Sally smiled. ‘I did mention he was trained to respond to a child’s repetitive behaviour.’
Mark raked his hand through his hair. ‘Yes, but I thought that would be the rocking to and fro and hand-flapping stuff, not…’
‘Banging his head? Stamping his feet?’ Sally gave Mark a knowing look.
Mark nodded. Of course. ‘Christ, that dog is working magic nothing short of miraculous.’
‘He aims to please,’ Sally assured him. ‘And the spin-off is, in ceasing the repetitive behaviours, Karl might interact with Starbuck more, thus becoming more perceptive of the dog’s needs and hopefully transferring those accomplishments to humans. There are no guarantees, of course,’ she stressed, walking across to assist him from the floor, ‘but…’
‘… he’s making progress.’ Mark grabbed hold of her hand, and thanked God he hadn’t been too proud to reach out.
‘You’ve made an awful mess of your uniform.’ Jody nodded at his dog-food-spattered trousers.
Glancing down, Mark laughed. ‘You know, in the great scheme of things, I don’t think I give a damn.’
****
Mark’s good mood evaporated as he spotted Evelyn outside his Dad’s front door.
‘Great,’ he muttered, climbing out of his car. He needed this like a hole in the head. So, did he talk to her or ignore her? Whatever, he was obliged to walk past her. At least she wasn’t here to clobber him again, he supposed, not with her daughter’s child in her arms.
‘Oh, it’s you.’ Evelyn looked him derisively up and down, as he approached the door.
Mark bent to look himself up and down. ‘Yep, definitely.’ He smiled, looking back at her. ‘Sorry to disappoint you.’
Evelyn raised her eyebrows, clearly not amused. ‘I see you’re in uniform. Out to impress the girls, are we?’
Mark decided to ignore that barbed comment. ‘On duty,’ he said. ‘If I’d known I was coming into a hazardous situation, I’d have worn full body armour.’
‘Very droll, Mr Evans. For you information, I’m not in a habit of hitting people.’
‘Glad to hear it. Have you knocked?’ Mark nodded at the door.
‘Yes.’ Evelyn hoisted Jack higher in her arms, who was becoming a bit fractious. ‘He hasn’t answered.’
‘Can’t say I blame him.’
‘Such wit,’ Evelyn said dourly. ‘He didn’t answer when Dot knocked last night, either. You might want to…’
‘Christ.’ Mark fished his key out of his pocket and was through the door in five seconds flat. ‘Dad?’ he called, once inside the hall.
‘Dad, you here?’ He pushed open the lounge door, checked out the kitchen and was halfway up the stairs, when the under-stairs cupboard door creaked open.
‘Unfortunately, yes.’ His father emerged, with a world-weary sigh.
Mark exhaled, relieved, and trooped back down.
‘Close the front door, would you?’ Robert addressed Evelyn, with a tight smile. ‘Preferably on your way out.’ He turned to stride to the kitchen, newspaper under arm, torch in hand, and still in his pyjamas.
Stupefied, Evelyn blinked over Jack — who’d also been stunned into silence by the pyjama-clad apparition, and then turned wordlessly to close the door.
‘Ahem.’ Composure obviously collected, Evelyn turned back and proceeded down the hall. ‘My opinion of you hasn’t changed, incidentally,’ she told Mark as she marched past him.
‘Right.’ Mark shook his head and wondered whether to stay or make a run for it.
Jack’s wailing before Evelyn got as far as the kitchen made up Mark’s mind. Clearly determined to go nowhere near the monster from the under-stairs cupboard, Jack wriggled, then went rigid and refused to bend in the middle.
‘Here, let me take him,’ Mark offered, sensing a toddler-tantrum coming on.
‘Evelyn,’ he sighed, as Evelyn struggled to hold on to him, ‘I know you don’t rate me, but I do have a child, you know. Do you want to hand him over before he hits floor?’
‘This I’m aware of. As is Donna… now.’ Evelyn gave him a look that could curdle milk. ‘We don’t see much of your child when he’s here though, do we?’
‘Which means?’ Mark tried to quash his growing irritation.
‘Nothing, I’m sure. Except, given your father has the luxury of a garden, maybe you should allow the child to act more like a child?’
What the hell was the woman on about now? Mark glanced angrily at the ceiling. ‘Thank you,’ he said, looking back at her, his temper in check. ‘I’ll bear your invaluable parenting advice in mind.’
He wasn’t getting into this. If the woman ever wanted a civil conversation, maybe. But, right now, he needed to go to work. And, given Evelyn’s last unsocial call, he wanted her gone before he did.
‘Meanwhile, maybe we should consider Jack’s welfare.’ Mark nodded at Jack, who was now dangling precariously from her grasp. ‘I’ll take him, okay?’
‘Thank you,’ Evelyn managed, though Mark was reaching to take him anyway.
‘Come on, mate.’ He swung Jack up in his arms. ‘Let’s go and see if we can find you some sweets, hey? All right with you?’ He eyed Evelyn questioningly.
‘Fine,’ Evelyn said, marching on into the kitchen. ‘As long as they’re not boiled sweets.’
Mark followed her, Jack still tearful, but somewhat appeased by the ‘sweet’ word. ‘Chocolate,’ he assured her. ‘White. Dad’s personal supply. Don’t worry, I won’t offer him a beer to wash it down with.’
Evelyn gave him a semi-amused glance over her shoulder, then headed over to where Robert was seated at the table, his eyes fixed on his newspaper. ‘I came to apologise for my abysmal behaviour,’ she said, without further ado. ‘I bought you…’ she paused to ferret in her shoulder bag ‘… these.’
Robert glanced over his paper at the box she’d planted on the table, then at Evelyn, bemused.
‘Tea bags?’ Mark looked at her askew.
‘Williamson Duchess Grey, home-delivered by John Lewis,’ Evelyn informed him. ‘Nothing but the best, for someone who’s obviously too high-brow to mix with us prols.’
‘Harrumph.’ Robert rattled his newspaper, now looking unimpressed.
‘It’s a joke, Mr Evans.’ Evelyn rolled her eyes. ‘Clearly you’ve forgotten your sense of humour, as well as where your wardrobe is.’
Robert licked his thumb and turned a page.
‘Good God, have you no manners?’ Evelyn snapped. ‘Can’t you at least accept them with the good grace they were intended as?’
Robert arched an eyebrow at Mark, who was in serious danger of inviting Evelyn’s wrath again and laughing aloud.
‘It’s an olive branch,’ Evelyn elaborated, with a smidgeon of contrition. ‘I think I might have possibly been a touch rude when I last saw you,’
‘You were.’ Robert perused another page. ‘You are.’
‘Well no one can say I didn’t try.’ Evelyn shrugged and turned to Mark to retrieve her grandchild.
‘Sit down.’ Robert downed his paper, obviously somewhat appeased. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
Evelyn turned back, surprised. ‘No. Thank you, but I can’t stop. I’m helping out at St Peter’s Jumble sale in aid of the church roof. Dot’s watching Jack for me, isn’t she, sweetheart?’
‘Choclat.’ Jack beamed, and offered her a sticky palm to lick.
‘Ooh, lovely.’ Evelyn obliged. ‘Come on then, young man, let’s go and play with Dot, shall we?’
She headed for the door, then stopped. ‘You should come round to Dot’s one evening,’ she addressed Robert. ‘She is a bit over-motherly sometimes, but she makes the best apple pie. We could wash it down with a G&T.’
Robert stroked his stubbly chin. ‘I might just take you up on that,’ he mused, ‘as long as you don’t leave me alone with her,’ he added worriedly.
Evelyn laughed. ‘I’ll play chaperone,’ she promised, ‘as long as you behave yourself.’
‘Would
n’t dream of doing anything but.’ Robert got to his feet. ‘Yorkshire man born and bred, and a gentleman born and bred,’ he assured her, puffing up his chest.
‘Like your son?’ Evelyn asked archly.
‘He’s a good man, you know,’ Robert said, walking her to the hall. ‘Give him a chance to explain about… whatever happened with your daughter.’
‘It’s not me he has to explain to.’ Evelyn glanced meaningfully back at Mark.
Mark tried a smile. ‘I thought you wanted me to run out of town?’
‘I’m reserving judgement.’ Evelyn graced him with a small smile back. ‘You shouldn’t have lied to her, Mark. Chances are, you’ve done irreparable damage even if you do have a reasonable explanation, which, personally, I doubt.’
‘I know.’ Mark nodded despondently.
‘Were they honourable, Mr Evans,’ Evelyn eyed him levelly, ‘your intentions towards my daughter?’
‘Very,’ Mark said, holding her gaze.
‘Hmm.’ Evelyn searched his eyes, a little less hostility in her own.
****
‘Alicia, if we don’t leave now, we’ll never get there before last food orders,’ Donna said, as her sister preened in front of the hall mirror.
Donna didn’t even want to go. She certainly didn’t want to go looking like something the cat had dragged in. Simon had sounded so excited though, that his boyfriend Nathan and he had finally set a date, she hadn’t the heart to tell him the last thing she wanted to do was celebrate two people sealing their relationship.
‘Two minutes,’ Alicia mumbled, making a neat little “o” with her mouth and applying her lip-gloss. ‘It’ll only take us twenty minutes to get there, don’t panic,’ she went on, pressing her lips together and admiring the effect as Donna peered around her, trying to get a glimpse of even a nostril.
‘And how are we getting there, exactly? Donna gave up and glanced at her sister askew. ‘As the crow flies? Because unless we sprout wings, I’m calculating more than an hour, actually.’
‘To The Swan?’ Alicia glanced at Donna doubtfully.
‘We’re on Shanks’s Pony, Alicia. My car doesn’t go very well at the moment, and Mum dropped you off, remember? So unless you fancy thumbing a lift now you’ve made yourself irresistible, we’re definitely going to be late.’
‘Well, we’ll call a taxi then.’ Alicia turned from the mirror, apparently satisfied.
‘I already did. They said half-an-hour to an hour’s wait.’
‘Silly question, probably, Donna, but why aren’t you using Matt’s car?’ Alicia asked, giving her hair a final flick, then heading to the kitchen for her boots and handbag.
Donna glanced in the mirror and gave her own hair a quick flick. Ye-es. Traffic-stopping. All she needed now was a head transplant and she’d pass for Cameron Diaz in a flash. ‘Because it is Matt’s car, Alicia.’ Donna trailed after her. ‘It’s also not currently road taxed.’
‘So tax it,’ Alicia suggested, giving Sadie a pet before plonking herself on a kitchen chair to tug on her boots.
Donna sat on the opposite chair and kicked off her passé trainers. With her heart swishing about in her tummy, she honestly didn’t feel like glamming up, but she should make a bit of an effort, she supposed. At least wear some heels in the hopes that longer legs might detract from her face.
‘It’s Saturday afternoon, Alicia. The post office is shut,’ Donna pointed out, reaching for her sister’s blusher and lippy.
‘Yes, but we can tax it online, can’t we? It’ll only take five minutes. And before you say you can’t afford to —’
‘I can’t afford to.’
‘But I can.’ Alicia stood up, booted, beautifully made-up and determined.
‘Uh-uh.’ Donna stood up, barefoot — to the disappointment of Findus, who was in search of a late lace-luncheon, blobbed and equally determined. ‘I can’t let you do that, Alicia. I’m not a …’
‘Yes, you can. Jack’s father provides more than adequately for his son, unlike some people we know.’ Alicia cut her short. ‘And I know you’re not a charity case. You’re a stubborn Miss Independent who doesn’t realise that that’s what sisters are for: To support each other.’
Alicia scooped Findus up and set him down in front of a more digestible cabbage leaf, then caught hold of Donna’s shoulders, twirled her around and propelled her to the lounge and the PC. ‘You’d do the same for me,’ she said, following after her. ‘And you can pay me back when you can. Meanwhile, you need to get yourself back out there.’
What, again? Donna wasn’t sure she wouldn’t rather just stay in with copious amounts of pleasure-inducing chocolate endorphins. ‘All right,’ she reluctantly agreed, silly not to when she needed alternative transport, but, ‘I will pay you back, I promise.’ She nodded, resolute, as she led the way up the hall.
She would too. Just as soon as the bidding was over.
****
Mark looked the guy who was propped against the wall of the betting shop over, disgusted. It wasn’t that he was so inebriated Mark’s partner could barely hold him up that was getting to Mark. What had him hard-pushed not give the little runt a taste of his own, was the state of the cashier he’d assaulted.
‘She wouldn’t pay me me winnings,’ the guy slurred, ‘fuckin’ bitch.’
Mark tensed, while Phil, equally disgusted, propped the guy harder against the wall. ‘So you thought you’d show her what a big man you are, hey?’ Phil twisted the guy’s collar just a little bit tighter.
‘I know what I’ll show ‘er next time, all right.’ The guy smirked, which did nothing to enamour him to Mark.
‘You won’t be showing anybody anything, mate, trust me,’ he grated angrily. Scum, he thought, his stomach turning over as the paramedics wheeled the cashier past them. ‘Come on, Phil,’ he nodded towards the patrol car, ‘let’s show this gentleman the cosy interior of a police cell. See if that doesn’t cool his bravado.’
‘You wanna watch it, you do,’ the guy warned, as Mark reached for his handcuffs. ‘Do Aikido, I do.’
‘Yeah?’ Mark laughed disdainfully. ‘And I do Origami. Come on, you’re nicked.’
‘Wanker.’ The guy’s face twisted into a snarl. Mark saw it coming, but back-stepped too late.
‘Bloody hell! Mark… !’ Phil shouted, as the vicious head-butt sent his partner reeling. ‘Are you okay?!’
‘Jesus.’ Mark shook his head, saw stars, literally, and then he saw red. ‘Unfortunately, for that bastard, yes.’ He righted himself and stepped towards the guy, no inclination this time to keep his temper in check.
‘Leave it, Mark,’ Phil warned him.
Mark raked a hand shakily through his hair, his cap being someway off on the pavement. ‘He is history!’ he said, breathing hard.
‘Yes, and so will you be, if you don’t back off!’ Phil positioned himself bodily between them.
Mark wasn’t listening. He’d had enough. Seen enough broken bones, broken homes, and smashed lives. It never got any better. But the kind of pond-scum that bragged about talking with their fists afterwards…
‘Mark! Think about Karl. He needs you! Now, for Christ’s sake, get your bloody act together!’
Mark studied the guy, his chest heaving. Counting down silently, he cautioned himself… not to reach out and break the little shit’s neck. ‘I’m obliged to inform you I’m arresting you on suspicion of assault with intent to cause grievous bodily harm,’ he instead cautioned the guy dispassionately. ‘You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence…’
****
‘Matt won’t mind, will he?’ Alicia asked, as Donna and she headed for the front door, having taxed the car.
‘It’s not that he’ll mind, Alicia. It’s just that Matt and I have an unspoken rule, one of mutual respect — of each other’s possessions as well as opinions.’ After Jeremy showing them precious little respect, Donna felt she didn’t need to add. ‘And as Matt’s most precious possession after his iPod is
his VW…’
She dialled Matt’s number as they opened the front door, to be greeted by his Indie music ring-tone approaching it.
‘Uh, oh, looks like the sisters are out on the town.’ Matt took in Alicia’s attire and his mum’s extra height. ‘Lock up da menfolk.’ He made imploring eyes at the skies.
‘Matt, darling nephew!’ Alicia exclaimed joyously, squashing his perplexed face between her hands as he walked in. ‘How are you? How’s college? How are the driving lessons going? How’s the car?’
‘All right, all right, all right. And no you can’t,’ Matt managed, through pursed lips.
‘Oh, go on, pretty please?’ Alicia batted her eyelashes. ‘For your favourite aunty-wanty?’
‘Uh-uh.’
‘Oh, well, it was worth a try.’ She shrugged and dropped his puckered face.
‘Thank you,’ Matt said, nipping past his mad aunty-wanty into the hall.
‘I’ll tax it,’ Alicia offered, omitting to say she already had in favour of dangling the carrot. ‘And we’ll put some petrol in.’
‘Umm…’ Matt considered. ‘Make it a full tank and you’re on.’
‘Done.’ Alicia gave him a wink. ‘He’ll go far, that one.’
Chapter Eleven
‘Responding,’ Phil answered another callout unenthusiastically.
Mark sighed, stuffed his caffeine-kick-drink-can in the well of the door and started the engine. ‘No prizes for guessing who our young shoplifter might be.’
‘Well, on the plus side, we get to go back to the station and coffee,’ Phil offered, cheerfully. ‘That should keep you awake.’
‘It’ll need to.’ Mark stifled a yawn as he negotiated his way through the pedestrian area of the High Street.
At this rate, he’d be unconscious before quitting time. The first shout had wiped him out, and that was without the great thumping headache.
He ran his hand over his neck. Christ, he was tired. It was a long haul most mornings, getting Karl up and dressed and into the dreaded shoes — going through the rituals. Making sure things were done in order, because for them not to be, meant Karl had to do them all over again.
Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. Page 13
