Bone and Cane (22 page)

‘You don’t understand,’ Sarah said. ‘He humiliated me by telling me that I’d made a fool of myself: that he really did kill Terry Shanks, then raped and murdered his wife.’

27

I
t was ten past nine the next morning before Nick made up his mind how to play it. This was a quiet time of day. Ed Clark would have just finished his school runs. A few drivers often had a late breakfast at the greasy spoon on Rawson Street, near the Indian social centre. Nick sometimes used the place himself. He could walk there in fifteen minutes. Nick did a lot of his best thinking while walking. Maybe by the time he got to the caff, he’d have worked out what to do and say.

Thin drizzle spattered the shabby cobbles. Apart from the café, Rawson Street was all light industry – a garage, a warehouse, a fizzy-pop company. There was no reason for Ed to be in the caff. He was more likely to go to Polly’s for his breakfast and the rest once the kids had gone to school. All yesterday evening, Nick had been tempted to go round to Polly’s, have it out with Ed. But he didn’t know if Ed was living with Polly. Nor did he know if, in a fair fight, Ed could have him. Nick might have muscled up inside, but he hadn’t got into fights. He didn’t really know how to fight, and it felt too late to learn. He was tempted to pick up some broken brick, shove it into the wide, inside pocket of the denim jacket he was wearing. Suppose he were stopped? Would a brick count as carrying a concealed weapon, revoke his probation? If Nick was going to risk that, he might as well carry a knife. No, make that a dagger, or a rope, or a piece of lead piping . . .

It was nearly ten by the time he got to the caff. Ed wasn’t there, but Bob was, tucking into a full English with chips.

‘Missing me already?’ he asked Nick.

‘Just hungry.’ Nick ordered a sausage sandwich and a pint mug of tea, then sat down. ‘Seen Ed today?’

Bob shook his head. ‘But I’ve only been here five minutes. Get on with him, do you? S’pose you knew each other inside.’

Nick didn’t answer. Bob was reading the
Sun
which, to Nick’s amazement, seemed to be supporting Labour. The sandwich arrived and he smothered the contents with brown sauce before disposing of it in half a dozen rapid mouthfuls. Nick was only halfway down his mug of tea when Bob declared that he was leaving.

‘Mind if I come out with you?’ Nick asked. ‘Use your radio.’

‘Be my guest,’ Bob said, handing him the keys. ‘Need a slash first.’

Bob’s car was parked opposite the caff. Nick got in and turned the radio on. He was about to call Nas, see if he could find out where Ed was, when Clark’s car pulled up alongside him. Ed wound down the window and Nick did the same.

‘I heard you’d stopped driving.’

‘That’s why I’m in the passenger seat,’ Nick said. ‘I need a word with you.’

Ed grinned. ‘I’m on the way to Polly’s. Meet me there. Never know your luck, she might be in the mood for a threesome. And if she isn’t in the mood, you might get lucky wi’ me instead.’ His laugh was obnoxious yet ingratiating, as though he and Nick were mates.

Ed drove off. Bob came out a minute later and Nick asked to be dropped down the road in Basford.

‘You found him then?’

‘Yeah, I found him. But I dunno what I’m going to do with him.’

‘You talk like you’re up for a fight, youth.’

‘It may come to that.’

‘Ed’s a hard lad. He’ll have you, unless you’re kitted up, like. Want this?’

Bob pulled out the flick knife that he kept beneath his seat.

‘I might be tempted to do something stupid,’ Nick said.

‘And Ed might be tempted to kill you,’ Bob said, then showed him how the catch worked. The knife was small enough for Ed not to know Nick was carrying. It was insurance, that was all. Nick was good at keeping his temper, always had been, but if Ed came at him with a blade, Nick needed to be able to strike first. Prison had taught him that.

‘Okay, mate. I’ll take it. Appreciated.’

Bob gave him a wry smile. ‘Want me to wait for you?’

‘I don’t know how long I’ll be.’

‘I’ll stick at the end of the road for a few mins.’

It wasn’t as though they were friends, or Bob was in Nick’s debt, but if this were prison, what Bob was doing would make him Nick’s mate for life. Bob drove three doors down and parked. Polly answered the door.

‘Can’t keep away, can you?’ she said. Her manner mingled mockery and affection. It annoyed him, because she was right, he still wanted her. Her short, blonde hair was mussed like she’d just got out of bed. Until a few days ago, this woman had let him do every dirty thing his imprisoned mind had imagined. And more.

‘Can I come in?’

‘I suppose. You’re expected,’ Polly said. She looked at him as if he was a wounded animal that one of the kids had brought in. ‘Are you sure about this?’

Without answering, he followed her into the living room, where Polly resumed ironing one of the kids’ grey polo shirts for school.

‘Where is he?’

‘Ed’s on the loo. He’ll be down in a minute.’ She finished the shirt and put down the iron. ‘What do you want, Nick?’

‘I want to know why you’re with him.’

Polly shook her head, then reached over to touch Nick’s face. She stroked his cheeks and felt under his chin. He couldn’t tell whether she meant this to resemble a doctor’s examination or a caress.

‘You’re filling out,’ she said. ‘I didn’t notice at first. Thought you looked the way you always do. Then, when I found out you’d been inside, it made sense. Guys inside, they don’t eat well, but they work out a lot. They get these hollow faces, dark lines below the eyes, like ghosts. Ed was like that the first time he came out. This time, too. And he’s hardly put the weight in his face back on. But you, you’re a softboy, aren’t cha? Mister university graduate who used to go out with an MP.’

‘Who told you that?’ Nick asked.

‘I did,’ Ed said, doing up his flies as he walked in. ‘Got the word at the cab office. Still in touch with her, are you?’

Nick didn’t reply.

‘I’ll bet you are. One or two looks you gave me when I talked about her, they make a bit of sense now. Jealous of what you’d lost, eh? Still, she were nought in’t sack compared to our Poll, was she?’

Polly gave them both a strained look.

‘Ne’er mind that threesome we talked about, let’s go the whole hog, get Sarah round for a foursome – cocks and cunt all over t’shop. What do you say?’

Bob’s knife felt heavy in Nick’s pocket. He didn’t know if Ed’s exaggeration of his Nottingham accent was deliberate or unconscious. Either way, Nick ought to get out. Yet he owed something to Polly, and to Sarah.

‘Listen,’ he said to Polly, ‘there are things you need to know.’

‘Oh yeah? And you know them, do you?’

He ignored her hostility. ‘I spoke to Sarah Bone about Ed. She told me about the night of the party, when he was released. Has Ed told you about that?’

Polly was silent. So was Ed. Maybe Nick had him worried.

‘He made a pass at Sarah and she brushed it off. No big deal, she thought. Only later, when she was about to leave, he grabbed her and dragged her into his hotel room.’

‘Really?’ Polly didn’t do sarcasm well, but he recognised the attempt.

‘Really. He tried to rape her, but she fought him off.’

‘You seen the size of her, and me?’ Ed said. ‘If I’d wanted to rape her, I would’ve done.’

Nick tried to remember the detail of what Sarah had told him and continued talking to Polly.

‘He knocked her over. She managed to knee him in the groin. So he couldn’t perform. He settled for scaring her, instead. And he told her a story, something I’m going to tell you now. Then I’ll go. Ed told Sarah she’d made a fool of herself. He did kill your brother, and your sister-in-law, both of them. And this is the man that you’re seeing instead of me.’

Polly stared at him for a moment. He thought he saw shock, then disdain, then disgust. But he had never been good at reading her.

‘Are you back with her?’ she asked, finally.

‘I’m not with anyone,’ Nick said.

She spoke to her boyfriend. ‘I can’t deal with this.’

Nick turned to Ed, ready to respond if the bigger man thumped him. Ed merely pointed to the front of the house. Nick followed him out.

‘You believe that crap?’ Ed asked, in the same matey tone he’d used earlier, but with less menace. ‘I mean, which is more likely, Nickyboy – that I murdered two people and got away with it thanks to Sarah Bone, or that I was grateful, so I fucked her, then chucked her when I got bored.’

‘You’re the one talking crap,’ Nick said, and immediately regretted sinking to his level.

‘Oh aye? You’re lucky I’m treating you so nice, pretty boy. Polly says you treated her right, near enough. So you and me, we’re not enemies – not mates, either. Before you get out of here, I’m going to give you a word to the wise.’

‘Go on, then,’ Nick said.

‘When you were with our Sarah, fifteen year ago or whenever – did you keep the lights on?’

‘What are you on about?’

‘Eyesight good, is it? Dunt matter. I’ll bet you went down on her.’

‘Where is this heading?’ Nick asked, trying to sneer but sounding like a teacher, even to himself.

‘Remember the little purple birth mark she’s got, right hand side, just where her pubes end, couple of inches from the belly button. Shape of Ireland, size of a new fivepenny piece. Do you remember that?’

When Nick didn’t answer, Ed gave him a wide grin.

‘Thought you would,’ he said.

28

B
efore going to bed, Sarah set the answering machine to activate rather than let the phone ring. When she got up and checked the machine, there were already seven messages waiting. She left them for later. The next call came when she was getting out of the shower. Sarah stood in her bedroom, still dripping, as she answered it. The view from her window was obscured by a huge elm tree which protected her privacy. Through the branches she could see that it was a beautiful, sunny day.

‘Sarah, it’s Andrew. I called to wish you good luck.’

‘Nice of you, if just a tad hypocritical.’

Andrew laughed. ‘Either way, will you be in town on Saturday?’

By ‘town’ he meant London
. ‘
I should think so,’ Sarah said.

‘Then why don’t we have dinner rather than lunch this time,’ Andrew suggested. ‘The Sugar Club?’

‘I haven’t eaten there yet,’ Sarah admitted. ‘Okay, see if you can get a table. Dinner’s on me if I win.’

‘I’ll keep you to that. Good luck.’

Sarah dusted herself with talcum powder, rolled on deodorant. Today would be a long day and looked like being a hot one, too. She checked her messages then returned some calls. Nick hadn’t rung, as he’d promised to. He wasn’t a busy man. If he hadn’t called there would be a reason. She left her mobile turned on. If he didn’t call by lunch, she would ring to make sure he was coming to the party tonight.

It was a perfect first of May. Cherry blossoms bloomed. The sun sparkled on the roofs of expensive cars. Change was in the air. Sarah drove past last-minute leafleters delivering ballot-card-shaped reminders. They were all working for her side. At campaign headquarters optimism was rife. However, the smiles were being worn because everybody expected a Labour victory, not a Bone victory. Sarah wished she could share their exhilaration. She began to practise her good loser demeanour.

‘You said you’d give me until the election.’

‘I changed my mind,’ Nick explained to his brother. ‘I decided to bring my retirement forward, on your advice. I’m mad to risk going back inside.’

‘You are. But it’s an election night and I’ve told Caroline I’m going to the Labour party do. Nas’s told her hubby the same thing.’

‘I thought you’d told her it was over.’

Joe shrugged, indicating the hopelessness of denying his sexual impulses. ‘Stuart’s covering the phones. You can use his car. One last time, please. Otherwise, I’ll have to drive myself and Nas will give me hell. God knows how many chances we’ll get once the baby’s born.’

Loads, if Nick knew anything about his brother. But he relented, promising Joe that he would turn up at the office later. The risk of being caught was negligible, especially since he had Joe’s ID. Sarah had invited him to the party, but he wasn’t comfortable about going, and didn’t fancy watching the TV election coverage on his own. If he pulled a long shift, he could follow it all on the radio as it happened. Nick meant to stay up until he found out how Sarah did.

He’d not returned her call yesterday. He didn’t understand why she’d lied to him about Ed. Sarah had slept with Ed and he had slept with Polly, a sad synchronicity. Nick must learn to live with both the women he wanted fancying a psychotic slaphead as much as or more than they did him. Ed had an animal force, a brutish intelligence that must be a total contrast to the wimpy-sounding social worker Sarah was with before. Ed was also an expert manipulator. Nick could just about see how Sarah might have given him a sympathy fuck as soon as he was released, then kicked him into touch, leading Ed to exaggerate the rest. If Sarah lost, Nick would forgive her for lying about Ed and take her off on that holiday, see if they could start things up again. And if, by some chance, she won, it would be over. He would finish his GCSE tuitions then make a new start somewhere else.

‘I’ll be back in at six,’ he told Joe.

‘Start earlier if you want.’

‘Better not,’ Nick said, then fed his brother a credible fib to cover up the absurdity of what he was about to do. ‘I’ve got an appointment with my probation officer.’

The appointment wasn’t until tomorrow, but it was a plausible lie. The best lies were the ones that stuck closest to the truth.

Election days can be very slow. The worst job was standing outside a polling station and taking numbers from voters to check against the electoral register. Sarah, as the candidate, wasn’t allowed to do this. Soon, canvassers would call on friendly voters to remind them that they hadn’t voted yet. This was called ‘knocking up’ and didn’t really start until late afternoon. To remind people earlier could be counterproductive. Voting numbers would be checked against the electoral register and the party’s record of voting intentions, so that only Labour homes would be visited.