by Jane Bidder
So much had changed since then. They didn’t have a home of their own. She was stronger and more independent. And she and Ben were getting on just fine. Supposing he and Simon began scrapping again?
A small part of her began to wonder if, in fact, she and Ben might be better off on their own. No. That was selfish. She had to give them a chance.
Talk about everything coming at once! The day after Simon’s phone call, she saw Ben off to school as usual with his packed lunch (apparently the canteen food was ‘rife’) and went upstairs to knock on Max’s study door. Surprisingly, he invited her in with a flourishing welcoming hand gesture.
Claire looked around curiously. Every spare inch of wall was covered by books. His desk was a mass of papers and pencils – not pens – and there was a pile of books bearing foreign titles on the floor by his chair.
‘My books in translation,’ he said dismissively. ‘Sit down, my dear. Sit down. I was going to call you up anyway so it’s fortuitous that you are here. My agent loves my script. He quite liked your drawings too although he did suggest that he brought in another artist as well … no, don’t worry. I told him this was your idea and that it wouldn’t be fair. So he’s spoken to a couple of his publisher chums and one of them has come up with a deal. Take a look at this!’
With another flourish, he handed Claire an email print out. Stunned, she read the offer. The publisher –an up-and-coming indie – was offering them both a substantial amount of money for the rights to print the book. ‘I’ll need to run it past my agent too,’ she said, feeling stunned.
‘Really?’ Max raised his eyebrows. ‘Why not just use mine?’
‘I can’t. It’s not done like that.’
Max made a reluctant face. ‘My goodness, you do play by the rules, don’t you. Still, I understand that after your husband’s experience.’
Her lips tightened. This was one subject which she and Max had never discussed, although she knew that Jean had informed her brother of their background. ‘Talking of which,’ said Claire tightly. ‘My husband is being released next month so we will be handing in our notice.’
Max’s eyebrows fell. ‘So soon! That’s extremely inconvenient, I must say. When I first took you on, it was on the understanding that it would be more long-term. We’ve only just got this place shipshape.’
‘We?’ Claire thought of the time she’d spent sorting out the kitchen and the rest of the house, making sure that there were regular meals, and still do her own work as well as keeping an eye on Ben. The man was so selfish!
‘I had thought that you would be pleased for us,’ she said stiffly.
‘My dear girl, of course I am.’ Despite the fact that there wasn’t a vast age difference between them, Max always called her ‘girl’. ‘It’s merely that it’s a surprise that is all. I would offer to have your husband here as a tenant too but to be honest, since he has a record …’
His voice tailed away. ‘Thank you.’ Immediately Claire wished she hadn’t said that. ‘I’m going to look for somewhere else to rent.’
‘Nearby?’
‘Probably, because of Ben’s school. Now he’s settled in, I don’t want to move him again.’
The eyebrows raised. ‘Settled in? Is that what you call sitting in the park all day with his laptop?’
‘What did you say?’
‘Oh dear, now I’ve probably dropped the young lad in it.’ Max didn’t look sorry. He was grinning. ‘I think you’ll find, my dear girl, that your boy hasn’t been going to class for a very long time.’
Why hadn’t school told her? ‘We wrote to you, twice,’ said the receptionist sharply. So she’d asked them to check the address and it turned out that it had gone to another family. Same surname but a different street.
‘In fact, we were about to send someone round to visit you,’ added the receptionist. ‘Has your son told you why he absconded?’
The same term that Simon had used when talking about one of the men in his hut who went out for a town visit and didn’t come back. ‘No,’ said Claire grimly. ‘But he will.’
She waited until he came back as usual. 4.30 on the dot. ‘How was school?’ she asked.
Ben nodded. ‘It was cool. We had double science and I got 70 per cent in my English so …’
‘Sit down.’ She gestured towards the bottom of the stairs. Slasher was furiously licking him at the same time as though in protection. ‘You haven’t been for weeks. No, don’t deny it. What have you been doing?’
Ben looked away. ‘Sitting in the park.’
So Max had been right.
‘Why?’
Ben turned furiously towards her. ‘Because if I hadn’t defended myself on that first day, I’d have got beaten up. After that, all these other kids kept coming up to me and saying I’d be for it now because I’d hit some boy who had a lot of friends and I was scared.‘ His face crumpled. ‘’Sides, I hate it here. It’s too big and noisy and everyone goes around in groups apart from me.’
He flung himself against her and Claire wrapped her arms protectively around him. Slasher began to lick them both furiously. Just as well that Max was out or the noise would have disturbed him. That was one thing, thought Claire, that they wouldn’t have to worry about when they had a home of their own.
‘It’s all right,’ she said soothingly. ‘We’re going to move anyway. We’ll find somewhere else to live.’ She paused, wondering whether to tell him. ‘Simon’s coming out next month.’
Ben lifted his face. ‘Really?’
She couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not.
‘Is that OK?’
He nodded. ‘If it makes you happy, I suppose.’
Her heart caved. He was getting so grown up.
‘I’ll have to find you some work to do at home,’ she said. ‘Your exams are so close now …’
‘It’s OK.’ Ben cut in. ‘What do you think I’ve been doing on my computer all day in the park? Poring over practice papers online that’s what. Poppy’s been emailing me some of her notes from school as well as doing some revision with me at the weekends at Dad’s.’ His face shone. ‘I’ll probably do better than I would have done here!’
* * *
Of course she had to speak to Charlie. ‘Why didn’t you know Ben was skipping school?’ he’d demanded on the phone.
Exactly what she’d been asking herself. ‘He went off to school every day with his bag. At that age, you don’t take them to the school gates.’
You would have known that, she’d wanted to add, if you’d been at home when he’d moved to secondary school.
‘I can’t believe the school sent letters to a wrong address!’
‘It’s a big place,’ she replied defensively. Didn’t he believe her?
‘And now you’re going to find somewhere else to run to now that your husband is being released?’
Your husband was said in a slightly mocking way.
‘Yes.’ Claire forced herself to sound positive.
‘You know,’ he added in a softer voice, ‘I’ve really enjoyed my weekends with Ben. I’m beginning to realise how much I missed out when I was abroad.’
‘Yes, you did.’ An alarm fluttered in Claire’s chest. What was he leading up to?
‘I made a mistake, Claire, all those years ago with that woman.’ He said that woman in a voice that suggested it was all her fault and not his. ‘I’ve changed now and so have you. I’m impressed, Claire, at how strong you’ve been through this difficult time.’
‘Charlie, what are you trying to say?’
‘It’s not too late, Claire.’ He spoke with an urgent softness. ‘It’s not too late for us to start again.’
It would never work! She’d told him so immediately, pointing out that she was married and that he had a girlfriend (something he didn’t deny) and that it was impossible to go back. She’d also promised that if Ben was happy to do so, he could continue to see him at weekends and then, after that, she’d forced herself to get out a map of outer Londo
n and work out where they should rent.
The suburbs would be better, she’d decided. It would be more anonymous than Devon even though she longed to go back. There were times when she woke up in the morning, dreaming she could hear seagulls. Maybe one day, when all this had become the past. But not now.
The following week passed in a blur of activity. The task of finding a rented house inevitably fell to her since Simon wasn’t in a position to do anything in prison. In the end, the solution came when walking Slasher in the park and bumping into Labrador man. ‘Haven’t seen you for a while,’ he said. So she explained that she and her son were moving again, now her husband was coming home.
‘Been working away, has he?’
She nodded.
You ought to look at that new city theyʼve just built, if you want to rent somewhere cheap. My brother moved out last year. Loves it, he does, and there are plenty of spaces for the dog to run around if you pick the right spot.’
She’d heard of it of course but only in terms of it being a vast concrete sprawl. Now, as she thought about it, that seemed a perfect place to hide away and start all over again.
‘Sounds good to me,’ said Alex when he’d rung during one of his regular phone calls to make sure she was all right. She’d give him that. He’d kept up with her, unlike Rosemarie. ‘Has Simon any idea what he’s going to do?’
‘No. There’s something called Job Club apparently at the prison which tries to help people get jobs when they get out.’
‘I don’t envy them.’
The implication that employers wouldn’t want to take on criminals irked her. ‘They’re not all murderers, you know.’
‘I didn’t mean that, Claire. I’m sorry. It can’t be easy. Let me have a bit of a sniff around and I’ll see if I can find something for him. The new city, you say. I know a lawyer there, funnily enough. Simon isn’t allowed to practise of course but there might just be something he could do.’
It was almost sorted. She’d driven out to MK, as everyone seemed to call it, and drawn up a shortlist of UPVC-windowed houses which they could afford to rent within a short walking distance of the centre. She and Ben had also found a sixth form college which had offered him a place if he got the right GCSE grades.
Simon had been ringing every night sounding chirpier by the minute. He was sorting his paperwork out, he said, in the same kind of rushed voice he had used when working.
And then her agent rang. ‘This deal, which your landlord has got for you,’ he began. ‘I suggest you think very carefully about it.’
‘Why? ’
‘The advance money is a reasonable amount but if you read the small print, you’ll see your landlord has the right to all the royalties. This book was your idea, Claire. Not his. I reckon he’s taking you for a ride.’
She marched up to Max’s office immediately, flinging his door open without even knocking. He glanced up startled from his computer.
‘You were going to cut me out of the royalties,’ she hissed.
Max’s face immediately turned from irritation at being disturbed to conciliation. ‘My dear girl, the words are mine so it’s only fair …’
‘No.’ She stood there waving her part of the contract in front of him. ‘It was my idea in the first place so I want seventy-five per cent and you can have twenty-five. Otherwise, I’m not signing.’
She made to rip up the paper but Max stood up. He wasn’t wearing any shoes and seemed much smaller than usual in his striped socks. ‘How about fifty per cent?’
‘Thirty.’
‘Very well then, you drive a hard bargain but I will concur. Now if you don’t mind, Claire, I’m in the middle of writing something and I don’t care to be interrupted. By the way, I have a new tenant moving in next week so I would appreciate it if you could leave everything in the way in which you found it.’
‘Mould and all then?’
Max smiled weakly. ‘Touché.’
Truth be told, she’d mentally prepared herself to go for fifty per cent but now she had done even better. Her agent had wanted to negotiate for her but she’d been determined to sort this one out. Now she had won. It was a good feeling. It made her feel powerful. In charge. That way, no one was going to hurt her again.
‘We’re moving again,’ Ben said into Poppy’s naked shoulder. She stirred sleepily. They’d been just lying there all evening while Dad was out again and he’d been waiting for the right time to tell her.
‘To that new city theyʼve just built outside London.’
Poppy snuggled into his shoulder. ‘I’ve heard of that. It’s won all these awards for weird architecture.’
‘I’ll be going to a sixth form college.’ Saying the words didn’t make it feel any more real.
‘Wish I could. Ouch.’
‘Sorry.’ He’d touched by mistake a new bruise on her arm. ‘If I tell Mum about your father, she might be able to do something.’
‘No.’ Poppy sat up straight, the duvet covering her naked breasts. ‘I told you. I can’t. He can’t help it. He just loses his temper. If I tell on him, I don’t know how he’d cope.’
‘OK, if you say so.’
Poppy took his hand and moved it to a place he hadn’t been to before. ‘What time did you say your dad was going to be back?’
Ben could hardly speak. ‘He didn’t.’
Chapter Forty-five
It was all happening at once. The letter from Lydia. Claire’s news that she’d found somewhere for them to rent where no one would know them and where there was a decent sixth-form college for Ben. Not to mention the small matter of him being released.
‘I’d have thought you’d have been glad,’ chided Joanna. ‘ Speaking personally, I can’t wait to be out of this place.’
Of course he was glad. Yet at the same time, he felt scared, just as he used to at the end of term at school when they’d heaved the trunks out of the basement and begun hunting for rugby boots and lost pullovers so matron could tick them off against the list. (He’d once tried to explain this to Claire but she’d gone to a day school in London and been unable to fully understand.)
‘It’s amazing, man!’ enthused Spencer, his voice laden with envy. ‘Me, I got another one month, three weeks, two days.’
‘It will go faster than you think,’ said Simon, silently reproaching himself for the lie.
‘Yeah, man but who’s gonna help me with my reading like?’
He’d already sorted that out, he hoped, partly out of fear that without someone to keep this new interest alive, Spencer might fall into the company of some of the new boys who hung around in groups muttering sullenly. Friendship groups, he’d learned, could make the difference between staying out of this place and coming back in again. ‘Jason’s going to help you.’
‘That geezer with the big head?’
Simon had to laugh. Jason, who had come in last month, did indeed have a head which was shaped like a rugby ball. He also had an inextinguishable air of optimism even though he’d just been sentenced to three years for fraud. Jason made no secret of the fact that before that he had been a keen player in a financial institution covering Hong Kong and the States.
He had, however, been happy to take on reading duty for Spencer and Mark at the library was also going to keep a watchful eye on him. Somehow, Simon couldn’t help feeling responsible for the boy.
‘I know what you mean,’ tinkled Joanna. ‘There but for the grace of and all that …’
‘Are you going to stop when I get out?’ he demanded.
‘You talking out loud again?’ Spencer shook his head. ‘Better cut that out when you get back, man or your missus will get you locked up again.’ He got up off the bed from where he’d been watching Simon pack up his stuff. ‘Come on, you’ve got to get goin’ with your paperchase. I’ll help you.’ He grinned, exposing drug stains on his teeth. ‘Done it enough times myself, I have.’
Simon already knew that the ‘paperchase’ was something that everyone did the week be
fore they were released. It involved rushing round from ‘department’ to ‘department’ getting signed off. In his case, this meant going to the library where he had been an orderly; the Job Club where they had organised work in the charity shop (something he rather missed actually); to the kitchens and the stores where he’d also worked, and so on.
It sounded easy but in practice it was a nightmare because the right person was never there. ‘That’s wot it’s like in prison, man,’ shrugged Spencer. ‘Communication’s shit, like. People say they’ll be there or do something and they don’t. It would be a lot easier if they let us have mobiles in here.’
The very word sent tremors down Simon’s spine. When he got out, he’d already decided, he wouldn’t have one. He wouldn’t drive again either after his ban was up.
‘No mobiles and no driving?’ tittered Joanna. ‘Goodness me, life’s going to be different for us, isn’t it? ’
The Job Club was next. When he’d first come across it, Simon had thought the title seemed at odds with the environment but since being in here, he’d been deeply impressed at how the three women and one man inside worked like beavers to persuade employers on the outside to give a temporary or permanent position to men who had a record. Most of the jobs on offer involved driving or working in bars or hotels. All of these had been suggested to him.
‘Got something lined up yet?’ now asked one of the girls who clearly had a bit of a soft spot for him.
He shook his head. ‘Not much call for bent solicitors.’ He tried to make light of it, as though it didn’t matter but the girl wasn’t fooled. ‘Don’t rule out the hospitality business,’ she said, signing off the relevant document in his paperchase. ‘Might be a start, don’t you think?’
The chapel was the last but one on his list. It was housed, slightly incongruously, at the back of the IDU building where the drug counsellors worked. When he’d first found it, all those months ago, he’d been astounded to find the staircase leading up into a room containing a beautiful stained glass window and about five rows of chairs before an altar.
‘Told you we should have come here more regularly,’ chided Joanna.
