I didn’t even look up at Paul and Laura.
When Mr Jackson led me back down to the cell room underneath the court, my instinct took me straight toward the cell I’d been put in so many times before. As I walked toward the door, I heard a noise I’d never heard before behind me. I turned to see Mr Jackson laughing.
“Where are you going fella?” he said. “You don’t belong in there any more sunshine.” He pulled out a chair from under the main table in the room, the one I’d seen him reading his newspaper at so many times over the last week. “Have a seat, Gareth. All we’re waiting for is some paperwork, and then you’ll be on the out.”
I didn’t reply, but just sat on the chair he had offered me. It didn’t feel right, and I looked over my shoulder toward the cell. As I did so, Mr Jackson bustled around by the kettle.
“White with two, isn’t it?” he asked me, throwing two teabags into mugs and flicking the switch to the kettle on. Mugs, not polystyrene cups. As it heated the water, he turned to face me and crossed his massive arms over his chest. “Well, I didn’t see that coming, did you?” he asked. I shook my head in reply, not sure what to say. “I mean, blimey, you’ve just gone from being a convicted murderer to a free man in the space of about an hour,” Mr Jackson continued talking, and I tried my best to tune him out. It was weird the way he’d gone from being sullen and uncommunicative to my new best friend, but I guessed it was just the way he related to prisoners versus people who weren’t prisoners. Maybe I had misjudged him after all?
The door to the cell room flew open and Laura came through it, almost running. I got to my feet and turned to face her and to my surprise, she threw her arms around me and hugged me. I stood there for a second before I remembered what to do, and put my arms around her to return the gesture. Her hair was lying against my cheek, and I could smell the shampoo she used. I had no idea what sort of shampoo it was, but it smelt amazing. The feel of her body against mine felt amazing. I let go of her, embarrassed but not really knowing why. She released her grip on my shoulders and took a step back. I looked at her and saw that her face was flushed with excitement.
“My God, can you believe that?” she said, almost squealing. There were two red patches on her cheeks, just where her dimples appeared when she smiled. “Can you believe that?”
“That’s just what I was saying,” Mr Jackson added. “Look at him though, I don’t think it’s sunk in.” They both looked at me, and Laura smiled before starting to laugh. Her dimples punctuated the red patches on her cheeks perfectly.
“No, I don’t think it has,” she said.
Mr Jackson, whose first name I found out was Craig, finished making the tea just as a man in a suit who I’d never seen before came in with a bunch of paperwork for me to sign. Laura explained what the various bits and pieces were, but I couldn’t care less. All I wanted to do was to get them signed and get out of the place. As he left, clutching the freshly signed forms in his hand, he walked past Paul who was just coming into the room.
“Gareth, my dear boy,” Paul said as he reached me, pulling me into a bear hug. I wasn’t that bothered about smelling the shampoo that he used, though. “What an amazing result,” he whispered in my ear. Once we had completed the back slaps of two men hugging, we extricated ourselves and sat down.
“What’s next, Paul?” I asked him.
“Well, once the paperwork has been countersigned by the judge then you’re a free man. I’ve been talking to Jennifer’s father, Andy is it?” I nodded. “He’s waiting to collect you and take you back to his place while everything else is sorted out.” I suddenly realised that I had nowhere to go. The flat that Jennifer and I had bought had tenants in it, and as what had just happened had been so unexpected, I’d not even thought about it. Paul must have realised what I was thinking. “I’ve just spoken to Andy outside. There’s bloody press all over the place, though,” Paul said. “Did you want to speak to them?”
“Er, no thanks,” I replied. “I’d rather not.”
“Good lad, that’s what I like to hear. Although I suspect that you’re going to be quite the celebrity for a while if you wanted your fifteen minutes of fame.”
“No, not my style. I’m not interested in the slightest.”
“Okay, no problem. Andy’s son has a car parked at the rear of the courtroom. Most of the hacks know about the rear entrance, but they’re pretty good about not bothering people if they leave from there, so I’m told,” Paul said. “So as soon as we get the nod from the judge, you’re good to go.” I looked at Laura, who had a broad smile on her face. She looked as pleased as I was.
A few minutes later, I flinched as a phone in the corner of the room rang. Mr Jackson walked across to answer it in the absence of any of the court staff. I guessed that now I was innocent they didn’t need to be here anymore. I heard Mr Jackson, now Craig, say a few words to the person on the other end of the line before he put the handset back down. He turned to me with a grin.
“That’s it, sunshine. You’re all good,” he said, his smile broadening. I got to my feet and he walked toward me. For a horrible moment, I thought he was going to give me a hug like Paul had done, but he just held out a hand. “We’ll sort out your personal belongings down the line, yeah?” he said as he gripped my hand like a vice. I thought for a second about what those belongings actually were.
“You can keep them if you want, or burn them,” I replied. “But would you say goodbye to Pete for me?”
“Course I will,” he said. “You take care of yourself, you hear? Don’t take this the wrong way, but I never want to see you again.”
I laughed and followed Paul up the stairs leading back toward the courtroom. Instead of entering the courtroom, he pushed open a door with a sign saying ‘Court Employees Only’ in bold red letters. I must have walked past the door a hundred times and never noticed it. Laura was behind me as I followed Paul down a well-lit corridor toward a fire door at the back of the courtroom. He paused at the door and turned to me.
“Gareth, we’ll meet again soon to tidy everything away. But well done chap, that’s a real result.” We shook hands. I didn’t want to say anything as the lump in my throat was threatening to overwhelm me. I looked at Laura, wanting to give her another hug, but I knew if I did I would lose it completely. We all exchanged handshakes again, and I blinked to keep the tears at bay. Laura didn’t bother, and I could see them gathering in the corner of her eyes.
With a flourish, Paul pushed the fire door open, and I stepped out into the sunshine.
I kept my head down as Andy accelerated the car hard out of the courtroom’s rear car park. As Paul had said, the small crowd of journalists in front of the courtroom didn’t take too much notice of us. I saw one of them raise a camera and take a picture of Andy’s car, but other than that they paid us no attention at all.
Jacob was in the back seat of the car, at his own insistence. I’d tried to get him to sit in the front, but he wasn’t having it at all.
“Where to then, Paul?” Andy asked me as he made his way through the traffic. “I think a drink is called for, don’t you?” I thought for a few moments before replying.
“How about The Buck?” I said. Andy glanced across at me before returning his eyes to the road in front of him.
“Are you sure?” he asked. The Buck was the pub that Jennifer had been drinking at on the night she’d died. For some reason, I’d not been in there at all in the period in between her death and my imprisonment. I’d been past it many times, but never crossed the threshold.
“Yeah, please. I mean, if that’s okay with both of you?” I realised too late that going there might be just as difficult for them as it could be for me.
“Fine by me,” Jacob leaned across the back of my seat and clapped me on the shoulder. “But the first round’s on you.” Both he and Andy laughed as I patted my pockets, pretending to look for a wallet they both knew wasn’t there.
We spent the rest of the short journey in silence. I looked out of the
window as the streets of Norwich flashed past. People, lots of people going about their business, whatever that business was. It all looked so normal but at the same time, so alien. I almost asked Andy to stop at one point just so I could walk up and down the street for a moment or two, because I could. Andy and Jacob seemed to sense my mood and both remained silent, allowing me some space to think. I had a lot to think about.
Twenty minutes later, Andy eased his car into space just down the road from The Buck. I climbed out of the car and stood on the pavement, looking around and breathing deeply as Jacob climbed out of the back seat. The three of us set off down the pavement toward the pub, and I noticed a bunch of fresh flowers tied to a tree. It was pretty much at the spot where Jennifer had died. Jacob and I stopped to look at them while Andy carried on walking.
“Dad left them here this morning,” I heard Jacob whisper in my ear. “Every time he comes into Norwich he brings some fresh ones.” I looked up at Andy as he paused outside the pub. He didn’t look back at me, but at the river on the other side of the road. I looked at Jacob, lost for words. He shrugged his shoulders at me. “Come on mate, let’s get a pint inside you. It’s been a while.”
As we waited for the barmaid in the pub, I looked around the interior and wondered where Jennifer had been sitting the night she died. It was bizarre, I can’t think of another way of describing it. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, imagining hearing her laughter echoing around the inside of the pub. This was a far cry from The Heartsease. It was a decent place for a start. The building must have been hundreds of years old, and I thought for a moment about how many generations of drinkers had spent their hard-earned money inside. How many convicted murderers had decided to have their first pint as free men in here? Maybe I was the first one?
Andy, Jacob and I sat at a small round table near a bay window that looked out over the road outside, and across the river to a row of boats moored on the opposite side. I looked at the pint in front of me, the condensation on the outside of the glass, and the tiny bubbles spiralling their way up the amber liquid. I picked up the glass and took a small sip, wanting to down it in one but not trusting my stomach.
“Cheers, gents,” I said in a quiet voice. They both took their glasses and clinked them off mine before replying.
“Cheers.” It was a strangely muted celebration. When the second pint came my way, along with a diet coke for Andy, Jacob proposed a proper toast.
“What shall we drink to?” Andy asked me. I thought for a moment.
“I think we should drink to justice.” I picked up my glass, enjoying the cold sensation on my fingers. “To blind justice.” They both raised their glasses and repeated my words.
“To blind justice.”
I sat in the back of the car for the drive from Norwich to Sheringham, much to Jacob’s disappointment. The only way I could persuade him was to say I wanted to sleep on the way back. The two pints I’d had in the pub had knocked me for six, or at least that’s what I’d told him. I spent the journey with my eyes closed, pretending to sleep while thinking about the future. I had no idea what I would do. I couldn’t go back to my flat, not with the tenants, and I didn’t think that throwing them out of what was now their home was the right thing to do. There was also the issue of the Romanians to deal with. In my mind, being found not guilty of Robert’s murder would get me off the hook with them. That would only work if they followed the same logic I was trying to follow though, and there was no guarantee of that. They could decide that as I was last man standing as it were, the debt would stay with me. I’d have to cross that bridge if I came to it, though. For the immediate future, I didn’t have many places I could stay. Andy had offered me a bed for as long as I needed it, and I was sure that Tommy would put me up if necessary. Even Jacob had offered me his spare room, but when he’d said that in the pub earlier on I got the impression he wasn’t that keen. I didn’t know his other half, and while the idea of staying with two gay men didn’t bother me in the slightest, something about Jacob’s tone made me think twice about accepting the offer.
It took about an hour to get to Sheringham, and Jacob and I said goodbye in the car park in front of the small block of flats that Andy now lived in. We promised each other we’d catch up soon, grab a few beers and chew the fat properly. He hugged me before he left, and I was reminded how well built he was.
Andy’s flat was in a two storey block with a sign outside advertising the fact there were a couple of flats available for the semi-retired. Not quite sheltered housing, but not far off it. I followed Andy through the communal hallway, wondering why he’d decided to move here, to this flat. He was hardly ready for retirement from the look of him. Andy opened the door and led me into the thin hallway of his flat, past an old-fashioned coat stand.
“So why did you choose here, Andy?” I asked as I followed him through to the kitchen. He turned with a smile.
“I’ve always loved Sheringham. We used to come here for family holidays years ago.” His smile faltered just a touch. “When Jennifer was young, you know?” I didn’t know that, but I kept my silence. The flat was bigger than it looked from the outside, and Andy had covered the walls with photographs. As I looked at the photos in the hallway, I realised that they were of a much younger Andy. There were photographs of him, his wife, and Jennifer and Jacob as babies. One of them was taken on the seafront of Sheringham, which had changed little over the last twenty or so years. Further back toward the front door were even earlier photographs, Andy in cricket whites wielding a bat. I took a step back to look at the earlier photographs, interested in what he looked like when he was my age. There was one of his cricket team, all smiling, with a young man front and centre holding a trophy on his lap. I scanned the faces in the black and white picture, looking for Andy. I found him in the back row with one of his colleague's arms draped across his shoulders. Both men had broad grins on their faces, and eyes full of promise.
“That was the championships, when my school won the ESCA One Day Cup,” I heard Andy say over my shoulder. I turned, frowning at him. “Sorry, English Schools’ Cricket Association,” he continued. “I think they’re still going, even now. 1971 that picture was taken, though. A long time ago.” The next picture along was a close-up of a young Andy, cricket bat angled backwards as he waited for a ball to be bowled. A real action shot. There was something off about the picture, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. “Do you want a cup of tea?” Andy interrupted my thoughts.
“Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you,” I replied, following Andy into the kitchen. As he rummaged through the cupboards, I looked around the small but functional space.
“Have you got a dog, Andy?” I asked him, pointing at a bowl of water on a mat by the back door of the kitchen.
“Yeah, I’ve had her for a while now,” he replied, putting two mugs on the granite worktop. “I got her from a rescue centre not long after Jen died. Bit of company, you know?” The next words Andy said cut me like a knife. “I think you’d stopped coming round by then.”
I looked at him, wondering for a second if he was having a dig or just making a statement. He didn’t look at me, but carried on making the tea. I decided that he was just making conversation, or at least that’s what I hoped.
“Where is the dog anyway?” I asked, looking around. I couldn’t see or hear one anywhere, and there couldn’t be that many places for one to hide.
“Jacob’s other half has been looking after her while we’ve been at court the last few days. She’s getting on, and I didn’t want to leave the poor old girl on her own all day.” Andy’s face softened and the sad expression I remembered so well returned. I realised that he was going to have to face yet another bereavement at some point soon.
“I really appreciate you putting me up, Andy,” I said when we were both sitting at the small table in his kitchen. He shook his head in reply.
“Not at all, you stay as long as you need to.” He looked relaxed, comfortable, quite at ease wit
h the whole situation. “And I mean that. I don’t want you thinking you have got nowhere to stay, anywhere you’re not welcome.” He reached across the table and gripped my hand, looking at me intently. “I’m so pleased you’re out, Gareth. A bloody travesty, that’s what it was.”
I’d figured that I’d stay with Andy for perhaps a day or two. A week at the very most. Just until I got myself together. Looking at him now, he seemed quite happy for me to be here. I sipped the tea, relishing the fact that it was made with decent teabags and not the cheap rubbish that was the only thing you could get in prison.
“Thank you,” I said, almost in a whisper. “That means a lot.” Andy didn’t reply, but stared at his tea. We sat in silence for a few moments, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I tried to think about the future, what I would do now that I was out of prison. I’d have to find somewhere to live for a start, somewhere of my own. I wasn’t sure how long I could stay with Andy for, despite his offer. A week was probably about the longest that I’d be comfortable with. As if he was reading my thoughts, Andy spoke.
“So what are your plans then, Gareth?”
“I really don’t know, to be honest,” I replied. “Sitting here having a cup of tea with you is a bit of a surprise, that’s for sure.”
“I bet it is,” Andy laughed. “Bit of a turn up for the books, that was.” That was the understatement of the century.
Blind Justice Page 31
