“Adam was a lovely boy. Foolish, as it turned out. Drinking and driving, but seventeen and foolish, not old and wilfully so. I liked him and he was good for Tally, took her out of herself. She started to go out, meet people. Behave like a normal teenager. After he died I thought we’d have a repetition of that time after Jack but she just became very quiet. Withdrawn for a time and by the time she went off to Sheffield I thought she got over it. Then there was that stupid incident with that Robert Principle and I wondered at the time if that was related. If it was in some way like her obsession with Zack after he had died.
“But that night. The night Adam crashed his car, it was almost as though she knew before it happened that something had gone wrong. As though things had been too good and she anticipated disaster.
*
When Tally was sixteen she fell in love with Adam and for a brief while her world was warm and uncomplicated. The colours that played and sang in Tally’s mind were clear and blue like summer skies with the brightness of yellow and cool green to bath and gild her thoughts. Adam’s hands touching her skin were smooth and gentle and, although he was a little older than she was, his experience was about as limited. Discovering each other was a pastime that absorbed every moment that they could snatch free of exams and family and the demands of friends until one night in Adam’s bedroom, careful to be quiet so his brother would not hear, Tally and Adam finally made love.
Adam’s bed was narrow, forcing their bodies close and the need for quiet made their movements slow and languid, hands exploring, gentle and careful until Adam could hold out no longer. “I want you Tally. I want you now.”
She rolled over onto her back feeling so awkward as he positioned himself above her and bent his head to kiss her face, hesitant now, sensing her sudden reserve. There was nothing elegant about sex, Tally decided, but it wasn’t only that. Memories of Miles clung to her body and pierced her mind and though the wetness between her legs told her that she was ready her mind screamed its protests and her heart thumped so hard that her ribs cramped and hurt. Please, she wanted to say, just get it over with. It’s nothing personal, I just don’t think I’m going to like the first time. Instead, she shifted her position slightly, rubbing the inside of her thigh against his flank and trying to tell him without the clumsiness of words that she would be grateful if he would do it now before she changed her mind.
The earth didn’t move when Adam entered her, nor did it tremble when, after a few quick thrusts he moaned in frustration and came, his body rigid for an instant and then soft as her gathered her close, apologising and trying to ask her what he should be doing next.
But Tally was exultant. She had done it. She had allowed someone to do this to her and she had wanted it and now that it was over and Adams body moved against hers she wanted more. Letting go of Miles, she thought, was a milestone in her life. The bad pun raising giggles in her throat that had Adam shushing her in panic. But he had caught her mood and he laughed with her not knowing what was so funny and not caring either.
“I love you,” Tally whispered. “I love you so much.” He didn’t answer but fondled her breasts gently then moved his hand slowly down to stroke between her legs. “I want you again,” he told her and this time was better, much better, spoiled only by the need to go home.
The night Adam died was about a week after. The weather had broken as British summers so often do and a cold light rain had begun to fall in the early afternoon. Evening showed no sign of it stopping and the roads, after two weeks of constant sun, were greasy with burned rubber and June dust.
Adam had called to give her the good news that he had passed his test. He was going for a drive with his friends in the second hand car his parents had given him and they would all call round to see Tally on the way home.
The evening stretched on and Adam failed to arrive. Tally was angry, but more than that, she was concerned. What if something had happened to Adam? She didn’t think that she could bear it if it had. And when the telephone rang late that night she let Rose answer it, knowing in her heart what the call would be.
Rose was white faced when she came through to tell her child that Adam had been killed outright, but Tally seemed unable to respond. She sat in her chair, very still as though she dare not even breath for fear of shattering some long fought for calm and she whispered something, too softly for Rose to hear. “Archangel Jack,” Tally said.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Monday brought breakthrough, of sorts. Alec was notified that Sheffield had an address for Robert Principle. He was still working in the building trade as a scaffolder, had a wife and a couple of kids. A few points for speeding picked up over the years and an arrest for possession, but otherwise no police record. Alec left at ten that morning.
Two in the afternoon found him loitering with intent outside of Principle’s place of work trying to pick the man out from the rest of the work crew. He felt a certain wariness coming to meet the man who might be Jack Chalmers, though now he was here some instinct told him that he was barking up entirely the wrong tree. To think that a man earning his living the way Robert Principle earned his keep could drop everything as often as he wanted and make the four hour drive to Sheffield just didn’t ring true and that was not even taking account of the fact that the man now had a wife and kids.
Somewhat reluctantly now, he made his way to the site hut and made himself known to the manager.
“I can’t believe Rob’s done oat wrong,” Alec was told. “What do the police want with him?”
“I’m not here because of something he’s done wrong,” Alec said. “It’s part of a missing person’s inquiry. Robert Principle’s name came up as having known the missing party.” He awarded the manager a wry, apologetic smile, hoping to get him on side before admitting in the most confidential of manners that “frankly, we’re clutching at straws here, but if you could spare Rob for a few minutes, it would help me out.”
“Missing persons is it?” The man frowned and Alec didn’t know if he was believed or not, but whatever the site supervisor might have felt he got on the radio and called Robert Principle down.
“Something up, guv?” Robert asked.
Alec knew he didn’t have his man. Robert was a thickset man with a weathered face and bare brown arms even in this foul weather.
“I’ll leave you to it,” the manager said. “But try not to keep him too long. We’ve a schedule you know.”
Robert frowned, clearly puzzled as the man left the portacabin. “What’s up?” he asked again. “You police or summat?” A worried look flitted across his face. “Nothing’s happened?” he asked. “To Jan or the kids, I mean?”
“No,” Alec hurried to reassure. Nothing’s happened, but because your married now I didn’t want to talk to you at home. I’ve told your boss this is part of a missing person’s investigation, someone you used to know. It’s not so far from the truth.”
Robert Principle still regarded him with some suspicion, but he sat down in his boss’s chair and waited for Alec to go on.
“Tallitha Palmer,” Alec said. “You knew her when she studied here.”
At first he looked as though he might deny it. A look very close to fear passed across his eyes and got Alec wondering. This was not a man who frightened easily, he’d bet on that.
“I knew her. Even went out for a bit. Why?”
“She told people you were her brother,” Alec said. “I find it hard to believe that anyone took her word on this, but apparently it was believed.”
Robert looked away. “Oh,” he said. “That. Her idea of a joke. I went along with it for a bit because I fancied her. But it got too stupid. So I told her it had have to stop.”
His gaze lifted and once more met Alec’s he said simply. “I liked her. We met in the union bar. I had friends studying engineering but in the end the lass was a bit too weird. And her so called friends...” he shook his head. “There was this one guy, nothing to look at him. Tall but skinny, you know. He came up
to me one night when I was walking home. Told me I’d best leave her alone or he’d know why. I near laughed in his face. I could take on two like him, one hand behind my back or so I thought. This night, before I knew what was going down he’d got me pinned against the wall and was beating seven shades out of my hide.” He half smiled, clearly embarrassed even after all this time. “The cops found me and I ended up in hospital for the next three days. Told them I’d been mugged. I mean look at me, You think I could admit a shrimp like that one took me down. I’d have been a laughing stock.”
“How many did you say it took?” Alec asked. “Been me I’d have claimed at least three.”
“I said three maybe four,” he said. “But I couldn’t get a proper look at their faces. They were never caught any road,” he grinned then and Alec felt the man’s relief that after all these years he had finally come clean and not met ridicule. “You know this man, don’t you?” Robert said. “That’s who you’re after. I always knew he were some kind of psycho.” He sat back in the chair, content now that he’d not been beaten by just an ordinary man. The sat forward again and asked anxiously. “You won’t have to tell the wife about this?”
Alec shook his head. “Like I told your boss,” he said. “Missing persons. Did Tally finish with you after that?”
He shook his head. “I dumped her,” he said. “She knew who’d done it, never even came to see me in the hospital. So, I thought, that’s it. Over.”
Chapter Thirty
“It’s like trying to lay hands on a ghost,” Naomi commented. They had met for dinner, Alec, Naomi, Simon and Nat to pool what little information they had on the mysterious Jack. Alec was tired from driving and oddly depressed.
“And we can’t even hire a decent medium,” he commented through another mouthful of beer. He gave up on wine when he was really tired, trading grape for grain.
Nat was thoughtful. “I don’t recall that she mentioned him to me at all,” he admitted. “Or if she did, I didn’t take much notice, but most of our conversations were either work related or just social chat. Tally was never one for personal stuff, at least, not with me. I don’t know what she talked to Jon about, but Jon was so damned obsessed I’d have guessed their pillow talk was about framing the best shots” He raised his glass in Simon’s direction. “No offence.”
“What will you do with the likenesses?” Naomi wanted to know. “How good were they? How close.”
“Not bad considering.” Alec had both Nat and the two volunteers from the advice bureau meet with the police artist. “Basic details are alike. Nat’s view is slightly fatter than the others. Shirley swore his jaw was squarer. We’re going to pass it on to computer graphics and see if they can come up with a composite.”
Naomi nodded. It was an advance that was just coming on line when she had left the force. One she’d really have liked to have observed. “Then the local papers?”
“Hopefully sometime next week, yes. Until then...And with the lady herself incommunicado...”
“Can’t you get Interpol involved?” Nat asked.
Both Alec and Naomi laughed.
“Hey? What did I say?”
“Resources,” Naomi explained. “Alec’s already stretched bringing the computer experts on board. Nothing serious enough has happened to get Interpol involved in tracking down Tally or even talking to the met for that matter. It’s still local and almost domestic. We just have to hope the piece in the paper brings something. Jogs memories.” She shrugged. “Frankly, we don’t even know how local he is. He drifts in and out of Tally’s life, but there are quite long periods when he isn’t there. I mean” she said to Simon, “you and Tally went weeks without him interfering. It was almost as if he wasn’t here.”
“In which case, it could be a long time before we track him down,” Alec agreed. We just have to hope we’ve scared him off for the time being. My bet is he won’t surface again ’til she comes home.”
“Which is when?” Nat asked.
“According to her agents, sometime next month,” Alec told him. “Apparently she’s not been specific with her plans.”
Nat laughed briefly. “That would be typical of Tally,” he noted. “Always doing her own thing.”
Simon shifted in his seat and Naomi sensed he had something important to say. Wine had loosened his tongue, relaxed him enough to ask Nat the question that had been unanswered since the first time they had met.
“What happened at Mamolo,” He asked. “You’ve hedged this every time I’ve asked. But you feel it’s important or weird or significant some way. Maybe it has a bearing on the way Tally’s acting now.”
Nat was silent for so long that Naomi thought that Simon must have really given offence. Finally he said slowly. “It affected her. That I will believe. It scarred all of us in ways I can’t begin to explain to anyone that wasn’t there, but I don’t believe it has anything to do with Jack.”
“What did happen?” Naomi asked.
“Something I didn’t understand. Something I still don’t understand.”
How had they escaped from Mamolo?
“We were terrified,” he said. “Jon told us that he had given our position away. We heard them running, we heard gunfire, we heard shouting and we knew that they were not far behind us. We ran. What else was there to do? None of us thought that we could possibly get away. We had seen what they had done to the man in the alleyway and knew that they would treat us the same way. I have never been so scared in my entire life. We headed back to where we thought to be the main road must be, hoping that the convoy or at least the tail end of it might still be visible. But we knew really that the convoy would be long gone, they would not have waited for us. How could they? There were too many other lives to be saved, women, children, and civilians, people who didn’t ask to be there in the first place.
“We just ran blindly, Tally had taken the lead. I don’t know why but she seemed to know the way to go. We just followed, there was no time to ask questions. She just shouted to come this way and this way, and suddenly just ahead of us there was the road and at the same time we were aware that behind us the pursuit was closing and that they were firing weapons. A bullet clipped the building next to me, another came so close to hitting John, another inch or two and that would have been it. I heard Tally shout something, but I couldn’t make out the words and then behind us there was this incredible noise, something roaring and shrieking. I thought at the time it had to be some kind of explosion, but the sound of it was all wrong, there was a sheer, blind fury to it that made it almost animal. And there was a bright light, the brightest thing I have ever seen in my life. And we heard the people behind us shouting and screaming and running the back the other way and more gunshots, rapid, random fire this time, not at us, but at that...brightness. If we had been scared, I suddenly realised that they were more terrified than we had ever been. Tally was still shouting and then Jon yelled that he could see a truck up ahead and that it was slowing down. And I looked back the way we come and I saw it. Bright light towering above us and spreading out like wings. I’m not a superstitious man, I’m not a believer, but if you ask me to give it a name I would have said it was an angel.”
Pat was such that down to earth man, he was clearly embarrassed to say something like this but he spoke with such sincerity that they were compelled to take him seriously.
“I’ve heard of similar things,” Simon said. “There are stories all over the world about people who see things in times of stress. There was the Angel of the Somme and those strange clouds at Gallipolis that are supposed to have swallowed an entire troop of men. There were bright lights in the sky reported by pilots from...oh I suppose World War one onward, Foo Fighters I think they called them. It’s the way the mind response to stress, to fear I suppose.”
Nat shook his head. “I know the stories,” he said, “and I never believed any of them until Mamolo. Whatever it was it saved our lives, it gave us time to get away. The truck driver saw us in his mirrors and h
e slowed down enough for us to run after him and climb aboard. Truthfully, in his position I wouldn’t have stopped for anybody, he was already way behind the main convoy and had only a hand gun and a half dozen rounds. But he did and we made it back.” he grinned wryly, “and the rest as they say, is history.”
“Why did you never report this?” said Simon asked. “It’s an amazing story, the public would have lapped it up.”
Pat just shrugged. “It didn’t seem right,” he said. “Jon just joked that he wasn’t ready to be a prophet yet, and the rest of us knew exactly what he meant. And he and Tally split just after that, we still worked with her, but their relationship just fizzled out. And, anyway, I think we felt that it would have distracted from the real story. Things were happening that had to be reported, we were lucky enough to get away, to hve harped on about what people might have called a miracle seemed cheap and tacky. People were dying all around us, what made us so special? And then, only a few weeks later, Jon was dead and it felt like that “angel” or whatever it was. After all it only bought us borrowed time”
Chapter Thirty-One
Early March arrived with the first promise of spring. Hyacinths in a glazed bowl perfumed Naomi’s living room, their subtle fragrance vying with the more robust scents that wafted through the open kitchen door. Alec was creating. Something Sicilian, so he reckoned and Naomi, having been ousted, was listening to the television news.
No progress had been made as regards the Tally Palmer problem and Alec was still no closer in identifying the mysterious Jack. His image in the local papers and the regional news had brought a brief rash of calls. These had been followed up but Jack still remained as elusive as ever. The only compensation being that he had taken no further interest in either Simon or Naomi and they had allowed Jack’s influence to recede into the background. Naomi remained wary, getting George to check the road before she left the cab and he still waited to see her safe inside. At other times, she found herself straining her ears for the sound of his voice when she was out alone or the pad of his footsteps behind her – though if she were truthful, she doubted that she would recognise Jack’s presence unless he spoke or got close enough to touch.
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