by Philip Cox
‘It’s Lisa.’
‘Lisa? What’s she done?’
‘She’s dead.’
Sully laughed at first, a short, nervous laugh. He leaned back slightly. ‘She’s what? That’s not very -’ He stopped as he realised Jane was not joking. He stood up and stepped two paces back and leaned one hand on the top of the television set. He rubbed his forehead. ‘I - I - don’t understand. What- what happened?’ he stammered.
Calmly and concisely Jane recounted the events of the night. She was just about to leave for her friend’s hen party when her mobile rang. It was the police - the British Transport Police, to be exact. A Sergeant Green had called to tell her that Lisa had had an accident on the way home from work. She had been hit by a train and was pronounced dead at the scene.
Sully took his hand off the television and rushed back over to Jane. He knelt down again, took the tumbler out of her hand and put his arms round her. A second or two later Jane reciprocated.
‘Oh, Janey, I’m so so sorry,’ he whispered. ‘So sorry.’
He held her tightly for a minute or two, neither of them speaking, until Jane extricated herself. She stood up. ‘It’s late. I need to go to bed,’ she said. ‘There’s a lot for me to do tomorrow.’
‘For us to do, Janey,’ Sully said quietly.
Jane looked at him and smiled. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘For us to do. Let’s get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning, phone in to work. Tell people. Need to go and see Mum, I guess.’
‘You get off to bed. I’ll lock up. I won’t be long.’
Jane walked out to the bathroom, and then went to bed. As she was doing so, Sully checked the front door and windows. Picked up her tumbler, finished off her whisky and took the empty glass in to the kitchen. Switched off the coffee maker, and then wandered back into the lounge. He noticed the television was on standby: they must have forgotten to switch it off when they left for work this morning. He slid his hand across the set as he went over to the light switch: noticing it was still warm he made a mental note to make sure they switched it off properly in future when they went to work.
There was a spare dining chair against the wall where the light switch was situated. Sully sat down on this chair and stared at the empty, darkened living room. He felt numb; as if he had been punched in the guts by a weightlifter. He visualized the happier times he had spent in this room: the noise, the laughter. The fun times he and Jane had spent here on their own; the times Lisa had been over and the three of them had got drunk. Sometimes Lisa would have brought a boyfriend, but most times she was on her own. He knew she had been married before, but she and her husband had split before he and Jane got together. A lot of times it was the three of them; most times it was he and Jane. Sometimes it was he and Lisa. He looked over at the bedroom door and sighed, leaning back so the back of his head touched the wall. Thank God Jane never knew.
After brushing his teeth and gargling with mouthwash he went to bed himself. As he undressed in the darkness he watched Jane lying still under the cover. He was not sure if she was asleep yet. He was not sure how to deal with things, not sure what to say to Jane.
Sully slipped into bed and leaned over to Jane. She was lying, foetal style, with her back to him. ‘Don’t forget, I’m always here for you,’ he whispered, kissing her on the temple.
He lay on his back staring at the ceiling. He was still numb: still not sure how he was going to react when it sunk in; how he should react.
Jane turned over and moved closer to him. She put her arm round his waist and snuggled closer. Sully put his arm round her shoulder and nuzzled her hair. She moved even closer and slowly moved her hand down to below his navel. She fingered his hair and moved her hand lower still. Sully moved slightly: this was unexpected, but felt nice.
He was soon aroused and still without saying anything she climbed on top of him. Sully winced as a fingernail caught some skin as she felt down below her and roughly manoeuvred him inside her. She sat down hard on him, and started to ride him with a rocking motion. Usually in bed Sully took the lead, but this was different. She rode him harder and harder, leaning forward and holding on to the metal frame headboard for support and leverage. The only sound Sully could hear was the loud creaking coming from under the mattress, and the headboard banging on the wall in a regular rhythm. Harder and harder, now not a rocking motion but a succession of hard spasms. Even after Sully came, she continued, her movements getting more and more violent. Sully held onto her thighs; it was now beginning to hurt. Finally she lifted her head back, gave a loud, hoarse cry, then stopped. Still saying nothing, she climbed off, and returned to her original position in the bed.
Sully lay there, again staring at the ceiling, not knowing what to think, or do, or say. The only thought he had was a phrase somebody had said to him once: that people deal with grief in different ways.
And so it went on: through the normal procedures people went through with the death of a family member, Jane reacted in a cool, business-like fashion, not how Sully had anticipated. She travelled up north to see her mother, not that the poor woman had any conception of who Jane was, let alone what she was telling her. She announced one day that she was going to visit Lisa’s ex-husband, a guy called Tom, to give him the news. Sully suggested he accompany her for support, but she insisted on going alone. In fact, most of the formalities she insisted on going through by herself. All this had concerned Sully: after the time they had spent together, he wanted to be there for her, but she had not wanted this. He put this down to her way of dealing with her loss, so decided not to rock the boat. It was only one day when he was sitting at work that he realised that he had not seen her cry over Lisa. Not one solitary tear. She never had been somebody who burst into tears at the drop of a hat, but nevertheless, he had expected something. He prepared himself for the well to burst at some stage in the future, and vowed to be ready when it did.
He expected some emotional reaction when Jane brought home some of Lisa’s personal effects: birth certificate, passport and bank statements. Also, some photographs of the two of them when they were growing up. Lisa rented her place, and her landlord kindly said to Jane that there was no rush to move Lisa’s personal stuff out. He would like to advertise for a new tenant in the New Year: Jane said this would be all right; after all, this gave her almost two months to go through her sister’s things. When Jane brought the effects home, Sully was surprised at how little stuff there was - the box was only slightly larger than a shoe box. He was also slightly surprised that Jane just left the box on top of the dining table, and showed no inclination to go through it. Not with him there, at any rate.
The next day the box was gone. When he asked Jane what had happened to it, she just replied that she had put it away. She didn’t say where.
Sully’s job meant that some days he was able to work from home, just using his laptop. A feature of his job that he and Lisa found useful now and then. One morning, when Jane had left, he started to search for the box. He wanted more than anything else to say goodbye to Lisa personally, and wanted in particular to look at some pictures of her when she was growing up. He looked around Jane’s drawers, carefully replacing anything he had moved, but found nothing. Then it was time for a work conference call. This took over an hour, and Sully never returned to his search.
Jane was clearly dealing with things in her own way; he still needed some form of closure.
*****
Staring into the washroom mirror, he was brought back to the present by Jim Fanning, who had returned to the gents.
‘Sully, we’re waiting for you,’ he called out, sticking his head round the door. ‘Holland’s starting to pace up and down, looking at his watch.’
‘Coming,’ Sully replied, splashing some cold water over his face and following Fanning back into the conference room. Holland gave Sully a disapproving glare as he and Fanning sat down, Sully mumbling an apology.
‘Now we’re all ready,’ Holland said, ‘we can move on to the new B
est Practices I want you all to roll down to your District Managers to implement as a matter of urgency. High penetration rates - and I reiterate that I expect seventy-five percent as a minimum - are of no value if the sales are not compliant and that your advisors are not following the regulator’s guidelines.’
Interesting, Sully, thought: if things were going well, the advisors are our people; if not so well, they are your advisors. Very interesting.
For the rest of the afternoon, Holland droned on and on. Sully’s attention wavered from Lisa to Holland and the rubbish he was spouting, to Jane, and back to Lisa.
The meeting wound up at ten past six and all the delegates hurried to get out of the building. Muttering all sorts of profanity and obscenity about Holland and his ability, they all quickly left the premises and headed for the car park. They said their goodbyes and went to their respective cars. As he turned the ignition key, Sully checked the LCD clock on his dashboard: six twenty-five, so he should be home half seven, quarter to eight at the latest. Jane normally got home around six, so should be preparing dinner. He sent her a brief text to say he was on his way, and then headed off.
His route home was mainly on a main A road, a dual carriageway for most of the journey. Traffic was still relatively busy, and it was raining, so he was not in for a good drive.
As he made his way home, he again found his mind drifting back to Jane’s sister. And to Jane, and how she was coping. And his own guilt. The constant back and forth motion of the windscreen wipers was having a hypnotic effect, and more than once he had to brake hard to avoid running into the car in front as the traffic queued at a roundabout.
He thought again of the day he met Jane, the day they started to become an item, and the day Jane introduced her sister to him. The day he and Jane moved in to the flat, Lisa was there helping them move in. The day he was at home working on something on his laptop and Lisa called round. She was dropping something off for Jane; Jane had obviously forgotten as she was at work. Being at home, Sully was still wearing the tee shirt and boxers he wore to bed. He made Lisa a coffee; they sat chatting, and things went on from there...
Sully blinked repeatedly. He saw the sign for a lay-by ahead. He signalled and pulled in. Turned off the engine and sat in the car. After a few minutes he got out and walked round to the passenger side. He turned his back to the car and the traffic speeding past. Not that they could see him in the dark and rain. In the heavy rain he looked out across the fields and began to cry. First just sobbing then his shoulders began to shake as he wept uncontrollably.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tom had just taken a telephone call from a library customer who had reserved a book online four weeks ago and was still waiting for the book to be available. The book in question was a copy of Shaw’s Androcles and the Lion, not a volume with which Tom was too familiar, but obviously popular somewhere as it was now two weeks overdue. Tom reassured the customer, a Mrs Watson, that as soon as the book was returned, one of the library staff would telephone her. This seemed to satisfy Mrs Watson, and Tom was able to end the call.
As he replaced the phone on the cradle, he felt his mobile vibrate. He picked it up, and checked the display: it was Amy.
‘Just be a second,’ he mouthed to the fellow librarian who was sitting at the desk opposite, and answered the phone. ‘Amy, hi. Hold on a second. I’ll just go outside,’ he said, taking the phone out through the rear exit to the staff car park at the back of the building. ‘That’s better,’ he said when he got outside. ‘What’s up?’
‘Tom, I need somewhere to go. They’re on to me,’ she cried breathlessly. ‘Mr Fleming called me into his office, and there was -’
‘Wait, wait. Take it easy. I can’t make out what you’re saying. Start again from the beginning.’
Amy started to explain what had happened that morning, but got more and more hysterical, and Tom found it difficult to catch what she was saying, particularly with the noise from traffic wherever she was.
‘Amy, Amy: listen. We need to get you out of that flat of yours till this is all over.’
‘But, I can’t go back there. They might be there.’
‘Tell you what. Tell me where you are. I’ll make an excuse to get off here. I’ll meet you; we can go back to your place together. You can get a couple of days’ clothes and stuff and crash at mine. Until this is all over. All right?’
‘Okay. Thanks,’ she sobbed.
‘Where are you then?’
‘Stratford.’
‘Stratford? Why Stratford?’
‘Don’t know. I just left the office, ran to the tube station, and got the first train that came in.’
‘Okay. Look - you can get an Overground directly here from Stratford. Can you do that?’
‘Yes, think so.’
‘Do that now. Get off at Willesden Junction. I’ll meet you at the station. I’ll be on the platform. Okay?’
‘Willesden Junction,’ she repeated.
‘Tell you what,’ he added. ‘Text me when your train leaves, er - Kensal Rise. Then I’ll know which one you are on.’
‘Yes. Right.’
‘Good girl. Now get on that train. I’ll be arranging to get off work and walk down to the station.’
They both said their goodbyes and Tom went back inside. He looked around for Carla Mayo, his supervisor. He found her in the oversized books department. She was kneeling down, checking some books on a bottom shelf to a computer printout.
‘Oh, Carla,’ Tom said. ‘I was looking for you.’
She looked up at him, her eyes squinting slightly as the sun was shining through the large windows right onto her.
‘Well, you found me,’ she said. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I wouldn’t normally ask this, but -’
‘Oh, yes?’ she interrupted.
Tom continued, not picking up the irony in her voice, ‘I need to take a day or two off. Some family stuff has cropped up. I’ll take it as annual leave, of course.’
‘Of course.’
‘So I’ll just pack up my stuff and get off, is that all right?’
‘I guess it will have to be,’ she sighed. ‘When do you expect to be back?’
‘Not sure. I think...’ he began, running his hand though his hair.
‘Why don’t we just say we’ll expect you next Monday morning? Will that give you enough time to sort out your - family stuff?’
‘Should be,’ he nodded. ‘I hope so, at any rate.’
‘Okay,’ Carla said, returning to the bottom shelf. ‘See you Monday.’
‘Thanks,’ Tom said, backing away.
‘Oh, and Tom?’ Carla called out.
Tom turned round.
‘Hope it all gets sorted out.’
‘Thanks,’ he said again, and returned to his desk. He checked the time. It was about ten minutes since Amy’s call, so he had half an hour to finish up here and get down to the station.
He arrived at the station in plenty of time. He had been waiting on the platform when Amy’s text came through. Five minutes later her train pulled in. The doors slid open and a large number of passengers alighted. Tom looked up and down the train and eventually saw Amy standing outside the second carriage. He waved to her. She saw him and walked down the platform to him. When they met she put her arms around him, under his arms and holding onto his shoulders. He put both arms round her waist. Her cheeks were red and her face felt cold. She clung on to him tightly for a moment.
‘Well, you made it,’ he said, pulling himself away.
‘Sorry to have called you,’ she said. ‘But I didn’t know what else to do.’
‘You did the right thing,’ he said, leading her over to a bench on the platform. ‘Come and sit down here. Now tell me what’s happened.’
As they sat there Amy related what had happened to her that morning. Her being summoned to see Fleming and seeing the albino sitting in the CEO’s office. Then seeing him try to get into the lift and the look on his face as the doo
rs closed.
Tom scratched the back of his head and looked around. ‘Yeah. I remember that guy. It was in Hyde Park, wasn’t it? In the Gents. He must have been following us.’
‘I can’t go back home now,’ she said.
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘Not yet. Let’s do what I said on the phone. I’ve managed to get the rest of the week off work.’
‘You have?’
‘Sick relative. Let’s both go down to your place, before it gets dark. You can pick up a few things, couple of days’ clothes, and come back here. I would suggest you don’t go back to work yet, either.’
‘Oughtn’t we go to the police?’
‘And tell them what? As far as they are concerned, Lisa fell in front of the train. The inquest said it was accidental death. So for them it’s case closed. And what do we know about your firm and what this guy Fleming’s up to? Nothing.’
Amy nodded slowly. ‘No. You’re right. We don’t know anything.’
‘Yet. We need to get evidence. Anyhow, our first priority is to get you out of their reach. They don’t know me.’
‘The white haired guy does.’
‘True, but he doesn’t know where I live. You’ll be safe up here. We’ll just have to keep our eyes open when we come back up here tonight.’
‘You want to get my stuff now?’
‘Might as well. Last night I used the tube, changed at Elephant, but it’s probably quicker to get one of these down to Clapham Junction, and change there.’
He looked up at the dot matrix indicator screen. ‘Look - there’s one in two minutes.’
The journey took them forty minutes. As they left the station, Tom stopped at a kiosk and bought two Snickers Bars. ‘Hungry?’ he asked Amy, handing her one.
‘A little. Thanks.’
They took the short walk to Amy’s flat eating their chocolate. Outside the house Tom paused, and looked around and up the street.
‘Can’t see anything suspicious,’ he said. ‘Let’s go in. But keep your eyes and ears open.’
Still looking around they followed the path and climbed the steps to the front door. As they passed the steps leading down to the basement flat Tom peered down them, but saw nothing untoward. Amy let them in and they cautiously climbed the stairs to Amy’s floor. Apart from the sound of a television playing on the top floor, the house was silent.
