He settled Bess and headed out once it got dark. There was a pub on the far side of the dual carriageway on the estate. Bit of a dive but exactly the sort of place where he could score. A bit of weed or some coke. Something to take the edge off. No – more than that. Something to help him get completely off his face. That’s what he needed now. And a tenner should cover it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Fiona
Fiona had been following the trial in the newspapers and on television. First there had been two anonymous witnesses, one a passer-by like she was and the other a local woman who knew both Danny and the men accused of killing him. She had given her evidence by video and with her voice distorted so she wouldn’t be recognized. That took real guts, Fiona thought.
Then yesterday had been a shambles by all accounts. The man who was on the witness protection programme appeared on remote video link losing his temper and swearing and trying to walk out of wherever he was and almost getting arrested. His behaviour was a gift to the defence. He’d come over as chaotic and unreliable and much had been made of his criminal background.
Joe had rung her last night. He didn’t go into any details, said nothing that she couldn’t have got from the media, but he told her the guy hadn’t done them any favours and it was a godsend she’d be on the stand the next day, redressing the balance.
He sounded weary, she thought.
‘It must be a strain for you,’ she said, ‘not knowing how it will go.’
‘Yeah, but it’s worse if you don’t even get to court. Some cases, they eat away at you.’
She thought he might say more, the wistful note in his voice, but he changed topic, picked up the pace. ‘Still, everything all right for tomorrow?’
‘Yes. I will get the tram but the early one.’
She’d been dillying and dallying over whether to get a taxi or the tram, fretting that if there was any disruption to the tram service she’d be late.
‘You sure? I can sort out a lift.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘I’ll see you there then. Goodnight.’
Owen had come in then, he’d been walking Molly home. Molly who’d been there after school one day last week coming down from Owen’s room with him when Fiona got home. Chatty and giggly with dyed black hair and panda eyes. Owen’s girlfriend. Owen blushed as he introduced them. Molly was in his English class, music too. Delicate-featured, half his size, Molly volunteered fulsome replies to Fiona’s pleasantries. A dark-haired pixie. Fiona peeped out of the living-room window when they’d left and saw them kissing, Owen stooping over to cuddle her.
Fiona was moved to see him so affectionate, delighted. Fiona presented Owen with a box of condoms the next day. Well, she left them in his room while he was skateboarding and told him as they were finishing dinner, let him eat first. She knew there’d likely be some awkwardness and he’d want to escape.
‘I know you might not need them yet but they’ll last a while. And it’s important you use them when you do have sex.’ She’d seen her share of young parents-to-be, still kids themselves, lives knocked sideways with an unexpected pregnancy.
Owen groaned and shook his head. Got to his feet.
‘Sex is great-’
‘Ugh, Mum!’
She felt her own face warm. ‘It’s a beautiful thing. It’s even better when you stay safe. Now that’s all I need to say,’ Fiona told him. ‘And don’t forget the dishwasher,’ she called after his retreating back.
This evening she reminded him about her court appearance.
‘Right,’ he nodded and kept on nodding as though if he did it for long enough he might dredge up something to say.
Fiona laughed and Owen scowled. ‘What?’
‘Nothing. You make me laugh, that’s all.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know.’ It was something to do with his awkwardness, the gap between the size of him and his childishness, the clumsiness and naivety. She found it funny when it wasn’t driving her to distraction.
The day of her court appearance was cool and grey with a fresh wind and she walked Ziggy early. Just a short run about the meadow, down to the bridge and back. There were gulls soaring high and circling over the river, the birds the same colour as the clouds. A cormorant took off from the far bank; its large wings made long slow strokes, powering it up and into the trees.
Fiona could smell the dark, sweet scent of water: earth, a hint of sewage and something flowery, reminiscent of shampoo. She wondered if waste-water ever got into the system, all those chemical fragrances. Ziggy chased a squirrel, then set out after a magpie. She called to him and they went back.
She had dreamt about Joe; a shameless, sexy dream that felt so real that when she woke she could feel the physical effects, the glow of warmth between her legs, the excitement fizzing on her skin, in her veins.
Now, when she met him at the witness suite, she was riddled with embarrassment, her greeting forced and brittle, barely able to take in what he was actually saying. He went to fetch her tea and Francine came into the waiting room. A Chinese couple were sitting in one corner with someone Fiona assumed was another volunteer. The other seats were empty. Francine gave Fiona her statement to read. Fiona’s hand shook lightly as she took the papers. A family passed along the corridor and with a start Fiona recognized them: the Macateers, Danny’s parents, Nadine, the grandma.
Fiona began to read. Remembered how she had sat with the police at the edge of the recreation ground, telling them what had happened. The sun high above, her palms, her knees, rusty with blood. Her eyes seized on the phrases stark and shorn of detaiclass="underline" they almost knocked me down, he wasn’t breathing, he was losing a lot of blood, I performed CPR.
The room was warm, airless, no hint of the wind blowing outside. Fiona felt a stir of anxiety, a band of heat across her shoulders. She took a slow breath. Joe appeared with her tea. It was hot and she scalded her lip, the burn bringing tears to her eyes.
‘All okay?’ He nodded at the statement.
‘Yes.’
‘And you?’ he asked gently.
‘Just want to get through it.’
He wore a dark shirt, charcoal grey with a thin lilac stripe in it. No tie. Top button undone. No hair visible there. She was appalled at her own shallowness. A murder trial and she was like some lovesick girl. This was his job, that was why he was here. Nothing more. She wondered about his kids again, was tempted to ask what they were like. Tell him about Owen and Molly.
Joe’s phone beeped and he excused himself, went out to take the call. Francine came back and chatted to Fiona – would she want to swear on a holy book or affirm? ‘Affirm,’ Fiona said. She’d no religious affiliation, didn’t believe in a God.
‘It shouldn’t be much longer,’ Francine reassured her. Fiona drank her tea. The Chinese couple said something to the volunteer, who got up to leave with them. ‘Just going for a smoke break,’ the volunteer said to Francine.
‘Maybe I’ll join them,’ Fiona joked.
‘Do you smoke?’ Francine asked her.
‘No, but I could start.’
Francine smiled. ‘I’ll go and see where we’re up to.’
Fiona stretched her neck, rolled her ankles, then Francine was back. ‘Yeah, they’re ready. We’ll go down.’
Fiona felt dizzy, heard the hum in her ears, took a breath and blew out slowly and followed Francine into the corridor. Joe was there. He nodded at her. His soft green eyes shone. ‘Good luck,’ he said. ‘You’ll be fine.’
She couldn’t speak. She kept one hand against the wall as they went downstairs, not trusting her balance. It felt as if the building was listing to one side, and that she would make a misstep.