watch and wait. You know how I like to play it.’
‘Let me watch too. I want to see him. Please, Mel. I
want to figure out if this is our guy.’
‘Um. I think that might be my job.’
‘Yeah – sorry. But it kind of feels like mine too.’
There’s a long sigh at the other end of the line. ‘Look.
I can’t make any promises, Matt. Come up if you want
and I’ll see what I can do. But it’ll all be unofficial. We
may have to tell some porkies.’
‘You’re a star.’
Just as he hangs up, Matthew hears the front door. He
checks his watch and winks at Amelie.
‘Right, my sweet pea. Mummy is home and Daddy
has to go to work. I’m going on an aeroplane and I’m
going to bring you back some haggis.’
‘What’s haggis?’
‘It’s like sausage only better. Absolutely delicious, I
promise you.’
‘As nice as pancakes?’
‘Definitely.’
* * *
In the hire car from Glasgow Airport later, Matthew
feels a pang of guilt at the little white lies he’s had to tell 225
Teresa Driscoll
Sally lately. He’s still pretending his iPad is broken, and is planning to call again on Ian as soon as he gets back. Ian’s
now agreed to the monthly cost of an Internet package
and is taking his iPad lessons very seriously. He should
be up and running soon. Now Matthew has somehow
implied to Sally that Tom is funding this Scottish trip.
It’s true that Tom is meeting his day rate again since
Alice re-engaged him. But there’s no sign-off yet for
this special trip.
Matthew is well aware that he’s more copper than
businessman, and is wondering if he dares add these costs
to the Alice invoice without prior agreement. In fairness,
silver-spoon Tom has said whatever it takes, I’ll pay, but Matthew can hardly make a legitimate case for this trip.
The ball is in Mel’s court now. It will take time for the
techies to check Alex’s phone and go over all the CCTV
for his movements over the past few weeks. Matthew
thinks it is highly unlikely Alex will admit to anything.
He’s already playing the victim and won’t make it easy
for them. In truth, it would make sense to just wait and
see what happens. But Matthew is impatient; he badly
wants to see Alex’s face as he’s questioned. He wants to
get a feel for where this is going. In the past, he has had
a good eye for spotting ‘tells’. He trusts his instinct and
needs to see this guy in the flesh. The bottom line is
he would love for this whole sorry case to be over. For
Alice’s sake.
As he pulls into a parking space within sight of the
police station, he feels the familiar surge of adrenaline
that comes when a key suspect is in custody. Mel will be
feeling the pressure too.
Inside, he puts in a request for Mel at the front desk
and she appears within minutes. The sergeant on reception
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seems bemused. He queries Matthew’s status but Mel
suddenly starts fidgeting with her phone, pretending
to check messages and then making a quick call, saying
simply, ‘He’s here; five minutes maximum.’ There are
two other members of the public waiting to be seen by
the front desk. Mel raises her eyebrows and stares at her
watch. She signs for a visitor badge, giving only cursory
explanations that Matthew is ‘ex-job’; is deeply involved
with the case ‘down south’ and is needed urgently for
the interviews. For a moment Matthew thinks the bluff
isn’t going to wash, but then the desk sergeant glances
between Mel’s enormous bump and the people waiting
in line.
Matthew gets his visitor’s badge.
The station is small and he’s led quickly through to
a small room adjacent to the interview suite. It’s nearly
four o’clock in the afternoon and Alex has apparently been
making a scene, complaining that he’s feeling unwell. That
he is being harassed. That Brexit or no Brexit, I’m going to the European Court of Human Rights over this. A duty solicitor has turned up and has already taken instructions. Mel
explains that Alex’s position is that it is none of anyone’s
business who he marries. The girl’s an adult now.
‘So there he is,’ Mel says, signalling with her head to
the impossibly good-looking man seated on the other
side of the one-way glass.
Matthew takes in a long, slow breath and stares at Alex.
Suddenly he’s thinking again of that terrible moment
when the bike swung past them. The squirt of liquid into
Alice’s face. Those dreadful minutes when he thought it
truly was acid and Alice’s life would be changed forever.
It would take someone with extraordinary nerve to
do that. Chilling arrogance.
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He takes in Alex Sunningham’s stance. He is leaning
back in his chair with his legs stretched out in front of
him. Arms folded. Narrowed eyes.
‘I’m going to sue you,’ Alex says very coolly.
OK. So – definitely arrogant enough, Matthew thinks.
But are you our man? He stares through the glass . Was all of that really you?
228
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Him – before
Just two weeks and he’ll be in double figures. Ten …
years … old.
He has waited a long time for double figures. He thinks
of his maths lessons in school. His new teacher has an
abacus which she keeps on the shelf. A black frame with
shiny red beads. He loves that abacus. In fact, he likes
maths a lot now and works even harder in school. Top
group. Top dog. He feels sure that things will change;
that things will be different once he is no longer a single
digit. Double digits on that abacus.
He longs to be taller and stronger too. He thinks of
all the things he will be able to do when he is taller and
older and can go to the gym and build up his muscles.
‘What you thinking about?’ his gran says. She is knit-
ting him a new sweater for school. He does not want it.
It’s the wrong colour; the blue is too dark. The wool will
itch and they will tease him. Maybe your gran could knit you some pants too. Woolly pants … Woolly pants.
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ She’s still staring at him.
‘Nothing.’
‘Ah – yes. You children spend a lot of time thinking
about that.’ She is smiling but also glancing at the clock.
Wednesday.
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When he’s in double digits, everything will be differ-
ent. When he’s in double digits, he will not answer the
door to Brian. He will put a chair against the door and
pretend he cannot hear him knocking.
He will be going to big school soon and he’ll start a
gang. He’ll tell them about Brian. Not the truth – not
the dirty, stinking truth. But he will say that Brian has
&nb
sp; hurt his gran and needs to be taught a lesson. And they
will all teach him a lesson together. They will make him
beg … and beg… and beg.
He looks across the room at his gran, who is still smil-
ing at him. He thinks of how tired she always looks. How
hard she always works. He thinks of her baking cakes for
him every Sunday – butterfly cakes with jam and icing –
and making him boiled eggs with soldiers before school.
And he thinks of her looking out of the window every
day to say good morning to Grandad’s bench.
‘When I’m big, I’m going to look after you,’ he says.
‘So that you don’t have to go to work at all.’
‘Of course you will. And that will be lovely, my sweet
boy.’ She folds up her knitting and puts it into the bag
next to her, glancing again at the clock.
She only works one night shift every two weeks now.
She has done some deal with Stan at work. He doesn’t
know how.
So just once a fortnight there is the tap at the door.
Brian with biscuits and banter. His big fat belly. And his
little bargain.
One week he thought of just refusing to answer the
door, but Brian has said it has been going on so long now
that it is too late for second thoughts. No one will believe
him and they will put his gran in jail for leaving him.
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He closes his eyes and thinks again of maths class in
school. He has learned that working hard gets the teachers
off your back. He was suspended after hurting the boy that
time the head teacher got cross. His gran cried and the
suspension wasn’t for very long. She said that education
was his only chance to make something of himself. And
so he decided deep inside never to make her cry again.
Now he has the class merit badge. He is in top groups
for everything. And he has just been given a special school
award to take music lessons free of charge. He can pick
any instrument he likes.
He can’t decide. Guitar or piano? He must choose soon.
He pictures himself playing music and he imagines
people looking at him and saying, What a clever boy. He thinks it will be a good trick. People will listen to his
music and will have no idea what is really going on inside
his head.
They will never guess the truth. That he is thinking
still of hammers and eagles and how long it will be before
he grows, with his age in double digits – and is big enough
and strong enough to start a gang and pay Brian back.
To make him beg.
231
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Alice
I’m in a café when the email comes in from work. I’ve
used up the ‘breathing space’ of my spare holiday now, and
they agree with me that we need to make some decisions
about ‘going forward’. There’s politically correct rubbish
from Helen in HR about my safety being the priority,
blah blah blah. There’s an additional note from the editor saying he’s again turned down police requests to tap the
phone lines for evidence. I do understand. No paper could
function if we agreed to that. But at least they see that a
meeting’s essential. Good.
It’s still Thursday. Mum’s settling into her new home
and I need some routine back. I stir the foaming milk
into the rest of the coffee and think. Yes – I so badly need
to get back to work. I’ve written a blog for the charity but they haven’t published it yet. They’re worried about the
timing with Alex’s arrest, and want to wait to see the
outcome. To be honest, Claire’s emails have been a bit
odd the past couple of days. She keeps going on about
me trying her new alarm and writing about that instead.
For some reason this is troubling me. I thought she said
the alarm project was in its early stages.
No matter. I brush thoughts of Claire and the charity
away and reply instead to Helen’s email, agreeing to the
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meeting and stressing that I ideally want to return next
week. It’s been long enough. I’m not going to get heavy
with them just yet, but I will if I need to. I shouldn’t be
the one paying the price for this creep’s behaviour.
I put my phone back in my pocket and then, as I look
up, there is the most extraordinary surprise. He’s wearing
a very smart woollen coat with a bright, striped scarf I
have not seen before, so that for a few moments I am not
one hundred per cent sure it’s him. But then he turns and
I’m shocked at the little punch inside. He looks so striking
and I feel the familiar guilt because I don’t feel this way
when I catch sight unexpectedly of Tom.
‘ Jack. What on earth are you doing here?’
He looks utterly shaken too. ‘Alice! Goodness.’ His
expression segues from puzzlement into pleasure, as if he
can’t quite process this either. But I’m pleased he seems
glad to see me. ‘I’m after a sandwich before an interview.’
He fidgets with his scarf as if suddenly self-conscious.
‘Local primary school. Teacher awards. What about you?
Bit out of your way here, isn’t it?’
‘Loose end. Just been driving around. Well, sit down
and tell me what’s happening. By coincidence, I’ve just had
an email from the office. I’m hoping to be back next week.’
‘That would be fabulous. We’re all missing you.
Everyone thinks it’s unfair they’re making you take holi-
day. So, how are things? Have you not got your security
guard guy with you?’ He glances about, as if checking
for Matthew.
‘He’s not a bodyguard. And no. Not today. Only
Wednesdays. The key suspect has just been arrested,
though I need you to keep that under your hat.’
‘But that’s great news.’ He leans in to read my face.
‘Isn’t it?’
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Teresa Driscoll
‘Yeah – I guess.’
I am rewinding now to remember when I last saw Jack.
Ah yes – at Leanne’s, when he warned me that the editor
was reallocating my campaign stories. The demolition of
Maple Field House. I feel a smile as I remember that Jack
has been looking out for me. I’m grateful.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ I say. ‘I suppose I should be more re-
lieved but I guess I won’t relax fully until they find some
proper evidence. It’s a bit of a waiting game.’
‘So who is it? The guy in custody. Someone you did
a story on?’
‘No. Not supposed to say. An ex, actually.’
‘Dear Lord, I had no idea.’
And then the waitress appears and Jack orders a double
espresso and a toasted sandwich. I wave my hand to signal
I’m fine with just my drink.
‘By the way – I’m really grateful for you tipping me off
about the campaign story. The demolition of the flats… I
met the organiser up in London so I’m right up to speed.
I’m not letting Ted pass the coverage to
anyone else. No
way. Not after all I’ve put into that.’
‘Oh – you’re welcome. Anyway, if you’re back next
week, it’ll be fine. So it’s really all over? What a relief.’
He’s looking into my face as the waitress returns with his
coffee, advising him the sandwich will be just a couple
of minutes. I notice that he doesn’t thank the waitress,
doesn’t even turn to look at her, and so I do the niceties
for him, nodding at her and smiling until she’s gone.
‘It’s just I’ve been really worried about you, Alice. We
all have. I haven’t wanted to intrude by email or text. I
mean, I know you have Tom looking out for you.’ For
some reason he flushes – a red patch appearing above the
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scarf on his neck. I wonder if he is thinking as I am of
that awful Italian meal. My faux pas.
‘I’m fine, Jack. Well – no, that’s not true. But Tom’s
been great and I’m managing, and I should know very soon
if this nightmare is finally over.’ I pause then, wondering
if I should confide in him more. He seems to sense this,
raising his eyebrow by way of question.
‘We’ve just moved my mother to a new nursing home.
Better facilities.’ I don’t know why I don’t tell him the
truth. He doesn’t say anything so I assume he hasn’t heard
about the video. Some family friends saw it but why would
anyone in the office be looking? ‘I’m going up there later
to make sure she’s settled in. I’ll feel happier then.’
‘Good. That’s good.’
The waitress is very soon back with the food, and I
look at the melted cheese oozing from the golden bread.
It makes me feel hungry and I’m just wondering whether
to order one myself after all when my phone rings. I raise
my hand by way of apology as I take the call. It’s the
editor’s secretary, Samantha. She babbles an apology but
says she’s been updated about the meeting by HR and
needs to change the time we just agreed. Suggests 3 p.m.
instead of noon because Ted has a meeting over lunch.
‘That’s fine. No problem.’ I add that by coincidence
I am with Jack and he’s packing away a cheese toastie.
Samantha laughs and then adds something which
makes no sense at all.
‘It’s good to know what Jack gets up to on his day off.’
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CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Alice – before
The first time my mother saw me with my new hair co-
I Will Make You Pay (ARC) Page 23
