, but I can't help the way I feel."
No reply.
"Make love to me Jack." Philippa said, almost to herself.
Jack obliged, but the sex was rough, and after it was over Philippa felt as though she'd been used. She lay awake whilst Jack slept like a baby. She was determined not to cry but the tears were becoming increasingly more difficult to stave off. He had never treated her that way before he'd discovered she was an escort; she couldn't remember ever feeling so low. Eventually, she fell into an uneasy sleep.
19
Philippa awoke to the sound of Jack moving around on the landing. She stretched and yawned before the previous evenings' events came crashing back into her mind giving her an instant low. She massaged her face before pulling the covers back and getting out of bed. She opened the bedroom door to find Jack crouched on the floor tying his shoelaces. He looked up at her somewhat guiltily, she thought.
Jack rose to his feet and approached her.
Philippa backed up slightly.
"I'm sorry about last night, in bed I mean." he said taking hold of her bear arms before stroking her hair with his good hand, "I was angry, upset, and confused. I do still love you, I know I shouldn't, after all that's gone on, but I do."
Philippa relaxed a little, and Jack kissed her forehead. They embraced, and Philippa rubbed the small of Jack's back. When they separated Philippa said, "Do you want to try again, this time for real?"
"I'm prepared to give it a go if you are, but we need to talk. I've got something on today that I can't cancel, otherwise we could've taken the day off together.”
Philippa smiled.
"I can't remember whether I told you last night, but no-one has ever made me feel the way you do."
"Yes, you did." Philippa said.
"And I believe you when you said you didn't realise what you were getting yourself into. Quilter's a crafty, manipulative bastard. Listen, I've got to go, will you be here when I get home?"
"Yes, I'll cook us something, seeing as you're out of action." she said looking at Jack's bandaged hand.
Jack smiled sheepishly before kissing her goodbye.
JACK’S END GAME.
1
A s Jack drove to work his mind raced, he would see Jenkins and Quilter in hell for what they'd done, but he had to stay calm and not rush headlong into the situation. He needed a plan, and he needed Philippa's help. He shook his head; he would never have guessed in a million years that she was an escort. He felt guilty about how he'd treated her the previous evening, he'd come close to cutting her throat for God's sake, and then there was the sex, he'd made her feel so cheap, and he hated himself for it. He took a deep breath. He did love her, more than he had ever loved any other woman in his life. He waited for the guilt to come, but it didn't, much to his relief. Those bastards were going down for what they'd done even if it meant sacrificing his own life in the process.
2
Two weeks later Philippa Marsh knocked on Dave Jenkins's door. She took a deep breath and composed herself, as she waited for him to answer.
The door opened, "Hi gorgeous, how are you?" Jenkins said with a smile.
"Hi, I'm fine thanks Dave, can I come in?"
"Of course, you can" Jenkins said ushering her into the house before quickly checking that no-one had seen her arrive. "Are you okay?" he asked her as she removed her coat.
"Yeah sure, well sort of."
"Go through." Jenkins said motioning towards the lounge, "Can I get you a coffee, or something stronger, perhaps?"
"No Thanks." Philippa said sitting down on the sofa and taking hold of one of its cool wooden armrests.
Jenkins joined her and sat down on one of the easy chairs, "There is something the matter, isn't there?" he said leaning forward and clasping his hands together.
Philippa sighed, "No, nothing's wrong Dave, but if I'm being totally honest, I could do with a break, just to recharge my batteries. I think that Spain thing took a lot more out of me than I thought it had."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, but we just had to use it. Quilt ... err David said you were more than capable of handling the situation though. He has every faith in you."
"I'm glad someone has." Philippa smiled.
"We both have the utmost faith in you Philippa, you’re playing a blinder for us."
"Thanks."
"He hasn't had second thoughts about Gerald being the one who leaked the Spain information, has he?" Jenkins asked with more than a hint of concern in his voice.
"No, if anything, the whole Spain incident has been a blessing in disguise. He's felt that bad about doubting my word in the first place, that now he goes out of his way to show me just how much he trusts me, the stupid sod."
Jenkins laughed, "You're a harsh woman Philippa"
"Oh Dave, he's an okay guy, but he's driving me mad, he's just so serious all the time, and the way he constantly gives me advice, it's like being shacked up with my old man."
Jenkins laughed again.
"I'm sorry Dave, I'm not whingeing - yes I am." she said balling her fists and raising her eyes to the sky. "I just need some decent company for a couple of days, I need to blow off a little steam, that's all." Philippa crossed her legs allowing the hem of her skirt to ride up a little. She was pretty sure that Jenkins had noticed it.
"Okay," he said, "where were you planning on going?"
Philippa shook her head and shrugged, “Barbados, Bermuda, Blackburn, I don't care. Just give me a break from that place Dave, after a few days, I'll be fine." Philippa primly pulled her hem down, after all she didn't want to overdo it.
"I suppose you could stay here for a while, that's as long as you want to, of course." Jenkins said tentatively.
Yes! Philippa thought, this was easier than taking candy from a baby, she hadn't even had to invent some ridiculous story why she just had to stay here with him. "I'm not bothered where I stay, I just need a break, that's all. Will you be able to square it for me with David though?”
Jenkins nodded, "David won't be a problem," he said with a smile, "you just leave him to me."
"God, I feel better already." Philippa sighed, "Thanks Dave, I really appreciate it."
"It's no problem whatsoever Philippa, having you here will be a pleasure, just like old times."
3
"Jack, I've got a Mr Mike Armstrong on the phone for you." Christine said.
"That name rings a bell, where did he say he was from?"
"He wouldn't say, but he did say that he knew Tom though?"
"Okay Chris, put him through."
“Jack Davies.”
"Mr Davies, I'm Mike Armstrong, an old associate of your brother-in-law Tom Ford. First of all, may I offer you my sincere condolences for the loss of Tom, and of course the rest of your family. It was such a tragic affair."
"Thanks for that Mr Armstrong."
"Please, call me Mike."
"Yeah, thanks Mike, it's almost a year since the crash now, but it seems like only yesterday. What can I do for you?"
"Well Jack, I don't know whether you were aware, but Tom and I used to do quite a bit of business together, I'm a surveyor for Fisher Developments."
"Of course, I thought I recognised your name."
"Yes; Tom and I had become good fr
iends over the years. He was the kind of chap who you could trust with your life."
Jack suddenly felt emotional. How stupid was that, he thought, this guy was only stating the truth, you could trust Tom with your life.
"Jack, are you still there?"
“Yes, sorry, carry on."
"We did many a deal back in the day, I must admit though we sailed pretty close to the wind, on more than one occasion."
Jack had to stifle a sniffle, "Well, Tom and I grew up together, and trust me Mike, Tom made an art form out of sailing pretty close to the wind."
Mike chuckled, "Yes, that was Tom's style for sure, but all the same you couldn't help loving him for it."
Jack was close to tears now, he stayed silent.
"Anyway, Jack I appreciate, you're a busy man, so I'll get to the point. Planning permission is about to be granted for a new leisure complex on the outskirts of Manchester. It's the old Limefield Dyeworks site at Miles Platting, I don't know whether you know it?"
"No, I don't."
"Well if I'm honest, pardon my French, it's a proper shit-hole, and I'm amazed planning's going through, but I, we have it on good authority that planning will be rubber stamped within the next few weeks, and when that happens, we; Fisher Developments will start building the new complex. It'll take a good eighteen months, to two years to complete, but I think you'd agree, there's nothing like getting in at the ground level."
"Of course, but if I'm honest Mike, this kind of thing falls within the remit of our operations division, but I'm sure we'd be interested in taking a closer look at the project."
"Well, can I speak candidly with you Jack."
"Of course, fire away."
"I'm not a fan of the two Dave's – Jenkins and Quilter."
Jack smiled; this guy was going up in his estimation by the minute. "Okay,” he said, “there's no reason why I couldn't deal with it personally, but I'll be candid with you Mike, I don't go into things blindly."
"Of course, Jack, and there's a multitude of options, you wouldn't have to buy the complex, in fact I'd recommend that you didn't, there's no need to take the risk. It's an old dyeworks and that means problems somewhere down the line, trust me. The powers that be at Fisher's think it's worth a punt though. It's got excellent transport links already, and there's talk of a new motorway being built nearby, but the cherry on the cake is that Fishers reckon, and they're no fools, that the catchment area's just about right. There's shed loads of people who are traveling from Miles Patting into Manchester every day; to work, eat, sleep and drink. We got the land for a song, it's just the clean-up and build costs we have to cover. There's going to be a nightclub, a swanky new restaurant, and a cinema, all state-of-the-art. From the Burnley Boys' perspective, let's just say it's got possibilities."
