CHAPTER NINETEEN

It was almost like a happy family. Dale Crawford sat at the end of the table, enjoying his breakfast. For a moment, he felt there wasn’t a problem in the world. To his left sat Bobby. He had recovered from his adventure the previous night. Dale had thought of bringing up the subject, but decided against it. The boy needed less trauma at the moment, not more. Hence, he felt that if he ignored it, his son would be fine.
To his right sat Julia. Intermittently, they held hands, prompting Bobby to declare ‘yuck!’ but they were undeterred. She had stayed the night. It had felt comfortable. It had felt right. But the implications were legion, though Dale had decided to ignore this problem too. He sat contentedly eating a contented breakfast with his contented family and he felt good. He felt perfect. Until Julia destroyed the illusion.
‘I’ve got to see Vernie,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘To tell him it’s over.’
‘Let him works it out for himself.’
‘No, I’ve got to do the right thing.’
‘I’ll tell him for you.’
‘I’m not a coward, Dale.’
‘I know that.’
‘So you understand. I’ve got to do it myself.’

DI Summers felt uncomfortable as he walked down the street, though not as uncomfortable as he should have been. He sported a perfect black eye and dull head. His nose was still sore after waking up in a pool of blood by his pillow.
This did, of course, add new life to his investigation. He had been attacked, and he intended to get to the bottom of it. Indeed, not only had he been attacked, he was sure he had had his drink spiked. And spiking an officer of the law was, to him, a hanging matter.
The butcher’s shop had just opened.
‘You leave my pies alone,’ said Thadias as the detective walked in.
‘I wouldn’t touch your pies.’
‘You’ve got a right shiner there.’
‘And what do you know about it?’
‘Why should I know anything?’
‘You were in the pub last night.’
‘So were you. It’s not a crime.’
‘I’ve got my eye on you.’
Was it him, thought Summers as he walked out. Get him worried. He’ll soon make a mistake if it was him. But deep down he felt it wasn’t Thadias Grimes. He was sure that, if he had attacked him, he would have used his cleaver. Perhaps, he thought, he should get himself armed.

Bobby Crawford left the happy environment of his contented family to go to school. At least, that is what his happy, contented family thought. But Bobby Crawford had other ideas. No way was he going there again. They don’t teach you right, he thought. Okay, they may be alright at history or geography, or English or maths, but when it came to right or wrong, they had no idea. Get bullied and do nothing, that’s right. Get bullied and do something about it, how can THAT be wrong. Surely that is right. But life is a topsy turvy, upside down place for a confused boy of his age.
He had lots to be confused about. First of all, there was his dad’s habit of bringing women back to the house. Well, okay, maybe not women in the sense of lots of them, but there was Rachel Hollis and now Julia James.
He thought about them as he walked down the street. He didn’t like Rachel. She never played with him, never spoke; even ignored him in the street. There wasn’t much in the way of family there, and he was glad they had argued and she might not come again.
Julia James was different. She seemed nice, but she was new in dad’s life. He had known her all his life, but never in this context. Maybe she could be his new mother? He decided he wasn’t averse to the idea, but maybe it was too soon to tell. And anyway, he was back to the right or wrong thing. After all, wasn’t Julia James married? And wasn’t it true that married people only slept with their partner?
Bobby Crawford obviously had a lot to learn about the world.

Dale Crawford left the house soon after Bobby. He kissed Julia goodbye before getting into his taxi. Driving off, he suddenly found himself forced to stop. He was just going up a gear when DI Summers jumped in front of the car. Dale slammed on the brakes, coming to a stop less than an inch from the detective. ‘Are you mad?’ he shouted through his open window.
DI Summers walked casually around the car. ‘Madness, he said, ‘is a matter of opinion.’
‘Well what you just did is mad.’
‘And where were you last night?’
‘You know damned …’ Dale Crawford stopped suddenly. He noticed the black eye, remembered how he got it. He thought fast. ‘Maybe you should tell me where you were?’
‘I beg your pardon.’
Dale smirked. ‘It seems to me you can’t remember.’
‘Meaning what?’
‘Were you drinking, inspector?’
‘Don’t know what you mean.’
‘Drinking on duty?’
‘I wasn’t on duty.’
‘If you say so.’
‘Just a minute,’ snapped Summers, ‘I’m the detective here.’
‘Are you?’
‘Now just a minute.’
‘Can’t stop, inspector. People to pick up.’
Dale Crawford drove off. DI Summers was left alone in the middle of the street. A memory flashed through his mind. He saw Dale Crawford, fists raised, an angry look on his face. He saw Dale Crawford wandering about in the night. He suddenly realized he had maybe found his man. But what had he done with Wayne and Duane Hollis?

CHAPTER TWENTY

Once upon a time she had looked at the house from the street and felt right. In those bricks and mortar, her future was encapsulated and it was good.
Julia James was a much younger woman then; newly married – naïve. She had her man – a little older than herself, but that didn’t matter. She was in love and nothing would get in the way of love. Especially not the truth, thought Julia, who, now, saw nothing but bad memories as she looked at the house from the street.
After leaving Dale she had walked round the town trying to decide what to do. When walking failed she had tried café after café. Tea was about to come out of her ears; and when she still didn’t know what to do she thought of a drink of another kind. After all, the pubs were about to open. Yet she banished the thought straight away; which told her very clearly where the straight and narrow was. It was with Dale.
Julia James looked at the house from the street and knew she had to confront Vernie now. She knew she had to end it. She knew she had no other choice.

‘Shouldn’t you be at school?’
Veronica Dean had emerged from a pile of rubble by the side of Jack Thomas’s house. The boy was just sat there on a ruined wall.
Bobby looked up and said: ‘I’ve given it up.’
Veronica smacked dust from her shoulder; sat down beside him. ‘Why’s that then?’
‘Because they teach you all wrong.’
‘Schools can be like that.’
A silence followed. Bobby eventually broke it when he said: ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m waiting for something.’
‘Waiting for what?’
‘I think you’re too young to know.’
‘Oh, you mean Jack’s ghost.’
‘And what do you know about that?’
‘I’ve met him.’
‘You have?’
‘Oh yes, many times. He was my friend.’ A sadness came to him. ‘But he’s got angry with me. I don’t think he’s my friend any more.’
Veronica was all ears. ‘And why is that?’
Bobby told her of the previous night; of the change in the face, the knockings, the angry voices. And Veronica was both excited and annoyed – excited that the ghost seemed to be manifesting more, and annoyed because she hadn’t been there last night. It was an error she would not make again.

Julia James mated the key with the lock, opened the door and walked in. She planned only to retrieve some things because Vernie was bound to be out. Hence, she received a shock when she walked in the living room and found him there.
‘What do you want?’ he asked.
Julia looked at him, noticed the changes. What had happened to the old Vernie? He looked such a wreck. Could she have caused this?
‘You look a mess,’ she said.
‘What do you expect?’
‘So what brought this on?’
‘You and Dale Crawford.’
‘So you’ve heard then.’
‘I have.’
A second’s guilt crossed Julia’s mind. ‘Well what did you expect? Did you honestly think you could treat me like this forever?’
Vernie James went down on his knees. Tears threatened to erupt. ‘Don’t do it Julia. He’s no good for you. Come back to me.’
Julia was taken aback by the outburst. ‘What do you care?’ she demanded. ‘You don’t love me. You can’t. Not when you treat me as you have.’
‘But I do love you,’ he said. ‘You are my life.’
Julia thought of the beatings, the arguments, the other women. ‘You really expect me to believe that?’
‘But it’s true. Oh, Julia, you can’t leave me. You’ve got to come home. I’ll change, I promise.’
Julia suddenly felt nauseous. She looked at him and had to get out. He couldn’t possibly love her; and even if he did, it was too late. Julia James left the house. Outside, she looked back from the street. She knew her new life had now begun.

Rachel Hollis looked out of the window and saw Julia James depart from the house. She didn’t know what Julia was thinking, but she could guess. A new life just begun, she thought, lucky cow.
Her own thoughts were very different. Her life was a mess, and showed no signs of changing. Why couldn’t she have a new life? Why did things always have to go wrong for her? What was wrong with her?
She had wealth, she had looks, she had the body and she had the stamina. She should have been able to get anything she wanted. But time after time it all came to nothing, and she was fed up of it all. But who could she blame?
Rachel Hollis had not been born like this. Her parents considered her a beautiful baby, and as a toddler she seemed to have not a care in the world. It was later that it changed; that HE changed her.
Rachel had few memories of the time; indeed, she had few memories of her childhood at all. And when her parents died she had become bitter of life. Maybe that was because of him. But she had become philosophical about it. Life throws shit at you so you throw shit back at life.
Rachel Hollis could have been such a beautiful girl. But she wasn’t. And now she stood on a crossroads like Julia James; except Julia had decided on her direction. Rachel, as yet, had not.

Vernie James had partially recovered from the outburst. He had wiped his eyes and straightened his tie, and a new mood seemed to be taking him over. Maybe it was inevitable that when a point of despair comes, you rally yourself to attempt to survive. And there was no better way to rally yourself than to focus on hate. And at that moment, Vernie James hated Dale Crawford more than life itself.
His thoughts on the matter were disturbed by the ringing of the doorbell. Slowly, he made his way to the door and opened it.
‘Can I come in?’ said Rachel as she stood there.
Once was the time when Vernie would have begun salivating and taken her up to his room. But now he simply said: ‘What do you want?’
‘That’s not a nice way to treat a beautiful lady.’
‘You’re beautiful,’ said Vernie, ‘I’ll grant you that.’
Not to be put off by insult, Rachel walked into the house. ‘I understand you’ve got problems,’ she said.
‘And what has that to do with you?’
‘I’m only trying to help.’ She took off her coat.
‘Planning on staying are you?’
She unbuttoned her blouse. ‘If you want me to.’
Vernie stood there and stared. ‘Don’t go any further you little tart. I’m not interested.’
‘You’ve got to be joking.’
‘You heard what I said.’
‘But Vernie James is always interested.’
‘Not any more,’ he said as he picked up her coat, threw it at her and saw her to the door.
Rachel turned to face him on the doorstep. She felt insulted. Was she losing her touch? ‘Why?’ she asked.
Vernie attempted a smile. ‘Don’t worry, babe. It’s nothing to do with you.’
‘Then what?’
‘I’ve got someone to destroy.’
‘You mean Dale Crawford,’ she said, interested.
‘That’s right.’
‘And how are you going to do that?’
‘Tell him the truth.’
‘Meaning what?’
‘That I’m Bobby’s father, for a start.’
Rachel Hollis suddenly realized that life could still be interesting, even when you think you’ve come to the end of yours.

(c) Anthony North, December 2007

The penultimate instalment next week, folks.