He removes his suit jacket, turns his mobile phone off, and slides it into his inside pocket. His tailored shirt complements his lean body. Wide shoulders remind me of the strong lad he used to be.
‘How can you talk to me as though we’re old friends? Don’t you remember what you did? How you were? Are you aware what happened after you left?’
‘Let me explain. Please. We were all messed up by the lives we’d led.’
I sink into my seat and stare at his eyes. Will I see if he’s telling the truth? I nod for him to continue.
‘It was more a game. Things just got out of hand that day. You recall how I felt about you. Simon wanted you too. There was this huge rivalry between us. I know we should have been nicer to you after Erin died. I can’t explain it. We were only eighteen. It was childish. You’ve heard the phrase; you hurt the ones you love. In a way, we were both happier if nobody had you. Better that than the other person winning. It all went crazy. Anyway, you were fooling around as well.’
Incredibly, it sounded reasonable to that point.
‘You’re saying I was to blame?’
‘No, of course not. I wish none of those things ever happened. I knew I’d done wrong. I used it to motivate myself to lead a good life. I’m a policeman now, with four children. Katie, I will atone for the errors I made when I was young.’
‘You’re in the police? Not here in Cambridge?’
‘I was based in Cambridgeshire, but I moved to Essex a few years back. We have agency meetings like the one today. Each force communicates with others to keep track of the criminals who move around.’
‘I thought you went in the merchant navy?’
‘I did. They split Simon and me up straight away. It was a lonely life. He enjoyed that aspect, but I didn’t. Some of it was brilliant, like being paid to see the world, but it was hard being stuck on the same ship all the time. After five years, I came home and found the police job.’
‘Did you go back to the farm?’
‘Yes. The twins still lived next door. Their dad had a stroke so I believe they took the business on themselves. I spoke to the dunce, so I got half a story.’ He shifts in his seat. ‘He told me what happened. It was quite a surprise.’
‘Really? That’s an understatement, don’t you think? I lost my mind. I know it was me that did that terrible thing. But you played a part. Do you have nothing else to say? I was in prison for over sixteen years.’
‘I wish I could turn back the clock. It was a long time ago. I work hard for the community now. I take it you live here in Cambridge. Who’s your probation officer?’
‘Tim Thorn.’
His eyes widen as if that’s coincidental news. I realise I don’t want him knowing any more. The look on his face matches the sneaky manner he had as a lad.
‘Tim and I go way back. Perhaps I’ll have a word with him. See if I can get him to cut you some slack. Here’s my business card.’
I rise out of my seat and pick it up off the table. I catch him staring down my cleavage.
‘I want nothing from you. Keep out of my life. I need a new start and to live on my own terms.’
‘That’s what we all desire.’
For a moment, a cocky glint in his eyes takes me back to Erin’s final days. The boy became a man but nothing’s changed.
I slide the embossed card into his half-finished coffee. The emotions return from all that time ago. They’re fuzzy still, but anger and rage dominate my thoughts. I flee from the shop before I do something I will regret. A woman at the door scowls as I barge past. I sling my backpack on and sprint up the road. The shock has weakened me and I have to stop. A building beckons and I duck out of sight. I slump against a wall and place my head in my hands.
All these memories. I haven’t thought about Erin for years. I loved her unconditionally, but I still couldn’t save her.
39
The Tenth Memory - Age Sixteen
Ted stomped into the kitchen as if he wanted to leave footprints in the stone tiles. As you’d expect, Erin’s illness had affected him more than the rest of us. His clothes hung on him now. It was as if they’d lost weight in tandem. He looked like he had one foot in his grave, although it was almost time to throw the soil on for Erin.
Life ticked by on the farm. I had just finished my exams and applied to the college for a course in Business Studies. I didn’t particularly relish the idea of more studying, but it was a better alternative than getting a job. That said, I was more-or-less a full-time housewife now that Erin was too ill to do any more than sleep.
She’d taken the cancer diagnosis well, if that’s the right word. We understood straight away she was in trouble. She had an aggressive type, and the doctor was unsparing with the prognosis. I daydreamed at the appointments, holding her hand, wondering whether I’d want to know. After nine months of chemotherapy and radiotherapy, vomiting and tiredness, Erin said ‘enough’. She came home to die.
I’d somehow taken on most of her jobs. It’s lucky I didn’t have a social life before as I wouldn’t have had time for one after. My relationship with Ted was distant at the best of times. Working to exhaustion for him was not coming easy. The fact he seemed ungrateful was pushing me closer to the edge. I realised that he wasn’t a happy man, anyway. His surly comments, negative views and general darkness had been obliterated by Erin’s sunny demeanour.
I worried what might happen when she left us. Right now, though, I was furious.
‘Have you done all that washing?’ Ted didn’t even glance at me to order me about.
‘The ten piles? No, strangely, I haven’t. It takes 90 minutes with that level of soiling. Unless you left a time machine for me when you went off to work, then it hasn’t been possible.’
‘Less of your sarcasm. This kitchen’s a mess as well.’
‘It’s your mess. That is the state you, Bill and Simon left it in this morning. If you cleaned up after yourselves, it wouldn’t look like that.’
‘That’s your job. And why don’t you put on some clothes that fit.’
‘Why are these all my jobs? I’m not your wife.’
‘You stay here for nothing. You need to pull your weight.’
‘I am a student, not a skivvy. And I live here, not work here.’
He yanked a seat out from under the table and sat on it with a groan. He removed his head from his hands and after a minute, looked at my face.
‘I’m sorry, Katie. I can see you’re working hard. We all are. I’m trying to keep on top of things, but the fact my wife is dying is eating me up inside. She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. I can’t bear to be in there.’
He dragged himself to his feet and headed for the door.
‘Where are you going now? You need to be with Erin, she’s asking for you.’
‘I have work to do.’
I chased after him into the yard. ‘Work will still be there in a week. She won’t.’
He stopped mid-stride. His shoulders curled. A slight twist of his hips made me think he would return, but those shoulders shuddered. Ted leaned back, looked in the sky, and then strode off to the fields.
The day before, the palliative care team informed me Erin had no more than a week left. I wasn’t surprised. There was little left of her. I knew plenty about death already, but not up this close. I kept her mouth moist and mopped her brow. Bill and Simon would help lift and move her when I needed to change either her or the bedding. It was usually both at the same time.
If you’d have told me I would be doing something so disgusting before I moved in, I’d have said you were drunk. Yet it had been okay. As I grew into a woman, our relationship changed. The boys’ tomfoolery became wearing. Their constant pursuit of alcohol bored me.
Erin had the daughter she always dreamed of for a whole year before her cancer arrived. She was a basic woman who ran a farmhouse. I thought she’d want girlie trips or company to buy clothes. I discovered everything came through mail-order catalogues to save time. Well, the new s
tuff anyway.
What she wanted was someone to share her life with. When I realised I needed the same thing, we joined together. For those twelve months she had me to pass her recipes on to. I listened as she recalled distant lovers and nutty family members. We giggled as grumpy Ted arrived from the fields and frowned at us testing homemade wine.
Bless her, she tried to teach me to sew and cook. My darned socks looked more like gloves by the time I’d finished. I had more success with baking, although she said my cakes were made by someone with a heavy heart. That heart did become weighed down with affection for her. I found a deep joy in her companionship. We cleaned and aired, washed and ironed. And now, I would be with her when she died.
‘Shut up, fool. I got no time for the jibba-jabba. Don’t make me mad, Argh!’
I smiled. It was Bill’s idea. I wanted to get her a bell so she could call us from her bedroom. He found an electronic keyring that spoke quotes by Mr T from The A Team when you pressed the buttons. Genius. When it sounded, it never failed to bring a smile instead of only worry.
She lay in the middle of the double bed. Ted had insisted that he sleep on the sofa so she could have her rest. I think she understood that he couldn’t watch her die. Each day she was a little more tired; there was a little more gone. I often slept next to her. No one should die alone. I’d wake with a jolt and find she had moved her hand to rest against my side during the night.
‘Hi, Erin. How are you?’
I received a sleepy smile in exchange. Her eyes followed me to the side of the bed. She’d been less lucid of late. She talked in riddles, mentioning people or things I knew nothing of. Perhaps that’s the way the brain copes.
‘Get my trainers out. I fancy my chances against that four-minute mile.’
Still joking at the end. I found it odd how the medical staff would discuss her problems in the kitchen, away from her. Did they know the patients didn’t want to hear that stuff? I never asked why. Maybe the dying knew, and the advice and guidance was for us.
‘Sit down.’
I perched by her side. It was strange how small she’d become. I breathed deeply - death smelled like spring to me. It was a cool breeze through billowing curtains. Floral bedsheets washed again. The gasps as long forgotten memories returned. Smiles when old friends and family said farewell. Or the reassuring tap-tap-tap of raindrops from leaking guttering on blistered window sills beating the drum for the final lament.
‘What are you wearing, Katie?’
‘I know. I shrank an entire load. I did a colour wash after the sheets and left it on the wrong setting. The boys will castrate themselves if they try to put their underwear on. The only good thing is Ted’s shirts might fit.’
Her coughing took my grin away.
‘Well, you can’t walk around in stuff like that unless you’re after a job in a titty bar.’ She paused and gathered her breath. ‘It’s time now. I want to say goodbye properly.’
‘I’m so sorry, Erin. You didn’t deserve this.’
‘Stop that. We all follow a path. I’ve had a good life. I had it all. A great husband, the kids I needed to make me complete. And then you gave me my dreams. I worry about Ted. Will you stay and look after him when I’ve gone? Not for too long, of course. You’ve your own life to lead. Have children, Katie. As soon as you can. A family is everything.’
Bill and Simon arrived at that point. They were about as comfortable with the whole process as Ted was. I wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t been around. Who would have done what was needed? Maybe a greater power sent me to help in the same way many years later Irina would help me.
The boys had finished school and Ted got them labourer’s jobs on the farm. Bill and I kissed a couple of times when we’d had a few drinks. He was keen to go further, but I made sure that Simon was about. I liked Bill but there was a shade to him of something I didn’t like. I couldn’t put my finger on it. He was angry when I told him I saw him as a brother and wouldn’t do it again.
Not long after, Simon stated he had feelings for me. I explained the same thing to him. Even though we weren’t blood-related, that’s how I felt. Simon nodded and smiled after our chat. He, at least, understood.
‘Come in boys, give your mum a kiss.’
They shuffled in and did their duty.
‘Well, you are men now. Look at you.’
It was true. The wiry children were long gone. Manual labour and good food had packed muscle on them without me noticing. Simon reddened as he was examined. Bill remained emotionless. His gaze turned to me and goose bumps popped up on my arms.
I turned to Erin. She’d seen it too.
‘I love you, boys. Now get going and I’ll see you later.’
Mine and Bill’s eyes met as he left the room. His were distant. That should’ve been a warning. Erin coughed and brought my attention back to her.
‘I wish I could be here to help you, Katie. All the men will want you. I’m not being biased. You’re so pretty, but distant. A lot has gone on in your life and you’ve put up barriers. You’re unattainable, and people try to take what they can’t have. The lads struggle as well. I hope you’ll all look out for each other.’
That was the last thing Erin said. She didn’t die right then, but she entered a merciful sleep from which she would never wake. Her words made me sad, but not devastated because she was correct. My life had taught me to keep a piece of me hidden. When things went bad, which they always did, the part I held in reserve was protection. It would be that which kept me safe. Dark times were coming, and I would need to be ready.
40
The Shock of Seeing Bill
I return to my house straight away. My heart pounds and it isn’t through exercise. I bump into the landlord as he carries the microwave out of the front door.
‘Hi, Katie. They rang me and told me this stopped working. It’s pretty old, so I’ll bin it and pick up a new one at the weekend.’
I can’t think what to say and blink at him.
‘Are you okay? You’re ever so pale.’
I feign exhaustion. ‘Tired. Thank you for sorting that so quick.’ He’s not convinced but shuffles past with a concerned expression.
‘By the way, a bloke in a suit was here asking for you. Handsome chap. He said something about not being able to make your appointment tomorrow afternoon and he’ll meet you here instead. There’s a note under your door.’
I don’t give him a chance to see my face fall, and hammer up the stairs. It can only be Tim Thorn. Sure enough, the note is from him. “Ten o’clock. Be here.”
I pace around my bed until I get a cramp in my hips. What to do? I’ve always known at some point he’d try something on. Tomorrow will be when. I do not even want to think about the possibility of Bill getting in touch with him. Thorn forces my hand by today’s demands.
Where can I go? Irina will let me stay and Radic said he would have a place for me. I own too much stuff to take on the train and taxis are expensive. If I’m not here tomorrow when Thorn turns up, he’ll be immediately suspicious. I must buy time. Weeks if possible, certainly more than a day. I ring Irina.
‘Katie, how are you?’
She sounds as though she had a late night, or perhaps an early morning.
‘Irina. My life here has gone rotten if you know what I mean. I’m going to make the move.’ Silence. ‘Is that okay? I’ve got nowhere to stay.’
‘Yes, sorry. I’m just surprised. No problem. Relax. I’ll ring you in five minutes and we’ll sort it out.’
‘Sure.’ I hear a man’s voice as the phone line goes dead. It sounds like Gregor. I search my feelings and realise I have none. All I hope is it won’t complicate things.
It will be a long five minutes. Mai always told me silence was the answer. Still your mind and let it do its job. Anything was worth trying even though I never managed much in prison. I haven’t tried it for years. I think of her and empty my mind of the rest. Images of Bill and Thorn form and dissolve. After a fe
w moments, I surprise myself as a sense of clarity comes over me.
There are only two things of immediate importance. Number one, I need to get away. I don’t keep my money in the bank. There’s nothing I can’t leave behind. And either friends will help me or they won’t; that decision is out of my hands. However, should I go before tomorrow? Because number two is Thorn.
He controls my future. Thorn wants to possess me in the way many have tried. People like that don’t stop until they get what they want or you control them. Once he realises I’m gone, I’ll need to be a ghost. With new make-up I can look totally different. I’ll dress so no one would guess from where I came. My striking body-art and dyed hair will be further camouflage. Eventually, I’ll be forgotten.
My phone rings and I nearly drop it. The caller has withheld their number.
‘Hello.’
‘Hi, how are you?’ It’s Radic. I keep it neutral, I’m not sure why. Surely my phone isn’t bugged, although maybe his is?
‘Things have changed, and I was hoping to make the move we discussed.’
‘No problem. We’ll help. I can get someone to collect you.’
Perhaps this mindfulness does work. ‘That would be brilliant.’
‘Text Irina your address. When do you want the van there?’
‘Okay. A car is fine. I don’t have much stuff.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Can you make it tomorrow?’
‘What time?’
‘In the afternoon…’
41
Waiting for Thorn
I don’t sleep. I can’t eat. I do nothing. The peace I found earlier vanishes in a haze of vivid flashbacks. The horror of what happened returns in single pictures. When I finally spoke to a shrink inside, the lady told me I had repressed the memories. She said it’s normal to bury horrible experiences. There were still events beyond recall that I vowed I would never acknowledge again.
SHADOWS OF REGRET: If your life was ruined, would you seek redemption or take revenge? Page 14
