The Thief of Time (36 page)

Colin looked incredibly upset now, as if this was his own son lying in the hospital. ‘He's a young man, isn't he, Roach?'

‘He's twenty-two, Colin.'

‘And would you say that drugs played a part in these events? Roach.'

‘Hard to say for definite right now, Colin, but it is well known that Tommy DuMarque leads an
extravagant
lifestyle. He's photographed at clubs seven nights a week and I have heard reports that producers at the BBC wanted to put him through a rehabilitation course as his life was spinning out of control. He's been in trouble for continued lateness and also for an article written by a prominent
newspaper
columnist; he was widely believed to be the subject of a column detailing his wild lifestyle and
sexual
habits. Colin.' I noticed that his head twitched with every stressed word.

‘And I assume his family are gathered around his bedside this morning, Roach?'

‘Unfortunately, both of Tommy DuMarque's parents are dead but his girlfriend is here at the moment and I believe his uncle spent several hours in the hospital early this morning. No word yet on whether Sarah
Jensen,
who plays love interest and sister-in-law Tina Cutler on the show and whose television affair with DuMarque has captivated millions over the last few months, has come to visit him but we'll let you know as soon as she gets here. Colin.'

Without so much as a goodbye, Colin's chair swivelled back round to face the camera and Roach's image vanished. Colin promised to keep us all in touch with the story throughout the day as it developed before his face changed entirely to tell us of a panda named Muffy which had just been born in London Zoo. I considered getting dressed and going out for the papers but I knew that Tommy's state would be front page stuff and couldn't be bothered. Instead I put on some music and closed my eyes, allowing my mind to drift away from these current problems, if only for a little while.

Lee Hocknell opened and closed his mouth like a fish as he stood before me, unsure what to say. His surprise at seeing me was typical of his stupidity for surely he would have known that I would arrive at the hospital as soon as I heard the news. I mean I might have had a lot of nephews in my time but Tommy was the only one of them who was still alive. Lee was dressed quite fashionably and I noticed that he had undergone a severe haircut since I had last seen him at his father's funeral. It was cut close to the scalp and stood out in tufted bunches, a definite improvement on the hippie look he had sported for the funeral.

‘Mr Zéla,' he said when I let him go and stood staring at him furiously, ‘I didn't see you -'

‘What the
hell
are you doing here?' I repeated, edging closer towards him. ‘How long have you been here? How did you find out about this?'

He stood back in surprise as if it should be obvious how he had found out about Tommy's overdose and in a moment, of course, it was. ‘It was me who brought him in here,' he explained. ‘We were at a club, you see, and he suddenly started to act weird. Collapsed on the floor. I thought he was dead. I called an ambulance and brought him here. He woke up on the way so then I thought he must be all right but now they say he's gone into a coma. Is that right?'

‘Well, yes,' I said quietly, wondering why on earth Lee Hocknell had been in a club with my nephew in the first place. I looked around and saw a quiet corner of the reception area and led him firmly towards it, sitting him down beside me with as threatening an expression on my face as I could muster. ‘Now,' I said, ‘I want to know what you were doing with him in the first place. You don't know each other, do you?'

He looked at the ground and sighed. For a moment, he was like a little boy who had been caught doing something he shouldn't and was trying to think of how to lie his way out of it. When he looked back up at me, he was biting his lip and I could tell that he was nervous. Whatever they had been doing, it had clearly got out of hand.

‘I phoned him, you see,' he explained, ‘about the script. Somehow I thought I'd have a better chance with him than with you. I told the people at the studio my name and said that he'd take my call. And he did too.'

‘Of course he did,' I said sternly. ‘We both received your letters and the script.'

‘Yeah,' he muttered in reply, unable to look me in the eye. ‘Anyway, I spoke to Tommy on the phone and told him that I wanted to meet with him. He wasn't sure, suggested bringing you along, but I told him that I wasn't trying to blackmail anyone or get them to do anything they didn't want to do. I just wanted to discuss it with him. Get some advice. It's like you said before, he knows a lot about the industry. I thought he could help me.' He sighed and paused before continuing, as if he genuinely wished that none of this had ever taken place. ‘So he said OK, he agreed to meet with me and we got together for a drink last night. And it just escalated from that. We got on really well actually,' he added, his face lighting up, and I realised that his whole persona had changed overnight from that of blackmailer to that of star-struck groupie. ‘We just had a really good laugh. We'd lots in common.'

‘Really?' I asked in surprise. I couldn't imagine what.

‘Oh, yeah. Well, like, we're the same age and everything. We're both, eh, artistic' I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. ‘We talked about my script of course.'

‘And what did he say?'

‘Tommy said it wasn't easy to get financing. Said he could put me in touch with some people though. He said it needed more work. That it would be a hard sell in its present condition.'

‘He's not wrong there,' I said.

‘He promised to help me,' he said quietly and, for a moment, I feared tears. He looked at me as if he was trying to convince me that my nephew, the celebrity, was his new best friend. From that position of glamour, I knew there was no such thing as a true friend. Spending time with someone famous is generally done for one reason and one reason only: because it's easier to get girls that way.

‘Listen, Lee,' I said slowly, my head spinning with the possibilities that his character could take on now. What kind of person was he exactly? ‘You were there that night, weren't you?'

‘Where?'

‘In the house. Your father's house. The night he died. You were there. That's what your script is all about, right?'

He nodded and blushed, which was bizarre. ‘I was upstairs,' he said. ‘I heard what happened. I know
you
didn't do it. But you should have called the police, that's all. You should have been honest about it. That story about him being at the office, well, it just wasn't true.'

‘Just explain this to me,' I said, unwilling to be preached at by this boy, particularly when I knew that he was probably right. ‘Are you actually expecting to blackmail Tommy and me with this information?' He didn't look at me, as if being actually faced with me, having to do this in person as opposed to through a letter, made the whole thing a lot harder. I suspected this was a good time to be having this conversation; when neither of us knew what was going to happen to Tommy and there was some possibility that Lee himself could be dragged into it.

‘I just need a start,' he said, unwilling to commit himself to a yes or no answer on the blackmailing question. ‘That's all I need. Just to get my career off the ground. I just thought one of you could help me. And, you know, I
may
have saved your nephew's life.'

‘Or you may have killed him. Tell me. What exactly happened? How did he OD?'

Lee licked his lips and thought about it. ‘We had a bit to drink,' he said. ‘And it was strange for me, because everyone in the pub was looking at us all the time, because they recognised Tommy of course and, while it was incredibly strange to feel that, I started to imagine they were looking at me too.'

‘Well, they probably were,' I admitted. ‘People always look at the person with the celebrity. They want to know who that is too. They assume it must be Someone with a capital “s” or they wouldn't be together. And most of the time it is too.'

‘Anyway, some people came over and asked for autographs. They looked at me and weren't sure whether they should ask me too. Some of them did and I signed. We pretended that I'd just joined the show. Tommy told them that in a month's time everyone would know who I was.'

‘Oh, for God's sake.'

‘It was just for fun, that's all. We didn't mean any harm. Eventually we decided to go on to a club and he asked me where I wanted to go. I named some place that I'd tried to get into a few times and always been refused and he just laughed and took me straight there in a cab. There must have been about a hundred people standing in a queue outside trying to get in but we went straight to the top and the bouncers just fawned all over him and let us right in without even having to pay. It was incredible! Every eye was on us. We got free drinks, a table. When we hit the dance floor, every woman in the place started coming on to us. It was amazing. The best night of my life.' He was staring at the floor as he spoke, and had taken on the look of a child in a toy store. Tommy had given him a glimpse of what it was like to be famous and he'd loved it. He was hooked now. We'd never get rid of him.

‘So what happened next?' I asked. ‘Where did the drugs come in?'

‘Tommy hooked up with a guy he knew there and they disappeared off to the toilets for a while to shoot up. He came back and he was fine. We picked up a couple of women, had a lot more to drink and decided to all go back to my place for some more.'

‘For God's sake,' I said. ‘This is like a rerun of how your father died. Don't you kids learn
anything7.'

‘I wasn't thinking about that,' he said, staring at me angrily. ‘I was ... All I wanted was ...'

‘You wanted to get laid,' I said. ‘Thank you, but I figured that one out. With those girls, with Tommy, with whoever. You just -'

‘Hey, hold on a second -'

‘No, you hold on,' I said, grabbing his collar. ‘You're an idiot, you know that? What drugs did you take?'

‘I didn't take any!' he said. ‘I swear it! It was just Tommy and this other guy. We'd only stepped outside the club and the air hit us and before I knew what was happening he was on the ground, rolling around. He didn't look too bad but then his eyes opened real wide and he wasn't moving and so we called an ambulance. That's it, that's the whole story. That's all that happened.'

‘All right, all right,' I said. ‘Fine.' Somehow, I felt sorry for him. All he wanted was to be somebody. He'd seen a chance for that and gone after it. He'd used some unfortunate tactics, granted, but rather than a vicious blackmailer, intent on squeezing us for everything he could gain, he appeared to me like a child, anxious for approval, looking for friends. I sat back and sighed. ‘I'm going home,' I said eventually, handing him a small notebook and pen from the inside pocket of my coat. ‘Write your number down in that,' I said. ‘I'll be in touch with you. I'm making no promises though, all right? Tommy wasn't exaggerating. Your script needs a
lot
of work.'

He wrote his number down greedily and I felt like laughing at the absurdity of the situation. This boy, I thought, is only going to cause me trouble. He didn't seem to care about his father dying, he'd withheld the truth from the police, he'd tried to blackmail me and, the worst crime of all, he was a terrible writer. So why was I so sure that I was going to help him after all?

Months passed and I began to grow less weary of Nat Pepys, for his visits became more irregular with time and when he was present he did not seem as interested in Dominique as I had previously thought. I continued with my work but began to think more seriously about moving on; my two fears were first, how Tomas would take the news as he had settled into life there better than any of us, yet there was no way that I felt I could leave without him, and second, whether Dominique would come with me at all. She wasn't a child; unlike my brother she could make her own decisions.

It was summer now and a birthday party was taking place for Alfred junior, the religious second son of Sir Alfred Pepys. About fifty people had gathered for the festivities which were taking place outdoors. The morning dew left a shine on the grass which sparkled when the sun caught it. The flowerbeds were all in bloom and the estate looked as healthy and vital as it ever had.

Jack and I were tending to the carriages and horses which lined the driveway of Cageley House from the entrance right to the stables where we generally worked. We were carting bucketloads of water to the horses to prevent dehydration in the heat; in truth it was we who were feeling the effects of the heatwave as we went from one end of the estate to the other, carrying heavy buckets all the way. We were not allowed to take our shirts off when there was company present, so they were sticking to our backs through our perspiration. I began to lose track of my work, going to and fro without even realising the time passing or the number of horses to whom we were attending. The day grew almost white with brightness before my eyes and I could see no one or hear nothing until eventually, as I filled yet another bucket from the tap beside the stables, I felt Jack's hand on my shoulder, shaking me lightly.

‘Enough,' he said, collapsing on the grass beside me. ‘We've done enough for now. They're all OK.'

‘You think?' I asked, almost ready to cry with relief. ‘We can take a break?'

He nodded. In the distance out towards the lawn, we could see some of the guests mingling, sipping glasses of ice cold lemonade. I heard footsteps behind me and grinned as I saw Dominique come towards us with a tray. ‘You two ready for something to eat?' she asked, smiling at us, and I doubt if either of us had ever been happier to see a living soul. She had prepared some bread and meat for us and a tall pitcher of lemonade stood in the centre of the tray, with a couple of tankards of beer beside it. We ate and drank gratefully for a few minutes, saying nothing as our strength returned to us. I could feel the lemonade passing through my throat and into my body, its sweetness going some way to restoring my blood sugar levels, and I began to feel less shaky and, instead, tired.

‘This is no way to live,' I said eventually, rubbing at the muscles in my arms, astonished by how much larger my forearms had grown in recent months. I was stronger than I had ever been but unlike Jack, whose body seemed naturally designed for strength and muscle, I was still sinewy, the brawn seeming almost too much for my still youthful frame. ‘I need another job.'

‘You and me both,' he said, although he was a little closer to it than I was. Jack had decided that he wouldn't stay at Cageley past the summer and privately he had told me that he was planning on handing in his notice the following week. He had enough money to make his way to London and to survive for several months if need be, although he was convinced that he would find work as a clerk relatively easily. I didn't doubt it. He had bought a brand new suit and when he dressed up in it late one night to show me, I was astonished by the transformation. The stable lad seemed more of a man than any of the Pepys boys, who had gained adulthood and respectability simply through age and money; he was tall and handsome and wore the suit with the air of a man who was born to wear one. As he was also intelligent and quick-witted, I could not envision a situation where he would not find employment within a matter of days.

‘Don't you two have any work to be getting on with?' Nat Pepys appeared from behind us and we sat up, squinting in the sunlight, shielding our eyes with the backs of our hands.

‘We're eating our lunch, Nat,' said Jack aggressively.

‘Looks to me like you've already eaten it, Jack,' replied Nat quickly. ‘And it's
Mr
Pepys to you.'

Jack snorted and lay back down; I wasn't sure what to do. Nat was afraid of Jack – that was easy to see – but it was unlikely that anything more than talk would ever happen. As if to reassert his authority, Nat poked the toe of his boot into my ribs, making me jump up angrily.

‘Come on, Matthieu,' he said, using my given name for once. ‘Get up and get this stuff cleared away.' He indicated the tray with the empty plates and tankards. ‘It's a mess. You're like a couple of pigs, the pair of you.'

I wasn't sure what to do, but eventually I picked up the offending items and brought them towards the kitchen, depositing them abruptly in the sink, causing Dominique and Mary-Ann to jump in surprise.

‘What's up with you?' asked Mary-Ann.

‘Just wash ‘em,' I said aggressively. ‘It's your job, not mine.' With a loud curse, I marched out and walked back to Jack, who was reclining on his elbows now, watching as I came towards him, and Nat walked away. When I looked across again at the kitchen doorway, Dominique and Nat were close in conversation and she was laughing at something he was saying. I breathed heavily and felt my fists clench. A fly buzzed in my face and I lashed out at it, blinded momentarily by the sun as my head jerked upwards. When I saw again, I could see their heads bending closer together and Nat's hand moving towards the back of her dress, reaching lower and lower until she looked at him coyly and a horrible smile spread across his face. My whole body grew tense with the knowledge of what I was about to do next.

‘Mattie, what's wrong?' Vaguely, I could sense Jack beside me, trying to grab my arm as I marched towards Nat and Dominique. ‘Mattie, stop it, it's not worth it,' he continued, but I could barely see him, so intent was I on the object of my anger, which at that moment could have been either of them; it could have been the innocent Jack himself, so enraged was I within. I saw Nat turn to look at me and a sudden recognition of trouble spread across his face. He could see that I had lost my reason and that position, employment, money or servitude would count for nothing now. He took a step backwards as I reached him, grabbing him by the lapels and pulling him around. He fell awkwardly on the ground and struggled to find his feet as I made beckoning motions towards him.

‘Get up,' I said, my voice deep and emerging from a place within myself I barely knew existed. ‘Get up, Nat.'

He rose and made to turn around but I took hold of him again, just as both Dominique and Jack took a hold of me. Without realising it, they had grabbed me from both sides, lowering my defences, making me helpless as Nat found his footing, pulled one arm back and threw a punch at my face. It was not fierce or particularly strong, but it stunned me for a moment and I fell backwards, preparing to recover myself and lunge at him, to kill him if necessary. As I blinked back into the daylight, my right fist clenched and I walked towards him, pulling it back as Jack shouted at me to stop. He knew what the consequences would be for me if I knocked Nat Pepys unconscious and so, as Dominique ran between us, getting in my way for a moment, he did it himself. He found the same anger within his own body and, most likely unwilling to let a man like Nat Pepys destroy my life, he launched his own attack, felling him with a slap to his left cheek, a punch in the stomach and a final right hook to the face.

Nat collapsed, bloody and unconscious, to the ground and we all three stood over him, witnessing the effects of our actions with increasing horror. The whole episode had lasted no more than a minute.

Jack was gone before Nat even regained consciousness. He lay there on the ground before us, broken, his face covered in the blood that was gushing from both his nose and his mouth. Within a few minutes the guests from the party were coming in our direction. A lady screamed, another fainted. The men looked indignant. Eventually, a doctor came towards us and he bent over Nat in order to examine him.

‘We have to get him into the house,' the doctor said, and some of the younger men lifted him and carried him indoors. Within a few minutes, only Dominique, Mary-Ann and I were left standing outside.

‘Where's Jack gone?' I asked in a daze, incredulous at the chain of events which had brought us here. I looked around blankly for my friend.

‘Took a horse and fled,' said Mary-Ann. ‘Did you not see him?'

I shook my head. ‘No,' I said eventually.

‘Slipped away through the crowd a few minutes ago. No one noticed because everyone was looking at Nat lying there.'

I wondered whether Nat would be all right and pulled my hair away from my face in frustration; it was all my fault. I spun around and stared at Dominique angrily. ‘What happened?' I shouted at her. ‘What the hell happened here?'

‘You're asking me?' she yelled back, her face pale now. ‘You're the one who came charging towards us. You looked like you were going to kill him.'

‘He was all over you,' I roared. ‘I saw where his hands were going. You don't understand -'

‘I'm not yours to protect!'
she screamed, before turning on her heels and running back into the kitchen. I shook my head in frustration. Beneath my feet a pale puddle of water and blood had gathered.

By nightfall, the story was all around the village. Jack had attacked Nat Pepys, had broken his jaw and two of his ribs, knocked out most of his teeth, stolen a horse from his employer and disappeared. The local constabulary were already giving chase. I lay in my bed at the Ambertons', unable to sleep as I worried for my friend. All his plans, everything he had been intending to do over the next few months, all potentially vanished because of me. My jealousy. At least Nat hadn't died; that was something. All I could think of was how Jack had done it because it had to be done; he had acted so I wouldn't have to.

The next morning, I rose before five and went straight to Cageley House. I had no idea whether I still had a job or not – I suspected not. Yet, I wasn't so worried about the turn of events since I now knew that I did not intend to stay around much longer at Cageley anyway; my time there had run out. I wanted to see Dominique. I wanted her to tell me how she felt. I discovered her walking across the fields as the day broke, her face white and her eyes a heavy red. She had clearly not slept either.

‘No sign of him yet,' I said, unsure whether I meant this as a question or a statement. She shook her head.

‘He's long gone,' she replied. ‘He'll be halfway to London by now. Jack's not stupid.'

‘Isn't he?' I asked, and she stared at me.

‘What's that supposed to mean?'

‘He was leaving anyway,' I said. ‘He'd saved up enough money. He'd bought a suit. He was planning on putting himself out as a clerk in London. He was giving in his notice next week.'

She sighed loudly and I thought she was going to cry. ‘This is all my fault,' she said, her French accent slipping back into place as she began mentally to dissociate herself from Cageley. ‘We should never have come here. We had plans. We should have seen them through.'

We.
How long since I had heard her use that phrase? As much as I despised myself for it, I began to see a positive outcome to this: that things would go back the way they had been a couple of years before, back in Dover. We would leave together, live together, stay together, grow old together. I found myself pushing the thought of Jack to the back of my mind, like an inconvenience in my plans and, as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn't help it. I bit my lip in frustration.

‘What is it?' she asked, stopping and taking my hand in hers. I felt tears welling behind my eyes and bit down harder.

‘He's ...' I began, rubbing the heel of my hand to my eye quickly to wipe them away. ‘He's my friend,' I said simply, my voice catching slightly. ‘Jack ... he's ... he's my friend. Look what he did for me. And look what I did to him. I'm ... I've ...' I collapsed in tears and fell to the ground, burying my head in my arms to prevent her from seeing me in this condition. The more I tried to stop, the stronger the convulsions grew until I was babbling a stream of nonsense and my mouth was contorted with misery.

‘Matthieu, Matthieu,' she whispered, wrapping herself around me, holding me to her as I wept upon her shoulder. She shushed me and rocked me back and forth like a baby until eventually I could cry no more and pulled away from her, tugging my shirt from my trousers to dry my face with. ‘It's not your fault,' she said but there was no conviction in her voice and I didn't even need to utter the words ‘Of course it is'. I had destroyed Jack, my true friend, and he had saved me. And all I could think about was getting us all away from there and leaving him behind.

‘What kind of man am I?' I asked her, hesitantly.

We walked back towards the house slowly. We knew not what awaited us there. There was a good chance that Dominique's position would be safe for now but I feared what might happen when I arrived there. Sure enough, I saw Sir Alfred standing outside the front door with a constable. They stared at us as we came across the field, continuing to talk but not letting me out of their sight as I walked towards them. When we got to the point where we should turn off for both the stables and the kitchen, he shouted to me and I turned around; he beckoned me over. I sighed and looked at Dominique, taking both her hands in mine.

‘If we can leave here without any trouble,' I said, ‘will you come with me?'

She looked at me, exasperated, and threw her eyes to the sky. ‘Where would we go?' she asked.