EPISODE EIGHTY-FOUR
Craig stared at the no smoking sticker on the taxi window and inhaled deeply,
imagining the warm smoke being sucked down into his lungs. It was nearly three years since he’d given
up, but now he could really murder a cigarette.
‘Nice day,’ said the driver, attempting conversation for the second time.
Craig grunted and stared out of the window.
The driver took the hint this time and turned up the radio, and began
whistling tunelessly to a Travis recording.
It began to grate on Craig’s nerves, and he was relieved when the number
ended and the local news began.
The driver pulled up close to Tonbridge Police Station. ‘Here we are.
The cop shop. That’s ten-eighty
on the meter.’
Craig leaned forward across the front passenger seat, alert and listening. ‘Hang about.
I wanna hear this.’
The newsreader was saying: ‘...and two men have been charged in connection with
the Tunbridge Wells Working Men’s Club murder.
Both men are local, and one of the men, who was released from prison just
over six months ago, has been named as thirty-seven year old Anthony Rice from
Tonbridge. Rice worked as a local cabby
until recently. The other man has been
named as father-of-two...’
Craig didn’t catch the rest of it. The
taxi driver gave a sudden whoop of recognition.
‘Blimey! I remember him. He worked for our firm. What a nutter. Went smack into a BMW down near the Pantiles,
and just walked away. Left ‘is cab in
the middle of the road. What a nutter.’
Craig leaned back in his seat. ‘Keep the
meter running. You’ve got another
fare. I’m going back to the chip
shop. I left something behind.’
‘Chip shop to cop shop and cop shop to chip shop,’ chortled the driver. ‘Now the question is...’
‘No,’ Craig cut in. ‘I ain’t coming back
here. No need.’
*
Mike stopped off at the White Hart for a lunchtime drink, and rang his
home. After letting it ring for ages, he
was about to hang up when his son answered, sounding breathless.
‘Hi, Andy. It’s Dad. You been running.’
‘I was rushing to get to the phone. I
heard it from outside.’
‘Where’s Mum?’
‘Haven’t a clue. If she was in, she’d
have answered, wouldn’t she? Hang on:
there’s a note here. It says she’s gone
up to Newcastle to see Chloe. And she’s staying over.’
‘She never mentioned she was going.’
Andrew chuckled. ‘Does that mean we can
have a Chinese takeaway tonight?’
‘If you like. And I’ll get in some
beer.’
‘How about hiring a DVD?’
‘Don’t push your luck.’
There was a brief pause, then Andrew said awkwardly, ‘I suppose...she is all
right, isn’t she?’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘This morning...I was waiting to use the bathroom. She was in there ages. I thought I could hear her crying. Is Chloe in trouble again?’
‘I don’t think so. I think this is your
mother’s problem.’
‘What’s wrong with her?’
Without realizing he was doing it, Mike stroked and patted his beer
stomach. ‘Well, we’re none of us getting
any younger. I expect she’s just going
through that time of life.’
*
‘You look terrible,’ Donald told Ted
when he met him outside the Opera House pub.
‘Fleas keeping you awake, are they?’
Ted shivered and scratched his head.
‘Don’t joke about it. I think I’m
infested.’
Donald took a giant sideways step away from him. ‘Well, don’t come near me.’ Then, seeing the hurt, bewildered expression
on his friend’s face, he added, ‘Come on – crack your face. It can’t be that bad.’
‘It’s a hell-hole. I don’t get any
sleep.’
Donald smiled warmly. ‘Cheer up! I’m here to tell you your worries are
over. You may have sunk to the lower
depths, but now you are reinstated. And
it’s all thanks to Uncle Donald.’
*
Dave slapped a bundle of paper money onto the kitchen table. ‘Feast your peepers on that then. What a sight for sore eyes.’
Mary gave him a lukewarm smile. ‘I’m
very pleased for you.’
‘Cheer up, sweetheart – it’s not every day I get a yankee come up. There’s over two-hundred there. I’ll get the kids a treat. We can go out, soon as they get home from
school.’
Mary stood at the kitchen window and stared out at the neglected garden without
replying. After an awkward silence, Dave
sighed and said, ‘Come on, love – when it’s half term, you can come up to Blackpool
for the week. The kids’ll enjoy it. You will, an’ all.’
‘I just wish you weren’t going.’
‘We’ve been through all this. I’ve got
to go. I’ve signed the contract.’
Mary turned to face him. ‘You seem to
think I’m exaggerating about Ronnie.’
‘No, I don’t. But it’s a lot of water
under the bridge. People change. Time being the healer, an’ all that.’
‘Not Ronnie. The bastard’s consistent.’
‘I thought you said he was unpredictable.’
‘He’s consistently unpredictable.’
Seeing a slight twinkle in Mary’s eye, Dave laughed and came towards her. ‘Is that a little smile I can see?’ He put his arms round her. ‘I love you.
You know I wouldn’t let anything happen...’
The doorbell rang.
‘Saved by the bell,’ said Mary, smiling now as she thought of the dishevelled
return of her sons. ‘They’re home early
for a change. I’ll go.’
She walked down the hall, wearing her most welcoming smile, and threw open the
front door. Her smile vanished instantly
and it was like being punched in the stomach.
He stood leaning nonchalantly against the porch, wearing that same
arrogant expression she could never forget.
‘Hi,’ said Ronnie. ‘I hope I haven’t
called at an inconvenient time.’
IN EPISODE EIGHTY-FIVE
Mary wonders what Ronnie’s game is, and Pran is in serious trouble at work.