‘Hello ladies, I’m from the Met police,’ he says, taking out a notebook and reading off it. ‘Are you Francesca Hartford and Jessica Lees?’
‘Yes, that’s us, is there a problem?’
‘Do you mind if I sit down?’
‘No, we don’t mind.’
He pulls up a chair and places his hat on the table. ‘I’ll be brief as I know it’s quite busy here today. I’m just making very informal inquiries about an incident that took place yesterday…’ He looks at his notebook. ‘…At 4.49pm. It’s been reported that a man was acting quite aggressively towards a Miss Lees – and also may have been under the influence. I take it you both recall the incident?’
‘Er yes,’ I say, looking astonished and glancing at Jessica. ‘But it was nothing really, just a small disagreement. Who reported it? I can’t believe anyone thought it was a police matter.’
‘At this stage, it’s not important who reported it, Mrs Hartford, I just need to know whether it’s worth pursuing further…’
‘Must have been Eric…’ says Jessica, whispering under her breath.
The policeman gives Jessica a sharp look. He reads off his notebook again. ‘So did any of you know this man, Lawrence Bernhard? We’ve been told he was a neighbour of yours, Mrs Hartford…’
‘Yes, he is my neighbour. Look, do we have to take this further? There’s really nothing to get worked up about on anyone’s side. Nothing happened.’
‘Was he threatening and abusive?’
‘Yes, a little…’
‘Drunk?’
‘I can’t say – but he had been drinking.’
‘Hmm,’ he says, starting to write in his notebook. ‘You know I was at Westfield Shopping Centre this morning and a shoplifter started being abusive to a member of staff when he was rumbled. The member of staff is still locked away in the toilets trying to recover. I’m going back there this afternoon after I’ve dealt with this matter.’ He looks up at me. ‘You see what I’m saying, Mrs Hartford? Abuse and threats can be very hurtful. They can damage lives. Now, can you start from the beginning and go through, exactly what happened?’
I sigh and look at Jessica who shrugs. Is she deliberately trying to stay quiet because she’s already had dealings with the Met once before (with the immigration issues)? What about William and Gillian, do I mention them? After a jubilant morning, I feel in somewhat of a pickle again. Competing in a triathlon would be easier than this.
Jessica is trying to fix the body armour of a man dressed as Richard the Lionheart near a kiosk while I try and offer advice. The man continually apologises to us about ‘wasting our time’, waving his sword and raising his shield at bewildered spectators, but Jessica keeps telling him that Richard wouldn’t have been called Lionheart if he’d kept apologising all the time. This seems to have the desired effect on the man and he starts shouting about the Crusades and how no-one should come near him if they didn’t want a fight till the death. As Jessica continues to struggle to fix the shoulder area of the body armour – it has become loose and therefore won’t stay on the man’s body, slipping continually – I look up and see Rob sprinting towards us as if Usain Bolt himself has trained him for a few hours. He stops by my side, out of breath, hands on his knees, looking down at Jessica and the Richard the Lionheart impersonator.
‘Heard the coppers were in town, what the hell for?’ asks Rob, looking at me. ‘Not for that Lawrence business was it? What happened anyway? I’ve been so busy with other things, I forgot all about it. Did he come here yesterday then?’
‘Did Sheena or Eric not tell you?’
‘No, like I said, I had another emergency to deal with. An athlete escaped from the Olympic Village and there was a search for him last night. So what did this copper want then?’
‘Someone reported Lawrence to the police. They said he was being abusive, which I suppose he was. He was drunk too…’
‘The bastard. Did he have a go at Jess?’
‘A little but it was nothing really. We defused the situation really quickly. I couldn’t believe it when the policeman came into the canteen at lunchtime.’
‘Surely, Old Bill have got better things to do,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Never mind, looks like Jessica’s got over it pretty quickly with her new knight in shining armour. Watch it Jess, or that Lawrence might be down here again asking why you’re seeing another bloke other than William. Are you sure you can fix that? Do you want a hand?’
Jessica glances at Rob and offers a deeply sarcastic look. Rob bends down and takes hold of the body armour. It falls even further apart and Jessica breaks out into wild laughter.
‘Not having a good 24 hours are you, Rob?’ says Jessica. ‘You warn us about Lawrence and then disappear. The police come and you haven’t got the foggiest they’re here. And then you destroy Richard the Lionheart’s body armour. What next? The lights go out in the Velodrome?’
Rob doesn’t answer and is seriously engaged in trying to fix the man’s armour. There is a clip out of position that Rob tries to fasten again but it’s so awkward that his fingernail nearly breaks after another aborted attempt.
‘Fuck that shit,’ says Rob, dropping the body armour on the ground and getting up. ‘Let big Richard sort out his own heart of darkness. If he’s screwed up enough to put it on then he can sure as hell fix it himself.’
The man looks slightly annoyed at Rob as he takes the body armour back in his hands. He puts it over his body with the left shoulder area still completely unfastened. It almost falls off him as soon as he slips it on.
‘We were doing fine before you came along,’ said the man, picking up his sword and shield and then putting his helmet on. ‘You’re no Saladin.’
‘Don’t want to be either, mate. You two caused a lot of pain to a lot of people. We’re a bigger family here; all nations, all tribes. If it was up to you and Saladin, we’d never have the Olympics in the first place.’
The man raises his sword towards Rob. ‘This re-enactment begins with a magical spell that I’ve decided to put onto you, oh poisonous one…’
Jessica and I chuckle in the background as Rob rolls his eyes.
‘Go on then, Rich,’ says Rob. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’
Suddenly a roar goes up in the Olympic Park.
‘I hear the sound of another British medal,’ says Jessica. ‘Looks like Richard has got magical powers, hey Rob?’
Rob doesn’t look amused and shoos the man away, who responds by doing a headbutting motion with his helmet.
‘Now Frannie, let’s get back onto serious matters,’ says Rob, putting both hands on my shoulders. ‘Do you want me to come round to yours this evening just in case Lawrence tries to cause more trouble?’
I tell Rob it isn’t necessary for him to protect me from Lawrence. As for Jessica, I’m less certain. Yet both us still feel it would serve no purpose for Rob to stay at my house this evening. We are on the Tube, on our way home after our shift, discussing these events when a man sitting to my right checks his Hugo Boss carrier bag for the price tags on his new clothes and then starts talking to me even though he knows I’m deep in conversation with Jessica. He looks quite smart with lightly-permed hair and white-rimmed glasses and it’s perhaps because we’re still in our uniforms that he wants to engage with us (Rob talked to us for so long after our shift, about police procedure, Locog procedure and every other procedure under the sun that we decided not to change to ensure we weren’t late getting home). He leans forward to acknowledge Jessica just to ensure he’s not accused of being rude.
‘Olympic volunteers, yeah?’ he says, putting his carrier bag down by his feet. ‘Since Saturday, you wouldn’t believe the number of people who want to talk to me about the Olympics. I work for a fashion and lifestyle mag and suddenly every man, woman or dog is a big fan of Coe’s carnival. Last issue, nothin
g; this issue, they’re all crawling out of the woodwork.’ He touches his glasses and peers at me. ‘Any of you interested in a shoot after the Games are over?’
‘A shoot?’
‘A magazine spread – or a feature – after the Games are done. If you don’t mind me saying, you look like you’ve got years of experience. We like to be distinctive in our mag of who we feature.’
I blush and look at Jessica. ‘I think she’s the one you should be interested in…’
‘Both of you. Do you want my number so you can call me if you’re interested?’
‘Bit fast, aren’t you?’ says Jessica.
He’s already fishing in his pocket for a card. He hands one to me but I glance at Jessica so she can take it. He then takes out his phone and prepares to tap in the number.
‘It’ll probably get destroyed in the wash so can I take your number?’ he says, looking at both of us as if we’d offend him if we didn’t comply.
‘I heard your magazine group was in administration,’ says Jessica, flicking the card over in her hand. ‘Your circulation’s been crap for a number of years.’
The man is taken aback by Jessica’s reply – but seems to take it in good heart.
‘Is she always like this?’ he asks, looking at me and slipping his phone back into his pocket.
‘I don’t know, I haven’t known her long enough…’
He laughs and leans back in his seat, crossing his hands.
‘First it was the newspapers who stole our ideas with their mag supplements and now it’s the internet,’ he says. ‘We might be extinct in 20 years but at least we’ve recorded some of the great British trends over the last 40 years from punk to Kate Moss and Euro 96 to Britpop. Now, we’re doing the same on the Olympics. When it goes down in our country, we’ve had our finger on the pulse.’
‘Sorry, I can’t hear you…’ says Jessica, cupping her ear as the Tube train pulls into Bakerloo Station.
The man shakes his head and, this time, looks rather more annoyed than before.
‘Nor can anyone else anymore…’
I realise we are late getting home but I’m looking forward to a cuppa, some soothing John Tavener melodies and a nice early night. Jessica is a few yards ahead of me but she looks over my shoulder as she can tell there is someone at my front door. As we get towards the garden path, I can see Gillian and an elderly man, who I don’t recognise immediately, walking away from my door. They look like they are about to leave but then Gillian finally spots Jessica and waits by the front gate. Jessica politely waits for me to catch up and we eventually join Gillian and the man. I am shocked to realise the man next to Gillian is actually her father. I’d never seen or met him before but there is a picture of him in Gillian’s book and his long, gaunt face and shock of silver hair is unmistakable. Gillian puts her hand on her father’s shoulder and ushers him away from a small ditch outside our front gate. She looks up at us and smiles.
‘We were just about to leave, Frannie,’ says Gillian. ‘Looks like you’ve had a long shift today. Who cares when it’s Rule Brittania, hey?’
‘Sorry Gillian, have you been waiting long?’ I say, opening the gate and walking towards the front door. ‘We did have a marathon shift – but Rob held us up even longer.’
‘Think he wants it to go on forever. Look, I brought my father along with me because I thought you might want to meet him. He’s been staying down here since yesterday. I wanted to give mother a rest from her caring duties so I suggested father come and stay with our family for a while.’ Gillian looks at her father. ‘Daddy, this is Frannie Hartford, you know the great friend I told you about. She’s working at the Olympics. She’s one of the heroines of the day; doing her duty and ensuring everyone else has a smile on her face.’
I smile at her father but he doesn’t respond; his wide, unblinking eyes fixed on me as though they can see right into my soul. He also has a slight tremor in his jaw which serves as the only indication he might have registered what I said.
‘So good to meet you,’ I say, to complete the formalities. I take my key out to open the front door. ‘Come on, let’s have a nice sit down and a strong cup of coffee. I think we all need one.’ I look behind me. ‘Oh Gillian, you have met Jessica before haven’t you?’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ she says, shaking Jessica’s hand. ‘So this is the girl William won’t stop talking about. If only you knew the wild, romantic ideas he has about you. Have you discussed all this moving to Yorkshire stuff, then? As you know, Daddy’s family is from Harrogate so it isn’t such a big deal for me as it is for Lawrence.’
‘Can we talk about this later?’ I say, relieved to be getting into my house. ‘Talking about Lawrence isn’t going to help my fatigue. I need a hot drink first…’
‘Of course, Frannie,’ says Gillian, ushering her father through the front door. ‘Mentioning his name can bring out the worst in people!’
‘Didn’t think it would have escalated so far though…’ says Jessica, talking to Gillian for the first time.
‘What do you mean?’
‘The police getting involved…’
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about…’
‘Lawrence coming to the Olympic Park and abusing us. You didn’t know?’
There is a long silence behind my back. I don’t want to look – and close my eyes in case Gillian gets annoyed.
‘I didn’t know,’ she says, wiping a touch of saliva from the side of her father’s lips. ‘If only I could go back to stroking Daddy’s face all day everything would be all right again…’
The four of us sit in the living room enjoying hot buttered scones and coffee – but it feels awkward and uncomfortable as Gillian doesn’t say anything for at least half an hour. Jessica then turns the TV on and even Laura’s Trott victory in the Women’s Omnium isn’t enough to change the mood. It’s only when Victoria Pendleton starts competing in the Women’s Sprint – and is penalised for the second time at these Olympics – that Gillian starts to regain her poise and composure. Pendleton wins the silver medal but her tearful, emotional interview seems to release the tension in the house.
‘Women…’ she says, shaking her head and picking up another scone, ‘…always the silver medallists in the world of humans. Relegated, disqualified, dismissed…’ She turns and looks at me. ‘So what did gold meddler Lawrence say to you at the Olympic Park? I can’t apologise for him anymore. It’s gone beyond that.’
‘He was drunk, Gillian,’ I say. ‘But it was nothing really. I can handle him. He was a bit more abusive to Jessica – and that was a bit harder to take.’
Gillian looks at Jessica. ‘I hope you gave as good as you got…’
‘Wasn’t worth it,’ says Jessica, with her eyes fixed on the TV. ‘He was drunk so I didn’t want things to escalate.’
‘What kind of things did he say?’
Jessica hesitates and glances at me. She wonders if it’s right to talk about these delicate matters. I nod because I sincerely believe Gillian has a right to know.
‘It was mainly about William and me,’ she says. ‘William seems to like me a bit and has asked me out a couple of times. He’s also been talking about moving up with me to Yorkshire as you know. I’ve told him he’s moving things too fast but he just ploughs on. That’s got Lawrence’s back up. He thinks I’m a bad influence.’
‘I can’t believe I’ve missed all this,’ says Gillian, catching the crumbs from her scone on a saucer after she takes a bite. ‘But when you’ve got to drive 200 miles to pick up your father and drive him back, I suppose you miss quite a lot of things on your own doorstep.’ She pauses and rubs her fingers to wipe the crumbs off her hands. ‘But how on earth did the police get involved? Did he get physical?’
‘No, he just barged my shoulder a bit,’ says Jessica. ‘I play hockey, it was har
dly anything to get worked up about.’
‘Why call the police then?’
‘We didn’t, somebody else did. We’re not sure who it was.’
Gillian picks up her tea and takes a sip. ‘I hope he didn’t hurt you Frannie. I’ll never forgive him if he did that.’
‘He didn’t Gillian. I think he realised that we go back a long way…’
‘Hmm, so Jessica, how much do you like my son?’ asks Gillian, rather abruptly. ‘Do you see a future with him?’
‘Er I don’t know. I do like him – but he seems to have a lot on his plate at the moment. Family issues, work problems…’
‘But you’ve got those too…’
‘Not really, not anymore. I did at the start of the Olympics but I’m in better shape now.’
‘What about money problems? You’ve lived in three places already since London 2012 started. Don’t you think Frannie’s been exceptionally kind by letting you live here rent free?’
‘Gillian, it’s okay,’ I say, with a firm interruption. ‘Jessica can live here for as long as she likes. Can we talk about other things please?’
Gillian looks at me and puts her hand on her forehead. ‘Sorry about that Frannie, maybe I’m getting a bit carried away. There’s a bit of strain at the moment, as you can imagine, with Daddy’s problems, the public meeting coming up, Lawrence’s aggressive behaviour and William acting rather impetuously. If it wasn’t for steady Jack, the whole family would be going insane!’
‘You don’t have to apologise to me, Gillian. I’ve read your book, it’s wonderful. Well done, on a lovely piece of writing.’
Gillian suddenly lights up and puts her cup of tea down on the table. ‘You finished it! Oh Frannie, you don’t know how much that means to me. It’s almost as if everything’s all right in the world again, I mean everything. Thank you so much.’ She pauses and picks up her cup again. ‘Do you think I should print a few more copies then?’
Seventeen Gifts for Frannie and Jess Page 19
