Peppercorn Street (11 page)

‘It must be returned, he says.’

‘I’ll take it back for you,’ Kieran promised rashly, though he’d not yet started driving again. But how hard could it be to go twenty miles and back? He wanted to make sure her parents couldn’t pretend anything went wrong with the return of the printer. He’d seen every
dirty trick in the book during his time as a journo.

‘Do you have a car, Kieran?’ Janey asked. ‘I’ve not seen you driving one.’

‘I’m only just starting to drive again. My car’s in that double garage to the side.’ Which wasn’t quite the truth. He’d not actually driven his replacement car at all. But surely he could manage such a short trip, or find a friend to help out if necessary?

‘Thank you. You’re very kind.’

He looked at the police officers. ‘Would I be in order to ask Janey’s father for a receipt for the items?’

They shrugged and took their leave.

Janey looked at him, her mouth wobbling. ‘I keep worrying what he’s going to do next.’

‘Your father?’

‘Him and his policeman friend. My dad does just what
he
tells him to.’

He noticed how she almost spat out the word ‘policeman’ and didn’t name him, and wondered who this fellow was, why she hated him so much. ‘Whatever it is, we’ll cope.’

‘I’m not your responsibility, though I’m grateful for your help.’

‘I have a lot of time on my hands at present and it’s good to do something to help others. Leave it to me. Consider me your older brother.’ He saw by her quick nod that she’d understood the implications of this image, that he wasn’t interested in her sexually. She was smart and very mature for her age, had probably had to grow up fast in the past year and that must have been hard. But he’d never been attracted to much younger women.

Well, he’d had a hard year too, so he could sympathise. His freedom had vanished, and with it his whole way of life, the career he loved. His brother said he’d had a prolonged adolescence doing a job like that. Kieran smiled as he went back down the stairs. If so, he’d enjoyed every minute of it.

Soon after he returned to his own flat, Kieran saw Nicole arrive. He unlocked her half of the garage and stood watching as she drove her car inside. It had four new tyres and they gave off that new rubber smell. He lingered to chat to her.

‘I must pay you rent for this garage,’ she said. ‘I can’t take advantage of your kindness.’

He suddenly had an idea. ‘I’d rather you paid me in kind.’

She became instantly wary.

He tutted at her and twirled an imaginary moustache. ‘Aha, my proud beauty!’ But he couldn’t keep it up and when he laughed, she joined in.

‘Don’t jump to conclusions, Nicole. I’m no danger to any woman at the moment, can hardly get around let alone play the seducer.’

She blushed a vivid red. ‘Sorry.’

He gestured towards the flats. ‘What I meant was, one of my tenants is a single mother, only eighteen, and she needs to return a printer to her father. They’re pretending she stole it. The poor girl can’t afford to pay a courier and she has no car of her own, so how they can claim she got there to steal it, I don’t know. I said I’d see to returning it, but if truth be told, I’m
not quite fit to drive yet – though I’m getting there. It’s only twenty miles away in Swindon …?’ He left the question hanging in the air and waited.

‘I’m happy to do that.’ She frowned at him. ‘It seems a strange thing for parents to do. Can’t the father come and pick it up himself if he needs it?’

‘I’ll explain as we drive. When would be convenient for you? I can go anytime.’

‘How about tomorrow morning, about eleven?’

‘I’ll check that someone will be in – no, on second thoughts, I think it might be better to take them by surprise. People are usually in on Sundays, after all.’

‘Whatever.’ She glanced down at her watch. ‘I have to go. I’ll pick you up on Sunday, then.’

‘Great. I’ll be waiting.’

He watched her walk up the street towards her flat, trim and neat, moving briskly. Nice woman. He found her wholesome appearance attractive. He’d never gone for glamorous women, who often spent more time thinking about their appearance than living a life. Even when he was quite well known and meeting celebrities galore, he’d cared more about intelligence and a caring attitude, the mental equipment of a decent person.

Yes, he really liked Nicole. Funny how quickly you could tell. Pity she was only just separated. Too soon to ask her out for a proper date. That thought made him pause, then smile slowly. He must be getting better. It was the first time he’d been attracted to a woman since the accident.

Still, he could perhaps become her friend, as a start. It’d be good to make a few friends. His brother was
always so damned busy making money that Kieran didn’t like to trouble him. And the journalists Kieran had hung out with in London rarely had the time to come down to Wiltshire to see him, though one or two emailed him now and then.

Winifred walked across to her new friend Hazel’s house, wrapping a woollen scarf tightly round her neck and taking her umbrella because it looked like rain. The house was only three streets away, on the other side of the park, and she enjoyed the stroll. Usually she only went out to the shops. She really should do more walking for pleasure. No wonder she tired so easily these days. Use it or lose it, they said.

She felt a bit nervous as she knocked on the door, because they’d had to postpone the meeting. What if Hazel didn’t really want to see her again? But she needn’t have worried. Hazel was as warm and friendly as before and they spent a pleasant couple of hours getting to know one another better.

‘I found out about the computer classes,’ Hazel said after a while, ‘and booked us two places. They’re specially for oldies, as I thought, and are going to be held at the library, in that big side room.’

‘I shall look forward to them. Though I’m a bit nervous about computers, I must admit.’

‘So am I.’

It began to rain as Winifred walked home, getting steadily heavier, with a wind blowing it sideways, so that she had to hold on tightly to her umbrella.

To her dismay, her nephew was just arriving at her house. He didn’t see her and she ducked quickly back into the little path between the two houses, watching as he took out his key and tried to fit it in the lock.

She enjoyed his surprise when he found it didn’t fit. He bent to look closely at the new lock, muttering something that could only be a curse from the expression on his face.

He went to peer into a window, but she always kept the curtains drawn in the front room. When he went round to the rear of the house, she moved further back down the path till she could see him again through the slats of the trellis. He was feeling around for a spare key – as if she was stupid enough to leave one under a flowerpot!

In the end he got into his car and drove away, scowling.

By that time she was soaking wet, so she hurried into the house and changed her clothes, making herself a cup of drinking chocolate and soon feeling warm again.

She wondered if Bradley would try to see her once more before he went away. Or send that whip-thin caricature of a woman round to speak to her. Either way, he wasn’t coming inside her house again. She loathed disloyalty and cheating.

But she felt a bit nervous at the prospect of telling him to his face that he no longer held power of attorney on
her behalf, let alone that she’d changed her will. She was afraid he might try to bully her or trick her in some way. He’d spoken so scornfully about her to his girlfriend.

That evening Paul turned up to see his mother.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked as Nicole let him in. ‘Only your car isn’t there. If I hadn’t seen your light on, I’d have thought you were out.’

‘Of course I’m all right. Why do you ask?’

He hesitated.

‘It’s something to do with William, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. He’s been boasting that he’s got his own back on you and saying that if you don’t do what he wants next time, he’ll give you another demonstration of why you should.’

She closed her eyes and prayed to say the right thing, because she didn’t want to lose this son as well. She decided on the simple truth. ‘Someone slashed all my tyres yesterday.’

Paul’s shoulders sagged and he looked at her in dismay. ‘Is that why your car isn’t here? Is it being repaired?’

‘No. I’ve got the new tyres on it but I’ve found myself a garage, so I keep it locked up now. I’d guessed it was William, though.’

‘He’s very chancy lately. I try to keep out of his way.’

‘Was that why you stayed in your room so much? I thought you were avoiding me.’

He looked startled. ‘No! It’s just – if he doesn’t see me, then he doesn’t do things on the spur of the moment.’

‘He used to hit you?’

Paul shrugged.

‘I’m sorry. I should have realised, helped you more. Why didn’t you
tell
me?’

‘What could you have done? He’s been body building and weight training, so he’s stronger than Dad now, could wipe the floor with any of us – and he knows it.’

She sighed, feeling guilty, but Paul was right. She’d found out for herself that she couldn’t do anything with William now. ‘Have you had some tea?’

‘Sandwiches.’

‘I’ve got some of my hearty soup, if you’d like a bowl.’

‘I love your soup. And have you some grated cheese to put on it?’

‘Of course. Is there any other way to eat my soup? Take your coat off. It’s soaking.’

‘It’s waterproof so I’m dry underneath.’

Paul seemed to enjoy having her fuss over him and ate up the rest of the soup, which she’d intended to have for her tea the next day. But she didn’t mind that. She’d always felt closer to her younger son than to William, who’d been a surly child, and maybe she was building bridges with Paul now, at least.

There was a knock on the front door and when his father didn’t seem to notice, William got up to answer it. He saw the police and tried to slam the door in their faces, but the burly officer standing nearest to him thrust it back with one meaty hand while grabbing him with the other.

‘Dad!’ William yelled at the top of his voice. ‘The police are hurting me.’

‘Don’t tell lies!’ The policeman shook him hard and
shoved him down the hall towards the room where the light was on and the television blaring.

By that time Sam had got to his feet and was looking at them with a bewildered expression on his face, like a man half lost in a dream.

‘Mr Gainsford?’

‘Er … yes. Could you let go of my son, please?’

‘If I do, I’m afraid he’ll try to run away.’

‘I won’t, Dad.’

‘Let him go, please. He won’t—’

As soon as the hand left his shoulder William took off for the French windows and would have got out if the window hadn’t been locked. The policeman followed him across the room, sending his father staggering back as he passed.

‘They attacked you as well, Dad!’ William yelled. ‘Tell them to stop.’

But his father was now fully alert and shook his head. ‘They didn’t attack either of us, William. Stop pretending. Why did you try to run away?’

‘The police keep telling lies about me. I’m frightened.’ He tried to look frightened but when the second policeman grinned openly at that, he guessed he’d not succeeded.

‘Sit down, please, lad.’

When he didn’t move, the officer thrust him on to the sofa next to his father and went to stand behind him. His father looked at the other man, who was standing in front of them, but didn’t say anything.

‘We’re here tonight, Mr Gainsford, because your wife’s car had its tyres slashed. It happened yesterday evening and a lad answering to your son’s description was seen running away.’

‘Was he identified as my son?’

‘It was too dark to be sure.’

‘I don’t know why you think William would slash his own mother’s tyres. It’s a ridiculous idea.’

‘Because he threatened at the library to get back at her.’

Sam looked at William in shock. ‘Did you go to the library? You know you’re not to disturb her when she’s working.’

‘I needed some money.’

‘I gave you some.’

‘I spent it. Besides, I wanted her to come home again. The place is a mess without her. It’s her
job
to look after us.’

‘That’s an outdated idea for a lad of your age,’ one of the officers said. ‘Anyway, sir, we’d like to question your son about the incident and we’d prefer to do it at the station, so perhaps you could accompany him there?’

‘Now?’

‘Yes.’

William watched angrily as his dad meekly stood up, scribbled a note for Paul and got ready to go out. He wasn’t going to be weak like his father when
he
left school. And he wasn’t going to stay around in this house once he had money of his own, either. No wonder England was going down the tube. Softies like his dad were
giving away
their masculinity as well as their country. His new friends had explained it all to him.

Well, the police would get nothing out of him. Let them prove he slashed the tyres if they could, which he doubted. He’d made certain there was no one around to see him when he did it.

He wasn’t stupid like his dad and brother.

And his mother was going to regret a few things. What sort of woman dobbed in her own son to the police without proof?

When Paul got home, he found the lights on but no one there. He didn’t see the note on the kitchen table at first, but when he did, he read it with a sinking heart. William was going to be even harder to deal with now.

After thinking about it for a few minutes, he rang his mother and told her what had happened.

‘You should be double careful now, Mum.’

‘I’ll be all right.’

But he heard the doubt in her voice.

The next day after school he bought himself a pair of much sturdier bolts and fitted them to the inside of his bedroom door. It made him feel a bit safer – but not totally safe, not as long as William was going feral.

Late on Sunday morning, Nicole drove Kieran over to Swindon to leave the printer at Janey’s parents’ house. No one was home the first time, so they went for a coffee then tried again. This time there was a car parked in the drive.

‘In view of what I’ve told you, will you come to the door with me?’ he asked. ‘I’d prefer to have a witness to this. In fact, could you take a photo of me handing over the printer? And if you could bear it, would you pretend to be my girlfriend, then he can’t accuse me of being involved with Janey?’

‘Good thinking. Of course I will.’

He got out the camera, showed her how to work it and then led the way to the front door.

A very overweight man answered it. ‘Yes?’

‘Mr Dobson?’

‘Go away. I’m not buying anything.’

‘I’m not selling anything,’ Kieran began.

‘I don’t care why you’re here. Go and pester someone else.’ He tried to close the door on them.

Kieran tried to hold it open but the other man was stronger. As it began to close, he yelled, ‘I’ve brought back the printer.’

The door stopped moving but the man scowled at him as if this was unwelcome news, so Kieran said, ‘You asked for it to be returned, didn’t you?’

‘Where’s Janey? Why hasn’t
she
brought it back?’

‘She’s not got a car and she has a baby to look after.’

‘Are you Janey’s new fancy man, running errands for her like this?’

Kieran was glaring at him so furiously that Nicole took over. ‘What an insulting thing to say! You don’t know your own daughter if you think she’s like that. Darling, just give him the printer and let’s go.’

Dobson ignored her. ‘She’s the sort who managed to get a bastard into her belly, isn’t she? There’s only one way to do that that I know of and you don’t manage it by yourself.’

‘She was forced,’ Kieran said.

‘My friend’s a high-level policeman and he said they all claim that.’

‘Well, we believe her. And as she lives in the flat above me – us – I can assure you she’s not getting up to any mischief now,’ Kieran told him.

A disbelieving snort was his only answer.

‘You go and get the printer, darling,’ Nicole said. As he moved away, she turned back to Dobson. ‘Not only do my partner and I think very highly of your daughter, so do her social worker and health visitor.’

‘She always was a good liar. I never managed to beat that out of her.’

Nicole felt sickened by the relish in his voice as he said this. Janey was a slender girl and he was a large man. She’d have had no chance against him.

Kieran limped back from the car with the printer and cartridge, dumped them on the step and took out a piece of paper. ‘Could you sign this, please?’

‘What is it?’

‘It says you’ve received the printer and cartridge.’

Dobson took the piece of paper, screwed it up and threw it away. ‘Stuff your piece of paper! And this is what I think of computers.’ Grinning he kicked the box containing the printer and cartridge off the doorstep, then stamped on the contents hard several times.

Even though she was disgusted by this act of spite, Nicole raised the camera and took a couple of photos of Dobson in the very act of destruction.

With a growl of anger the man turned on her, arm outstretched to grab the camera. Nicole knocked the arm away and Kieran pulled her behind him just as another large man turned in at the gate.

‘Afternoon, Lionel. Something wrong?’

Dobson stopped trying to snatch the phone. ‘They’re photographing me without my permission.’ He turned to Kieran. ‘This is the friend I told you about. He’s a policeman.’

The newcomer looked at them, eyes narrowed, then stared down at the mess of broken printer. ‘What’s this about?’

Kieran answered him. ‘We brought back the printer and cartridge Dobson claimed Janey stole – though she couldn’t possibly have done that because she hasn’t got a car and wasn’t out of town on the day the computer was picked up. He not only refused to sign a paper saying he’d received them from us, but deliberately smashed them. I took a photo of him doing it in case he ever suggests I did that.’

Dobson’s friend looked down at the box with the smashed printer in it and said mildly, ‘Bit of a waste that, Lionel. Just because you’re mad at the little bitch, no need to waste a good printer. I could have used that for my son.’

‘Sorry, Gary. I never thought. I’d have got the computer back too, only the wife had promised some interfering social worker to let Janey have a chance at studying and she didn’t want to go back on her word. But she never promised her the printer. As if the little bitch will ever make good of herself, anyway! She was born a lying slut, that one was, and lazy with it.’

The two men turned and went into the house, completely ignoring Kieran and Nicole, who exchanged disgusted glances as they walked back to the car.

Kieran let out a sigh of relief as he eased himself into the passenger seat, lifting his bad leg up with his left hand because it was less painful that way. ‘I’m going to find out who the other guy is. I’ve got his car number and his name’s Gary. I’ve still got friends who’ll help me find out. I doubt he’s a high-ranking policeman, though, because I
know most of the local hierarchy. He can’t be more than a sergeant or I’d have run into him before.’ He winced as he moved to fasten the seatbelt.