‘Your parents are really very proud of you, you know.’
Banks almost choked on his tea. Where had that come from?
Mrs Green considered him through her tortoiseshell glasses. ‘You might not think so,’ she said, ‘and they might not admit it, but they are. Especially since that business last summer.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Oh, don’t think I don’t know about your differences. They never did approve of what you chose to do with your life, did they? Your dad thought you’d joined the enemy and your mother thought you’d let her down. That was clear enough to anyone who knew them.’
‘Was it?’
‘Oh, yes. And I knew where they were coming from, of course.’
‘What do you mean?’
She smiled. ‘Oh, don’t be so obtuse, Alan. You always did have that infuriating habit of pretending not to see the obvious. You wouldn’t have got far in your chosen career if you couldn’t even add together the basics. You had all the opportunities; they had none. They had to settle for their lot in life. And the Thatcher years were pretty tough around here. How do you think your dad felt when he saw coppers laying into workers on the news? Miners, whatever they were, they were still working men, like himself. How do you think he felt when he saw the police in riot gear waving their overtime pay in the faces of men who’d lost everything? Do you think he actually enjoyed working at that factory every day of his life? I’d say it was a cause for celebration when they made him redundant, but for him it was a blow to his pride. And your mother, cleaning up other folk’s messes? They made a lot of sacrifices for you, so you could do better than they had. And what did you do? You joined the police force. You must have known how people around here felt about the police.’
‘I’d say they expect us to make sure their cars are safe and keep the muggings and gang fights to a minimum.’
‘You always were a cheeky young beggar, Alan Banks. Perhaps now they do. But not back then.’
‘I know what you mean,’ said Banks.
‘But what I’m telling you is they know you’ve done well for yourself now. Every time you got a promotion they told me, and you should have heard the pride in their voices. “Our Alan’s a detective sergeant now,” they’d say. Or “They’ve made Alan detective chief inspector now!” I got sick of hearing about you. It just took them a long time to work it out, and they don’t find it easy to express. It also helped that you came down on the right side last time you were here. Of course, they always did dote on that useless brother of yours.’
‘Roy.’
‘Yes. I’m sorry, but you know I’ve always spoken my mind, and I can’t say I ever took to him. Sly, he seemed to me, two-faced, always up to something behind your back. You were no angel, mind, but you weren’t sly.’
Banks smiled as he buttered his scone, thinking about the time he had orchestrated going to bed with Kay while his parents were visiting his granny, and the time he and Tony Green had drunk some of Mr Green’s whisky and topped the bottle up with water. Whether he spotted it or not they never knew. Sly? All kids are sly, Banks thought; they have to be in their constant struggle with the inexplicable and unreasonable rules and regulations imposed on them by adults. But Banks knew how to take a compliment when he was offered one, even at the expense of his brother.
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Roy could be a bit of a handful.’
‘To say the least. Anyway, I don’t see much of your mum and dad any more, except when I bump into Ida on the street,’ Mrs Green went on. ‘That’s how I knew about the golden wedding. She invited me. It’s sad, though. People seem to isolate themselves when they get old. They don’t get out as much, and I don’t go to the Coach and Horses. How are they?’
‘Same as ever,’ said Banks. ‘Mum’s complaining about varicose veins and her bunions, but she doesn’t seem to do too badly. Dad’s still got his angina, but it doesn’t seem any worse. There’s a neighbour helps out. Bloke called Geoff Salisbury. Know him?’
Banks couldn’t swear to it, but he thought Mrs Green’s expression darkened for a moment. Her lips certainly tightened.
‘I know him,’ she said.
Banks leaned forward in his armchair. ‘You don’t sound so thrilled about it.’
‘Can’t say as I am. Oh, he’s a charmer all right is Geoff Salisbury. Bit too much of one for my liking.’
‘How did you meet him?’
‘He seems to have some sort of radar for all the old folks in trouble on the estate. He turns up everywhere at one time or another. Usually when you need help.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘More tea?’
‘Please.’ Banks held out his cup.
‘You know, you can smoke if you like.’ She smiled. ‘If I let you do it when you were fifteen, I can hardly stop you now you’re… what would it be?’
‘A lot older.’ Banks put his hand to his left temple. ‘Can’t you tell by the grey?’
Mrs Green laughed and touched her own head. ‘You call that grey?’ It was true, she had an entire head of fluffy grey hair.
‘Anyway,’ Banks said, remembering what Mr Green had died of, ‘thanks, but I’ve stopped.’
‘I won’t say that’s not good news. If only we’d all known all along what it was doing to us.’
‘You were saying? About Geoff Salisbury.’
‘I was, wasn’t I?’ She sat back in her chair, tea and saucer resting on her lap. ‘Oh, you know me. I tend to go off half-cocked on things.’
‘I’d still be interested to hear your thoughts,’ said Banks. ‘To be honest, I haven’t really taken to him myself, and he seems to be spending an awful lot of time around Mum and Dad.’
She waved a hand. ‘It’s nothing, really. He started coming around when Bill was sick. It was near the end and Bill was in a wheelchair, breathing from that horrible oxygen tank.’
‘What did he want?’
‘Want? Nothing. He never asked for a thing. Only to help. Give him his due, he’s a hard and willing worker, and he was certainly useful at the time. He fixed a few things around the house, ran errands.’
‘So what was the problem?’
‘You’ll think I was imagining things.’
‘Not necessarily.’
‘Well, it wasn’t any one thing, really. Just little things. The wrong change, or one of Bill’s tools would go missing. Nothing you could really put your finger on.’
Banks remembered the short change Geoff Salisbury had handed his mother yesterday evening. ‘Anything else?’
‘Ooh, just listen to us,’ said Mrs Green, refilling her teacup. ‘I’m being questioned by a policeman.’
Banks smiled. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to seem like that. Comes with the territory, I suppose.’
She laughed. ‘It’s all right, Alan. I was only teasing. But it’s hard to talk about. It was only a feeling.’
‘What feeling?’
She clasped the collar of her frock. ‘That he was… hovering… like the Angel of Death or something. Listen to me now. What a fool I sound.’
‘You don’t think Geoff Salisbury had anything to do with your husband’s death, do you?’
‘Of course not. No, it’s nothing like that. It was a faulty valve, they said, on the oxygen tank.’ She gave a harsh laugh. ‘Someone told me if we’d been living in America I’d have got millions of dollars in compensation.’
‘That’s probably true.’
‘Yes, well, if we’d been living in America we probably wouldn’t have been able to afford the medical treatment in the first place, and Bill would have died a lot sooner.’
‘Also true,’ said Banks. ‘Can you explain a bit more clearly? About this feeling you had.’
‘I’m not sure. I felt as if he were, you know, waiting, waiting in the wings until Bill died.’
‘For what?’
‘I don’t know. So he could take over more, maybe, manipulate me more.’