Redemption Song

by Wilkinson, Laura

  ‘So, in a moment of weakness, you agreed.’

  ‘I was weak where she was concerned. I hate myself for it.’

  ‘You took the blame for some selfish, reckless, heartless bitch. Would she have done the same for you, I wonder?’ Eifion’s expression told Joe that he knew she would not. ‘You did time. How long did you go down for? And was she waiting for you when you got out? No need to answer that. Of course, she wasn’t. So what’s she doing here now? Want you to take the wrap for another of her misdemeanours, eh?’

  Joe finished his beer and crushed the can in his fist. ‘Story’s not over yet, Eifion. It gets worse.’

  The colour drained from Eifion’s face. ‘The man you hit didn’t survive?’

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Joe’s throat constricted, rendering him speechless.

  ‘You went down for manslaughter,’ Eifion said.

  Joe shook his head and found his voice again. ‘No. The death was deemed accidental. It was dark, a country lane. The guy might have been drunk himself. That’s what the coroner said. Still strikes me as unjust. I went down for perverting the course of justice.’

  ‘Well, thank God, she came clean in the end. A redeeming feature, I suppose,’ Eifion said, the shock of Joe’s confession still visible in his demeanour. ‘How long were you in jail?’

  ‘Twelve months.’

  Eifion blew out noisily. ‘Phew. That’s harsh.’

  ‘Good behaviour got me an early release. The judge gave me three years; he wanted to make an example, he said. I was privileged, successful, intelligent. I had everything going for me and I’d abused it. I was a disgrace, he said, and stupid beyond belief. I don’t disagree. The man who died, was killed, had nothing. A homeless former soldier who’d served his country with honour and dignity. He’d been discharged after an injury and had never quite found his feet in civilian life. It seems he was making his way back to a barn where he’d been sleeping for some nights. Whether or not he was drunk, wavering all over the place, I don’t care. He should never have died and I feel partly responsible.’

  ‘Forgive me for interrupting here, but while I can see where the judge was coming from, it wasn’t you who actually killed the poor man. He was unnecessarily harsh. Brutal.’

  ‘I lied. Repeatedly. And the lie might have stuck had the police not been so sharp and had the witness not come forward.’

  ‘Witness? You said it was deserted. It was the middle of the night.’

  ‘That’s what we thought. But there was a local, out walking his incontinent old dog. He saw us as we sped through the village. Allegra had swerved at one of those mini-roundabouts. The brakes made a terrible noise.’ Joe shuddered. ‘This man, the dog walker, didn’t think too much of it at the time, until days later, when the story hit the local press. The police were organising a reconstruction and had asked for witnesses to come forward. He walked into the local police station and swore he’d seen a woman driving. That stretch of the road was well lit. And combined with the police suspicions …’

  Eifion went to speak, but Joe raised his hand. ‘I know what you’re going to say … He didn’t see the crash, collision, I hardly know what to call it, so how could he and the police know it was Allegra driving and not me? They couldn’t be sure. But I later learned that one officer had noticed how near to the pedals the driver’s seat was. We were so stupid we’d not even thought to move the seat back. Allegra’s tiny. And she’d refused a breathalyser at the scene. She was arrested for refusing to co-operate at first. The police interviewed Allegra and me again. I stuck to the script, religiously. I couldn’t bear the thought of her going to jail; I didn’t think she’d survive in there.’

  ‘But Allegra came clean?’

  ‘Not for a long time. She made it so much worse for herself. And me. And then she said the idea had been mine. That I persuaded her to lie.’

  Eifion bowed his head and shook it from side to side. ‘What a complete cow.’

  ‘I thought she’d told the truth for me, because she couldn’t bear me taking all the blame. Because she loved me,’ Joe sighed at his stupidity, his naivety. ‘But I later realised it was because the evidence was all pointing towards the truth. Months later, in court, I was hurt and angry, when she’d said it was my idea. My sense of fair play was rocked. But I still loved her, I made excuses for her, said it must have been fear that caused her to lie. It was a desperate need to hold on to the idea of love.’

  ‘It’s still a very harsh sentence. Not that I’m any kind of expert on the law or anything.’

  Joe shrugged. Joe hadn’t told Eifion the part of the story that had finally crushed him, destroyed his faith in humanity, which was only rebuilt during his stay in Coed Mawr, when he met Saffron and Rain and Ceri and Eifion and the good people of the community. ‘I deserved it. What hurt was the way people reacted. One person in particular. Lots of people cut me off. I’d expected that. We thought the business might take a hit, but Simon worked very hard to minimise potential damage. But when a friend, my best friend, turned against me … He’s a barrister. I asked him to represent me. He refused, said it would be too hard, unethical. I understood that, felt it had been crazy to ask, but he represented Allegra … I’ve known him since … forever. He bad-mouthed me, painted a real bad picture. He said Allegra lied to protect me. She still went down for perverting the course of justice and death by careless driving, though thanks to him the sentence wasn’t as severe as it could have been.

  ‘Judge said her career was a mitigating factor. Mitigating! But this friend, he didn’t visit me in jail, didn’t reply to my letters. Nothing.’ Joe felt like a self-pitying prick. But it had hurt.

  Eifion stood. ‘Another cheap lager? Wish I could offer you something stronger, but there you go.’

  Joe thanked him, choked and relieved by Eifion’s belief in him. Not once had he questioned or doubted what Joe had said.

  Eifion returned and handed Joe a can. He sighed. ‘This mate …’

  ‘Freddy.’

  ‘He fancied Allegra, I suppose, wanted her for himself? Was jealous of you? Had you ever done anything to offend him, wronged him in some way?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware of.’ Joe paused. ‘Simon says Freddy has always been jealous. All of us were at school together. Freddy bullied me when I first arrived at boarding school, made my life a misery. As new boy I was the centre of attention …’

  ‘And you’re clever and good-looking and charming. Think I’d hate you too.’

  Joe smiled despite himself. ‘Maybe. I didn’t feel any of those things at nine years old, but … Anyway, the school arranged counselling and a form of restorative justice. Freddy and I became buddies, best buddies. At least that’s how it seemed. Simon believes he never got over his hatred, he disguised it well, but it never went away.’ He paused, took a slow draught of beer, then stared into the teardrop-shaped hole in the top.

  ‘Something else?’ Eifion sounded incredulous.

  ‘Turns out Freddy and Allegra are connected. Distant cousins, on their fathers’ side. I only found this out about a year ago.’

  Eifion whistled. ‘So much for ethics.’

  ‘And they went out together as teenagers. I never knew.’

  ‘Urgh.’

  ‘Perhaps they’ll end up together. They certainly deserve each other.’

  ‘You know, Rain, the Rev, would disagree, but some people are just bastards, through and through.’

  Joe laughed. It felt good to tell the truth. He was fed up of living a lie, of keeping a low profile, staying away from people, being so mistrustful. He smiled to himself. Not that he’d done such a great job of staying away from people, not since he’d met Saffron. She’d pulled him into the world, helped him trust again, discover the good in people. Rain would be proud.

  Eifion shifted in his seat. ‘There are a few things I don’t understand. Why keep tabs on Allegra? Get over it. She’s out of your life, why keep a constant reminder? And how in the hell did she ever think y
ou might want her back? She seems absolutely bonkers to me. Isn’t she afraid you’ll punch her lights out?’

  ‘I’d never hit a woman.’

  Eifion guffawed. ‘You know what I mean. Metaphorically speaking.’

  ‘Allegra is deluded, but …’ Joe sighed. ‘She wrote to me, when I was inside, trying to explain, begging forgiveness. If she’d had any idea how harsh the judge would be … yackerty-schmackerty. Said she would come to me once she got out and I gave her the impression I’d be open to seeing her, having her back.’

  Eifion looked unconvinced. He sat there, silent. Joe had no choice but to explain, be honest.

  ‘And … oh, man, this is difficult to say … I wanted revenge. Ugly, but there it is. I spent my time inside perfecting my woodwork skills, getting an NVQ, and planning revenge. I had ideas but they were all flawed. I came out, got a new life, hid away here, and continued to plot. I kept tabs on Allegra so that she wouldn’t find me before I’d got a water-tight plan. Simon helped. And then, I met you, and Rain, and …

  ‘Saffron.’

  Joe nodded slowly, his chest constricting, his throat closing. He paused. ‘And everything seemed better somehow and revenge seemed futile, and pointless, and destructive. Sounds unbelievable but I figured I might even forgive her. And Freddy.’

  ‘I believe you. I believe every word,’ Eifion said. ‘Now, what are you going to do about it?’

  ‘Rain won’t let me near her. I could write a letter.’

  ‘Who’s to say she’ll read it. She might burn it, unopened.’ Eifion stood up. ‘Rain is a good woman. She’ll let you see Saffron. You just have to be patient. Now go home and get some rest. You look like shit and we’ve work in the morning.’

  ‘I’m worried about this reporter geezer. What if he runs an exposé on the “pier hero”? I don’t want to make things any worse for Saff, or Rain.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. I have friends at the paper. And you know what? I don’t believe people here would judge anyway. There’s this notion we’re narrow-minded, small town folk, and it’s absolute rubbish. You’re well-liked, Joe.’

  Joe stood and offered his hand. He was more grateful to Eifion than he could express. For lifting the burden of deceit from Joe’s conscience, for listening and believing, and not judging.

  Eifion took Joe’s outstretched hand, but instead of shaking it, to Joe’s surprise he pulled him into an embrace, a very masculine, slightly awkward hug. He thumped Joe’s back a couple of times.

  Joe felt as if he had another friend for life. A true friend, like Simon.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  The back of Rain’s neck stung from the force of the late afternoon sun’s rays. She tore at the band which contained a knot of hair on top of her head. On her knees in the garden, she was weeding the bed in front of the window. As her curls tumbled around her neck, and face, she felt the phone in the pocket of her jeans vibrating. It was a text from Eifion. He began by asking after Saff and went on to say if Rain needed a distraction he’d very much like to go out walking with her again. The sunset was predicted to be spectacular that evening.

  Rain dropped the trowel – it was too hot for such backbreaking work – and texted back immediately: Sod the walk. How about a drink? We never did have one the last time we saw each other.

  His reply bounced back before Rain had clambered to her feet. He’d love one and where did she fancy? She suggested a glass of wine – or beer if he preferred – in the manse garden. That way she wouldn’t risk meeting parishioners in a boozer and they could admire the sunset. The views from the garden were divine.

  After a shower, Rain padded into the bedroom in her underwear and opened the wardrobe. Rows of bright, floral patterned dresses and skirts swished to and fro. She pulled out a fifties style dress in black with pink polka dots. It stood out from the rest but she hesitated. Was it too dressy, too flirty, too young? She turned to the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door and held up the dress. It was slimming and funky, and it would be cool without the petticoats. She threw it on the bed and caught sight of her almost-naked body. Instinctively, she went to turn away but she stopped and forced herself to study the woman before her. How would a stranger view this body? A woman past her prime. Excess flesh on the waist and hips, dimples on the upper arms and thighs, silver lines like threads running down a spongy stomach, it was a body that had never seen the inside of a gym. But there were curves in the right places, it was well-proportioned, and the skin was peachy in tone and soft to the touch. The curly blonde mop could have belonged to a woman in her twenties, and blue eyes sparkled in a gentle, fresh-looking face, even without make-up.

  You won a genetic lottery and time has been kind to you.

  She dipped her chin, put her hands on her hips, her weight on one leg, and thrust out her breasts, in a pastiche of an underwear model in a cheap catalogue, before bursting out laughing.

  God forgive you, Rain de Lacy! What are you thinking? Get your clothes on!

  She returned the spotty frock to its hanger and dragged out one of her old favourites. Sitting in front of her dresser, she ran a wide-toothed comb through her still-damp hair and applied some mascara and red lipstick with care. She was about to leave when she spotted the fabric flower behind a ramshackle collection of creams and perfumes. Securing it with a clip, she pinned the poppy above her left ear before drifting downstairs to fill bowls with nibbles, which she would serve with the wine and beer chilling in the fridge.

  ‘Is this OK for you?’ Rain gestured to the open kitchen window, out of which music poured. Saff had said Rain would like the album. Rain didn’t enjoy much of what Saff played – far too heavy for her more populist taste – but her daughter had been spot on with this band.

  ‘They’re brilliant, aren’t they? What else do you like to listen to?’ Eifion asked, sipping at the Kir Rain had presented him with on arrival.

  ‘What do you think?’ Rain said, sure he’d wrinkled his nose.

  ‘It’s sweet.’

  ‘I could add more wine, sharpen it up for you?’

  Eifion shook his head. ‘It’s fine, really. Good to try new things, push yourself out of your comfort zone. Wouldn’t you agree?’

  ‘My tastes are pretty eclectic. I still love all those Britpop bands from my twenties, though I didn’t get to gigs or dances and clubs. Too busy with the kids. Bloody nuisances!’

  ‘Nothing to stop you now, of course.’

  ‘No.’ Rain looked out over the garden, towards the west and the horizon. She couldn’t actually see the horizon; she’d stretched the truth about that. Eifion was right. What was to stop her going to concerts and all sorts? Certainly, what was on offer here in Coed Mawr was more limited than London, but there was a cultural life, and she’d never taken advantage of all London had to offer anyway. She’d found the choice overwhelming, and Stephen didn’t like crowds or dancing.

  I’m still young. There’s an undiscovered world out there.

  She turned to Eifion. ‘Do you like concerts? Discos?’

  He smiled that lovely, warm smile of his and said, ‘Yes, though I don’t go much. Last time I went was with Ceri to see one of those bloody awful boy bands. Only one there over twenty-five. I felt like the oldest swinger in town.’

  ‘How is Ceri? Still childminding?’

  ‘OK. She’s applied to go back to college, an access course, she called it. Says she wants to be a primary school teacher; she’s loved working with those kids. Found her vocation, at last, and some ambition and drive. Got that from your Saff, I suspect.’

  At the mention of Saffron, Rain’s heart clenched. She took a gulp of Kir and shuddered as it hit the back of her throat. ‘Saff’s tougher than she looks. Medicine is so competitive.’

  ‘How is she?’

  Rain rocked her head from side to side, like a puppet. ‘Oh, you know …’ She wondered how much Eifion knew. He worked with Joe; he must have seen him most days at the hotel, unless the contract had come to an end. It ha
d been a week and a day since Joe’d come creeping round the manse garden in the dead of night, shouting for Saffron. He’d called and called her since. Rain had watched the missed call alerts piling up on Saffron’s phone screen.

  ‘He’s a good man,’ Eifion said suddenly, colour rising on his sunburnt cheeks. ‘Sorry. I didn’t come here to fight Joe’s corner. He’s more than capable of doing that himself.’

  You are a good man, Rain thought. Loyal, sensitive, kind.

  She felt slightly woozy; wine on an almost-empty stomach. The crisps and nuts and crudités had gone nowhere. ‘I’ve not seen him since Sunday. He came here. Did you know that?’

  ‘He must see her. To explain. He deserves that. It’s killing him.’

  ‘It’s too late; she’s down in London, looking for somewhere to stay, a job. She didn’t even take her phone.’ The Saffron-sized hole in Rain’s life was larger than she could have imagined. It wasn’t as if they had lived in each other’s pockets. Days would go by without them seeing one another for more than a couple of minutes at a time, especially of late when Saffy was out such a lot. When they’d first arrived in Coed Mawr, Saffron holed herself up in her room, but lately she’d become immersed in the life of the town. And, of course, Joe. Marcus. ‘She was going to apply at a hospital locally … but not any more.’

  Eifion sighed. ‘Joe’s not the only one who’ll miss her.’

  Rain couldn’t pretend to understand her daughter’s actions. Saffron was so black and white. To not even want to hear his side of the story. It was inconceivable. Everyone deserves a second chance. Rain thought about Stephen. The alacrity with which her pent-up rage had dissipated shocked Rain. She knew there might be, and she expected, further eruptions of anger, but the overriding emotion was a calm, deep sadness. They had been denied the chance to try and work things out. She accepted that might have been impossible but she had wanted to understand, to hear Stephen’s story. She didn’t want him cast in the role of heartless adulterer, her in the role of victim, abandoned wife. With some space between them, more time to talk, she might have understood. Why he did it. Where they went wrong. To understand is to forgive.