EPISODE ONE-HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN
As soon as Vanessa
arrived home and went into the living room, she knew it was bad news. A bad atmosphere hung in the air like a
repugnant odour, and she could see her mother had been crying. She sank into the sofa, next to Nicky.
‘What’s happened?’
‘It’s your father. He’s passed away.’
‘In other words,’ Nicky spat out bitterly, ‘he’s dead.’
Vanessa sat with her hands clutched tight, examining her feelings. Neither of them had been close to their
father. They saw him occasionally, maybe
three times a year. But he always
remembered their birthdays, sent them cards, usually with a fifty pound note
inside. The same at Christmas. But he had been a remote man, taciturn and
cold. Vanessa couldn’t ever remember a
time when he had hugged her; or even pecked her on the cheek. He liked to keep a distance between himself
and his family, as if he resented his own inadequacy as a parent.
After a long silence, Vanessa cleared her throat lightly before speaking. ‘It’s a shame, I know. But we were never close. Any of us.
We had no relationship with him at all.’
Nicky shuddered and began sobbing.
Vanessa wondered why she was so upset.
‘I feel...’ Nicky began, between gulping and crying. ‘I feel guilty. I don’t even know what he did for a living.’
‘He didn’t like to talk about it,’ said Jackie.
‘He worked for British Aerospace, selling something. That’s why he travelled abroad so much before
he took early retirement.’
Vanessa frowned as she stared at her mother.
‘You mean he was an arms dealer?’
‘Components he said. Whatever he did, he
was quite successful. When we split up
he left us this house, and bought a small one for himself – the one in East Pekham. And about a
year ago he telephoned me and told me he’d had a minor heart attack.. So it prompted him into making a will. He’s left everything to you two; whatever money he’s saved, plus the proceeds
of the house. That should brighten
up the tragic news.’
This last statement, Vanessa noticed, was spoken with venom. And she wondered if her mother resented being
excluded from the will.
Nicky wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and composed herself. She spoke to her sister, with a nod in her
mother’s direction.
‘There’s something she’s not telling us.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘About our father. The way he died.’
Vanessa stared at Jackie. ‘Well, come
on. We’ve a right to know.’
Jackie shuddered. ‘He suffocated
himself.’
‘You mean he committed suicide?’ asked Vanessa.
Jackie shook her head. ‘I’d sooner
not...’
‘We’re going to find out eventually,’ yelled Nicky. ‘There’ll be an enquiry. So you might as well tell us what happened.’
‘Well,’ urged Vanessa, leaning forward on the sofa, ‘did he commit suicide or
not?’
Tears rolled down Jackie’s face. ‘It was
an accident. It’s too disgusting for
words. Oh all right: if you must
know. You’re going to find out sooner or
later, anyway. He was watching a
disgusting film on the video.’
‘You mean pornography?’ said Vanessa.
Jackie nodded. ‘And he was...he was doing
it to himself...while he watched it.’
Vanessa shrugged. ‘I bet lots of men
do. So what?’
‘He was using a belt which he tied around his throat. Apparently it does something...I’m not sure
what.’
‘It’s called something,’ said Nicky.
‘There’s a name for it.’
Vanessa stared at the carpet, and held her hands level as she searched her
memory. ‘Auto erotic asphyxiation.’
‘Whatever it is,’ snapped Jackie. ‘It’s
brought disgrace on the family. The
disgusting bastard.’
Vanessa laughed, and Nicky and her mother stared at her, as if they couldn’t
quite believe they had heard right.
‘Our father,’ she laughed. ‘A component salesman. Anyone’d think he was a rock singer.’
*
Ted still slept in the spare room. He
was on an early shift and he was finding difficulty in getting to sleep. After a long struggle, with many voices in
his head, tugging and pulling and keeping him restless, he eventually managed
to drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
He had been asleep less than ten minutes when a hand on his shoulder
shook him awake.
‘Ted! Ted! Wake up!’ Marjorie hissed.
He sat bolt upright, scared that something might be wrong with his
daughter. ‘What’s happened?’
Marjorie’s irritated voice came to him in the dark. ‘Nothing’s wrong. She just wants her feed. She’s crying.
Didn’t you hear her?’
‘No, I’ve only just got to sleep.’
‘She wants feeding.’
‘Can’t you feed her?’
‘No I can’t. It’s your turn.’
Ted’s voice whined from a combined feeling of tiredness and injustice. ‘But I’m on the early shift.’
‘Are you going to feed her or not?’
Marjorie’s voice sounded ominous in the dark, as if she were capable of
committing a heinous act if crossed.
Ted sighed. ‘Yes. All right.
But what about my early shift?’
‘What about it?’
‘It’s just that it’s not fair.’
Marjorie snorted. ‘Life’s not fair. And I have to look after her all the time
you’re at work. I need a break. A rest.’
‘She sleeps most of the time.’
‘Yes, well, she’s not sleeping now, is she?’
Ted listened to the urgent crying, louder now, starting to choke with hunger
and a craving for attention. He sighed
again as he swung his legs out from under the duvet.
‘Okay. I’ll go,’ he relented.
‘That’s big of you,’ snapped Marjorie as she swept out to return to her own
room.
Ted struggled to find the sleeve of his dressing gown. ‘Don’t cry, poppet!’ he called. ‘Daddy’s coming. Daddy’s coming.’
*
Ronnie tapped the door knocker softly.
He could hear soft music coming from the back of the house, probably the
kitchen. He waited. But no one came. He checked his watch to make sure it was the
right time. It was a little after eleven-thirty, just like she’d said. He banged the knocker again, this time
slightly louder.
While he waited, he could feel anger growing inside him, rising to the surface. If the bitch had changed her mind...
He checked the street, making certain no one was passing by, then went to the
side of the house and clicked the latch on the gate. He expected to find it bolted, but she had
either forgotten to lock it or one of the children had. He pushed open the creaking gate, felt his
way along the side wall of the house, then turned the corner. There was a light on in the kitchen and he
peered through the stippled glass of the back door and couldn’t see any shadows
or movement from within. And, apart from
the radio playing an old Carpenter’s number, the house was silent. Perhaps she had gone to bed, thinking he
would give up and go away. Chance would
be a fine thing! There was no way he was
going to go away now, having come this far.
Not expecting to break in as he had before, he had neglected to bring any tools
with him. So he searched around the
garden until he found a large stone. His
anger was mounting now, and he couldn’t have cared less about the noise it would
make. He hit the stone hard against the
glass, smashing it over and over. It
seemed to make a hell of a noise, but by now he was frantic and boiling with
anger. He reached inside the door, found
the large, old-fashioned key and turned it.
Then he flung open the door and entered.
He marched angrily through the kitchen and into the hall, then swung
round and took the stairs two at a time.
There was a suspicion growing inside him, feeding his anger and
desperation. As soon as he flung open
the bedroom doors he knew. The bitch had
crossed him. She had taken the children
and gone out for the night.
With no clear aim in mind, he ran downstairs and threw open the front
door. He was confronted by two uniformed
policemen.
‘Hold it right there,’ said one of them.
Instinctively, he turned round, knowing he could get out the back door, but a
figure appeared at the kitchen doorway.
Plain clothes and holding out his ID to Ronnie.
‘You’re not going anywhere, sir. I’m
arresting you for breaking and entering.
If you are asked questions about the offence, you do not have to say
anything. But it may harm your defence
if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in
court. Anything you do say may be given
in evidence.’
Ronnie shrugged. He’d been caught bang
to rights. She’d set him up and he’d
walked into her trap. And for that the
bitch would have to pay. Maybe not now,
or tomorrow, or next year even. But
eventually she would pay for it.
IN EPISODE 116
Mandy confronts Craig about her employer’s drink problem.