Beck le Street

by Tony McHale

  The first person he saw was Farrah Gregory pulling pints behind the bar. Charlie looked at her for a few moments. She’d worn well and still looked good. He worked out she must be in her forties now and she’d been a barmaid at The Black Dog for as long as he could remember. The drinks she was pulling were for Lucas Kenyon and Amos Mann, both locals and both instantly recognisable to Charlie. Lucas was one of those kids who were always big for his age and he’d carried that size with him all the way. Now at thirty-six he was an odd job man around the village, turning his hand to anything and everything. Amos Mann was a year older than his best mate, but nothing like his size. He was small, wiry and shrewder. He had one of those metabolisms that seemed to attack everything Amos consumed, from alcohol to food, in such a way that he never put on weight. He trained as an electrician, but was known as unreliable, so it was only as a last resort that any of locals hired him. Both men were born and bred in Beck le Street and were well known as a couple who were not averse to the odd illegal dealing here and there, illegal dealings that were quite often beneficial to other village inhabitants.

  The pub itself hadn’t changed. It had the same large patterned flock paper adorning the walls and the same padded benches and well-worn tables and chairs. Even the till was still the same and the only thing that showed any leaning towards modernity was a Packard Bell laptop on the end of the bar and a mobile phone, laying on the bar in front of Lucas.

  Farrah was the first to spot Charlie and she clearly couldn’t quite believe what or more to the point, who she was seeing.

  “Charlie….?” Although it was a question, she knew the answer. Lucas and Amos turned to look at the prodigal son.

  “Hi Farrah,” replied Charlie. Sixteen years and it was like yesterday. He liked Farrah. She’d been such an agreeable feature of his early life, that he couldn’t hide his feelings. Then with the eyes of Lucas and Amos still on him, he continued, “Lucas … Amos …”

  Both of them were as surprised as Farrah to see him and in their moment of shock were unable to say anything.

  “Your dad never mentioned anything about you coming,” Farrah went on forgetting completely about the pint she was pulling.

  “I tried ringing, got no answer.”

  “He gave up answering the phone. Didn’t want to speak to anyone.” Then suddenly wondering, she spewed out, “You do know … about your mum?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “I just … for a minute … thought this might be a coincidence.”

  “No … no coincidence,” said Charlie, putting her at ease.

  “Really sorry Charlie.”

  Again Charlie just nodded, not knowing what to say.

  “He’s upstairs … your dad … with the police.”

  “The police?” Charlie wondered why the police were there.

  “Yeah … they needed to talk to him. Go on up,” continued Farrah naturally.

  Charlie faltered for a moment. His hope had been to walk into the bar and discover his father there. What he didn’t want to do was climb the stairs to the living quarters. This seemed somehow to be wrong, too invasive. This was no longer his home, he didn’t belong here and he had no right to wander around the place as if he did.

  “Will you tell him I’m here?”

  “I’d go up. He’ll probably he glad of the interruption.” Farrah, leaving the half filled pint glass on the bar, moved to lift the hatch on the bar.

  Lucas and Amos still hadn’t said anything, but hadn’t taken their eyes off the intruder in their midst. Charlie started to head tentatively towards the back of the bar, which would take him to the living quarters.

  “No celebs here Charlie lad,” Lucas piped up unprompted. Charlie didn’t know what to say, so he just gave Lucas a smile.

  “Unless you wanted to take photos of Amos and me,” Lucas continued.

  Charlie felt like pointing out that the statement made no sense, but he knew Lucas was just trying to provoke a reaction.

  “Who knows,” Charlie replied, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. He continued towards the stairs.

  “Doing well Charlie boy. More power to your elbow.” This time it was Amos joining in the barely disguised needling of the interloper. As for Charlie, for some reason he hated the phrase more power to your elbow; what the hell did it mean? Nothing …. You might as well say more power to your clavicle. Charlie again tried to get by with just a faint smile.

  “Wouldn’t mind a job like his, eh Lucas? Must be easier than working for a living.”

  Charlie couldn’t resist, “Oh it is … much easier. These days I don’t even have to take the shots myself. I have this group of school kids who just hang around celebs all day, pay them twenty quid a week each … I tell you I’m like Fagin.”

  Lucas and Amos looked at him, not sure if he was having them on or not. Farrah knew he was and let out a laugh.

  “Who’s Fagin when he’s at home?” Lucas’s enquiry was genuine.

  But Amos had realised that Farrah’s laugh was at their expense.

  “You taking the piss Charlie boy?” Amos asked with a slightly threatening tone.

  “Course he is,” said Farrah. “How thick are you?”

  “Got some balls have you, being the big man in London.”

  Again Charlie wondered what the statement meant.

  “Fucking fancy yourself do you?” continued Amos sounding insidious without being full on threatening.

  “No. Do you fancy me? I just thought now I’m a big shot in London … I might be turning you on.”

  Amos instinctively started off the barstool. In a place like The Black Dog ‘gay jokes’ are good fodder for amusement as long as they never refer to any one of the regulars. Charlie had just crossed that line …

  When Charlie lived there he knew never to get smart with these two, but for some reason, he had failed to remember that crucial fact at this crucial point. Recently he’d been in a fight in Soho House, a private members club in London. He’d taken photos of a young ‘celeb’ snorting cocaine along with her boyfriend, a two-bit actor off Hollyoaks. The actor understandably had taken umbrage and threw a few accurate punches, which Charlie could still feel the effects of. But he was banking on the fact that Lucas Kenyon and Amos Mann wouldn’t dare touch him – not in The Black Dog. They wouldn’t risk being banned. This was their feeding ground. They spent more time here than they did in their domestic lairs. Nevertheless Amos squared up to Charlie.

  “Amos …” Farrah sent out a warning. But that wasn’t what made Amos sit back down on his bar stool. His retreat was due to the appearance of Jed Ashton, Charlie’s father. He was preceded into the bar by DI Jack Wood. Their arrival on the scene motivated Amos to quit his aggressive stance and any residue of the confrontation quickly ebbed away when Jed saw his son standing at the bar. His reaction was one of bewilderment. He knew this was his son, but he couldn’t figure out what he was doing in his pub. It was Charlie who offered the olive branch.

  “Dad …”

  “Charlie … what you …?” Jed didn’t finish the question.

  “I had to come.”

  “Right.” Charlie realised his father’s grief wasn’t softening his personality.

  There was a silence. Nobody really knowing what to say. Charlie again broke the moment.

  “How you feeling?” Charlie asked his dad, knowing the question was lame to say the least.

  Jed just looked at him as if to say …. Are you serious?

  “You’re his lad are you?” interrupted Wood.

  “Yes.”

  “We might need to talk to you at some point.”

  “About what?”

  “About ….” Wood’s words dried up. He studied Charlie for a moment. It was clear the young man in front of him had no idea what had happened to his mot
her. “You do know what’s happened, don’t you?”

  “Are you talking about my mother’s death?”

  “Aye. Your father has agreed to help us with our investigation … and we might need to talk to you.”

  “Investigation … what investigation? What’s happened?”

  “Anyone tell you how your mother … ?” Wood looked round for help. He was sinking fast.

  “No.”

  Wood looked at Jed, his expression asking for an explanation.

  “I didn’t tell him,” Jed said in a blunt monotone.

  “Right. I’m sorry … I just assumed …” stuttered Wood.

  “Assumed what?” Charlie’s mind was starting to race. What the hell is this about?

  “Farrah get me a large scotch and whatever the boy wants.”

  Charlie looked round for the boy, then realised he was the boy.

  “Charlie …? What’s your poison?” asked Farrah.

  “Babyfuckingcham,” Lucas said under his breath. Jed pretended not to hear, but he had and Charlie knew he had.

  “A bottle of something …”

  “Ginger beer.” Amos gave a little laugh.

  “Yeah – right, ginger beer. Good ‘un.” Lucas was always at least two beats behind everyone else.

  “Got a Sol …” as soon as he’d said it, Charlie wished he hadn’t.

  “A Sol …? No – sorry,” said Farrah looking at Charlie as if to say … Come on dear, this is The Black Dog not some Chelsea wine bar. “How about a bottle of Carlsberg?”

  “Yeah … great.”

  “I’ll bring them across.”

  Jed had already gone and sat in the corner of the pub and was waiting for Charlie to join him. This was familiar territory for Charlie. This was the corner his father always used to tell people things. He would use it to tell his punters they’d misbehaved, he’d use it to do deals with the bread man, he used it to tell his wife that she needed to call a halt to her ever expanding wardrobe – this was the telling table.

  “I’ll be back later,” said Wood as he headed for the door and Lucas and Amos turned to carry on drinking.

  Charlie sat down opposite his father. Jed didn’t seem to have changed that much in fifteen years.

  “He must be fifty-five … fifty-six,” thought Charlie. He was grey, but he still had a full head of hair. He was a big man, just over six foot and still looked quite fit and healthy. Charlie remembered his father’s advice when he was about fourteen … “You’re going to have to put some more meat on you, for when you take over this place. Scrawny landlords never get no respect and to keep order you need respect.” Charlie knew even then that there was more chance of him inventing a car that ran on water than taking over the pub.

  “So what’s going on dad? What’s happened? Why are the police involved?”

  “You didn’t have to come back. You know that.”

  “No I don’t.”

  “You walked out of here aged sixteen … without so much as a by your leave … You broke your mother’s heart. How do you think you being here now’s going to change that …eh? Ease your conscience will it? Make you feel better.”

  “I made my peace with mum.”

  “Like hell you did!” Jed’s voice was raised, but none of the other three people in the bar seemed to notice. “She let you think that.”

  “I don’t want to argue dad …”

  “Maybe I do. Maybe that’s exactly what I want. The last time you phoned her was two years ago … that’s making peace with her? She took her mobile with her all the time in case you called. You’re talking bull shit.” Jed stared straight into Charlie’s eyes. Charlie just looked straight back him. The days of being intimidated by his father were well over. That being said the fact he hadn’t spoken to his mother since Devika moved in with him made him feel guilty. He hadn’t realised it was that long and now he could never make it up to her.

  “Just tell me how she died dad. That’s all I want to know.”

  For a moment it looked like his father wasn’t going to tell him, then he started to speak and Charlie quickly realised this wasn’t for his benefit, this was a cathartic exercise. He wanted to hear his own words.

  “When I woke she wasn’t there … I always wake first … she never wakes first. I go to bed first … I wake first, that’s the way it is. Then I get up and make us both a cup of tea … then we drink it in bed. We watch the news … on the telly … We’ve got a little one in the bedroom.”

  “I remember you having a little twelve inch thing … is it still the same one?” Charlie wasn’t sure why he asked the question, he just felt his father needed some help.

  “Yeah … that’s the one,” continued Jed. “With her not being there I didn’t switch it on … I just got my dressing gown on and went downstairs. She wasn’t in the kitchen … so I went into the bar and that’s when I saw it.”

  “Saw what?” asked Charlie.

  Jed pointed at the dartboard on the wall across from where they were sitting. “On the board … written in chalk …”

  “What was?”

  “It said … ‘Peace at Last.’ Written in chalk … where they put the scores. The only words anybody puts on there are names … players names … They never write ‘owt else. Never.”

  “Did you show the police?”

  “No. I just rubbed it off.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “I didn’t think it was important.”

  “She was missing and you didn’t think it was important?

  Charlie couldn’t stop his eyes flicking away leaving Jed having no doubt what he was thinking.

  “Hey … anyone would have done that. I didn’t know she was dead … did I?”

  “No I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to …” apologised Charlie.

  “Yeah you did … Your eyes said it all … How stupid could I be? Well I was just trying to keep the place tidy … that’s all.”

  “Sorry,” Charlie apologised again. “Please … go on.”

  “You sure you don’t want to tell me how stupid I’ve been … sure you don’t want to do that?”

  “Please dad …”

  Farrah arrived with the drinks and placed them on the table. Jed picked his up straight away and took a hefty slug.

  “Get me another will you …”

  Farrah just raised her hand indicating she’d do as asked.

  “So after seeing the words ‘Peace at Last’ what happened?” Charlie was eager to move it on.

  “I noticed the door was open …” This time Jed indicated the front door of the pub. “We never leave it open … so I assumed she’d gone out. Gone to the shop. You got a car here?”

  The question came out of the blue and for a second threw Charlie.

  “Yeah … in the car park.”

  “Come on.” Jed got up and Charlie followed him obediently out of the pub, leaving Farrah pouring a large scotch, which she would keep for him for when he returned.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Jed didn’t comment on the Range Rover, didn’t ask any questions, he just gave directions as they headed onto the moors. Charlie hadn’t the foggiest what this was all about.

  Eventually up ahead Charlie saw a couple of parked police cars and Charlie realised this was where they were headed.

  “Pull up just behind the cop cars.”

  As soon as Charlie pulled over to park, a Policeman was out of his car and headed towards them. There was a determination about the policeman’s step and Charlie knew he was going to move them on. He’d seen that look in security personnel’s eyes all over the world.

  “Sorry,” started the policeman, “you can’t stop here.” Then he recognised Jed as he climbed out of the passenger seat. “Oh Mr Ashton …didn’t reali
se it was you.”

  “This is my son.”

  “How do you do,” the policeman uttered politely.

  Charlie just nodded.

  “I wanted to show him …” Jed said in way of explanation and the policeman understood without hesitation.

  “Sure. You can’t go past the tape though.”

  “No.”

  Jed started walking on to the moors. Charlie was on one side of his father, the Policeman on the other. It was only a short walk before Charlie saw the reason for them being there. Before them like an oasis in the middle of the rugged coarse green terrain was a large area cordoned off with blue and white police tape. In the centre of the area was a tent. Charlie had seen them often enough on the news to know it was the type of tent forensic teams used to cover bodies.

  “That’s where they found her.” Jed’s voice started to waiver. “They said it was suicide … I saw the photographs. Her body was all twisted … she had on that short denim skirt … I used to say it was too short … and her pink tee shirt … the clothes she was wearing the night before. They were all splattered with blood. My shotgun was by her side.” Then Jed halted his telling of the tale. He just stared at the tent for what seem like an age. Then he quietly said. “I can’t … I can’t get it out of my mind.”

  “She was killed? She was murdered?” Charlie can’t believe what he’s saying. “Who did it … who’d want to kill her?”

  “They’re saying it’s suicide … they’re saying she took her own life. I’ve been married to her for thirty odd years … we’ve hardly spent a day apart … That amount of time together … you get to know someone … you get to know them… And I knew Caroline. I knew her like no one else. And I know … I know for certain, she would never ... never … commit suicide. Never! She was murdered … she was murdered.”

  * * * * *

  It was Jed who had suggested he might go to the mortuary. He thought Charlie might like to see his mother for the last time. Charlie hadn’t hesitated. He knew he had to go there. He had to see that she was really dead and this wasn’t just some awful nightmare.