I remembered Harry singing. She sang like violins.
I smoked half a joint in bed. I lay there and my whole body twinkled. Like my nerve endings were stars and I was the universe. I thought man, there’s got to be a creator. There has to be one.
I started to smoke the rest but the paranoia was on me suddenly like a huge Rotweiller. It was fucking huge. It’s not the drugs that don’t work it’s the people that don’t work. You only take out what you take in.
That’s what Pill always says. And he’s never had a bad drug experience.
My thoughts came back to me and my sins. Yes. I felt dirty. Harry could be mine but for that to happen I had to wish that Joe would go away.
I thought disjointed thoughts.
*
Archaeology, for example, featured heavily. It is a great idea – we shouldn’t have to do it, though. Prisoners should have to dig. Why is it your punishment for anti-social behaviour is to sit around and do nothing? What kind of punishment is that? Instead of punishing the criminals society punishes itself. Doh.
Not really about archaeology at all. It started off in the right direction, but I took a couple of mental u-turns and ended up at: I feel like I should be punished.
*
I think Reb looked in on me in the night, but I slept well despite my guilt, my complicity in events.
*
Thursday
19. Foreplay
I got up at six. I’d had some sleep. My back felt better for sleeping in a bed and I wasn’t all bleary-eyed as I usually am in the mornings. My head was fair singing with smartness. I was going to have a good day today. I was going to make a difference.
I did my ablutions before going upstairs into the kitchen and putting on some coffee. I emptied the tea bag tub, which looked like a burial mound for a tiny king of tea. Pill and Reb were still sleeping when I came out of the kitchen, Reb hunched up like a baby on the floor and Pill sprawled out on the couch. Pill snored softly.
Coffee makes my head work faster in the mornings. It’s about the only thing that gets me going. It also makes me want to have a poo.
I stood in the kitchen with the door closed. I smoked a cigarette while I waited. I decided I’d feel bad about waking them without a breakfast so I whisked some eggs in a bowl with a fork and put some toast under the grill. I had to light it with a match, as the ignition switch on my cooker didn’t work. The hair on the back of my hand was already gone so I didn’t have to worry when the whump of the gas igniting sounded.
I stuck the eggs in the microwave and two minutes later I had runny scrambled eggs on toast ready for three. I carried the plates into the front room and put them down loudly among the mess of the night before. Pill awoke with a start. His last snort woke Reb. They both looked at me as if I’d gone mad.
“What time is it?”
“A little after six.”
“Well what are we doing up then?” moaned Pill.
“Well, you boys have got to go to work today and I’ve got work to do.”
“What work? The girl told us nothing and we’ve got nothing else to go on.”
“I’m going to call Tracey’s parents today. I want to phone Johnny and find out what’s going on with Joe. I think they’re barking up the wrong tree. Joe didn’t do it. I know he didn’t do it.”
Reb looked at me funny.
“How can you be sure? It sounds like even Joe didn’t know.”
“Because Joe doesn’t know what he’s done and what he hasn’t done. He’s in the wrong place mentally to be figuring things out. The note doesn’t gel but it was a possibility. That’s not the key though. It’s the ring. It said ‘evermore my love’. There’s no way Joe would tell anyone he loved them. I can’t have been Joe.”
“There’s so much about him that you don’t know. And besides, you can’t tell the police about the ring. That’s not going to get him off the hook.”
“I know. That’s why I have to work today.” I almost didn’t want to get Joe off the hook. Things with Harry would be easier. But I thought I could do it. I had a plan. I finally had an idea what Tracey was doing with Mary that night. I thought I knew where her three hours had been spent. It all made sense. I knew. I could smell it on Mary when I’d talked to her but I hadn’t twigged until this morning.
“You’d better have your breakfast. Then I’m kicking you both out.”
They sat up and ate begrudgingly.
*
At seven o’clock, free for the day, I made my first phone call.
Johnny wasn’t in but Harvey in.
“Morning, Harvey,” I said.
“Morning, Jake. Didn’t expect to hear you voice so early in the morning. Thought you were a night owl.”
“I’ve been having thoughts.”
“Oh-o. That sounds dangerous.”
“Yeah, I think I need to clear Joe’s name. I can help.”
“I’m sorry Jake, don’t you know?”
“Know what?”
“Joe was committed last night. He tried to kill himself.”
I was shocked into silence. Things weren’t going as planned.
“Is he alright?”
“Yeah, he smashed his head against the wall in his cell. He knocked himself out before he could do any real damage. To be honest I think he would have been committed anyway. You should have heard some of the things he was rambling about. The police were bugging him, he said. He even thought we’d put bugs in the birds to watch over him. Like we’ve got that kind of manpower. I’m sorry Jake, but your friend’s plum cuckoo.”
Joe had finally done it. He’d gone over to the other side.
I’d always wondered how people manage to kill themselves in a jail cell. It must be pretty difficult if you haven’t got your shoelaces. I wondered how you managed to hang yourself with shoelaces. Surely they’d just snap under the weight? Perhaps you were supposed to swallow them and choke to death.
“He smashed his head against a wall? He must be in a bad way.”
“Yeah, we figure it’s remorse for what he’s done.”
“He didn’t do it, Harvey.”
“That’s not the way I see it.”
“I can prove it. You need to talk to a girl called Mary Hunford. Works down the wharf at nights.”
“Doesn’t sound like your kind of girl, Jake.”
“She’s not, but she knows where Tracey was for three hours.”
“Our investigation is closed. We’re not looking for anyone else.”
“But you don’t know where she was for three hours!”
“Doesn’t matter. We’ve got her killer.”
“Harvey, you haven’t got her killer.”
“Face facts Jake, Joe did it.”
I could be the one beating my head against a brick wall for all the impact I was having. I’d have to find the evidence myself. I’d have to talk to Mary Hunford again.
“I’ll find the evidence to clear him. I know the girl knows something about the crime. I’m going to talk to her again. Will you at least listen to what she’s got to say?”
“Look, if you can find something solid, I’ll be all ears, but you’re not giving me a viable alternative. Even if you find something, Joe’s still been committed.”
“I’ll find it. I will,” I said and hung up.
*
I spent some time thinking about what I thought I knew. I bet was betting on Mary and Tracey being closer than either would have admitted to.
I counted the money in my pocket. It didn’t amount to much but maybe it would be enough to make Mary talk.
I wished then I had some money. I always thought it’d be a good way to make money, if you’re ever caught on camera, to say ‘I don’t want to be on your film’ – it’d have to be something good though, you know, like JFK getting shot or something, and make them pay you. But then, say no, I am not giving you the right to show the film with me in it and write a book about it…or something like that. It’s probably not the best plan but it�
��s the only one I’ve got. I hardly ever go anywhere likely to have life-changing effects and I’m guessing if a film’s in the public interest you can’t moan about being on it anyway. Come to think of it it’s a stupid idea. I don’t know why I brought it up now.
I wondered about Joe. I wished he was free and everything was normal. At least, I think I wished him free. I didn’t think if I ever got together with Harry that Joe would talk to me again, but it wasn’t fair if he was going to be charged with a murder he didn’t commit. I didn’t want a relationship with Harry to start under those kind of terms.
My daydreams were next to useless though. Things were going to go badly no matter what I did. I had to stop dreaming, like me getting together with Harry was at the end of the rainbow. I didn’t even know how she felt about me.
Somewhere over the rainbow is probably a great place to be until you realise you can’t fly.
*
I was about to phone the parents when the doorbell rang. I got up off the couch and went down to get it. I could see it was Harry through the glass of the door before I opened it. My heart skipped a beat.
“Harry,” I said as I opened the door. “Come in.”
She stepped over the threshold. Touched my hand as she came in. She was wearing high heels today. Same tight jeans. I followed her up the stairs, my eyes glued to her bum as she walked. She walked sideways on, so the heel of her shoes didn’t hang over the edge of the stairs and send her plummeting back to the bottom. I don’t know why she was worried. I’d catch her if she fell.
I don’t know why women wear high-heeled shoes. I guess they make them look taller but then if that was what you wanted you could just wear trainers anyway and stand on tiptoe. I didn’t know why a woman would want to look taller. What’s wrong with being woman sized?
I’d tried a pair on once. Just in the interest of research, you understand. They pinched meanly. High heels are evil.
They looked good on Harry’s feet though.
*
We came into the front room. Harry raised her eyebrows at me as she saw the mess from the night before.
“Smells like you had a good night.” She cocked an eyebrow at me. You would have thought it would have looked rude. It didn’t.
“Pill and Reb were over last night,” I explained.
“It’s a nice look.”
“Let me just tidy up. Do you want a cup of coffee?”
“Just tea would be nice. Let me help.”
“No, that’s OK. Just take a seat. I’m not going to wash up or anything.”
I tidied up and Harry sat on the couch watching me thoughtfully. It didn’t take long to clear up the mess. I just put it all next to the sink and left it for another day. It looked like a lot of work to wash up but mostly it was cups. Cups are easy washing up. Just run them under the tap and give them a quick scrub. I emptied the ashtray and cleared the torn Rizla papers and errant tobacco off the coffee table before opening a window. The fresh air was refreshing. I couldn’t really smell the aftermath of our smoke from the night before but I knew Harry didn’t smoke and it must have been cloying for her.
I brought the tea in.
“Did you hear about Joe?”
“No, what about him?”
I didn’t want to be the one to break it to her, but there was no one else here but me.
“He’s been committed. Sectioned. That might change if the police bring charges.”
“What did he do?”
“He tried to kill himself.”
“Oh, no.” She looked at me with tears in her eyes. I felt pity for her then. No one should have to go through what she was going through. “He won’t be getting out for a while then?”
“No, not unless they let him out.”
“Well good. The more I think about it the more I’m sure he did it.”
“I’m not so sure he did.”
“Why do you say that? It seems so obvious now. I can’t believe I was ever going out with him in the first place. I feel so dirty.”
“It’s not your fault Joe lied to you. He’s the dirty one. Not you. But I still don’t think he did it.”
“Why?”
“Because of the ring. He didn’t give Tracey the ring.”
“No, someone else gave her the ring.”
“I don’t think anyone gave her the ring. If they had she would have been wearing it. I think she gave someone else the ring. I think Tracey was a girl dying for love. She couldn’t find it with her boyfriend but still didn’t want to be alone. I think she was a romantic at heart. I think she gave someone the ring and they gave it back. Maybe that someone killed her.”
“Do you know who?”
“I think I do, but I’m not sure yet. There’s still too much that doesn’t fit.”
She was quiet for a while. “Well I’m still glad Joe’s been put away. I can’t imagine I ever let him touch me.”
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
She looked at me with big eyes. “Will you hold me Jake?”
I didn’t think I could trust myself not to shake. “Sure,” I said. I moved closer to her on the couch. I put my arms around her tentatively. She held onto me fiercely.
We held each other for a long time.
Eventually she moved to break away. I could hear her breathing in my ear. She moved her head around and made to kiss me on the cheek. It was a cool kiss. She stopped with her head right in front of my lips. I could have reached out and kissed her if I’d wanted to.
“You’ve got drug breath,” moaned Harry, breaking the spell. “How much have you been smoking lately?”
“Quite a bit.” I admitted. The moment passed. “Still, on the plus side, it’d take me a few hours to raise an interest, so you should get your money’s worth.” I winked at her, but I don’t think she was impressed. Meanwhile, things were looking up faster than expected. Stupid mouth was working faster than my brain. I wished I hadn’t said anything.
“Thank you,” she said and moved away. I could say things like that to Harry because I knew she didn’t expect anything more. But she had held me and for a moment I felt like a hero.
It didn’t last long though. Harry wasn’t impressed by my attempt at humour. I think it was too close to the mark.
Harry didn’t stay for long after that and she didn’t ask me to hold her again. My ardour was sufficiently dampened by the time she left for me to walk with her downstairs.
I shut the door behind her. I felt like a dildock.
*
20. Muse
I’d blown what little chance I had of success with Harry. I didn’t think she’d be interested in me if all I could do in her hour of need was make lame jokes. She hadn’t seemed angry or upset when she’d left though, so perhaps the company I’d offered her had been enough. For now, at least.
I wondered why it was that I was so hopeless with girls. Harry was twenty-seven years old and by no means a girl but I still felt like I was in college when I was near her. I just couldn’t say or do the right thing. I wish I’d been a stronger man, one who makes all the right choices and all the right noises. But then I guessed the type of man who was good with women wasn’t as honest as me. I felt like all the women I’d known had wanted me to lie to them and I just couldn’t do it.
Keeping my feelings for Harry secret just wasn’t the same as lying. It was an omission and that didn’t count.
Anyway, mooning about over Harry wasn’t going to get me anywhere. Already it was early afternoon and if I was going to get Joe off the hook I had to do some serious deducing. I went back downstairs and put on my boots and a coat. I left my home behind and pounded the pavement. Maybe the rhythm of the streets would knock something loose.
There’s something about the sounds of the streets and walking that’s conducive to thinking. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s the rhythm, perhaps it’s the air. But the motion of putting one foot in front of the other tends to put everything else into perspective.
> There was nothing I could do about Harry. There was no sense in worrying about what Joe would think if I ever got to go out with Harry. They were both problems for later on down the road. The problem for now was finding out who had killed the dead girl. I turned off Hall Street and onto Manse Road at the bottom and made for the park. The street was quiet, the rush hour traffic not having started yet, and there were few cars to distract me. I saw a couple of people walking down the street toward me, scrunched up against the cold, but aside from them I saw no one else on the way to the park. When I got there I knew there would be a few people like me, who didn’t work, wandering about to clear their heads or walking dogs, throwing sticks and talking to their pets. Fetch boy, good boy. Comforting sounds for me. It was nice to be surrounded by everyday banalities.
The rain started again. I thrust my hands into the pockets of my duffel coat and kept right on walking. I quite like the rain. I don’t like cold, driving rain but I was warm in my coat and it was only just past a drizzle. Other people in the park made for home in expectation of heavier rain to come. I just made it onto my second lap of the park. It wasn’t a big park.
My joints were waking up. My back didn’t feel too bad. I felt the warmth of blood coursing in my legs and took my hands out of my pockets to let them swing free.
The dead girl. Tracey, I had to stop calling her the girl. It was like I’d given up on finding her killer and so refused to afford her a personality. I made myself acknowledge the name. Tracey.
She’d had a boyfriend but the police weren’t looking at him for the killer and he’d called me back. I didn’t think he’d killed her. It just didn’t make sense for him to kill her. He hadn’t known about her secret life she’d led on Thursdays, first with James Tamerlain and then with Joe. It was like she was disciplined. She kept the dark side of herself hidden and only let it out to play once a week. She’d kept Thursdays free and all to herself, for how long I didn’t know. But I wondered what other secrets she’d kept for Thursday nights. She held down a job and a boyfriend but it didn’t seem like her. It seemed like a lie. I thought her secret life was the real Tracey Hardingham and everything else was just smoke.
BLOOD DRUGS TEA (A Dark Comedy Novel) Page 14
