Lost Souls (35 page)
Laura woke me with a start, made me jump.
‘Are you okay?’
She sat up, put her head on her knees, sucked in breaths hard.
‘Laura, what’s wrong?’
She looked round, and then after a few sharp breaths, she laughed softly to herself.
‘Just a dream,’ she said, and then she lay back. ‘It was about Bobby,’ she said. ‘He wasn’t there, had been taken away from me.’
I put my arm over her. ‘That won’t happen,’ I said.
Laura winced when my hand touched her swollen cheek, the result of Thomas King’s blows. ‘How is your face?’ I asked.
‘Not ready for you yet, if that’s what you mean.’
I laughed and pulled her closer to me.
We were in our own bed, and the excitement of the previous few days seemed like a different lifetime.
It was Sunday morning. I had spent the whole of Saturday writing a feature. I had worked out an exclusive with one of the big Sundays, the fee large enough
to get us through the next year. Laura had spent the day in briefings. She’d let Egan take some credit. She hadn’t minded. He’d at least let her follow the trail when others might have said no. He hadn’t said much to her, but she spotted the look of gratitude afterwards.
It was Mary Randle’s face that I had enjoyed the most, though. She looked like we’d given her father back to her. He was no longer the child-killer who’d taken the coward’s way out. He was the victim, and with that, Mary no longer had to be ashamed.
‘So what next?’ I asked.
‘We’re going to relax,’ Laura whispered. ‘Bobby will be back from Geoff’s later, so let’s just enjoy some peace.’ She looked at me. ‘Do you think there’ll ever be a quiet time in Lancashire?’
I stroked her hair. ‘It’s actually quite boring up here. Once things settle down, you’ll miss this excitement.’
She nestled back into my chest. ‘I’d like boring,’ she said, ‘just for a while.’
Harry was looking out of his window when Sam walked into his office. Sam knew he would be there, even on a Sunday. As he looked round, Sam held up an envelope.
‘What’s that?’ he said.
‘My resignation,’ Sam replied.
Harry turned back to the window.
‘So is that it?’ asked Sam.
‘What do you want?’ said Harry, turning round. ‘This firm will go on. There are plenty more Sam Nixons out there.’
Sam threw the envelope onto the desk. ‘Go fuck yourself, Harry,’ and then he went to leave the room.
Before he got to the door, he heard Harry say, ‘I’m sorry.’
Sam stopped. ‘What did you say?’
Harry sat at his desk. He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, Sam. I made a mistake a few years ago, got myself in too deep to help a friend.’
‘If he was a real friend, he wouldn’t have asked.’
Harry waved that away. ‘I can live with my mistake. If that makes me a bad person, so be it. But I shouldn’t have dragged Henry into it. For that, I’m sorry.’
‘It almost cost Henry his life.’
Harry looked down at that. Sam saw him take a breath and compose himself.
‘I know that,’ he said quietly.
‘But even when Henry was in danger,’ Sam continued, his eyes blazing, ‘you still wouldn’t give into him. Do you know what sort of person that makes you?’
Harry steepled his fingers under his nose. ‘The police are investigating the story Terry gave. If they think they can build a case, they’ll arrest me.’
Sam smiled, but there was little pleasure in his eyes. ‘You’ll go to prison.’
‘I grew up in the Four Gables. I’ll survive.’
Sam shook his head. ‘Things are different now. You’ve gone soft, and people have got meaner.’
Sam went for the door again. As he got there, he heard Harry ask, ‘How’s Helena? And Henry?’
As Sam shut the door, he said, ‘Better—no thanks to you.’
* * *
Laura and I were standing in our doorway, waiting for Bobby to come back. She had her arms wrapped around me, her face buried into my jumper. I could smell her hair, warm, soft, just her. The sun shone over the fields, the remnants of the morning dew making the grass twinkle. The breeze was fresh and clean.
I looked along the lane as I heard the rumble of a car. When it stopped, I felt Laura pull away from me. Then I heard a familiar shout. It was Bobby.
He ran through the gate and into Laura’s arms, screaming with delight as she whirled him round, his feet kicking outwards.
Geoff appeared at the gate. He had a half-smile on his lips, but the look in his eyes was hostile.
Laura turned back towards him. ‘Do you want a drink before you go back?’
He looked back towards his car, and then at our house. He nodded, looking at me all the time. ‘Okay,’ he said.
Laura went past me, holding on to Bobby, and I saw the delight in her eyes. In Bobby’s too.
I went back into the house. Bobby ran up the stairs to his bedroom, to get a toy to show Geoff. Laura went with him, wanting to hear the tale of his weekend in London.
I heard Geoff wipe his feet on the mat. He was a visitor, he knew that.
As I filled the kettle, I heard Geoff come into the kitchen.
‘I’ve read about your fun,’ he said tersely. ‘How do you think Bobby would have reacted if you got his mother killed?’
I turned around. ‘It wasn’t down to me. It was police work. You know how it is.’
He scowled. ‘It shouldn’t work like that, not around my son.’ He reached into his pocket and put a brown envelope on the worktop. ‘You lovebirds might want to read that.’
I looked at it. It was small, with an address window, official looking. Addressed to Jack Garrett and Laura McGanity.
‘What is it?’
Geoff grinned at me. ‘Open it.’
I slipped my finger under the flap slowly and opened it. It was a letter. As I looked at the letterhead, I realised it was from a firm of solicitors, family law specialists. As I read, I could hear Laura laughing with Bobby.
‘What the fuck are you playing at?’ I hissed at him.
‘Bobby is going to come to live with me,’ he said. ‘Read the letter. You can either agree, or I go to court.’
‘How did you get this done over the weekend?’
He smirked. ‘I have friends.’
‘Bobby should be with his mother,’ I said, my voice low, trying not to let Laura hear.
Geoff’s smirk turned into a sneer. ‘He can be with his mother. Back in London, near his family, grandparents and uncles and cousins. If Laura moves back to London, I’ll drop the application.’
‘You bastard!’
He nodded at me. ‘You better believe it.’
We both turned round when we heard Laura come into the room.
‘Are you boys getting on?’ she said, Bobby giggling in her arms.
I looked at the letter again, and knew how much it would hurt her.
I slipped the letter into my pocket. I didn’t want Laura to see it just yet. Let her enjoy Bobby for a while first. Too many children had been taken from their mothers.
I would like to express my heartfelt thanks to all those people who have offered support and encouragement in my writing endeavours so far. I know who you are.
The staff at the Crown Prosecution Service in Burnley have been very accommodating to me, and even one or two defence lawyers have said kind things, although they were the briefest of moments.
The last year has been very busy, with the release of
Fallen Idols
and the writing of
Lost Souls
, but I know how hard the people at Avon have worked to make the former a success and to bring
Lost Souls
to life. For that I am grateful, and in particular my gratitude goes to both Maxine Hitchcock and Keshini Naidoo, who have consistently given encouragement, sound advice, and, above all else, good company.
My agent, Sonia Land, has been a source of constant support, and knowing that there is someone there to offer not only advice, but the right advice, is a great comfort.
As I’ve said, the last twelve months have been exceptionally busy. If I wasn’t writing, I was working, and if I was doing neither, I was doing author visits, or radio interviews, or library visits. I have met some very nice people on my travels, and I hope we meet again, but in the background during all of this has been Alison, my wife. She has had to bear the brunt of my distraction, and she knows how grateful I am for that. I promise it will get better…
Born above a shoe shop in the mid-1960s, Neil White spent most of his childhood in Wakefield in West Yorkshire as his father pursued a career in the shoe trade. This took Neil to Bridlington in his teens, where he failed all his exams and discovered that doing nothing soon turns into long-term unemployment. Re-inventing himself, Neil returned to education in his twenties, qualified as a solicitor when he was 30, and now spends his days in the courtroom as a Criminal Prosecutor and his evenings writing crime fiction. His debut novel,
Fallen Idols
, has been widely acclaimed.
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Fallen Idols
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © Neil White 2008
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EPub Edition © 2008 ISBN: 9780007328987
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