A car crunches up the track, pulling into the yard. Mrs Collier looks out from the kitchen to see a uniformed police officer stepping out. She emerges, wiping soapy hands on a cloth."Afternoon officer. Is there something we can do for you?""Good afternoon Mrs…?""Collier.""Thank you." He takes a notebook from a pocket, jotting into it. "Good afternoon Mrs Collier. I'm looking for someone, a young woman by the name of Jennifer Conners. I understand she lives at this address. Is she around?""Jenny? No, she's not here." Mrs Collier frowns, pursing her lips. "Is she in some sort of trouble?""Nothing to worry about." The officer's smile is tight and somehow, not pleasant. "I just need a word with her. Got a couple of things we need to clear up. Where would I find her?" He swings his head around the yard, eyes invisible behind dark glasses."As I said, she's not here,"Something subtle shifts in his manner, an air almost of menace. He flips back a couple of sheets in the
Bech leans against the car, arms folded, pondering what best to do next.Klempner'll fuckin' fry me if I tell him I don't have the bitch....He looks up at the sound of footsteps. A young man, tall, blond, blue-eyed and unusually handsome approaches, then turns in to the Bennett house."Excuse me, would you be Chad Bennett?"He halts and turns. "Yes, that's right." He draws closer, looking surprised at first. "Why would a police officer be asking for me?""I'm asking in connection with Jennifer Conners. She's your wife I understand?"The man's eyes narrow. "Was my wife. What do you want with Jenny?""Was your wife? You're divorced?""If the papers haven't gone through yet, it'll happen any day. Now, why are you asking about Jenny? Has something happened to her?""We're trying to find her in connection with a series of recent petty thefts and scams."Chad snorts. "I don't believe that for a minute. You've got the wrong woman." Then he measures up the man in front of
RichardI'm pulled from my reverie by Charlotte's reply. "Yes, I would do that again. I couldn't leave Beth in here by herself. And I had to stop them realising that you were here."James' eyes soften, losing a little of their slit-eyed savagery. He glances across to Elizabeth, then back at Charlotte. "Beth is not your responsibility....""But she is," insists Charlotte. "She's my friend. It matters what happens to her. If you're going to punish me, then get on with it. I'd rather not wait, and I'm sorry for upsetting you, but I'm not sorry for what I did."His head tilts back, his gaze heading ceilingward for a few seconds, but the first blast of his rage is ebbing away. When he turns back to her, his voice is milder, although still with an edge."I haven't decided yet if I'm going to punish you. Astonishingly, I'd like to hear what you have to say."She looks up to him, meets his eye, then away again, blinking fast. "I didn't want Beth to get hurt." James' eyes flash t
RichardIt feels unreal. It can't possibly be real. The mind rejects such things. This isn't reality. It is the stuff of nightmares.The awful sight of James as the bullet impacts. His body jerking and jolting as he takes the shot intended for Charlotte. The agony and the shock when he cries out as he falls, unconscious, to lie in a pool of his own blood; a pool that spreads and grows, fed by the spurt of red where Corby's bullet speared into his flesh.Michael, gasping for breath, his blond hair dark with sweat, and eyes opaque with shock from the failure of his desperate attempt to bring Corby down before he could fire the shot.And Charlotte, howling in horror and disbelief, on hands and knees, covered in blood, James' blood, as she clutches and scrapes at his body.Is he dead?No....The blood is pumping....I have never seen Charlotte in anything like this condition. Always before, no matter how dire the situation, she has handled it. More than handled it. She has
JennyA lone figure steps from a bus.Simply dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt, long red hair tied back in a pony-tail, the figure drops a rucksack at her feet, looks right, then left, then all around.She doesn't look lost, more.... assessing....Remembering perhaps....Then, with a sigh, she swings the rucksack over her shoulder and steps out.*****The work isn't great, and neither is the pay, although there is a little extra for working the midnight shift.She cleans tables, clears dishes, serves cheap meals and hot drinks to late-night customers. And she is still working when the early shift-workers amble into the road, clearing garbage and rattling bins.*****Working behind the cafe bar, making up sandwiches and snacks, at first Jenny doesn't notice. The large screen over-looking the bar runs daytime TV, blarting out game results and gossip news, soaps and reality shows. Just now it is giving out some actual news, but she's really not listening. TV holds ve
RichardWhen Elizabeth and I arrive at the hospital, James is still in surgery. Charlotte and Michael, silent and strained, sit out in a waiting area. A couple of dozen seats accommodate a sketch of humanity: a small crying child, perhaps a girl, although it's hard to tell through the snot and tears, with her mother trying to comfort her. A couple of old ladies sit talking and laughing raucously, sharing tea from a flask. Two young men try to control a comrade who yells and struggles, clearly much the worse for drink and with a head wound bleeding down his face and clothes.Michael looks rough, sitting with one arm around her shoulders, his other hand holding hers.Charlotte looks appalling. Her eyes, dark-rimmed, are bloodshot hollows. Her hair and clothes, while she's obviously made some attempt at cleaning up, still carry traces of James' blood. As we arrive, she looks up and then away again, lost in tears and misery.They don't belong here....I catch Michael's eye, but h
JamesI'm so tired. Passively, I lie in the dark, unable to sleep, haunted by the waking nightmare of something that I can't quite remember.Charlotte lies next to me, I think asleep, but as the door clicks open and then closes again, she stirs. Her voice is sleepy. "Hi."Michael's voice is low, "Hi, how are you? Feeling better now?""I'm fine. I just needed some sleep.""How is he?""Asleep too I think. He seems okay. Certainly on the mend.""Good." There is rustling and then movement as he gets into the bed beside her. Then the small sounds of intimacy, sighs, murmurs, a kiss."I'd like to hold you for a while. Is that okay?""Of course it is. Michael, I wanted to say thank you and sorry.""Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?""For.... I've been so awful, and I couldn't have coped without you. I thought I'd lost him and I ignored you.""Hey.... Shhhh. This is my half of the deal remember. It's part of the reason James brought me in. For when he can't b
JamesThe voices....".... he loves you more than his own life. Wherever he is in there, he is trying to come back to you.""You think he can hear us? You think he can hear me when I talk to him?""Yes, I'm sure he can hear you. He might not remember it later, but I'm sure he can hear you.""I'll keep reading to him then...."Who are you?.... a pale face framing green eyes....Who are you?Who am I coming back to?*****FIVE YEARS AGOChad faces his mother, pale and controlled. "You went through my room?"She pushes a plate of scones at him. "It was for the best, Chad. We know you still feel something for Jenny, after everything she put you through and....""You went through my room?" he repeats. "And you gave private information to a complete stranger without my permission?""She was only trying to help," says Mr Bennett. "Sometimes you have to listen to your parents....""I'm not a child. I am a grown man and you went through my stuff? My private belo