by David Belbin
‘I don’t know how long I’ll be.’
‘I’ll stick at the end of the road for a few mins.’
It wasn’t as though they were friends, or Bob was in Nick’s debt, but if this were prison, what Bob was doing would make him Nick’s mate for life. Bob drove three doors down and parked. Polly answered the door.
‘Can’t keep away, can you?’ she said. Her manner mingled mockery and affection. It annoyed him, because she was right, he still wanted her. Her short, blonde hair was mussed like she’d just got out of bed. Until a few days ago, this woman had let him do every dirty thing his imprisoned mind had imagined. And more.
‘Can I come in?’
‘I suppose. You’re expected,’ Polly said. She looked at him as if he was a wounded animal that one of the kids had brought in. ‘Are you sure about this?’
Without answering, he followed her into the living room, where Polly resumed ironing one of the kids’ grey polo shirts for school.
‘Where is he?’
‘Ed’s on the loo. He’ll be down in a minute.’ She finished the shirt and put down the iron. ‘What do you want, Nick?’
‘I want to know why you’re with him.’
Polly shook her head, then reached over to touch Nick’s face. She stroked his cheeks and felt under his chin. He couldn’t tell whether she meant this to resemble a doctor’s examination or a caress.
‘You’re filling out,’ she said. ‘I didn’t notice at first. Thought you looked the way you always do. Then, when I found out you’d been inside, it made sense. Guys inside, they don’t eat well, but they work out a lot. They get these hollow faces, dark lines below the eyes, like ghosts. Ed was like that the first time he came out. This time, too. And he’s hardly put the weight in his face back on. But you, you’re a softboy, aren’t cha? Mister university graduate who used to go out with an MP.’
‘Who told you that?’ Nick asked.
‘I did,’ Ed said, doing up his flies as he walked in. ‘Got the word at the cab office. Still in touch with her, are you?’
Nick didn’t reply.
‘I’ll bet you are. One or two looks you gave me when I talked about her, they make a bit of sense now. Jealous of what you’d lost, eh? Still, she were nought in’t sack compared to our Poll, was she?’
Polly gave them both a strained look.
‘Ne’er mind that threesome we talked about, let’s go the whole hog, get Sarah round for a foursome – cocks and cunt all over t’shop. What do you say?’
Bob’s knife felt heavy in Nick’s pocket. He didn’t know if Ed’s exaggeration of his Nottingham accent was deliberate or unconscious. Either way, Nick ought to get out. Yet he owed something to Polly, and to Sarah.
‘Listen,’ he said to Polly, ‘there are things you need to know.’
‘Oh yeah? And you know them, do you?’
He ignored her hostility. ‘I spoke to Sarah Bone about Ed. She told me about the night of the party, when he was released. Has Ed told you about that?’
Polly was silent. So was Ed. Maybe Nick had him worried.
‘He made a pass at Sarah and she brushed it off. No big deal, she thought. Only later, when she was about to leave, he grabbed her and dragged her into his hotel room.’
‘Really?’ Polly didn’t do sarcasm well, but he recognised the attempt.
‘Really. He tried to rape her, but she fought him off.’
‘You seen the size of her, and me?’ Ed said. ‘If I’d wanted to rape her, I would’ve done.’
Nick tried to remember the detail of what Sarah had told him and continued talking to Polly.
‘He knocked her over. She managed to knee him in the groin. So he couldn’t perform. He settled for scaring her, instead. And he told her a story, something I’m going to tell you now. Then I’ll go. Ed told Sarah she’d made a fool of herself. He did kill your brother, and your sister-in-law, both of them. And this is the man that you’re seeing instead of me.’
Polly stared at him for a moment. He thought he saw shock, then disdain, then disgust. But he had never been good at reading her.
‘Are you back with her?’ she asked, finally.
‘I’m not with anyone,’ Nick said.
She spoke to her boyfriend. ‘I can’t deal with this.’
Nick turned to Ed, ready to respond if the bigger man thumped him. Ed merely pointed to the front of the house. Nick followed him out.
‘You believe that crap?’ Ed asked, in the same matey tone he’d used earlier, but with less menace. ‘I mean, which is more likely, Nickyboy – that I murdered two people and got away with it thanks to Sarah Bone, or that I was grateful, so I fucked her, then chucked her when I got bored.’
‘You’re the one talking crap,’ Nick said, and immediately regretted sinking to his level.
‘Oh aye? You’re lucky I’m treating you so nice, pretty boy. Polly says you treated her right, near enough. So you and me, we’re not enemies – not mates, either. Before you get out of here, I’m going to give you a word to the wise.’
‘Go on, then,’ Nick said.
‘When you were with our Sarah, fifteen year ago or whenever – did you keep the lights on?’
‘What are you on about?’
‘Eyesight good, is it? Dunt matter. I’ll bet you went down on her.’
‘Where is this heading?’ Nick asked, trying to sneer but sounding like a teacher, even to himself.
‘Remember the little purple birth mark she’s got, right hand side, just where her pubes end, couple of inches from the belly button. Shape of Ireland, size of a new fivepenny piece. Do you remember that?’
When Nick didn’t answer, Ed gave him a wide grin.
‘Thought you would,’ he said.
28
Before going to bed, Sarah set the answering machine to activate rather than let the phone ring. When she got up and checked the machine, there were already seven messages waiting. She left them for later. The next call came when she was getting out of the shower. Sarah stood in her bedroom, still dripping, as she answered it. The view from her window was obscured by a huge elm tree which protected her privacy. Through the branches she could see that it was a beautiful, sunny day.
‘Sarah, it’s Andrew. I called to wish you good luck.’
‘Nice of you, if just a tad hypocritical.’
Andrew laughed. ‘Either way, will you be in town on Saturday?’
By ‘town’ he meant London. ‘I should think so,’ Sarah said.
‘Then why don’t we have dinner rather than lunch this time,’ Andrew suggested. ‘The Sugar Club?’
‘I haven’t eaten there yet,’ Sarah admitted. ‘Okay, see if you can get a table. Dinner’s on me if I win.’
‘I’ll keep you to that. Good luck.’
Sarah dusted herself with talcum powder, rolled on deodorant. Today would be a long day and looked like being a hot one, too. She checked her messages then returned some calls. Nick hadn’t rung, as he’d promised to. He wasn’t a busy man. If he hadn’t called there would be a reason. She left her mobile turned on. If he didn’t call by lunch, she would ring to make sure he was coming to the party tonight.
It was a perfect first of May. Cherry blossoms bloomed. The sun sparkled on the roofs of expensive cars. Change was in the air. Sarah drove past last-minute leafleters delivering ballot-card-shaped reminders. They were all working for her side. At campaign headquarters optimism was rife. However, the smiles were being worn because everybody expected a Labour victory, not a Bone victory. Sarah wished she could share their exhilaration. She began to practise her good loser demeanour.
‘You said you’d give me until the election.’
‘I changed my mind,’ Nick explained to his brother. ‘I decided to bring my retirement forward, on your advice. I’m mad to risk going back inside.’
‘You are. But it’s an election night and I’ve told Caroline I’m going to the Labour party do. Nas’s told her hubby the same thing.’
‘I thought you�
��d told her it was over.’
Joe shrugged, indicating the hopelessness of denying his sexual impulses. ‘Stuart’s covering the phones. You can use his car. One last time, please. Otherwise, I’ll have to drive myself and Nas will give me hell. God knows how many chances we’ll get once the baby’s born.’
Loads, if Nick knew anything about his brother. But he relented, promising Joe that he would turn up at the office later. The risk of being caught was negligible, especially since he had Joe’s ID. Sarah had invited him to the party, but he wasn’t comfortable about going, and didn’t fancy watching the TV election coverage on his own. If he pulled a long shift, he could follow it all on the radio as it happened. Nick meant to stay up until he found out how Sarah did.
He’d not returned her call yesterday. He didn’t understand why she’d lied to him about Ed. Sarah had slept with Ed and he had slept with Polly, a sad synchronicity. Nick must learn to live with both the women he wanted fancying a psychotic slaphead as much as or more than they did him. Ed had an animal force, a brutish intelligence that must be a total contrast to the wimpy-sounding social worker Sarah was with before. Ed was also an expert manipulator. Nick could just about see how Sarah might have given him a sympathy fuck as soon as he was released, then kicked him into touch, leading Ed to exaggerate the rest. If Sarah lost, Nick would forgive her for lying about Ed and take her off on that holiday, see if they could start things up again. And if, by some chance, she won, it would be over. He would finish his GCSE tuitions then make a new start somewhere else.
‘I’ll be back in at six,’ he told Joe.
‘Start earlier if you want.’
‘Better not,’ Nick said, then fed his brother a credible fib to cover up the absurdity of what he was about to do. ‘I’ve got an appointment with my probation officer.’
The appointment wasn’t until tomorrow, but it was a plausible lie. The best lies were the ones that stuck closest to the truth.
Election days can be very slow. The worst job was standing outside a polling station and taking numbers from voters to check against the electoral register. Sarah, as the candidate, wasn’t allowed to do this. Soon, canvassers would call on friendly voters to remind them that they hadn’t voted yet. This was called ‘knocking up’ and didn’t really start until late afternoon. To remind people earlier could be counterproductive. Voting numbers would be checked against the electoral register and the party’s record of voting intentions, so that only Labour homes would be visited.
If you were the candidate, time ought to pass more quickly. There were plenty of legitimate things to do, even if it was only saluting the volunteers as they went out to deliver the day-of-poll leaflet. But every ten minutes felt like an hour. Sarah travelled to and from each set of committee rooms, smiling all the time, trying to project an optimism she didn’t feel or expect party workers to share. She’d like to catch a nap but knew that she was too wound up to sleep. So she stopped at the main committee rooms for another mug of tea and prepared to rally the troops.
In a good committee room, time never hangs heavily. Nobody sticks around. The organiser gets workers in and out quickly and the candidate can be a hindrance. After a few minutes of bland conversation, Sarah went for a pee and came back to find an empty front room.
‘Sent out the first lot knocking up,’ Barry Griffiths, who was running the show, told her. He turned to a new arrival. ‘You’ve just missed ’em’, he said. ‘But if you hurry down the road . . .’
‘Sorry,’ said a familiar voice. ‘I have to go to work in a few minutes. I did all those leaflets you sent me out with. Thought I’d bring you back the spares.’
‘Good lad,’ Barry said. ‘Say hello to the candidate before you go. Sarah, this is . . . I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.’
‘Nick,’ Sarah said, smiling awkwardly. ‘I’ll walk you out.’
Once they were outside, she asked Nick. ‘Time for a quick drink?’
‘I can make time if you can.’
She took him to the pub round the corner, where Sarah was a familiar sight and nobody bothered her. Sarah sat at a table while Nick bought a tomato juice for her and a half of bitter for himself.
‘You didn’t need to come out today,’ she said.
‘I haven’t missed helping out in an election since I’ve been old enough to vote. I figured you needed more help than the other buggers.’
‘Thanks,’ Sarah sipped her drink. It was insipid without Worcester sauce, but she didn’t want to interrupt the conversation by asking for some. ‘I was expecting you to call.’
‘I meant to but . . . things on my mind.’
‘Did I hear you say you were going to work?’
‘Joe persuaded me to do one last day. The election’s got us busy.’
‘I hope you’ll come to the party tonight.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Nick said. ‘My membership’s been lapsed for five years and most people there would know why.’
‘Time to start rehabilitating yourself, maybe.’
He looked away and she reached out to him, squeezing his left wrist with her right hand. ‘Nick, this is me. Tell me what’s on your mind.’
‘This isn’t the place. I said I’d start a shift at six. I ought to ring for a cab.’
‘I’ll take you,’ Sarah said. ‘I’m a spare part today anyway.’
They left their drinks unfinished. Cane Cars was only five minutes’ drive at this time of day, so Sarah went as slowly as she could. ‘Please talk to me, Nick. There’s something wrong. What is it?’
‘I went to see Ed Clark yesterday.’
‘Oh.’ Whatever this was, she knew it would be bad. ‘And?’
‘Ed said you were lovers. Described the purple birth mark on your groin.’
Sarah shivered, then exhaled. ‘I didn’t tell you the whole thing. It was too . . . ’ She wanted to say upsetting but that wasn’t the right word. ‘Degrading.’
‘It’s your business, not mine.’
Behind her, somebody sounded their horn. Sarah was forced to drive on. ‘I’m just going to pull over for a minute.’
They were on the edge of some playing fields, half of which had been replaced with ugly, new Housing Association builds.
‘He ripped my knickers off, Nick. He had my dress up round my waist. The room was brightly lit, so he got a good look, yeah. Then I kneed him in the groin. How could you think that I’d give myself to a neanderthal like him?’
Although she’d stopped driving, Nick still stared ahead. ‘You knocked yourself out to get him out of prison.’
‘Because I thought he was innocent!’
Her mobile rang. Sarah snapped a ‘hello’, then recognised her party leader’s voice. Taken aback, she stumbled out an apology for her abruptness. Tony pooh-poohed this in his most earnest, blokey manner. He told her how much he appreciated the work Sarah had done over the last two years. ‘I admire you sticking with your seat. It was the right thing to do, but I know you were given . . . options. If things work out for us tonight and they don’t work out for you, I want you to know this: we’ll find you a role. A good one.’
She didn’t need to tell Nick who she’d been talking to. When the call ended, he sounded impressed.
‘Call you often, does he?’
Sarah shook her head. ‘First time ever. Do you believe me about Ed?’
She turned to face him and they looked each other straight in the eye, only a few inches apart. ‘How can I not believe you?’ he said.
This was not the moment to kiss him, though Sarah wanted to. But it was their most intimate moment since they stopped being lovers.
‘Suppose I’d better drive you back,’ she said.
Nick only spoke again when she was almost at the cab firm.
‘Something I haven’t told you. Something important.’
‘Wait a mo.’ She didn’t want to end the conversation but the road outside Cane Cars was double yellowed and busy. Sarah turned into the cab firm car park, where th
ere was one space, which she took. At least they couldn’t be seen here. Words tumbled out of Nick.
‘The woman I was seeing until recently . . . it wasn’t serious, but you know her. I picked her up in the cab from one of your surgeries.’
Sarah could feel it coming, knew at once who her rival was.
‘It was entirely physical. You can’t imagine what it’s like, not having any for five years. Anyway, it was Polly. Polly Bolton.’
‘You were screwing that?’ Sarah shook her head in disbelief.
‘That’s not all of it. I went round to see her the other day. I wanted to warn her that Ed’s driving a taxi for my brother. Only, she already knew. Thing is, and this is hard to believe, she’s seeing Ed.’
‘Polly’s got back with Ed? That’s beyond bizarre.’
‘You knew that they were together before?’
‘I only just found out. How close are they, have you any idea?’
‘They’re living together, as far as I can tell. She’s a hard case, Polly. I told her what you’d told me about Ed. She didn’t give a shit. She says he didn’t do it. She says he told her who did.’
‘If he knew that,’ Sarah said, ‘he’d have told me. Or at the very least he’d have told his solicitor.’
‘I’d better go,’ Nick said, awkwardly leaning over and putting an arm around her. ‘Do you want me to ring you later?’
‘Please. I ought to be at the count by ten. Until then, whatever I do is displacement activity.’
He kissed her on the cheek, then got out of the car. Sarah began to back out of her space, distracted. What could a man like Nick see in a woman like Polly? Had prison coarsened Nick so much? No wonder he’d believed it when he heard that Sarah had been with Ed Clark.
A cab was waiting in the narrow driveway. Sarah held up her hand to indicate that she was on her way out and pulled down the sun visor to keep off the glare. The cab pulled alongside Sarah and she manoeuvred carefully around it to make her way out, not once looking at the driver.
‘What was Sarah Bone doing in the car park?’ Ed Clark asked.
‘No idea,’ Nas said, as Nick put down the paper, which was predicting a comfortable Labour win.
