French Leave (19 page)

‘You'd better carry it from now on, because I'll stop you whenever I see you and ask to check it. Tomorrow morning you'll bring it to 26 Section Headquarters, along with all the documents pertaining to the purchase of that apology for a passenger vehicle, and the certificates of road-worthiness you're required by law to obtain. In the base, you're not immune to the laws governing the owning and driving of any motorized vehicle,' Tom continued in his most seriously professional tone. ‘The base isn't a military playground: it's British territory where the laws apply as fully as they do in the UK. Only the fact that you're now on German territory stops me from reporting you to the Garrison Commander.'

‘Oh,
come on
!' Jake said in incredulous tones. ‘You're not serious.'

‘Try me, sonny. If you're not in my office by midday tomorrow, you'll discover how serious I am.' He began turning away. ‘If you're planning on driving into town now, don't have more than three passengers in that tub.'

When he was halfway up the path, Tom heard a jeering, ‘Is that all,
sir
?'

He spun round. ‘No. Never take my daughters for a ride in that again.'

The pleasant atmosphere indoors had gone. Three girls sat at the breakfast bar with cold drinks they had not touched; not a biscuit had been taken from the plate. Nora raised her brows at Tom as she peeled and sliced apples, but she made no comment.

Gina, now eleven and growing rebellious, broke the tense silence. ‘Why do you always
spoil
things?'

Tom sat down facing them, and spoke gently. ‘You've been given a ride from the base by a very cocksure boy and arrived safely home clutching what looks to me like several brand-new DVDs. You've got glasses of milk and a plateful of biscuits in front of you, and Mum's preparing your favourite apple and honey crumble for pudding. If anything's spoiled, it's you three.'

‘You made us look stupid,' Gina countered.

‘You do the same when Hans comes,' added Maggie, almost as angry as her sister.

Tom looked at Beth. ‘Aren't you going to join in?'

His youngest daughter shook her lowered head. She was still very much Daddy's girl, in spite of occasional bursts of defiance.

‘The only stupid person was Jake,' Tom said, still gently. ‘He's old enough to drive which, by law, rates him old enough to be responsible for his actions. He wasn't today. It wasn't you I was cross with, but him, for involving you in his carelessness.
Dangerous
carelessness, Blackies! Anything could suddenly give out in that wreck he's driving, and it was overloaded. I don't want any of you to be hurt.
Ever
. You're all too precious to Mum and me.' He allowed a suitable silence to hang in the air, then asked what the DVDs were.

Suddenly reanimated, his daughters resumed their normal cross-chatter to enthuse about the films they had bought. Tom looked at them, checking that they were not too horrific or sexually explicit. He had already played the heavy father. Time to restore family calm.

‘We bought them on the weekly payment scheme,' Maggie told him anxiously. ‘It's legal, Dad.'

He smiled. ‘I don't doubt it, sweetheart.'

‘Some of the officers' kids can buy them outright. They get
obscene
pocket money,' said Gina, in the language of youth.

‘They take the best ones,' Beth complained. ‘We have to make do with the leftovers.'

Nora was leaning over Tom's shoulder to see the films. ‘You haven't done bad for leftovers. They're all still in their original packaging.'

‘They're unwanted presents. Stuff people wouldn't be seen dead watching,' Gina explained, unaware of the ambiguity of what she said.

‘Or something they already have,' added Maggie. ‘It's a magic idea to get rid of them. Everybody benefits.'

Nora turned back to her cooking. ‘There's an awful lot of unwanted presents there. Don't other kids make wish lists like you do?'

Some vague idea entered Tom's mind as the girls raided the biscuits and guzzled milk. They had bought ‘unwanted presents' a few days ago.

‘Are Jake and his mates taking part in this scheme?'

‘It's a
club
, Dad. We told you before,' said Maggie with daughterly forbearance.

‘So are they part of it?'

‘They run it,' said Gina through a mouthful of biscuit. ‘They're sixth-formers.'

‘Those three handle all the sales?'

She nodded. ‘With Zoe Rogers. She's Jake's girl.'

‘She's also good at maths, so she takes the money and keeps records of weekly payments.'

A germ of suspicion was fast growing in Tom's mind. ‘So you've been taking in your unwanted DVDs or CDs and got whatever someone's prepared to pay for them?'

‘No, Dad,' said Beth. ‘Because we always make wish lists we're not given presents we don't want. If you take used ones to the club they can only be exchanged for other used ones. It's only the new ones you can buy.'

‘You can
hire
used ones,' Gina reminded Beth.

‘At what rate?' asked Tom

‘Depends on the condition of the goods,' Maggie told him with authority.

‘And Zoe Rogers records the hire payments?'

The girls looked at each other, then Gina said, ‘Dad, we just go to the club and get what we want. We don't have anything to do with running it.'

‘OK, but you must have earned a bit on the stuff you've taken in.'

‘They've been straight swaps. I
told
you we can't sell used stuff,' said Beth with heavy patience.

‘So you did.' Tom then asked casually, ‘Where is this club?'

‘Jake's got a den in his garden,' said Maggie with the kind of eagerness she used when speaking of Hans Graumann, her German boyfriend. ‘It's an old summerhouse his parents don't use. He's done it up. Made it really groovy. Put all the electrics in it himself. He's into that. In September he's going home to study lighting and effects at the Youth Theatre. Zoe says he's sure to make it big time.'

Nora began setting plates out for supper. ‘Isn't Zoe upset that he's leaving next month?'

‘No. She's going home too. She's going to audition for RADA. She's going to be an actress.'

‘I'm thinking of being an actress,' mused Gina.

‘You'll have to lose five stone. Actresses have to be skinny,' Beth told her matter-of-factly.

‘I want to be a beautician,' Maggie said dreamily. ‘Imagine having all that expensive make-up at special low prices.'

‘I still want to work in a zoo,' Beth announced. ‘While you two are prancing around trying to be glamorous, I'll be helping endangered species to survive.'

During this familiar girly talk, Tom was putting facts together. All his daughters had just told him made him determined to find out more about Jake's summerhouse enterprise. The lad behind the steering wheel had the look and manner of a budding entrepreneur . . . and entrepreneurs invariably looked after number one. If kids were being conned by Jake and his girl, Zoe, Tom would speedily close that club down.

Somewhere along that train of thought, recollection of Jake's Brummie accent registered. An anonymous telephone call and brand-new DVDs and CDs: both linked with Jack Carr, alias John Smith, whose locker had been full of them.

The moment he saw Minnie Carr, Max knew she was on the game. Hair dyed orangey-blonde, blotchy complexion, brown-painted fingernails, bags beneath eyes whose whites were yellow. In the late afternoon she looked haggard and every one of her forty-something years. Standing on her doorstep in Acton, Max took in the overall picture of a defeated woman in an old mauve wrapper, and pitied her.

Based on what he had been told in Bournemouth, he had no problem imagining her life after being deserted by Charlie Smith. Forever trying to make ends meet while caring for her baby; demeaned by Edward and Stella Smith's occasional offers of financial help; dominated by a growing son with his father's feckless personality. That same son had, for certain, treated his home as a convenient B. and B. without contributing to its upkeep, or helping the mother who had probably pandered to his demands until he joined the West Wilts and disappeared from her life until he needed her again.

Was that moment now? This sad woman would allow him to hide here, Max was certain, and would doubtless give him as much as he wanted from her nocturnal earnings. They could not be large. Alongside teenage prostitutes, this middle-aged woman would be left with the callous and desperate who wanted rough sex on the cheap.

‘I'm sorry to disturb you,' he said gently as Minnie Carr stared at him, clutching the wrapper close to her throat. ‘Is Jack at home?'

‘
Him
?' Her voice was unpleasantly coarse and loud. ‘Haven't seen hide nor hair of that rascal for more than a year. Took off with all the cash in the house and my credit card. No word of goodbye, of where he was going. Don't tell me you're a friend of his, because I won't believe you. You're police. I can tell straight off by now. Well, I don't know no more where he is than I did when your pals came just before Christmas.'

Max believed her. ‘I know where Jack has been since he left home, Ms Carr.' He showed his service identification. ‘My name is Max Rydal. I'm with the Royal Military Police.'

She goggled. ‘
Military
?'

‘Jack joined the West Wiltshire Regiment last year.'

‘He must've been bloody crazy. Jack wouldn't let himself be ordered around by nobody.'

‘Can we go inside? I'm sure you won't want passing people growing curious about your nightwear.'

Max followed her to a small old-fashioned kitchen where she immediately filled a kettle and set out mugs bearing SAN FRANCISCO and BIG APPLE in red lettering. Places she dreamed of visiting? The room smelled of takeaway meals, probably eaten at breakfast time before she went to bed.

In the silence while the tea was made, Max wondered if there was a chicken and egg situation here. Had Minnie taken to prostitution and driven her son away, or had Jack's desertion forced her to take to the streets? As he always reasoned, surely this woman could have found another way of earning a living without resorting to the world's oldest profession?

Over mugs of tea that had a curious curry flavour, Minnie told her tale of woe that began when Jack became an infant thief.

‘At first, he took things to give to me,' she explained in wheedling tones. ‘He loved me so much, you see, because he didn't have a dad. That's why he did it. Course, I gave the things back to them he took them from, and he got upset.' She stirred more sugar into her tea and gazed at the swirling liquid. ‘I shouldn't of done that. He thought I didn't love him, see. It was a long time after that when I found out he was still taking things, and giving them to school friends. Their mothers came round and asked me to stop Jack from bribing their kids to do things with him.'

She glanced at Max with a much softer expression. ‘It was having no dad, see. He wanted everyone else to love him, poor little beggar.'

‘What did you tell him about his father?' Max asked, starting to understand Jack Carr a little better.

There was a glow on Minnie's face now. This deluded woman was still in love with the youthful Charlie Smith, Max realized. How did that infatuated image meld with her sordid life?

‘When Jack was little I told him his dad was an explorer at the other side of the world. On an expedition to find a secret buried city.' When she smiled, it was as if she was a starstruck girl again. ‘I'd read a story about that, so I pretended Charlie was that hero. He was so handsome, you know, and full of life. He
could
have been a heroic explorer.'

It then dawned on Max why this woman was selling herself on the streets. She was a user; had probably had a shot just before he arrived. Her son was not here and she was roaming in fairyland.

‘Jack believed it, of course. Boasted about it when kids teased him about having only a mum.' She gazed into a faraway place and appeared to be talking to herself from then on. ‘It broke his little heart when that smug John told him about Charlie going off before he was born. He always hated that John. The boy had everything little Jack wanted. So superior, he was. Jack tried to be his friend right from the start, but John told him to get lost. So he hated him from then on, because he had got an expensive camera from somewhere and offered it to his cousin. Know what he did? The little sod threw it back at my Jack; said he had enough friends already and didn't want one who stole from people and pretended to give presents.' Tears began rolling down her pasty cheeks. Drug-induced misery. ‘My precious boy only wanted to
belong
.'

Max got to his feet and put one of his cards on the table beside the BIG APPLE mug. ‘My mobile number is on this. If you'd like to call me to talk about your son, at any time, please don't hesitate. I'll let myself out.'

Walking back to where he had left his car, Max reflected on a story he had come across many times in his career. Some man had a night's enjoyment and walked away leaving a trail of unhappiness behind him. Driving through the streets of London that woman's last words stayed with him. He only wanted to
belong
.

NINE

D
an Farley had gone through a range of negative emotions: disbelief, rage, self-disgust, panic, fear, despair, misery. He had now reached the nadir of his twenty-three years. His own weakness and stupidity had led to this.

He had allowed Trish to make a prize idiot of him. He had weakly surrendered to basic lust; abandoned self-respect to respond to her mating call. He had scattered common sense to the wind by believing she would listen and be persuaded to accept his profession. Instead, he had subjected himself to further lectures on the subject from the whole family, ending with Trish suggesting he should use some ploy to avoid going to Afghanistan.