Peppercorn Street

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘If you give me your car key, I’ll go to the library and drive your car back. Can you ring them and let them know I’m coming, then I’ll call a taxi?’

  ‘Yes.’ After a moment she remembered to say, ‘Thank you’. But he’d gone by then.

  Paul watched his mother and when she seemed a bit better, asked quietly, ‘How was Dad?’

  ‘Not good. They think – he’s only got a few days.’

  He stared at her in shock. ‘How can it happen so quickly?’

  ‘I don’t know. I think it depends on where the tumour spreads and how quickly, I suppose.’

  ‘William doesn’t even know Dad’s dying.’

  ‘No. I can’t do much about that, though, because I don’t know where he is. I thought you might like to come and visit your father with me this evening. We don’t have to bother about visiting hours. We can go and see him any time.’

  He sat, head bent, staring down at the ground, then took a deep breath and stood up. ‘I’ll come with you if I’m back in time. I need to go out.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘To find William. I’ve got a few ideas where to look. He has to be told about Dad.’

  ‘He might attack you.’

  ‘I’ll risk it. He has to know.’

  She wanted to stop him, but didn’t think Paul would forgive her if she even tried. He wasn’t a child now, seemed to have grown up very fast during the last few days. As people did in times of crisis. ‘Be careful,’ was all she dared say.

  ‘I will. But I think I’ll be all right because he’ll want to know. Can you phone the hospital and tell them it’s all right now for William to visit Dad? Don’t call the police. I need to promise him he’s not walking into a trap.’

  ‘All right. I’ll do that right away. Take care.’

  When Kieran got home, he was in pain and had forgotten about Janey. She was still in his flat and looked wan and upset.

  He ate a biscuit then took another half tablet. He was not going back on to full tablets. ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘Yes. No one rang the doorbell and I didn’t see him outside. Sorry for being so wimpy about this, but he frightens me.’

  ‘He’s a big man.’

  ‘Yes. And very strong.’ She shivered.

  ‘I’ll help you upstairs with your things, shall I?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you. I’ve got my head together now, and besides, there are other people in the building, so I’m pretty safe here. The woman on my floor hardly ever goes out. The last thing he’ll want to do is be seen publicly harassing me.’

  ‘He was willing to risk approaching you in daytime.’

  ‘He thought I’d be a pushover. I didn’t really fight back last time, you see. I was so scared I just froze.’

  ‘Some people do. I gather it’s hard-wired into you how you react to sudden danger.’

  At her door he said, ‘If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask.’

  ‘Thank you. You’re so kind.’

  When she’d closed the door he went across the landing to ring her neighbour’s doorbell. A quiet and reclusive woman, Miss Fairbie. He explained quickly that Janey was being stalked, describing Gary.

  ‘I don’t want to get involved.’

  ‘You’d ring the police, though, if you thought she was in danger?’

  She thought for a moment, then nodded, already shutting the door.

  He sighed. Miss Fairbie had her own problems, but he thought she’d help if the worst came to the worst.

  Once in his own flat, he went to lie down. The next thing he knew it was the middle of the night, so he used the bathroom and crawled under the covers, fully dressed.

  His last thought before he drifted off to sleep again was that he was certainly sleeping better since he’d got involved with Nicole.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Paul went to the headquarters of the group William spent a lot of time with, which looked more like a small, shabby house than the headquarters of anything. He knocked on the door and when a bearded man opened it and scowled at him, said quickly, ‘I’m William Gainsford’s brother. I need to speak to him urgently.’

  ‘He isn’t here.’

  ‘Can I leave a message for him?’

  The man shrugged.

  ‘Look, our father’s dying. I need to tell William what’s going on. He’ll want to go and see Dad – while he still can.’

  ‘And this could be a neat little police trap.’

  ‘I wish it were. It’s real. Dad’s dying.’ He sniffed, feeling his eyes filling with tears.

  ‘You’re as soft as William said.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter whether I’m soft or not. He’ll want to know about Dad. Tell him I’ll be waiting at our old home to explain and I’ve not told the police I’m doing this.’

  He turned and walked away, wondering if William was inside the headquarters, wondering whether his brother would come to see him.

  He saw the neighbour as he went into his old home, raised one hand but didn’t let her start talking to him. Inside he stopped in shock. It looked as if a bomb had hit the place. Surely they hadn’t left it in this bad a state? Had William been back?

  The heating wasn’t on, but he found a blanket and went to sit in the kitchen with it wrapped round his shoulders, waiting. He didn’t switch on the lights as that might bring the police to check things out.

  It seemed a long time before he heard a sound outside, but when he squinted at his watch in the moonlight, it was only just over an hour. He turned to see a dim outline of a face at the window. William. It must be.

  The door opened but no one came in.

  ‘It’s not a trap,’ he said in a low voice.

  The door banged fully open and William stood on the step but still didn’t come inside.

  ‘What’s the matter with Dad? Tell me quickly. I’m not staying long.’

  ‘He’s got a brain tumour and …’ When he’d finished his explanation, Paul said only, ‘I thought you’d want to know.’

  His brother looked at him. ‘If you’re telling me lies, setting up a trap, I’ll kill you.’

  ‘I’m not. Dad’s dying. He only has a few days left. You can visit him any time. Mum’s told the hospital to let you in.’

  ‘I’ll think about it. Maybe tomorrow.’

  And he was gone, just like that. He didn’t say thank you. He didn’t ask about Mum. Well, that sod didn’t care about anyone except himself. He probably wouldn’t go to the hospital, either.

  But Paul felt good about what he’d done, which was what mattered most.

  His mother was waiting for him at the flat. She looked as if she’d been crying.

  ‘Did you find your brother?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is he going to see his father?’

  ‘I don’t know. Who can tell what William’s going to do? Did you ask the people at the hospital to let him in, Mum? You didn’t tell the police, did you? Not about this.’

  ‘No.’ She came across to hug him. ‘I rang the hospital and said it was all right for him to see his father, told them we’d resolved our differences, given the circumstances, and he was a shift worker.’ She moved towards the kitchen area. ‘Are you hungry? Good. I’ve got some food ready, then we’ll grab a bit of sleep. Kieran’s offered to take us to hospital in the morning. I’ve to ring him. I thought you’d want to come and say goodbye to your dad.’

  She paused and looked at him. ‘You don’t have to, if you don’t want.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll come with you tomorrow.’

  Just after one o’clock in the morning, William slipped into the ward, alert in case they were waiting for him. The nurse at the reception desk was yawning over some papers and there was no one else around.

  When he introduced himself, she said, ‘Ah, yes. Your mother said you might be in quite late. Just come off your shift, have you?’

  He stared at her, then nodded.

  ‘I’ll show you where your father is.’

  ‘H
ow is he?’

  She gave him a pitying look. ‘Going downhill fast, as I expect your mother told you.’

  ‘Can he – like, hear me if I talk to him?’

  ‘We don’t know. He isn’t reacting to stimuli at all now, but you should treat him as if he can hear you. I always do. It seems more respectful.’

  William followed her into a small room set apart from the others. It made him feel like a rat in a trap. If they tried to capture him here, he’d create mayhem. He flexed his muscles and looked down at his arm admiringly. You could see the biceps even through his clothes now. He needed some more stuff to keep up this progress. When was the stupid nurse going to leave?

  She went up to the bed first, to check out the still figure, then turned to beckon him forward. ‘I’ll leave you alone with your father. Would you like a cup of tea?’

  It might be drugged. ‘No, thanks. I just had one.’ He kept himself very alert, ready to act. Man the hunter, just as it was meant to be.

  After she’d gone, leaving the door slightly ajar, he went to close it, and only then did he move closer to the bed to study his father’s face carefully. He was shocked rigid at what he saw.

  This wasn’t his father!

  But it was. He shivered. His father seemed more dead than alive. For once, Paul the Softie had been right. William had needed to come here.

  Bending forward, he said in a low voice, ‘I don’t know whether you can hear me, Dad, but I wanted to say goodbye. That’s all, really. I’m sorry you’re dying.’ He stood there for a moment or two, then said, ‘Can’t think of anything else to say. ’Bye now.’ He shrugged off the feeling of helplessness and went out, on the alert for traps.

  That fat nurse didn’t even see him go out the back way, towards the fire stairs, because she was talking to someone hidden by the corner of the wall.

  It was so easy to do what he wanted. Most people were mugs, doormats, fit only for treading on. He wasn’t.

  Outside the hospital, however, the cold bit in and William began to shiver. He did not like living on the streets and he damned well wasn’t going to sleep out on a night like this. The only place he could think of going was home. He’d slept up in the roof space last night, on a platform his dad had built across the joists for storing their camping gear. They’d got rid of it years ago, but there were still a couple of tatty old sleeping bags and a few other bits and pieces left up there.

  He’d got up into the roof by standing on the banisters and pulling himself up. He woke up when the police came in to check out the house and smiled as he heard them moving round. They’d not catch him.

  They came back again just as it was starting to get light, without suspecting that he was overhead. He was a lot smarter than them, as well as a lot stronger.

  He yawned and stretched. Probably be best to get out of here once they’d gone, before the neighbours started stirring. He’d change his clothes whilst he was at it, and get something to eat.

  He did a careful check before leaving, but couldn’t see any police or other watchers near the house. He gave a scornful sniff. It was as his friends said: the police relied on most people acting like meek bloody sheep. They didn’t have resources to follow up on everything.

  But he had to get hold of some money, if he was to stay ahead of the game. He’d soon be needing some more stuff. And he’d have to find somewhere to exercise. When he was inducted into the group, it’d be a lot easier, but until then he had to fend for himself. Those were the rules. All they’d do for the first few months was sell him the stuff.

  Dan went to the allotment as usual on Sunday morning, looking forward to his lesson on cake making later in the day. He could probably have found instructions for doing it in Peggy’s cookery books, but in practical matters, being shown was often more useful.

  Same with gardening. Books didn’t give you a feel for it, or tell you the local soil conditions, weren’t able to look up at the sky and figure out what the weather was going to be like.

  If the cake he’d tasted at Winifred’s last time was anything to go by, she was a top cook.

  Besides, this was a way of cementing a new friendship. At his age, new friends were few and far between, and mostly women, because men died sooner. Thank goodness he’d never smoked. The friends who’d smoked had died first, it seemed to him.

  Humming under his breath, he checked his trays of seedlings in the little lean-to greenhouse he’d built from scrap wood and old windows bought cheaply from the salvage yard. He was pleased to see several more seedlings standing up and testing the world around them by opening two little leaves on a delicate stalk. Soon he’d be starting his first plantings, pricking them out. He loved doing that. There was so much promise in a row of young plants. They stood up so bravely out in the big world and responded so well to a little care.

  Still humming, he began to potter around, bending over to clear up some wind-blown debris. From that position he noticed a burly young fellow coming out of Martin’s hut and something about him looked menacing. Dan stayed where he was, not even standing up. Still crouching, he moved closer to his hut, not liking the looks of the fellow at all.

  Some instinct made him slip inside. He’d have locked the door, only it had no locks on the inside. He’d never even considered that before, but now it seemed a stupid omission.

  He continued to peer out of the window and to his horror, saw the young fellow trampling on some seedlings Martin had just set out, doing it deliberately. Dan’s heart began to pound and he took out his mobile phone. Was he in enough danger to ring the police? He switched it on, in case.

  The young vandal wandered over to another of the makeshift huts and kicked the door in, vanishing inside for a moment or two, then coming out, clenched fists hanging by his side, looking annoyed. Hadn’t found anything valuable, probably.

  He kicked again, smashing the flimsy wooden door panels and then chucking a stone through the little window.

  That settled it. Dan dialled 999 and said in a voice breathless with fear, ‘There’s a young guy kicking in the hut doors and trampling plants at the Grove Allotments. I think he’s looking for things to steal. I’m alone in my hut and I’m frightened. I’m an old chap. I can’t defend myself against a brute like that.’

  There were some fuzzy crackling sounds then a voice said, ‘Car on its way.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  But would it come fast enough?

  He tried to jam the chair under the latch, but the chair back wasn’t high enough. They might do that sort of thing in novels, but it didn’t work in real life. He thought of the padlock, hanging uselessly on the outside, but didn’t dare open the door to get it, in case he drew attention to himself. If he survived this, he’d fit good strong bolts inside.

  Keeping out of direct sight – he hoped – he continued to watch through the little window.

  Oh, no! The fellow was coming this way now.

  Janey woke on Sunday morning feeling apprehensive. For a moment she couldn’t think why, then she remembered Gary turning up yesterday, the way he’d grabbed the pram and threatened her baby. He hadn’t really looked at Millie, even though she was his child.

  But at least she’d given Kieran the letter now. If anything happened to her, they’d know who’d done it. And the letter meant she’d have something to threaten Gary with.

  She hesitated about going to church, then got angry. Why should she stop doing the things she wanted to? She’d be careful, very careful, but she wasn’t going to hide in her flat all the time.

  She got ready, dressing as smartly as she could, put Millie in the playpen and pushed the buggy out on to the landing, moving it carefully down the stairs. It was irritating the way she had to juggle Millie and the buggy to get them both down safely.

  As often happened, Kieran’s door opened before she reached the bottom and he smiled at her. ‘Need some help?’

  ‘No, thanks. I’ve just got to fetch Millie down then we’re off to church.’

  ‘I
’d offer to walk with you, but I’d slow you down.’

  ‘That’s all right. There’ll be plenty of people around at this hour.’

  ‘I’ll come and watch you walk down the street, and if you give me a ring when you’re nearly back, I’ll come out and make sure you get home safely.’

  Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him. ‘You are so kind, Kieran. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.’

  He went a bit red. ‘People have helped me a lot this past year. When you’re more settled, perhaps you can help someone else in your turn.’

  ‘I will. You know, you’re walking a lot better than when I first moved in.’

  He beamed at her. ‘Do you really think so?’

  She nodded, happy to have pleased him. But it was true: he was limping less – and smiling a lot more, too.

  When she got down to High Street, she turned and waved to him, then set off for church. There were enough people around for her to feel safe.

  This time she knew to take Millie to the crèche and when she sat on one of the hard wooden chairs, waiting for the service to begin, a couple of people nearby said good morning to her, which made her feel welcome.

  To her surprise, Al from college came in with a woman who didn’t look old enough to be his mother, but who looked so like a female version of him that she must be.

  He nudged his mother and they came over to join Janey. After introductions, they sat down beside her.

  ‘I enjoy Louise’s sermons,’ his mother said. ‘She’s got her feet on the ground, unlike some.’

  After the service, people stayed around chatting, and to Janey’s surprise, Al offered to get her a cup of coffee.

  She looked in the direction of the side room. ‘I need to fetch Millie.’

  ‘The crèche doesn’t shut till an hour after the service,’ his mother said. ‘Louise thinks people should enjoy their outing and do some talking of their own, instead of leaving it all to her.’

  Al grinned. ‘And she provides decent coffee too. It’s only 20p a cup, so I can afford to treat you.’