Owning Jacob - SA (31 page)

'Oh … not bad. You?'

'FineJ' There was a pause. 'I just wanted to say …' Don't. Not 'Happy New Year'. Please don't.

'... Wel , you know. I'm thinking of you.' Ben felt a lump rise in his throat.

'You there, Ben?'

'Yeah.' Somebody whooped in the background. There was a burst of laughter. He could hear someone cal ing his father's name.

It sounded like his stepmother.

Td better go,' his father said, but didn't break the connection. Whoever was cal ing his name grew louder. 'Look after yourself.' Ben tried to say something, but the background noise of the party had been replaced by the dial ing tone.

He put down the receiver. Fireworks were being let off outside. It couldn't be long after midnight. He wiped his eyes.

'Fuck it,' he said, for no particular reason, and went over to where he'd left the vodka.

The New Year carried on from where the old had left off.

There was work, and there was going out after work, and there was going home to an empty house. January had always been his least favourite month. He told himself it was just a matter

of getting through it. One rainy Sunday afternoon he realised as he watched a video that it should have been his contact day.

He'd forgotten about it. It upset him not because he'd held out any hope of Kale letting him see Jacob, but because he was already starting to let things slide. It seemed to foreshadow the way things would be in future.

He wondered if he shouldn't stop clutching at straws, aim for something more attainable like his contact rights, as Usherwood advised. But the same arguments stil applied. Kale wasn't going to share his son, no matter what anyone said. As long as he had Jacob he would continue to do what he liked, until he ultimately did something that even the authorities couldn't ignore.

Ben hoped Jacob could survive his father's free wil for that long.

He expected to hear from Ann Usherwood soon after the New Year, but February arrived without any word from her. He had begun to regard Sandra Kale's past as another dead end when the solicitor cal ed him one morning.

'How soon can you get in to see me?' she asked.

He was at the studio, just about to start a shoot. His first impulse was to cancel it, then he thought about Zoe and decided against. 'Not til tomorrow. Have you found something?'

'Enough to know that the social services didn't check up as wel as they should/ she told him. 'Sandra Kale's got a twelve-year-old criminal record for prostitution and drug offences.

She's been married before, to a pimp and drug pusher cal ed Wayne Carter. It was in Portsmouth, under a different local authority, and when she divorced him she reverted back to her maiden name. Unless the social services here ran a pretty thorough check on her background - which they obviously didn't - they could easily have missed it.'

Excitement and disbelief blew away Ben's depression. But Usherwood hadn't finished.

'That's not al they missed,' she went on. 'Sandra and Wayne Carter had a child, a little girL She died from parental abuse when she was eighteen months old.'

The rain had stopped for a while, but by the time the figures began straggling out of the pub it had started to come down again. Most were men. They turned up their coat col ars and bunched their shoulders against the wind-lashed downpour, apparently preferring pasted-down hair and soaked shoulders to the effeminacy of an umbrel a.

Ben watched the last of the afternoon drinkers hurry away.

The street became deserted again. He cracked open one of the car windows a little to clear some of the condensation. A fine spray of rain gusted in, making him shiver. He'd turned the engine off when he'd parked twenty minutes earlier, and the warmth the heaters had built up had largely gone now.

He tucked his hands under his arms and waited. After another half-hour the pub door opened again and a woman came out. She was half hidden behind a telescopic umbrel a which she struggled to keep from blowing inside out. Ben wiped the misted glass, not sure if it was her. Then a gust of wind plucked open her coat and revealed the shortness of the skirt underneath, and he knew it was.

Her umbrel a blew inside out just as she reached the car.

She stopped as she wrestled with it. "The wind tried to tear the passenger door from Ben's fingers as he reached across and opened it.

Want a lift?' Sandra Kale squinted through the rain, trying to see him.

He could tel when she realised who he was by the way her face suddenly became set. With a jerk she inverted the umbrel a right side out again. Her high heels tapped on the wet pavement as she strode on as if he weren't there.

'I can always come round to the back of the house instead,' he said.

She stopped and looked at him, trying to gauge his meaning. He was getting a twinge in his back from leaning over to hold open the door. 'There's no point walking in this,' he said.

She stood, indecisive. Then, with a quick glance up and down the street, she folded the umbrel a and got in.

She sat next to him, breathing slightly heavily as he pul ed away. The inside of the car smel ed of her perfume and wet cloth. Damp and cold had entered with her, but he thought he could detect her heat underneath it. Her hair, darkened to something like its natural colour by the rain, stuck to her forehead and the back of her neck. Water beaded the skin of her face like sweat.

He noticed a large bruise on one cheek, unsuccessful y disguised with make-up.

'What do you want?' she asked.

We need to talk.'

'Do we?'

'I think so.'

'I don't. I've got nothing to say to you.'

"You might have when you know what I want to talk about.' He wasn't as confident as he tried to sound. His excitement over Ann Usherwood's news had faded when she'd told him that an undisclosed criminal record - particularly one twelve years old - didn't have any bearing on the current situation.

It would embarrass the social services, but that was al . And I

while the death of Sandra's own child was more serious, only her husband had been prosecuted. He'd been found guilty of manslaughter; the worst charge against her was neglect.

'Kale can't be held responsible for what his wife did before she met him, in any event,' the solicitor had said. 'And even if she was deemed unfit to live in the same house as another child, which frankly I can't see, who do you think he'd pick if he was forced to make a choice between them?' The answer to that didn't need thinking about. What did it take? he'd wondered, wearily. What the fuck did it take? Usherwood had gone on to tel him how it put them in a much better position to insist on his contact rights, and asked if he wanted her to present his case to the local authority now.

No, he'd said. Not yet There was someone he wanted to talk to first.

He was aware of Sandra Kale's scrutiny in the close confines of the car, but kept his own gaze on the road. They drove in silence until they reached the house. He parked and switched off the ignition.

'Say what you've got to say, then,' she said.

Td rather tel you inside.'

"You can't come in.' Beneath the aggression she sounded almost frightened.

If we stay here the whole street can see us. He won't like that if he hears about it, wil he?' Her mouth tightened, then she got out of the car. Ben picked up his bag from the back seat and fol owed her. The rain was bouncing up off the pavement, and he was soaked even in the few seconds it took him to reach the house. He half expected her to slam the front door behind her, but she left it open.

He went inside and wiped the water from his face. The hal way was dark and chil . There was a sour smel he couldn't identify. From further inside he could hear Sandra moving about. He headed towards the noise.

The hal way went past the lounge. The door was ajar.

He paused, taking in the clothing strewn on sofa and chairs, the toys and magazines on the floor. One of Jacob's T-shirts was hanging over the back of a chair. He could remember Sarah buying it. He turned away, skirting a car wheel propped up against the wal as he went into the kitchen.

The kitchen seemed at once familiar and strange, like somewhere visited in a dream. He was used to seeing it from the outside, framed first by the window, then the viewfinder, as two-dimensional as an image on a TV screen.

The reality was both more vivid and yet somehow less real. He couldn't quite believe he was there. I'm inside the boking~glass. He glanced through the window, but the hil side was obscured by the rain and mist, reduced to a vague shape.

In the foreground, the mound of wreckage formed a darker one below it.

Sandra finished plugging in a convector heater that stood against one wal and turned to face him. She leaned back against a work surface with her fists on her hips.

Wel ?' Now he was here Ben didn't know how to start. He put his bag on the floor.

'I want Jacob back.' Sandra stared at him, then put her head back and gave a laugh. 'Oh, is that al ?' Her expression became heavy with disdain, but there might have been an element of relief there, too. 'If that's al you wanted to say you might as wel fuck off back to London. Thanks for the lift.' The hot air from the convector heater hadn't yet warmed the room, but he was already feeling stifled in his bulky coat.

What are you frightened of?' I'm not frightened of anything. I just wish you'd piss off and leave us alone.'

'Leave you alone?' he said, incredulous. 'Al this started because you wouldn't let me see Jacob.'

'If you're so bothered about the little bastard you shouldn't have given him away.'

'I didn't know what Kale was like then.' She dropped her arms, stepped towards him. 'He's not a fucking dog! He's got a first name!' Ben refused to back down. You know what he's doing isn't right.'

'Do ir

'I think so. And you don't want Jacob here any more than I do.'

'What makes you such an expert on what I want?' Because I've watched you. 'Tel me I'm wrong.' She looked away. 'It doesn't make any difference anyway.

What I want doesn't matter,' she said, and the bitterness was so close to the surface he could have touched it. Abruptly, she turned back to him. "You think it's going to do any good, coming here? You think I'd real y help you? Even if I fucking could?'

'I hoped you might.'

'Wel , you hoped wrong! Sorry to disappoint you.' She went to her handbag and took out a packet of cigarettes.

'Even if I can't get Jacob back I want to make sure he's properly looked after,' Ben said. 'He needs special schooling, he needs to mix with other kids. He's not getting any of that,'

Sandra had a cigarette clamped tightly in her mouth. She struck a match and held it to the tip. 'Life's hard, isn't it?'

'What about al that macho shit with the weight, lifting it over Jacob's head in the garden? What happens if he drops it?' She looked at him sharply, but didn't ask how he knew.

The fear he'd thought he'd detected earlier flared in her eyes again for a moment. She blew smoke towards the ceiling. 'John won't drop it.'

'That's it, is it? One slip and Jacob's dead, but you just pretend it can't happen?' She shrugged.

Wasn't it enough letting your own daughter be kil ed without letting it happen again?' Her face went white. The bruise on her cheek was like a strawberry birthmark against it. 'Who told you that?' Ben hadn't wanted to bring it up quite so brutal y, but now he had there was nothing to do but carry on. 'I know you've been married before. And about your criminal record.'

He tried to convince himself he'd nothing to feel bad about Sandra swayed slightly, as if she were about to faint. She closed her eyes. "This is that fucking detective, isn't it? I wish John had kil ed him.' He nearly did, Ben thought 'Did he ask for money?' Her face was drawn as she nodded. 'He told John he'd tel the social services if he didn't pay him. Stupid bastard.'

'So Kale beat him up.' He thought she would shout at him again for using Kale's surname, but she didn't. They'd already gone beyond that She just looked at him, as if the question didn't deserve an answer.

He felt himself reddening. 'Didn't he know about your past until Quil ey told him?'

'He knew. It didn't matter to him, though. It never seemed to occur to him that anything could stop him getting Jacob back. He was his son, and that was it'

'Didn't it occur to you?'

'Of course it fucking occurred to me! But what do you think I was going to do? Tel him? I'd have been out on my ear if he'd thought I might stop him getting his precious little son back.

I didn't have one night's sleep for months, worrying about them finding out' The colour had come back to her cheeks, but she stil looked tired. 'When they didn't I was so fucking relieved.'

"Weren't you worried someone might recognise you on TV?'

"You think I stil look anything like I did twelve years ago?' she said, scornful y. 'Christ, I wish. Anyway, by then I thought it was al over. The social services hadn't traced me back to that stupid, doped-up little tart who let her husband beat her kid to death. I thought I'd final y put it al behind me. I'd earned a bit of limelight.' The brief animation went out of her. "Then that fucking detective turned up again.'

'How did Kale take it?' Ben asked.

She glared at him. The bruise stood out lividly on her cheek. 'How do you think?' He looked away, embarrassed.

'That was the first time he's ever hit me.' Ben thought about how Kale had thrown her against the fence. His disbelief must have shown. Her face hardened. Td married one man who knocked me about. Do you think I was going to marry another?' But she seemed to lack the energy to sustain any anger.

She sank back against the work surface again, pul ing on the cigarette as if it were a lifeline. 'God, I wish I'd never heard of you or your son. Why couldn't you just have left wel alone?'

It was something Ben had asked himself often enough. He didn't have an answer. 'I didn't ask for this. If your husband had been' - he was about to say 'reasonable', but that word no longer seemed to apply even remotely to Kale - 'had been different, I'd have settled for seeing Jacob once a month.' He wasn't sure if that was true, though. He couldn't think of any one point where things between him and Kale could have been otherwise. There seemed an inevitability about it, as though they were both chained by personality and events to tracks that had led to him being there, now, talking to Kale's wife in that room. And from there - where? He had a dizzying sense of standing outside himself, looking back on something that had already happened. He felt that the conclusion had already occurred, and was simply waiting for him to catch up with it.