The Drowners (10 page)

‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ said Iris Johns, ‘it’s just I don’t know who else to ask, and Billy, he always speaks well of you, so I was hoping you might be able to help.’

Poor old Newt was seriously short of friends if he ‘spoke well’ of her, Alex thought. She was still feeling guilty about the way she had neglected him during the past year. Somehow
he seemed less – urgent – than the clients who appeared in reception dripping blood on the carpet or full of woe having been thrown out of home again. Newt was safe in prison and at least fed and housed for the next year. And there was the small matter of his father’s murderous rampage across the Levels, culminating in his attempt to lure her to a deserted cottage where, presumably, he intended to kill
her
.

‘If I can, of course I will,’ she said.

At the other end of the phone Iris was finding the
conversation
just as strained. She hoped desperately Alex might be able to persuade the authorities at Dartmoor to let Newt attend the memorial service but asking Alex to help after what her husband had put her through just seemed wrong. Screwing up her courage she hurried on with her prepared explanation, ending with, ‘I don’t want my boy carrying on like this and I reckon if I can stop him brooding on Derek, get him past all this, perhaps he can start again when he’s out. Maybe get a proper job and do something useful.’

Despite her fairly horrible recent experiences of the Johns family, Alex felt the beginnings of admiration for Iris. She had lost her husband, she had lost her youngest son and her other boy was incarcerated seventy-five miles away in one of the toughest prisons in the country but she still believed something could be salvaged out of such a terrible time. Even as her inner voices clamoured for her not to get involved she reached for her diary to make an appointment for a home visit.

‘I hope you had the sense to make it in the evening,’ said Sue, when Alex confessed her folly over lunch.

Alex nodded, her mouth full of egg and cress from the new sandwich bar in the square. ‘Mmm, yes, don’t really know if I’m supposed to go see parents … especially seeing as Newt’s over 18.’ She took a swig of tea, pulled a face and pushed the beaker away.

‘Yes,’ said Sue with sympathy, ‘I think the milk’s off again.’

‘Why the bloody hell didn’t you warn me then? Oh yuck, I feel sick.’ Alex left the second sandwich untouched and got
up to leave the table. As if summoned, Lauren materialized beside her and eyed the abandoned food.

‘Knock yourself out,’ said Alex, and headed back to the day centre.

Lauren hopped up on to the vacated chair and picked up the sandwich.

‘So what’s eating her then?’ she said between bites.

Sue explained about the phone call, keeping a wary eye on her own lunch as she did so. She had a packet of Jaffa Cakes with her and these were, she knew, a particular favourite of her admin assistant. Lauren screwed up her eyes thoughtfully as she chewed.

‘Not sure as how she’s supposed to still have Newt anyway,’ she said. ‘Most of ’em was passed over to …’ she jerked her head in the direction of Ricky Peddlar, who had just entered and was hovering by the kettle, hoping to be invited over to join someone. ‘Reckon Alex’d do better by Newt than he would though. Even considering – all as is past now.’

Sue watched Lauren’s face closely. Lauren had also suffered at the hands of Derek Johns and it was only Alex’s quick thinking that had saved her from being swept away down the canal along with her kidnapper. Lauren met her eyes with a steady gaze.

‘Just ’cos Derek Johns was a bad ’un don’t mean Newt is, nor Iris neither. I heard she threw the old bastard out – changed the locks and everything. He was on the doorstep crying like a baby but she never let him in. What my cousin says anyway and she lives opposite.’

‘I’m not sure Alex should start stirring up all those memories, especially after her illness,’ said Sue. ‘She’s not well again yet – most nights she just collapses on the sofa and doesn’t even want to eat.’

Privately Lauren thought this might have more to do with Sue’s cooking than any residual illness. Lauren had an extraordinary appetite but even she baulked at most of Sue’s offerings.

‘Maybe she can just write a letter or something,’ she said. ‘You tell her to bring it to me rather than Alison. I’ll do it after work.’

Sue nodded gratefully. ‘Thanks. By the way, I heard about Pauline offering you that job to mentor the new officers. Do you know if you’re going to take it? Just, well, I rather like having you as my assistant. I don’t think I’d have got this far without you.’

Lauren, the so-tough, don’t-give-a-damn Lauren, caught her breath at the unexpected compliment. She looked down at the table, overcome with embarrassment, before managing a gruff reply.

‘Well, I’m not – you know – not sure yet. Seems a good opportunity but I’m not sure about – some stuff.’

Sue sneaked a look at Ricky who was still stranded by the sink, trying to look as if he was busy with making his tea. She wasn’t too sure about some stuff either.

Pushing open the door to the day centre, Alex was brought up short by the sight of Brian and several of his little friends running round the main room brandishing the pool cues.

‘Hey – stop that now!’ she yelled. Two of the culprits pulled up short, dropping the cues on to the pool table guiltily but Brian and his other friend – damn little Darren, she realized – carried on flailing at one another, giggling and giving whoops of delight as they narrowly avoided hitting one another.

Without thinking, Alex stepped between them, arms raised to protect her head. There was a resounding thud as Darren’s pool cue made contact with her left wrist and her whole hand went numb. She cried out as a fierce pain shot up her arm and curled over the injured wrist instinctively. The movement saved her from a blow in the face, as Brian’s cue whistled past her bent head. There was sudden silence, broken only by the sound of the two cues landing on the floor as the two young men stepped away in horror at what had happened.

Fighting the wave of dizziness that threatened to
overwhelm
her, Alex straightened up and faced the group, now
standing up against the wall, their heads down. Alex gritted her teeth against the pain now flooding through her whole arm and said, ‘What the BLOODY HELL do you think you’re doing? Stand up straight you stupid little idiots! Well? Can’t I leave you for a second without this sort of reckless, dangerous behaviour breaking out? Come on – you’re all just this far away from being breached.’

She held up her good hand, finger and thumb barely apart. There was silence from the group apart from the odd
shuffling
of feet. On the floor behind her one of the pool cues rolled noisily into a corner, bouncing a couple of times off the wall before coming to rest.

Taking a deep breath, Alex glared at the ringleader. ‘Brian – over here. NOW!’, she added, as the object of her fury tried to slide behind Darren. Brian shuffled over towards her, eyes flicking from side to side. With his lank, greasy hair and jerky movements he resembled a cornered animal, she thought. A dangerous cornered animal. Finally, he stood in front of her, but the twitching didn’t stop, even when he lifted his head to stare at her sullenly. He’d lost weight again, she realized. He had been lean and fit a few months ago when he took part in the raft race, the weeks of living in a secure and caring
environment
with Pauline working their magic as an enthusiastic and cheerful boy emerged from the husk of the Brian she knew only too well. There was something wrong again – something serious. She glanced across at the other three who were still huddling together on the far side of the room. There was a lot of trembling going on and although she hoped she commanded some respect she didn’t think they were that scared of her.

‘Right, clear up this stuff,’ she said. ‘You are all out of here today. I’ll be logging this in your records and expect you back here tomorrow morning – on time. You’re not getting credited with today either.’ Darren opened his mouth to protest. ‘Don’t say a word, just think yourselves lucky no-one was more seriously hurt. I’ll see each of you tomorrow and decide then whether I want you in my day centre, so I suggest
you spend some time thinking of reasons why you should stay.’

Brian fixed her with a glassy stare. He was sweating, she noticed, his face turning pink and with a sheen across his forehead. For a moment she thought he was going to throw up as he burped and then swallowed a couple of times but then he turned on his heel and stormed out, the door
slamming
shut behind him. She waited until the other three had finished putting the pool table to rights and followed Brian out of the room before allowing herself to sink into one of the dilapidated armchairs in the corner, hunched over her arm in agony.

‘Well, that solves a few problems for me,’ said Alex that evening as she and Sue sat in front of the fire.

Sue looked over her wine glass at her friend. ‘So no
driving
?’ she said.

‘Not for a while anyway,’ Alex confirmed. ‘The bone’s chipped, they said. Not broken but actually worse in some ways.’ She flexed her fingers experimentally and winced as the movement sent the pain throbbing through her whole arm. ‘Well, at least I can still work – I was dreading having to tell Garry I’d be off again. I don’t feel exactly secure as it is. I just get the feeling he would love to get rid of me.’

Sue refilled their glasses, in defiance of the instructions from the hospital about mixing pain killers and alcohol, and settled back in her chair.

‘I think you should talk to the Union,’ she said. ‘Don’t give me that look – you know he’s trying to bully you. He
is
bullying you, otherwise you wouldn’t be thinking about going to work with that arm.’

Alex was saved from having to answer by a knock on the door. Sue disappeared for a moment, returning with Lauren, a rather sheepish PC Dave Brown in tow. Lauren jumped on to a sofa and accepted a drink but Dave declined on the grounds he was driving and really should set a good example.
Sue went in to the kitchen to make tea, leaving their guests with Alex. Lauren looked around in frank curiosity.

‘Is even more books than I remember,’ she said. ‘How many you got now then?’

Alex grinned and shook her head, ‘I don’t count them,’ she said, ‘I just read them.’

‘And hardly ever dust them,’ said Sue, returning with a mug of tea for Dave.

Alex laughed. ‘I remember when I was training in London, I had quite a reasonable little flat – a bedsit with a separate kitchen, but there was a bath in the kitchen! No, really, under a lift-up counter. It was wonderful, having my own bath up there in the eaves. Anyway, my landlady was a fascinating but eccentric Polish woman and she came round one day to have a chat. She said she was worried about all the books.’ Alex took a slug of wine, set down her glass and continued. ‘I thought perhaps she thought they were too heavy for the floor so I tried to reassure her they were mainly paperbacks and not all that heavy but she sighed and threw her hands up in the air. “It is not good”, she said, “Not healthy”. I couldn’t work out what was the matter until she leaned over, grabbed my arm and said, “Dust Alex, so much dust they attract. Not healthy at all”.’

The laughter was cut short by another knock on the front door. Alex and Sue looked at one another in surprise. One set of visitors in the evening was unusual. Two lots were completely unheard of. Dave saw their anxious looks and got to his feet.

‘I’ll go,’ he said. ‘Might be someone from the station
anyway
. I have to leave my contact details seeing as I’m working on this big case at the moment.’

There was a hush in the back room as the three women strained to hear what was happening at the door. There was a rumble of male voices, then the sound of the door being closed again and Dave walked back into the room.

‘It’s your brother, Alex,’ he said. ‘He’s just taking off his coat.’

‘Alex stared at him is astonishment, her shock showing on her face. In her mind she offered a silent prayer, ‘Let it be Archie, let it be Archie, please let it be Archie …’

A tall, blond man in his late 30s appeared in the doorway just behind Dave.

‘Hello, Sis,’ he said cheerily. ‘You in the wars again? What is it this time then?’ He beamed at the assembled company. ‘Hello everyone. I’m Hector – Hector Hastings Norman. Jolly nice to meet you all.’

He flung himself down on the sofa, his weight bouncing Lauren up in the air and sending the rest of her drink spilling over them both.

‘You girt stupid bugger!’ she yelped, pulling away from him and brushing ineffectually at her stained jumper.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Hector rummaging in his pocket and pulling out a clean, white handkerchief. ‘Here, let me help’. He reached over to her but Lauren sprang off the couch and turned away from him.

‘Reckon we’d better be going,’ she said, her eyes bright with anger. Alex heaved herself to her feet, awkward with one arm in a sling. ‘I’m really sorry about this Lauren. Please, don’t go yet. I can find you something clean and we can wash that, get the stain out straight away.’

Lauren’s expression softened for a moment. ‘No, is all right – will come out easy enough. We just dropped by to see you was all right. Don’t you worry – is not your fault.’

She delivered this last comment over her shoulder at Hector, who had risen from the sofa and now stood, towering over her. He looked, Alex thought, like a mournful giraffe. She followed Lauren and Dave out into the front room, pulling the connecting door to behind her.

‘Actually Dave, I’m really glad you called round. I wanted to ask you about something.’

Dave shrugged on his heavy coat and held Lauren’s jacket for her.

‘Fire away. I’ll help if I can. Something professional is it?’

Alex nodded. ‘Yes. Is there any talk of something new doing the rounds?’ Dave looked up sharply and she hurried on. ‘I was with the lads today and I’m sure they’d taken something. One of them was sweating – I thought he was running a temperature at first. And they were all jumpy; on edge but loud, and – not aggressive, but uncontrolled. More so than usual.’