You Could Do Something Amazing with Your Life [You Are Raoul Moat]

by Andrew Hankinson

  Sam, I don’t give a monkey’s about that, right.

  And he’s a lot younger than you.

  It doesn’t matter, Sam, I’m as handy as they come, right, and I don’t care, and you will make a problem between me and him if you push me out.

  How can I make a problem between you and him if I push you out? You’re my ex and he’s my current.

  Because, well, it doesn’t matter. You’ll be nothing if you really, if you really, really hurt me with this, right, I’ll end up going for him, and I don’t want to.

  Well you won’t end up going for him, because he’ll knock you straight on your fucking arse, Raoul.

  He’ll not, he’ll not.

  Yes he will, you’ll get a shock.

  I’ll not.

  You will.

  Well who is he?

  Well I’m not fucking telling you who he is, it’s fuck all to do with you.

  That’s why, well that’s what I’m talking about.

  But I’m telling you now, he will knock you on your arse.

  He’ll not.

  He fucking will, like.

  He’ll not, man.

  He will.

  Well, we’ll see, because you’ve never been scared of anyone. Not that you’re violent. Well, you’re not a million miles away from being violent, but it’s only ever been fisticuffs, giving as good as you get. True, you’ve got a temper, like, if someone came on to Sam you’d give them a straightener in the toilets. Or if someone’s driving dangerously you’d probably try to catch up with them, just to let them know you weren’t happy, which is how you broke your hand that time with the guy in the yellow Calibra. Or at home you might lose your temper and break things, or you might hit or slap Sam, or, like, pick her up [and throw her against a door, or drag her downstairs by her hair, or throttle her], but all this stuff about you hitting a little kid, you have never and would never hit a little kid. It’s ridiculous, because it would have caused a lot more damage, considering the size of you. You would have killed a little kid by hitting them, but it’s all part of the conspiracy.

  You call Sam. She doesn’t answer.

  You call again. She doesn’t answer.

  You call again. She answers and you argue. She hangs up.

  You call again. She doesn’t answer.

  You call again, again, again.

  After lunchtime she texts you. She asks what time Karl’s going over to Birtley to collect the puppies. The thing is, the bitch had puppies while you were inside, and Sam’s been looking after them, so she wants Karl to go and pick them up and take them to your house, because she’s got your daughter at her place and says she doesn’t have time to be feeding the puppies every two hours, so you told her you just need to go to B&Q to get some wire mesh, and anyway, it’s you who should be pissed off, because nobody said the vet bills were so much, even though you’d warned her that there’d be hell on if you got out and there was no money left, but yes, Karl will get the puppies once you get the wire mesh for your garden to keep them away from the big dogs, one of which is a cross between a Ridgeback and a Staffordshire, and it’s so strong its whole body wiggles when it wags its tail.

  Karl comes over in the recovery truck and takes you to B&Q in Newburn [in the West End] where you buy a four-man tent [and where you’re filmed on CCTV cameras walking round in a fluorescent orange T-shirt]. He drops you at home. You call Sam [at 5.44pm] and she shouts about the puppies again. You tell her to calm down, saying you will get them, but she says Karl has to pick them up now, right now, before tonight, because she wants to go out with her new boyfriend. This is someone she’s been seeing for five minutes. Anyway, she says she can’t leave the puppies alone, and the conversation goes on like this for half an hour, so fair enough, you’re furious by the end of it, because what she’s saying is this guy’s a police officer, after everything they did to you, after they took everything off you, she’s saying he’s a copper, and apparently he’s going to use the police to get you, so you say to her, look, you want a straightener with this guy. She hangs up.

  You call Sam. She doesn’t answer.

  You text Sam. She doesn’t answer.

  It’s the evening. Karl drives you to KFC. He eats, but you can’t. He drives you to Anth’s garage in Byker and leaves you there. You chat to Anth and he takes you to KFC. You still can’t eat. He says you look ill. You feel like there isn’t anybody there, in the place where you’re supposed to be. He asks you questions and you try to respond, but there’s nothing. He buys you an ice cream, but you don’t touch it. You tell him you’re not well.

  Anth takes you home. You talk for another fifteen minutes in the car. You tell him you’ll see him tomorrow in town for a good night out. You tell him you’ll get down the gym this week too. You ask if he can get you some protein powder. He asks again if you’re okay. You tell him you feel better. You say goodbye.

  …

  You phone Sam’s dad and talk about the puppies, and Sam and this other guy and whether he’s a karate instructor or a policeman, but her dad doesn’t have answers. The call lasts ten minutes.

  …

  You’re in the house when Sam texts [at 9.36pm]. She says she’s on a night out, and her dad’s just been on to her and told her he’s calling the RSPCA because the puppies shouldn’t be left outside tonight. She texts again [at 9.55pm], saying thanks for spoiling her night out and her mum and dad are arguing because of the puppies. You call her again and again. No answer. At 11pm you get in the van with the gun. Karl drives you down the A1 to Birtley, the same journey as last night, same gun as last night.

  At 11.07pm you call Sam.

  You call her again at 11.13pm.

  Again at 11.19pm.

  At 11.24pm she picks up. You talk for a few minutes. She’s gone again. You sit in the van. You’re parked in a car park near her house, round the back of the pub. Your phone battery runs out and you get furious, because she’s out somewhere with this guy and you don’t know where she is and you can’t even call her, so Karl drives you home and you find another battery and get back in the van. You bang the door shut and yell, because she has no idea how this feels, to be this helpless, and you call her again [at 11.47pm]. You call seventeen times and leave one text message. At 11.55pm she answers. You argue. She hangs up. You call again. You get through and her mum [who lives a few doors down from Sam] starts going on, and Jackie takes the phone and starts going on too [she’s Sam’s friend and neighbour]. Apparently they’re all at Jackie’s house. You bang the dashboard and yell again. Karl drives you across the river to Birtley. He parks near Sam’s house. You say goodbye and he says all the best. You get out the van with the shotgun. You walk to Jackie’s. You creep through the garden, quietly. You sneak up to the window, silently. You crouch under the large bay window. One pane is open. They’re smoking. You can smell the smoke drifting out. You can hear Sam in there. You hear her talking. You can hear him talking. You hear Jackie. You hear Jackie’s husband and Sam’s mum. They’re all laughing and drinking. It’s 1am. The air is warm. You have the bag of cartridges and the shotgun. Karl texts you,

  We’ll all miss you mate if it goes down.

  You text back,

  No problem mate, you’re the best.

  You text Karl again, telling him they’re all slagging you off and it’s hard to hear this coming from Sam, after all you’ve been through together. She’s like a different person. You text Karl, telling him it sounds like your suffering is funny to them. You tell him you’re not happy. You might try to get through the window. Does he think you should try it? He doesn’t reply.

  You text him again,

  I’m going to kick nice and proper when they are out. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.

  You wait.

  You wait.

  You hear them leaving [at 2.40am]. The front door opens. Sam and him come out. They’re hold
ing hands, giggling. They walk out the front gate and onto the pavement. You stand up. You load two cartridges into the gun. They see you. He stands in front of Sam. He stands in front of Sam. He’s big, but he’s not as big as you.

  You raise the gun.

  You shoot him in the chest.

  …

  You just shot him in the chest.

  …

  …

  [You shot him in the heart and liver.]

  …

  He stays on his feet. He stumbles a few yards, and a bit further, onto the grass, in front of the houses, onto the big grassy bit where it’s bright from the streetlights. Sam follows him.

  She follows him.

  She looks at you. You point the gun at her legs. She turns and runs back into the house. Her mum shouts from somewhere,

  You shot him, you bastard.

  You hear her, but you don’t see her. You look at Sam’s new boyfriend. He’s running away. You lift the gun and shoot him again, further away though, and it hits him in the neck and he goes down, onto the grass, onto his hands and knees. You loved Sam and if someone takes away someone you love it probably does make you want to kill them. It’s a pet hate of yours. You walk over to him. He’s on his hands and knees. You stand inches from him. You stand over him. You remove the two spent cartridges. You put new cartridges in, but one falls to the ground. You try again and it goes in this time. You point the gun at his head. Inches away. You shoot him in the head.

  …

  He falls flat.

  …

  This feels okay.

  …

  He’s lying on the grass. He’s dead.

  …

  You turn around and look at the house, but everyone’s gone, every man for himself, except Sam, brave Sam, who’s inside, standing at the lounge window, watching, looking at you as you point the gun at her and shoot her through the window.

  …

  She goes down.

  …

  Through her arm and into her abdomen.

  …

  Her dad is standing outside his house, a few doors down. You see him. He makes eye contact with you. He’s trying to work out what’s happening. Someone shouts,

  He’s got a gun. Get an ambulance.

  You run down the cut between the houses, towards the van. The van is gone. Karl has gone. How can you get home? You run.

  It’s a warm night. You keep going in the dark.

  You see a phone box. You call Anth on your mobile. He picks up. You tell him you’ve done it. You hang up and call him from the phone box. He answers. You tell him you’ve done it and the police are trying to kill you.

  He asks what you’re talking about,

  What’ve you done?

  I’ve done them.

  You tell him you were outside the window listening to them slag you off and you’ve done them. You’ve done them. He asks what you’re on about and you tell him he’s gone, Sam’s boyfriend is gone. He asks if you shot him. He’s gone. You put three in him.

  He asks,

  How do you know he’s dead?

  Listen, Anth, he’s gone.

  He asks about Sam. You tell him she’s okay, she crawled away, and finally he’s getting the gist of it. You tell him you’re sorry for the time you fell out, but you’ve got to get off, the police are trying to kill you. He asks what you’ll do. You tell him you’re going to kill yourself, or take on the police. You tell him,

  I love you, mate.

  You put the phone down and keep running to Chester-le-Street and get to the taxi rank and take off your hoodie and roll it around the gun and flag down a taxi and get in, which is a struggle, because you’re big, and you tell the taxidriver you want to go to Newburn [near Tara’s house, in the West End]. He drives onto the A1, over the river, and as he drives he tries to make conversation, but you cut him off, blanking him, avoiding eye contact in the mirror. He gets to Newburn and asks,

  Where to now?

  You tell him to pull off the A1 at the next junction and go a bit further, stop here. You don’t ask how much it is, just hand him a £20 note, which isn’t enough, but he takes it and says nothing. You step out with the gun tucked tight so he can’t see it and you walk to Shipley Street, to Tara’s house. Karl and Sean show up. The three of you stand in the kitchen. You tell them you feel like a great weight has been lifted. You tell Sean to ring 118 118 for your solicitor. He dials and says the name of your solicitor, but the operator can’t find it, and you tell Sean to hang up because they can’t use their phones anymore. You give them £200 and tell them to go to Tesco’s to buy some pay-as-you-go phones. You wait in the house, and this doesn’t feel real anymore. It takes them an hour. When they get back you tell Sean you’re taxing his Lexus and he can be the driver, and Karl gets in the passenger seat. You get in the back with the gun. Sean drives to Byker, where Karl left the van with the tent in the back of it, so Sean gets out and gets the tent out the van and puts it in the Lexus. Sean drives again. You tell him to head to Rothbury, giving him directions as he drives, six or seven miles past Morpeth, then a left, and carry on for about ten miles out into the sticks, where the houses are cheap because they get snowed in during winter, and there’s nothing to do, but you can choose your own Christmas trees out here, and this is where you and Sam were looking at getting a place, near Rothbury somewhere, a house out by itself with a bit of land, like when you were in France with your dad, who’s a French farmer, that whole side of the family are French farmers, down by the border with Spain, and you spent a lot of your time down there with your dad as a kid, among the cottages and vineyards, you’ve got these happy memories of it, so yeah, it would have been ideal, for you and Sam to have lived out here, the kids would have loved it, somewhere different, somewhere nice, that was their dream.

  You get to Rothbury at 6am. It’s light already. You tell Sean to pull into a little car park by some industrial units, and you all get out and carry the tent along a track, through a hedge, to the corner of a field, sheltered by trees and bushes, and you say,

  We can chill out over here.

  It takes fifteen minutes to put the tent up, and the sky is bright and the birds are chirping, and it’s peaceful, and you’re feeling better than you’ve felt in months, full of beans.

  [SATURDAY JULY 3, 2010]

  YOU WILL DIE IN SIX DAYS

  It’s 7am. Karl and Sean go shopping. You stay at the tent. You’re grinding your teeth. Your jaw is aching. You punch your legs.

  …

  Obviously you’re not going to be around in a few days.

  …

  It feels strange.

  …

  You walk down the track. There’s a woman on a horse, fucking hell, so you crouch down and pretend to tie your shoes, and you keep your face hidden, and walk onto the grass verge, and she’s gone.

  …

  This is easy.

  …

  Karl and Sean get back. You ask if they were followed. They say they weren’t. They’ve got bags of stuff:

  pillows, sleeping bags, duvet

  white baps, sausages, premium burgers

  water

  shower gel, toothbrushes, toothpaste, toilet roll, disposable razors

  portable barbecue, barbecue tools, charcoal, lighter fluid

  bowls, washing-up liquid, bin bags, tin opener

  notebook, biros, envelopes

  a bottle of Reggae Reggae Sauce.

  Karl lights the barbie, and the three of you eat. After a few burgers, Karl and Sean write their letters — one from Karl to his sister-in-law, who lives with Karl’s brother, telling her she shouldn’t be alarmed, but you’re holding him hostage and treating him like a gent, and you’re a nice bloke, you’ve just got your problems, don’t we all, and you’re a mate so he’s going to do what he can to help yo
u, and she should tell his mum what’s happening, but not let her go to the police because then he won’t be coming back. Signed Karl. You read it after he’s finished.

  Sean writes a letter to his sister saying he’s being held hostage by a man with a shotgun, but you’re treating him well and buying him what he needs. He also writes another letter to her,

  BURN THIS LETTER!!!

  IT IS MY FRIEND THAT IS HOLDING ME ‘HOSTAGE’ I AM ACTUALLY SAFER THAN SAFE. BUT THIS DEED WILL SEE ME A MADE MAN. IM ACTUALLY HIDDEN OUT AT A SECRET LOCATION WELL OUT OF HARMS WAY. BURN THIS LETTER AFTER YOU HAVE READ IT, NOT SURE ABOUT SHOWING IT TO MAM & DAD THOUGH AS THEY WILL SPILL THE BEANS AND THAT WILL LEAD ME TO ACTUALLY BEING SHOT. LOVE YOU!!! XXX

  You read his letters too. Karl has a kip in the tent. You tell Sean to get himself to Smokey Joe’s in town [Newcastle] and buy a portable TV to keep track of the news. He heads to the car.

  You chill out.

  …

  At 4.05pm Sean texts,

  won’t get tv anywhere not even smokey joes

  Fucking hell. You call him. Then he calls you and says he can’t find the other shop you told him to try, but he’s got clothes from Primark, and he texts again,

  in asda, got fm radio

  He’s back at base camp by teatime, and you ask if he was followed, and he says he wasn’t. He’s brought ice creams. You eat the ice creams, and Karl cooks more sausages, and you sit by the barbecue talking about how good the sausages smell. A man comes through the hedge and asks if the track goes any further. Sean tells him it doesn’t, and he goes away. It gets dark. You’ve got a plan.

  …

  You all get in the car.

  …

  Sean drives. You tell him to stop at the garage to grab the paper. He gets out and gets the paper and comes back and passes it to you. You read in the back seat.

  …

  Sean drives.

  …

  It says Sam’s in critical condition. Your head’s a mess right now, and you’re probably too far gone to make sense of it, but you’re definitely sorry about shooting her. You didn’t mean to do that, not make her critical, but being honest, you meant to do what you meant to do, and you’re thinking, if all the things that have happened to you had happened to someone else, would it have gone this far? Probably not. You’ve got issues. No doubt about that. Obviously this isn’t normal. Normal people don’t do things like this. But you’ve got a funny frame of mind at the minute. Being honest, the only emotion you actually feel is how you feel about Sam, but it’s clouded by something else, something you don’t understand: you don’t actually feel anything. It’s like you could just go out and buy an ice cream and go to the cinema like nothing’s wrong. Strange. Your doctor said years ago that if someone in your family is a manic, or maniac, or something like that, whether it just makes you, you know, not understand what you’re doing. You can guarantee there’s probably a chemical being released somewhere in your body that isn’t right, because you do get hyperactive and don’t sleep and can’t sit still. You’ve got to be up doing something all the time. It’s unusual. Jail made it worse. While you were inside you had these thoughts about blowing up Etal Lane police station, because you do have explosives knowledge and you’ve got access to chemicals, so it’s something you could do, and you’re still thinking about doing it, and you’ve been wondering about it for three years, because that place has been a cause of so many of your problems. Like, they bully you. A lot of people think the police can’t bully someone like you, but they do, and the thing that always stopped you retaliating is you’re fucked once you do something like that. That’s it, your life’s over. You flush your life down the toilet as soon as you do anything like that, which is why you always put it on a backburner. Because you lose everything then. That’s why nobody in the history of mankind has taken the police on before. No one’s been daft enough, except you, but you were really hurt this time. You were wanting to do things you wouldn’t normally want to do. You thought about hurting Sam, doing a bit more than hurting her, and you broke down, because it’s not what you wanted. It’s not what you wanted at all. You shouldn’t be thinking like that, but this is what happens when that side of you takes over. It upsets you, and it’s happened for years, but nobody ever tried to help you with it. Nobody ever turned around and said, look, Raoul, you’ve got this problem. The amount of times you’ve gone to shrinks and said, look, is it me, analyse me, fix me, whatever’s wrong, fix it, but not one’s come back and said there’s something wrong. Well, sorry, but you beg to fucking differ. You might not have a degree, but when most people get bullied they just take their own life, still bound by the rules, but not you, you go chasing other people. Fucking Joe Soap down the road isn’t sitting here planning how to kill a police officer, is he?