All Fall Down: A gripping psychological thriller with a twist that will take your breath away (15 page)

A
s he drove
out of Canterbury, Rob reflected on the irony that he and Wendy had anticipated a ferocious battle to persuade Josh to accompany them, only for him to come willingly. The less welcome irony was that they could never have envisaged that he was in this kind of trouble.

Despite the dreary weather, Josh wore sunglasses when he left the flat. There was no mistaking his nervous, watchful air. Rob thought of the knife that his son had kept close to hand, and how he had seemed, for a moment or two, fully prepared to use it.

When they accelerated on to the slip road for the A2, Josh let out the sort of sigh you’d expect from a condemned man who has just learned of a reprieve.

‘Pleased to be getting out of here, then?’ Rob said.

‘A change of scene does everyone good.’

‘Not if you’re somewhere lovely, and the change is to somewhere shit.’

This was from Georgia, and it delighted Josh. ‘The starting point is relevant, that’s true.’ He nudged her affectionately. ‘Got a boyfriend yet, Squirt?’

‘
No
.’

‘Girlfriend, then?’

‘
No
! Shut up!’

It fell to Evan, the natural diplomat, to change the subject. ‘You totally bald under that?’

Josh pulled off the cap. ‘Pure cue ball.’

‘A cue ball with shaving cuts,’ Evan said.

‘Well, there’s an art to it. I hadn’t realised what a bumpy skull I’ve got.’

‘It’s all those brain cells fighting to get more space.’

‘Very funny, E the T.’

‘E the Not-so T, remember. I reckon I’m in line for a 2:2 at least.’

‘Mm, but it’s a degree in football.’

‘Are you gonna take the piss about my exams?’ Georgia broke in. ‘’Cos Evan’s a genius compared to me.’

‘Hey, don’t do yourself down,’ Evan said, and simultaneously Josh said, ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

Rob glanced at Wendy and they shared an almost involuntary smile; it seemed like only the blink of an eye since the most they’d had to worry about was this sort of bickering – usually over Pokémon cards, or which DVD to watch. Trivial things, though at the time Rob had often raged at them for squabbling.

Why on earth couldn’t he have appreciated how lucky he was?

‘
I
t started last year
, when I noticed how many students smoke roll-ups.’

They’d settled into the rhythm of a long journey, the conversation tailing off as Rob pushed the Land Rover up to a comfortable ninety in the outside lane. After cresting Blue Bell Hill, Rob had taken a moment to savour the dramatic sweep of the Medway valley before gently prompting Josh for his explanation.

‘At first I went to France as a foot passenger. Then someone told me about Adinkerke, just over the border in Belgium. It’s a kind of Mecca for nicotine addicts. I borrowed a car and increased the number of trips. To avoid suspicion I recruited the help of a girl called Ruby. She’s a physics student who looks like a
Vogue
cover girl. Her social network is just ridiculous—’

‘Everyone’s social network is ridiculous, compared to yours,’ Evan cut in.

‘True. But the pubs and clubs in Canterbury are desperate to have girls like Ruby coming through their doors. One of her favoured proprietors put us in touch with his cousin, who owns a chain of convenience stores. This chap Arshad had been selling contraband tobacco for years, but was having problems with his regular supplier – or so I was told.’

Josh paused to cough. ‘For a while we all did fantastically well from it, until the regular supplier realised that his position was being usurped.’

‘Who is this supplier, exactly?’ Wendy asked. ‘What does he do?’

‘His name is John Nyman, and he has fingers in lots of pies. He buys and sells. He steals, smuggles, extorts, defrauds.’ A grim smile. ‘And he hurts people.’

No one spoke for a moment, perhaps because this was so different from Josh’s normal demeanour: flippant, facetious, wryly superior.

But Rob couldn’t keep his frustration in check for long. ‘You’re a very bright individual, Josh. How come it never occurred to you that tobacco smuggling was likely to get you into trouble?’

‘My speciality is numbers. The numbers I ran on this indicated that the risks were minimal, providing I kept it small and contained.’

‘But you didn’t,’ Rob said – a point which Josh immediately conceded.

‘My calculations failed to allow for greed, ambition, ego. I suspect I had an unhealthy need for Ruby’s admiration. Also, I was curious to see if I could operate an illicit enterprise without resorting to violence or intimidation.’

‘Josh the Cuddly Criminal,’ Evan drawled.

‘This is serious!’ Rob snapped. ‘What do you think Nyman will do when he finds you?’

‘He already has.’

‘
What
?’ Wendy said, almost yelping the word.

‘A couple of months back I was lifted off the street, taken to an old warehouse and given what I think they classed as a “light beating”.’ Josh sounded bizarrely matter-of-fact, though Wendy had twisted in her seat and was examining him carefully, as if he might bear scars that they had failed to notice.

‘Are you all right?’ Wendy asked. ‘Did you go to hosp—?’

‘Mum, stop fussing. It wasn’t nearly as painful as I expected, actually – because of the adrenalin. It’s more the terror that you’re going to die.’ Somehow he managed to chuckle. ‘Nyman wasn’t present, but on his behalf I was told that my contract with Arshad was terminated, and I was prohibited from selling tobacco products on Nyman’s territory.’

Wendy, on the brink of tears, said, ‘I wish you’d come to us for help.’

Josh only made a humming noise, politely dismissive. Rob understood her instinct to sympathise, but he had a question: ‘If you got warned off, why wasn’t that the end of it?’

Evan gave a disgusted laugh. ‘Isn’t it obvious? He ignored the warning.’

‘It was a ludicrous proposition. Nyman decided I should pay reparations – ten thousand pounds – except I was barred from selling on his territory. Where was the money to come from? It was practically guaranteed that I’d have to get back into business.’

‘Maybe Nyman planned it that way,’ Rob said. ‘He gets the money, as well as a good reason to punish you again.’

‘God, you’re a twat,’ Georgia said, in an affectionate way.

‘Thank you, Squirt.’ Josh blew her a kiss.

‘How do you know Arshad hasn’t ratted you out?’ Rob asked.

‘Because he’s equally scared of Nyman. He couldn’t risk buying from me again, but he did hook me up with a relation of his in Tonbridge. That’s where I offload most of the stuff at present.’

‘Most?’ Wendy queried.

‘I’m still selling on campus. I’ve got to. I have overheads, like any business—’

‘Tell it to Alan bloody Sugar,’ Rob muttered in disgust, and Wendy shushed him.

‘Ten grand isn’t an impossible sum – I was hoping to reach my target within a few days.’ He grinned. ‘I really had intended to join you in Norfolk.’

Rob wasn’t amused. ‘But you’re selling it again. So even if you pay the guy his “reparations”, you’re still going to be in trouble.’

‘But Nyman believes I’ve left town, and with my new appearance I’m not easy to spot. I’ve walked past students from my course who didn’t recognise me.’

Evan gave a troubled groan. ‘We went looking for you in the Boatman’s café. There was a bloke who came in, saw me and then left very quickly.’

‘What did he look like?’

‘An old guy, very thin, scruffy. A druggie, maybe.’

Checking the mirror, Rob saw a flicker of alarm in Josh’s eyes, even as he said, blithely, ‘Doesn’t sound familiar.’

W
endy asked about his studies
. Josh assured them that, once the debt to Nyman was settled, he saw no reason why he couldn’t complete his degree at Canterbury. ‘He’ll have his money, and I’m sure he has other things to worry about besides small fry like me.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ she said. ‘But why didn’t you just come home in the first place?’

‘Because the problem was mine,’ Josh said simply. ‘I didn’t want to burden you.’

‘Plus you had to sell the rest of the tobacco,’ Rob said, not quite buying the selfless line.

‘Could’ve done that in Petersfield,’ Evan joked. ‘Little pop-up shop by Heath Pond – selling it to Georgia’s mates, you’d make a fortune, eh?’

Rob didn’t see it, but from the way he winced, Georgia must have prodded him.

They made good time on the M25, but once on the M11 the requests for a comfort break started up – it was two in the afternoon and the twins, as always, were hungry. Rob agreed to stop at the next motorway services, and they rolled into Birchanger Green at about two fifteen.

As he pulled into a parking space, Rob spotted something and had an idea. He studied his phone and gave a sigh of exasperation. ‘Just got to make a work call.’

‘It’s Saturday,’ Wendy said.

‘The heat pump job – they’re working all weekend to stay on track. You go on.’

Looking dubious, she linked arms with Josh and followed the other two across the car park. Rob put the phone to his ear, while moving behind the Land Rover and surreptitiously lifting the tailgate. This morning he’d hidden the trainer, wrapped in two layers of plastic, amongst the cases and bags for the holiday. Now he retrieved it, locked the car and dumped the trainer in a nearby waste bin, pushing it deep below a mass of fast-food cartons.

He was far from certain it was the right thing to do. But with Dawn Avery having a set of keys – and knowing that whoever was framing them could pull the trigger at any moment – he’d had no choice but to get the thing out of the house. Only then came the realisation that, by moving crucial evidence of a crime, he was automatically implicated in that crime. In which case, disposing of it was surely the only safe option?

All he could do was pray that the decision didn’t come back to haunt him.

W
endy had no appetite
, so she gave Evan a twenty-pound note and sent the three of them to buy some food. As she waited by the entrance, fighting off another bout of suspicion that Rob was hiding something from her, she remembered the grave warning from Kevin Burroughs:
It ain’t easy, accepting your own kids have done terrible things
.

Well, now she knew how that felt – and she’d found out a lot sooner than even Burroughs might have expected.

Rob didn’t spot her until, after standing aside to let an elderly couple pass, he stepped through the doorway and practically jumped out of his skin.

‘Oh! What are you doing there?’

‘Thought I’d wait for you.’

‘There was no need.’ His gaze shifted uneasily. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Of course I’m not.’ As tempting as it was to confront him, there were more important things to discuss. ‘Where did we go wrong? I mean, our son is a
criminal
, Rob.’

He pulled a face. ‘Yeah – though to be fair, it’s not robbing banks, or beating up old ladies.’

‘Don’t you dare take that line.’ Years ago she’d made it clear that she would have no truck with any of the tax dodges and fiddles open to the self-employed. ‘It’s still illegal, and it could land him in prison. We brought them up to obey the law – not to pick and choose.’

He nodded mournfully, but again she had the feeling that this wasn’t uppermost in his mind. She started to speak but choked up. She probably couldn’t express it in words, but just as painful, in a way, had been the sight of Josh – thin and pale, with a shaved head – and all the terrible connotations that such an appearance had in terms of his health.

‘I feel like I don’t know him. My own son.’

Again, Rob only nodded, and said, ‘When have we ever?’

‘Do you think this is connected to last Sunday?’

The question was prompted by her frustration, a need to shock him into focusing on the conversation, and it had the desired effect. Rob looked her right in the eye for the first time.

‘Josh?’

‘Well, why not? These men who are searching for him – if they’ve beaten him up in the past, then they’re obviously capable of violence.’

‘I guess so.’ He pondered. ‘But if Sunday was supposed to send a message to Josh – or to any of us – it didn’t work, did it? Because we still don’t understand.’

‘Do you think we should ask him?’

‘Maybe, but not yet. Let’s talk about it later, shall we?’

Fobbing me off
, Wendy thought. Feeling unaccountably disgusted – with Rob, with Josh, with the world – she said, ‘All this brutality, it’s hard not to feel like we’ve been cursed.’

Aware that a few passersby were glancing their way, Rob gave an awkward shrug. ‘I don’t know. Plenty of people have it worse than us.’

‘Oh, I’m not doubting that. I’ve spent my career trying to help
those
folk. What I mean is, there’s a huge section of the population that never encounters anything remotely dangerous, and yet here we are – Sunday’s incident, and the Iain Kelly business, and now Josh. . .’ She pursed her lips. ‘And even Georgia’s experience. It’s starting to feel like this family has trouble running through it like a stick of rock.’

She knew she was becoming far too emotional. Rob patted her arm, somewhat ineffectually, then splayed his fingers as if to count.

‘What happened to Georgia was in her old life, before she was living with us, so that doesn’t really count.’ Next finger. ‘With Josh, yes, he’s got himself in trouble. But he did so unwittingly, because he has tunnel vision and saw an opportunity to make some cash.’

‘Iain Kelly, and your mate, Jason.’

‘There’s nothing out-and-out criminal about Jason. And let’s be honest, after thirty years in the building trade it would be a miracle if I
hadn’t
fallen foul of some dodgy types at one time or another.’

‘And then Sunday,’ she said.

‘Yep. That’s the mystery, I agree. But the other things. . . in the course of a lifetime, I don’t think they amount to anything unusual. It’s just bad timing, I guess, to have Sunday’s thing and this trouble with Josh crop up within the same week.’

A
t that moment
the kids came over, arms laden with burgers and soft drinks. Wendy had to leave it there, and told herself that at least Rob was trying to reduce her angst, rather than contribute to it.

Josh suggested they eat on the grassy bank next to the car, and they were trooping across the car park when someone shouted, ‘Hey there!’

Wendy turned, correctly sensing that the call was directed at them. It had come from a man who was ambling in their direction. He was enormous – perhaps six three or four, and probably not far off three hundred pounds. He was wearing jeans and a red polo shirt, and his clothes bulged with a combination of muscle and fat. A former wrestler, perhaps, or a rugby player gone to seed.

Not that he was old – probably no more than mid-thirties, Wendy estimated. He had a thatch of almost white blond hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was ten or fifteen feet away when he turned and said, in a curiously soft voice, ‘It is, you know. It’s him.’

He was speaking to a woman who stood, somewhat pensively, beside a red Nissan Qashqai. She was about thirty, tall and thin, with short brown hair brushed flat and parted at the side. She wore beige slacks and a cream blouse, buttoned tightly at the neck and wrists. There was an ill-matched pink handbag over her shoulder and she was clutching car keys in one hand, jiggling them impatiently.

Wendy thought she heard a little gasp from Georgia, but ignored it when the man continued his advance. His gaze was fixed on Rob, whose wariness turned to bewilderment when the man clapped his hands together.

‘I do not believe it! Here, of all places.’ He spoke with a strong American accent, pure
golly gee whiz
, and his eyes were shining with a messianic thrill. ‘We are the biggest
GoT
fans in the world – literally speaking, in my case!’

Rob shook his head dismissively. Evan and Josh were still walking towards the Land Rover, while Georgia darted backwards, behind Wendy.

‘Ilsa, it’s him. Come and say hi.’ He grinned. ‘She’s kinda shy. Doesn’t agree with invading someone’s privacy, but I know you’d be cool with that.’

‘I’m sorry, you’ve made a mistake,’ Rob said.

‘Uh uh, no mistake. I watch that show for
days
without a break, my friend.’

‘Show?’ Wendy repeated, as confused as Rob.

‘
Game of Thrones
.’ The man took this as an invitation to move closer. He had extraordinarily clear blue eyes, almost mesmerising in their attraction: when he glanced at her, Wendy found it impossible to look away.

‘Mistaken identity, I promise you,’ Rob said.

‘Gabriel, leave them to their picnic.’ This was from the woman, whose voice was harsher, and had a slight German accent.

But the man – Gabriel – only laughed, a strange hooting sound, complete with a phlegmy rumble that almost shook the ground. ‘I don’t think so. I know Lord Stark when I see him!’

Now there were sarcastic laughs from the twins. The man turned that way, grinning uncertainly as if worried he’d missed a punchline.

‘That’s Sean Bean,’ Josh said.

‘I know.’ The man gestured at Rob. ‘Can I get a selfie? Hey, Ilsa, come on!’

As the woman came forward, Wendy felt Georgia plucking at the back of her shirt. The girl was almost cringing, fearfully, and mouthed something that Wendy didn’t quite catch. It seemed to be: ‘
I know her
.’

‘That’s our dad,’ Evan was saying, ‘and he isn’t Sean Bean, okay?’

‘He looks nothing like him,’ Josh added, glaring suspiciously at the man.

‘No, no, I’m good with faces,’ Gabriel insisted. ‘This is him. Lord Stark.’

While the debate raged, Wendy turned back to her daughter. ‘What?’

‘That woman,’ Georgia hissed. ‘I’ve seen her before, in town.’

A change in the tone of the conversation forced Wendy to turn away. Gabriel had drawn himself up to an intimidating height and crossed his arms. The smile had gone, and there was a look of petulant rage in his face.

‘You know, I think it’s pretty fucking rude to treat a respectful fan in this manner.’

The soft voice made the words seem even more threatening, somehow. Wendy moved closer to Rob, preparing to restrain him if he should suddenly decide to lunge at Gabriel, but her husband stayed remarkably calm.

‘I’m not Sean Bean. I’m not an actor. Have a safe journey to wherever you’re going.’

Gabriel shrugged. The woman was at his side now, draping one hand on his shoulder.

‘We’re going wherever you’re going,’ he said. ‘Maybe we’ll just tag along. Follow your car.’

‘I wouldn’t advise that,’ Rob said, and now there was some aggression in his voice.

Gabriel countered with a sarcastic smile. ‘It’s a joke. You take things too seriously, my friend.’

Rob grunted, glanced over his shoulder to check on Georgia, then escorted her and Wendy to the car. Gabriel stayed where he was, he and the woman watching as the family climbed into the Land Rover.

‘See you again,’ he said, and gave a mocking little flutter of his fingers.

Wendy was struck by something odd in his voice, and she didn’t work out what it was until her door was shut and Rob had started the engine.

The American accent had gone.