“Really?”
“I wouldn’t have said so unless I meant it. Come on.”
Rory nodded, then followed Jenkins to his car. He placed his files and folders on the backseat, then got into the front. Rory hesitated for a moment, then climbed into the passenger seat.
“So, you know who I am … who are you?”
Rory flexed his aching hands. “Rory Price—No, that’s not right. Rory Matterson.”
“You changed names pretty quick just then…”
“I was in the prison.”
Jenkins dropped his gaze to Rory’s knuckles, then glanced back up. “Have you escaped?”
“They’ve let me go. I was undercover.”
“I see, and now you’re feeling lost, unsure what to do next?”
Rory bobbed his head. “I don’t feel like myself anymore. I don’t feel like anything, I’m numb, and I have no idea how to make myself feel again.”
Jenkins whistled. “Well, that’s more than one session right there.”
Rory laughed at his lap. “Tell me about it…”
“Okay, I will. I don’t know what happened inside, but you can’t be around people and not start to care, start to identify, to adapt. Now you’re out, you’ve lost your identity, the person you were before has gone and you don’t know how to get back to what you were.”
“So how do I do it?”
“Unless you have a time machine, you can’t.”
“Damn it.”
Jenkins chuckled, and twitched his nose. “So you can’t go back, but what did you like about yourself before you went inside?”
“I wanted to do the right thing. I wanted to be a good person. A good police officer.”
“And you feel like you’re not?”
“I hurt people, and I hurt myself.” Rory frowned down at his hands. “I don’t mean physically. I wish it was all physical. Physical pain gets better, it softens, or you get used to it, and it’s not as intense, but the feeling in my chest. The loss, the guilt, the shame. I let down everyone I cared about, and now I’m on my own, and it hurts.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
Rory spluttered. “You’re supposed to tell me.”
“I can’t stop it hurting. Only you can.”
“How?”
“Do you still want to do the right thing? Do you still want to be a good person?”
“Yeah, of course, but I don’t see how I can.”
“You could try making it up to all the people you feel like you let down.”
Rory frowned, then glanced up at Jenkins. He blinked in quick succession, then kept staring.
“You’re freaking me out now…”
“Captain—Benjamin Tracy.”
Jenkins looked away. “What about him?”
“Did you get his letter?”
“I got it.”
Rory shuffled forward on his seat. “Do you forgive him?”
“There was nothing to forgive.”
“But you shut him down, said you didn’t want to see him again. He scared you.”
Jenkins bit his lip and closed his eyes. “I’m not gonna lie, it was terrifying when he started shouting—”
“I swear he’s not like that. He looked out for me when I was inside. He’s one of the people I’ve let down. He’s suffering, and he needs someone to talk to. Please—”
Jenkins raised his hand. “Stop, stop, stop, let me finish.”
“Sorry…”
“I was terrified, but more than my own fear, I was scared for him. Scared I wouldn’t be able to help him. I’m twenty-six, I live in the countryside, I’ve never seen a dead body, never been in a fist fight, let alone a fire-fight. I ride horses and collect stamps,”
“Stamps?”
“Exactly. I’m a psychiatrist, and for most of the inmates in here, I know enough, can help them cope with being inside, or the crime they’ve committed, or any troubles that plague them, but Benjamin… He was right, I don’t have a clue what he’s been through, or what it was like, or how to help him. I’m worried I’ll let him down.”
“So your solution is not to see him at all, not to try?”
“It’s the best I could come up with.”
“You could help. You might be able to sort through the mess of his head. Unburden him.”
Jenkins reached for the glove compartment, and Rory shifted his knees out the way. He opened it up and retrieved a folded piece of paper.
“He apologized for scaring me, but it should be me apologizing for being a coward.”
Jenkins unfolded the paper. “There’s so much self-hatred, and self-loathing in this letter. I can practically feel the despair when I read it, and I want to help, but if I mess it up, I could make it worse. I’m not an idiot, I know inmates smuggle in alcohol, and he’s an addict. He could start drinking again if I push.”
Rory scrunched up his face. “He’s already done that once—”
“What?”
“After you wouldn’t see him.”
Jenkins pressed the letter to his face. “God … that wasn’t my intention.”
“He stopped, but he’s still taking anti-anxiety medication, and sleeping tablets, and whatever else that doctor put him on.”
“Throw pills at a problem and hope it’ll go away. I can’t stand doctors like that…”
“Please, will you see Cap—Benjamin, even if its once, just to say you accept his apology, or to explain why you don’t think you’ll be able to help.”
Jenkins sighed, then nodded. “Okay … I’ll see if I can arrange an appointment with him tomorrow.”
Rory pressed his hands together. “Thank you.”
“Now, where am I taking you?”
Jenkins stuck the keys into the ignition, but didn’t start the car.
“My flat, it’s just outside the city, if that’s okay?”
“I can’t leave you moping outside the prison gate like a lost puppy, can I?”
“No, not when I’ve got making up to do…”
****
Rory peered out the window at Ollie’s aunt and uncle’s house. As soon as he’d gotten back to his flat, he scanned through his file on Oliver Linton and found their address. He called a cab and drummed his fingers on his knees for the entire two-hour journey.
That was as far as his planning went. He had no idea what he was going to say.
The driver spoke over his shoulder. “You getting out or what?”
“Yeah… You’ll wait?”
“As long as I get paid for the time.”
“Of course.”
The driver leaned back his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Take as long as you want then.”
The door opened on Ollie’s aunt, she scrunched her eyes at him, then called for her husband. He appeared in the doorway ten seconds later.
“Maggie and Asher Linton.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m police officer Rory Matterson, I’m here about Oliver…”
Maggie slapped her hand over her mouth. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing, he’s fine.” Rory paused, then shook his head. “He’s not fine. He’s going mad not knowing how Leo is. His letters go unanswered, and he hasn’t had a single visitor since he’s been inside.”
Maggie dropped her hand from her mouth, then glared at Asher. “I told you we should’ve visited.”
“We’re just about getting Leo settled. Seeing Oliver will tip him over the edge.”
“You can’t cut Ollie out like that. He loves his brother.”
“We’re Leo’s guardians, he needs permission to go visit his brother in prison, and I won’t allow it.”
“Why not?”
“Leo’s barely spoken, he’s finally coming out of his shell. He doesn’t want to see Oliver.”
“Has he said that?”
“No, he doesn’t speak about him.”
“Ollie needs support in there.”
Asher shook his head. “He murder
ed his dad, my brother.”
“That man was abusive.” Rory murmured.
Asher lowered his gaze. “I know he could be hot-headed, he had a temper, and he used his fists more than he should’ve.”
“He hit them. He hurt them. He made their lives miserable. All Ollie wanted was for Leo to be safe. I don’t agree with murder, but he was trapped, and scared, and he didn’t know what else to do.”
“When Leo’s eighteen, he can decide for himself.”
“At least let him write. He watches that mail cart pass by every day, always waiting. Why don’t you reply?”
“He’s got to accept what he’s done, and he hasn’t. He showed no remorse, no guilt, and until he does, I don’t want to see him.”
“So you’re punishing him?” Rory turned his attention to Maggie. “He’s eighteen, he’s a kid, and he needs you.”
“What are you shouting about?”
Rory took a step back at the sound of the voice, so similar to Ollie’s, only slightly croakier, as if his voice was breaking.
“Police officer Matterson was just leaving.”
“Police officer?”
Asher was shoved aside, and Rory took another step back when he saw Leo. He had the same blond messy hair, and huge brown eyes, and the dimple in his chin. He looked like Ollie, but before puberty had matured him.
“My brother, is he okay?”
“No,” Rory blurted, struck by Leo’s similar expressions. “He misses you like crazy.”
Leo’s eyes filled with tears. “I miss him, too.”
“You’ve barely mentioned him.” Asher grumbled.
“I feel like I can’t talk about him, or what happened.”
“Exactly Ollie will tip you over the edge.”
“That’s not what I meant. When I talk about him you shut me down, you change the subject, you have this hateful expression on your face, but I want to talk about him, I want to see him.”
“When you’re eighteen.”
Leo turned back to Rory. “How come he’s not writing to me? He said he would when he got taken down, he promised.”
Rory gawped, then looked at Asher.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Leo snapped. “Has he written to me?”
“He may have written a letter or two.” Asher mumbled.
Rory shook his head. “He’s written to you every week for the past nine months.”
“What?”
“He wants to tell you he’s sorry, and that he loves you, and I don’t know what else he puts in the letters, but he sends them with such hope in his face.”
Leo heaved, and he brushed away the tears on his cheeks. “Where are these letters?”
“We thought it was for the best.” Asher murmured. “You can have a fresh start here.”
“I don’t want a fresh start if he’s not in it. I’m not gonna cut my brother out.”
“He’s in prison for a long time.”
“I don’t care. I need him.”
“And he needs you.” Rory finished.
“Let me see him…”
“No. You’re under eighteen, you need our consent.”
“You can stop me seeing him, but you can’t stop me writing to him.” He turned to Rory. “Right? They can’t stop me from writing to him?”
“No, they can’t.”
“Have you got his letters?”
Maggie shook her head. “I kept them for when you turned eighteen.”
“Have you opened them?”
“No.”
“Please let me have them, please,” Leo put his hands together and full on begged. “Please and let me write to him.”
Maggie gazed at Leo then nodded. Asher glared at her, but she threw her hands up in the air and hissed, “They’re your nephews. They’ve got no one else.”
Leo bolted back into the house, and Maggie went after him.
Asher shook his head. “Ollie has always been a problem child. At school, and at home. He’s not good.”
“No, he’s not good, he’s great. Clever, and kind, and fun and fucking amazing at art. He’s gone through more shit than I can imagine, and if I have to drive here every week to get a letter from Leo and deliver it personally to that prison, I will.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“Yeah, I do, and I was so lucky to know him, and Leo is lucky to have him as a brother.”
The door was slammed on his face, and he expected the clunk of a lock, but there was only silence.
Rory prayed he’d done enough.
Chapter Twenty
Rory took a deep breath, then climbed out of the car. He leaned against the back of it, with his eyes fixed on reception. He checked his watch for the fortieth time, then looked back at the door.
He’d spent the past few days in a blur, barely eating, barely sleeping. He knew he had to phone the hospital, arrange for Erica to be released to him so he could start funeral plans, and put her to rest, but he couldn’t do it. He typed the number in, put the phone to his ear, then hastily hung up when the call connected, but it didn’t matter. Once Sebastian was done with him, he’d be joining his sister, and his dad, and his mum.
The door opened and he straightened against the car.
Sebastian stepped out, not wearing his tight white t-shirt, but a shirt, and a jacket. A clear plastic bag of his belongings was slung over his shoulder, and as he walked further into the car park, he tilted his head up, and he looked towards the sky.
Rory saw his lips lift in a slight smile, then he lowered his head, and the smile vanished. He came closer, and Rory couldn’t look at him. He looked down at the ground and rolled the stray stones with his shoe.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be here,” Sebastian murmured.
“I owe it to you.”
“Look at me.”
Rory forced his head up but couldn’t look Sebastian in the eyes.
Sebastian gestured to the car. “Yours?”
“It’s a hired car.”
“Ready to go?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Rory said.
Sebastian snorted. “I’m very ready.” He walked over to the passenger door, then raised his eyebrow at Rory. “Well?”
Rory unlocked the car, then climbed inside. “Where do you want me to drive?”
“Can you … can you drive through the city.”
“Sure.”
Sebastian bobbed his head, then flung his bag of belongings into the back.
“I’m really sorry—”
Sebastian raised his finger in the air, then made a shushing sound. “Not here. Not yet.”
Rory swallowed, then bobbed his head. If Sebastian wanted to pretend they were anything but normal for a few minutes, Rory wasn’t gonna stop him.
“Okay…”
The drive was surreal, he had been expecting Sebastian to growl at him, launch at him, strangle him to death right there and then in the prison car park, but instead he lounged back in the seat, and lowered his window.
He stuck his hand out and twitched his fingers as the air rushed by him.
Rory drove through the city with no destination in mind. He passed the cinema, the train station, the clubs, the pubs—there was nothing of interest, but Sebastian was transfixed. He craned his neck to see the highest buildings and snorted at the names of restaurants.
“It’s amazing what changes.” Sebastian mumbled.
“It’s been sixteen years.”
“The same roads, and street names, but everything on them different. It’s like an alien planet. I mean what the hell is Oodles?”
“It’s a sushi chain. Quite popular.”
“And that place?”
Rory glanced at the building, and the line outside. “Flip Over?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s a load of trampolines. You go there and you jump around.” Rory scrunched his face at his explanation, it didn’t do the place justice.
“You’ve been there?”
“Yea
h. With my…” Rory trailed off, then shook his head. He couldn’t go there, it hurt too much. “I’ve been there before.”
“What happened to having a trampoline in the back yard? And all this 3D rubbish on the movie posters.”
“There was 3d movies before you went inside, surely?”
“With the cardboard glasses, one side red, one side blue.”
A laugh bubbled up from Rory’s chest. “No, not like that.”
“Then what, does someone jump out the screen and punch you in the face?”
Rory laughed. “No, it looks slightly better, like stands out a bit. Virtual reality headsets will blow your mind.”
“What are they?”
“Games—”
“I’m too old for your console games. Cards, that’s what I’m good at.”
“Because you cheat.”
“You still bitter about me winning all your phone cards?”
“You didn’t win, you cheated.”
“Still won.”
“It didn’t count.”
“What about you pretending you weren’t a chess genius?”
“That’s not cheating, that’s withholding the truth.”
Sebastian laughed, and shook his head.
He sighed at the window. “I can walk down this street. I can go in these shops. Sixteen years I’ve been in that prison, and now I’m out.”
“It must be a good feeling.”
“Yes, and at the same time a massive no.”
“Why no?”
“I’ll have to cook my own meals for a start.”
Rory’s lips tingled with another smile. “The food in there was awful.”
“It got better over the years, trust me. When I first went inside, food poisoning was a monthly occurrence.”
“The food improved, but the rat problem got worse?”
Sebastian tipped his head back and laughed. “The rat problem will continue.”
“You passed that scam onto someone else?”
“Teddy. You never know, he might even smuggle maggots into the prison, inside a fake dead rat…” Sebastian chuckled, “I still can’t believe you were gonna open up a dead rat.”
“It was for Ollie.”
“It’s still disgusting.”
“When you ripped it open, I thought I’d gone mad.”
“You’d gone mad long before I did that.”
Rory peeked a look at Sebastian, and his chest felt all fluttery when he saw he was smiling. His heart wasn’t supposed to feel like that, it was supposed to have been dead of all feeling.
The Rat Page 17
