Elaine walks by me, heading for the doorway Michelle is standing in.
‘No, no… wait,’ I call out, holding a hand across her. ‘Please.’
She stands frozen. Then stares at my ex wife.
‘Gordon, let the nurse go,’ Michelle says.
I take my arm away, then clasp both of my palms together, as if I’m in prayer.
‘Elaine, Michelle… please,’ I beg. ‘Listen to me, both of you – I have something astonishing to tell you.’
Neither of them look at me, they’re too invested in each other’s faces; both of them wondering what the fuck I’m rambling on about.
‘Please,’ I beg again, ‘hear me out for two minutes.’
Michelle walks by both of us, places her handbag on the blue plastic chair and then sighs.
‘What have you got to tell us, Gordon?’ she says.
I look at Elaine, wait on her to turn around. She does. Slowly. I reach for the door, slap it closed, then make my way back towards my bed.
‘Just give me a sec,’ I say scratching at my temple. I want to get this out right but I have to let it all sink in. I perch on the side of my bed, then look up at both women. Michelle is a little drenched, her hair slightly matted to her shoulders, but she still looks good, still attractive. Even if there is strain splashed across her eye set. Elaine looks pained, disappointed. Disappointed in me, I guess. I need to speak up.
‘You’ll never guess what I’ve just heard,’ I say, then stop to gulp. ‘Guus Meyer – he took Betsy.’
I look down on the floor, afraid to witness the reaction of Michelle. I can sense her looking over at Elaine and rolling her eyes. But there’s silence. A very strange silence. As if I didn’t say anything at all.
‘I had a private investigator dig deep into Betsy’s disappearance and he found out that Guus was involved. He’s out in his house interviewing him now. I couldn’t just lie here and die without… without…’ I hold my hand up to my face, try to stop the tears from spilling out of my eyes, but it’s a hopeless task.
Elaine’s the first to react. She takes three steps towards me, places her hand on my shoulder and helps me to lie down flat on the bed. I use my feet to scoot myself backwards, so that I’m sitting up, my back against the bed rail.
I know Michelle is silent, but I can hear her thoughts. She thinks I’m a fucking madman. That I’m making this all up.
‘Gordon,’ Elaine whispers towards me, ‘I have to go now to speak with Mr Douglas about your surg—’
‘No, no,’ I say, panicking. I pinch at Elaine’s scrubs, hold her sleeve between my clenched fingers. ‘Please – you can’t do that. These surgeries have to go ahead. You can’t just let me die.’
She stares at me, her pity eyes larger than ever. She looks as if she’s going to cry too.
‘We had a deal, Gordon. You said you would relax and now—’
‘Can somebody tell me what the hell is going on?’ Michelle screeches out from behind Elaine.
I swallow down some tears, hold both of my palms out to face the two women.
‘Elaine,’ I say slowly, ‘this is Michelle – my ex-wife.’
Elaine purses her lips at Michelle, then nods before turning back to me.
‘Gordon is in need of emergency surgeries on his heart. He is due to go down for these surgeries in about twenty minutes, but that’s totally dependent on his heart rate remaining stable.’
Michelle folds her arms, stares at Elaine, not at me.
‘Is it true that he only has a fifty per cent chance of surviving these surgeries?’ she asks.
Elaine sticks out her bottom lip and then nods her head slowly.
‘I’m afraid that’s the ratio,’ she says. ‘The more stable his heart rate going into these surgeries, the more his chances of survival rise. But… but…’ she stutters.
‘But he hasn’t been able to remain stable because he’s been cooking up conspiracy theories about our daughter’s disappearance,’ Michelle says.
Elaine confirms Michelle’s assumption with a slight sigh and a shrug of her shoulder.
I hold my hand to my face again, my head thumping from all angles; both temples, the crown, the tops of my eyes. I have to stop Elaine from ratting me out to Douglas. I have to tell my wife that our daughter might be found today. I have to get on to Lenny, see what the fuck he’s found. Jesus Christ. Where do I even begin? I swing my legs over the side of the bed again and attempt to stand. But Michelle steps between me and Elaine, holds her hand to my chest.
‘You’re going nowhere,’ she says, bossing me about just like she used to. ‘Are these surgeries at three o’clock?’ she asks Elaine.
‘They were supposed to be, but…’ Elaine purses her lips again. I’m fucking sick of her pursing her lips.
‘Please,’ Michelle says rubbing at the side of Elaine’s arm with her other hand, ‘make sure the surgeries go ahead. He’s too young to die. I’ll see to it that he relaxes now and when he makes it out of the surgeries I’ll make sure he’s looked after.’
I actually feel my heart almost mend. Nobody has said anything nice to me in years. Jesus, I miss Michelle so much. I place my hand on top of the one she has resting on my chest.
‘Thank you,’ I say. She doesn’t respond. She’s more interested in what Elaine has to say than what I have to say.
Elaine pinches the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb, stares down at her feet.
‘I’ll give you two five minutes alone. If you can do your best, Michelle, to steady him ahead of surgery, that’ll at least give him a fighting chance.’
She looks at me, says nothing, then heads for the door.
I take Michelle’s hand, place it aside before planting my feet on the floor.
‘Elaine,’ I say, walking towards her. She turns around. I take two steps then throw my arms around her and breathe in her hair. ‘I’m so sorry.’
She leans off me, purses her lips right in my face, then spins around and walks out the door.
Michelle reaches out for my elbow, helps me back to my bed.
‘Chelle,’ I say, settling my back comfortably against the bed rail again, ‘I hired a PI called Lenny Moon – he’s—’
I stop talking when Michelle holds her eyes shut and sighs through her nostrils. I’ve already pissed her off and I haven’t even finished my first sentence.
‘I know,’ she says, opening her eyes. ‘He paid me a visit. Gordon, you need to listen to me now. You have to calm down, your life depends on it.’
‘But he has informa—’
‘Gordon, stop!’ she raises her voice.
‘Michelle, look, it makes sense. Guus fucking Meyer. Of course he took Betsy; it meant I would lose interest in the business, that he would be able to take it over.’
Michelle places her hand over my mouth.
‘Gordon, honestly, you need to stop. You need to let it all go.’
I try to talk but only a mumble comes out, so hard is Michelle’s hand pressed against my lips.
‘Listen to me, and listen to me carefully, okay?’ she says, craning her neck so she can stare straight down into my eyes. She places her cold hands either side of my face, holding my head still. ‘Betsy. Is. Dead.’
Five years ago
Betsy
I feel really sad when I stare back at Sana’s message.
How may I assist you, Betsy Blake? Do you need help downloading the latest software update?
I thought she might know who I am. Thought she might know the girl who has been in the newspapers and on the news on the TV. It takes me ages to type back to her.
Do you know me?
I stare at the screen. I can’t wait to see what she says back. I tap my fingers against the back of the kindle until her reply comes up on the screen.
I’m sorry. Would you like help downloading the latest software update?
Ah fuck, no, no, no!
‘I don’t think everybody watches the TV and the newspapers,’ I say to Boz
y. Bozy just stares back at me. I’m not sure what I should type back to Sana. I hang my fingers over the letters for ages. Hitting buttons and then deleting them.
Betsy; are you still available to chat? Here are the details for the software update.
I try to read everything Sana has sent me but it doesn’t make sense. It is really long. Really, really long.
Betsy, you haven’t answered in a long time. Please get in touch with our representatives on 1800 852 852 should you need further assistance.
’No, no, no,’ I shout as I type at the keyboard and hit send.
Hkjsuy sihkh
I just wanted to type something. Anything to let her know I’m still here. ‘Oh, Bozy,’ I say, climbing back up to my bed beside him. I keep the Kindle on my lap.
Betsy - please call the helpline. Goodbye. And Happy Christmas.
The Kindle screen goes blank. I let out a big, big breath and then cuddle into Bozy. I feel really sad that Sana has gone. But I also feel really excited. That was the first time I’ve spoken to anybody other than Dod since I was four. I decide I must practice how to type, in case that message thingy ever comes up again. Next time, I’ll be ready.
I press at the screen of my Kindle. The box that Sana’s words were on is gone. There are just words saying:
Software update needed.
It won’t let me go to the page where all my books are. This Christmas is getting worse and worse. I have nothing to do. I crawl out of bed, walk over to my book shelves and look at all the books on there.
‘No. Too baby-ish. No. Too baby-ish. No. No. No. No. Hmmmmm. No.’
I keep saying no at every book I see. Then I let out a really big yawn and when it is finished I feel tears in my eyes. I fall down onto my knees and let the tears pour out. Then I bang my hands onto the floor. I just want to get all of the sadness out. Maybe if I get it all out, I might feel happy again. I was stupid robbing Dod’s newspaper articles. Because I was the happiest girl I ever was when he used to let me upstairs to look out his window. And now here I am, in my basement doing nothing all the time. If I’m not sleeping, I’m yawning. Every day seems to go really, really slowly.
My crying gets louder and louder as I lie on the floor. I can feel my whole body shake as I cry. Then the key rattles in the door.
‘Betsy, Betsy, what’s wrong?’ Dod walks down the steps quickly. I don’t raise my head to look at him. I’m still bent over on my knees with my head on the floor.
His arms lift me up.
‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ he says.
He takes my hands away from my face. Then he rubs his fingers under my eyes, wipes up some of the tears.
‘This,’ I say, then cry again. ‘Is. The. Worst. Christmas. Ever.’ I sob in between each word until my sentence comes out.
He holds me close and suddenly I don’t feel so sad anymore. This is the first time he has hugged me in ten months, since he beat me up for finding the newspaper article.
After a really, really long hug, Dod lifts me up a bit and puts me on the edge of the bed. Then he sits beside me.
‘It’s been a pretty shit Christmas for me too,’ he says.
I look up at him.
‘I’m so sorry, Dod. I am sorry for everything. I shouldn’t have taken your newspaper articles. I was really bad. You were right to get really angry and beat me up. I will never do anything like that again. I promise. I promise. I promise. I just want us to be friends. I hate it when we don’t talk.’
Dod puts his arm around me and drags me into him. Then he kisses the top of my head.
‘Those articles weren’t about you,’ he says. ‘That’s another little girl. And… I hate it when we don’t talk too. I want us to be friends.’
I get away from his arm and look at him.
‘The newspapers weren’t about me?’
He laughs a little bit.
‘Betsy; I’ve told you this before. You weren’t the little girl taken. Your Mummy and Daddy died, so I had to look after you. You know this. I told you this before.’
I don’t think I believe him. I remember him taking me. I remember being on the wall and walking and then Dod putting his hand on my mouth and around my legs. He took me when I was looking at my Daddy. My Mummy and Daddy weren’t dead when he took me. But I really don’t care. I hold up both my arms and then wrap them around Dod. I need him to be my friend. I hate living if I’m not friends with Dod. The days are really, really bad when we aren’t friends.
‘I love you, Dod,’ I say.
He kisses the top of my head again.
‘I love you too, Betsy.’
We hug for ages. Then after he lets me go, he picks up the Kindle.
‘Ah, you need a system update,’ he says. ‘Let me sort this out for you. Why don’t you come upstairs with me. There’s a Christmas film on the TV, you can watch that while I fix your Kindle, huh?’
I smile at him. Then I grab his hand and we both walk up the steps. This is the happiest I’ve felt in a long, long time.
‘Happy Christmas, Dod.’
14:40
Lenny
‘What the fook are you talking about. Kiddie porn?’ Guus snaps, narrowing his eyes again.
Lenny clasps his hands together atop the table, then nods his head slowly.
‘Don’t just sit there nodding,’ Guus says. ‘Tell me what you mean by kiddie porn?’
Lenny’s cool demeanour begins to wear away again. He just can’t stay consistent with it; it keeps coming and going. He begins to blink rapidly, then shifts uncomfortably in his chair. He didn’t get enough information from Frank Keville to follow through on his claims; he was in too much of a rush. Is not sure where to take the conversation from here. He coughs lightly into his hand.
‘Yes. I have it on good authority that you were charged with possession of child pornography.’
‘This ish unbelievable,’ Guus says. He stands up again, spins in his kitchen, his hands on his hips. ‘Not this shit again.’ He pauses, facing away from Lenny and takes in three long breaths. ‘I’ve been through this with the cops. I have never had any interest in child pornography. And this was all proven. I was just checking on paedophilia, to see what is classed as paedophilia exactly… because I myshelf was sexually abused as a child. I was doing research for my own sanity.’ Guus spins back around, faces Lenny. ‘I put my laptop in to be repaired one day, next day I know the cops are at my door wanting to talk to me.’
Lenny looks sheepishly up at Guus.
‘And?’
‘What do you mean ‘and’?’ They fooking let me go because it was nothing. They looked at the computer – nothing. I wasn’t watching child porn, I was researching paedophilia. That’sh it. Then when Betsy went missing, they dragged all this shit up again because they had nothing elshe to go on… they questioned me about Betsy for four hours in Kilmainham Station before they realised I had nothing to do with it. They said they’d never tell anyone I was a shuspect because the links to my paedophilia search were so sensitive and so innocent… Now, here you are, dragging all this shit up again.’
Lenny rubs at his own temple, still unsure whether or not to believe everything he’s just heard.
‘How did you find out that I was questioned about Betsy?’ Guus asks, his face turning stone cold.
Lenny shifts in his seat again.
‘I can’t divulge that information.’
Guus paces towards him, crouches down so he is face on with the investigator, their noses just centimetres apart. Lenny can taste his stale breath.
‘You have fooking nothing on me.’
Lenny holds his eyes wide open, determined not to produce his tic with his suspect in such close proximity. They eyeball each other, seconds passing without either of them blinking. Then Lenny’s jacket buzzes, causing them to break the standoff. Guus leans back to an upright position. Lenny gulps, then removes his phone from his pocket. Gordon. When the ringing stops, he checks the time on his screen. 14:49. Jesus – Gordon only has e
leven minutes. Lenny stares down at his own feet resting under Guus’s table and tries to think everything through. The end goal is securing the house. He’s got to call Gordon back before his surgeries.
‘Guus, let’s take a time out. Two minutes for us each to calm down. Then I have one more question for you and once that’s answered I’ll be out of your hair.’ Guus doesn’t say anything, he’s too busy circling his kitchen floor, his anxiety evident. ‘I just wanna make a quick phone call, get all my ducks in order and then we can rule you out of our investigation. Am I clear?’
Guus shifts his eyes sideways, to look at Lenny. Then he nods his head.
‘As long as it’sh to rule me out,’ he says.
Lenny stands up, nods his head at Guus as he passes him and then makes his way out of the kitchen. He looks right, takes in the door of the basement again, wonders what’s behind it, before turning left towards the front door. When he’s outside, he palms his phone, presses at Gordon’s number. The call is answered before he even hears a dial tone.
‘Lenny, what the hell’s going on?’ Gordon snaps down the line, though he sounds as if he’s whispering it, as if somebody might be in earshot that he doesn’t want listening in.
‘I’m at Guus Meyer’s house,’ Lenny says, almost in a whisper himself. ‘Guus was a suspect for De Brun back in the day, Gordon. They never told you about him because of some sensitive information relating to the cop’s interest in him. But I’m questioning him about all of that now and I’ll have answers for you in the next few minutes. I’m going in to search his house now.’
‘Are you telling me Guus took Betsy?’
Lenny stares back at the house.
‘That’s what I intend finding out.’
‘They’re coming to get me for my surgery in a few minutes. I don’t have much time, minutes…’
‘Gordon, I promise you I will ring you back before three o’clock. Guus’s house is odd. Very odd. There’s something not quite right about it. He has a basement that I wanna get inside. After I check it all out, I promise I will ring you back. And I’ll have answers for you. Now… are you keeping your promise to me?’
The Tick-Tock Trilogy Box Set Page 45
