Survival of Thomas Ford, The (10 page)

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Authors: John A. A. Logan

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Literary, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Murder, #Literary Fiction, #Psychological, #Thrillers

BOOK: Survival of Thomas Ford, The
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“Do you want coffee or tea?” said Thomas.

“Aye, thanks, a coffee would be nice.”

Thomas was standing in the kitchen, getting the spoon into the coffee jar, when the full strangeness of Lorna’s presence in the house started to pick at the edge of his brain with a paranoid surge.

“You got my address in the phone book then, Lorna?” Thomas called loudly enough so she would hear in the living-room.

“Aye. I knew you were home. I saw on the news that they’d let you go home.”

“Right.”

“Are you sure it’s not too weird Thomas? Me turning up? I could go if you fancy being alone.”

Thomas took the coffee through to the living room. When he handed her the mug Lorna saw that his hand was shaking.

“I never used to be nervous, Lorna. Now I feel like I’m just one big, long nerve, waiting for the next thing to set me off.”

Lorna smiled and stared up at him.

“And now I’m setting you off?” she said.

“Maybe. A bit.”

He sat down again. He had made no drink for himself. He picked at the edge of the brown chair’s thick arm.

“Thomas, there is actually a serious reason for me coming round here like this. I know a lot of people in the town. I suppose it’s a city now, but I’ve lived here all my life and I still think of it as a town. Well, I know a lot of people. I hear a lot of things. And, well, I’ve become privy to some information very recently. Only last night in fact.”

Thomas blinked and licked his lips. He felt his attention wandering. He felt strongly that the girl was leading up to something significant, but equally he felt his attention petering out, making everything in the room seem vague. He stopped picking at the material on the chair arm. He lifted his hand to his forehead.

“Lorna, sorry. The thing is, I find it hard to concentrate lately. My mind must be all over the place. Go on though. Information?”

“Aye. And as soon as I, like, got this information, I realised that it would be really valuable, not just to one party but to two parties. And you’re one of those parties Thomas. I’ve actually just come from a meeting with the other party, where I sort of tested the ground like, but without actually divulging the information.”

Thomas had an overwhelming desire to laugh out loud.

“Aye,” he said. “Right Lorna. Information eh?”

Lorna sipped coffee. She nodded.

“Aye Thomas.”

She looked around the living room.

“You know, Thomas, you have a really nice house here eh? You must have had a nice life. That wall-paper is really lovely by the way. Was it your wife that chose that?”

Thomas nodded.

“Anyway, Thomas, you have this house and, sorry Thomas, what do you do for work?”

“I’m an artist, an illustrator.”

“Really? Aye well, there you go eh? And the other party who would love to have this information I’m on about, he has a nice life too eh? A nice big house too.”

Thomas blinked and frowned.

“See Thomas, I’m fucked off with this cleaning job up at the hospital. I feel like I could be doing something better, you know?”

“Is it blackmail you’re talking about then, Lorna?”

She raised her eyebrows. Thomas noted that her eyebrows were each a thin line, possibly only consisting of make-up.

“Blackmail? Fuck’s sake Thomas, no. I’m talking about the independent brokering of information. It would only be blackmail if I was saying this to the party that gave me the important information. But I’m no saying anything to that party. No, I told you. I’m taking this important information and I’m approaching you and a third party, who I know this information would be of value to.”

Thomas blinked twice.

“But what’s the information, Lorna? I mean, I might be a bit mental after the crash, but I don’t understand all this.”

Lorna slapped her right leg. Thomas looked at the thick thigh.

“That’s why this is difficult, Thomas. I can’t tell you what the information is, at least I haven’t thought of the right way to tell you what it is, without actually telling you it, if you know what I mean.”

Thomas smelt something in the air. It could be body odour or it could be her breath.

“Right,” she said. “Sorry Thomas. I know I’m going to have to be more direct. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be doing it now.”

“Well, like I say, Thomas, I’m fed up with that cleaning job. I’m looking obviously to, eh, profit from this exchange of information.”

Lorna looked around the living room again, lingering on the patio doors.

“Aye.” She nodded. “Financially Thomas.”

Thomas leaned back in the lonely brown chair. He closed his eyes. He heard Lorna breathe out air.

“I know the lad who was driving the car that caused your crash, Thomas. That killed your wife.”

Thomas opened his eyes.

“I only found out last night Thomas, like I said. I could have kept quiet, or I could have gone to the police eh? But…I’m fucked off with my life Thomas, you see? I want something out of this eh?”

Thomas leaned forward and rested his palms on his knees. He swallowed.

“Who is he?” he said.

Lorna sneered and laughed loudly. To Thomas it felt like someone had just run a cheese grater across his soul.

“Oh aye, Thomas. I’m just going to tell you eh? Fuck’s sake.”

Thomas raised his hands and used them to hold his head. Without warning, the pain shot through his chest. Thomas moaned and bent double. He let himself slide to the carpet, onto his knees.

“Thomas!”

He rolled onto his side. It was just like some lion or starved tiger, biting his heart. Lorna stood over him and watched veins rise to the suface of Thomas’ neck and forehead.

“Do you need an ambulance?” she said.

But she didn’t move towards the phone. She sat back down again and bit her lip. For a minute she watched Thomas writhe and sweat on the floor. Then she stood again.

“Thomas! Thomas! Do you feel any better?”

She walked towards his huddled shape. She leaned over and placed a hand on Thomas’ shoulder.

“Breathe deeply Thomas.”

She had heard the nurses telling people that in ITU. Sometimes it worked.

“Just keep breathing deeply. I’ll get you a drink of water.”

She ran into the kitchen. Her boots clopped on the kitchen floor. She found a cupboard full of glasses. She stared at all the different-sized glasses. She pulled out what looked like a half-pint glass. She ran water from the tap into it. When she got back to the living-room Thomas was lying face-down on the carpet.

“Thomas? Do you feel better? Here, drink this.”

But he wouldn’t raise his face from the thick carpet. Lorna waited a few seconds, then sat back on the sofa, the water in her hand. She sniffed and took a sip. Out the patio window, there was a view of a beautiful garden. Lorna had never sat in a house before, as a guest, with a garden like that. She had cleaned some nice houses, but that was different. Thomas grunted from the floor and Lorna was surprised. She had forgotten he was there, as she stared out through the glass at the pink stones arranged in a circle far down the garden. A wee brown bird was pecking at something, its thin legs planted solidly on one of the pink stones. Thomas rolled over onto his back.

“Do you want a drink of water, Thomas?”

She saw him shake his head. She raised the glass to her lips and took another sip. Sitting in this big house was like being insulated. If Thomas and his poor wife had stayed here in the house they would have been alright. It was only out there, in the world, on that road, that they had run into Jimmy. Lorna nodded to herself, feeling the rhythm ease tension from her neck. The wee brown bird was hopping along the garden now, towards the patio window. It wasn’t a worm in its mouth. Lorna couldn’t tell what it had there. The bird stopped just short of the window glass. It stared in at Thomas.

“Maybe you should stay in here forever, Thomas eh? It’s dangerous out there. Maybe I should stay in here with you.”

“I get these wild pains in my chest now, Lorna. It’s like some big fucking beast has hold of my chest and is biting me there, chewing. It passes though.”

“Did the doctors say you were alright, to come home like that? You’ve got to watch them Thomas. I see how they treat folk. They’re bastards for wanting the wards cleared of folk, especially ITU. You’re lucky you made it all the way home. Some old ones only make it as far as the first roundabout.”

“They say it’s in my head. Radthammon, the cardiologist, he just wants me to see a psychiatrist.”

“Radthammon, he’s a prick Thomas. He only cares about his fees and this new house he’s getting built.”

“New house?”

“Aye. Up in the hills. A beautiful view.”

Lorna’s mind froze for a second. She waited for Thomas to ask how she knew about the view. Jimmy had told her about the site. Then she realised it was alright, she could say it was gossip she’d heard at the hospital, or Radthammon himself boasting. Thomas lurched sideways and got up onto his knees. His face had a wounded expression, like a footballer who’d just been fouled. Lorna held out the glass of water to him. He took it and gave her a fast, hard look. Then he was clambering back up into the brown chair. He flopped back there and sipped the water.

“Do you want me to get you an ambulance Thomas? I would have done, but I wanted to give you the chance like, to right yourself. I know you won’t be wanting to end up back there if you can help it.”

“I’m alright. It’s maybe all in my head like they say.”

“Anyone would be driven mental by what’s happened to you, Thomas. I’m no saying you are mental like. But no-one would blame you.”

She watched him sip the water.

“What do you illustrate?” she asked.

“I’ve done all sorts. Children’s books, graphic novels.”

“Aye?”

Jimmy loved graphic novels and had tried to show her some. Maybe Mr Ford had done some of the drawings that Jimmy stared at.

“I liked drawing in school,” she said. “Art.”

“My wife, Lea, liked scupture and carving more. What’s his name Lorna?”

She grinned.

“I went somewhere else today Thomas, like I said, before I came here. I went to the lad’s father. He has a business in the city. So I let him know something was up, without giving away too much. I think what you’d say is, I’m open to bids now for the information. From his dad to keep me quiet. From you to tell. See?”

Lorna shrugged. She looked out the window again at the bird. It was staring back in at her, like it could read her thoughts.

“You must think I’m a right bastard, Thomas. But I just need to make the most of the opportunity.”

“Bids,” said Thomas. “Did the boy’s father make a bid then?”

“I didn’t tell him hardly anything, Thomas. He probably got left thinking I was mental. I just told him there was something he would want to know. That’s all.”

Thomas finished the water in a gulp.

“I could tell the police what you’re up to,” he said.

“I know,” she said wistfully, staring at the bird’s eyes through the glass.

Thomas shook his head and looked down.

“What kind of bid?” he said.

She blinked. She gnawed at her lower lip. Then she said,

“I’d take this house. Or if you let me move in and maybe marry me later. Well, you’d definitely have to marry me, or pass the house to me legally otherwise. The boy’s dad’s rich as fuck you see. He can bid that high and higher, without noticing. But I don’t like the dad, or even the boy much. I like you, Thomas. We could do business that way. Then you wouldn’t have to be alone here eh? You could keep drawing, and I’d just stay in and sit here and look out at the garden and the birds.”

Chapter Eighteen
 

Robert recognised the four hard raps at the front door. His mum was out. The usual dread at hearing Jimmy there was absent. Robert almost charged forwards, grabbed the handle, muscled the big door wide open.

“Robert,” said Jimmy.

He paused and stared for a moment at Robert’s narrowed eyes.

“Robert, eh, I’ve done something a bit mental, man.”

But Robert had grabbed Jimmy’s jacket lapels. He was pulling Jimmy into the house. Jimmy’s shoulder scraped along the edge of a brass mirror in the hallway, nearly knocking it off the wall.

“Lorna was round here!” shouted Robert. “You’ve told her you bastard! She knows about me! You told me not to tell my mum and now you’ve fucking told her!”

Jimmy was too shocked to fight back. His first response was a deep laugh, but it never reached his mouth because Robert punched it. Jimmy’s head jerked back and bounced off the wall. The hallway had gone almost completely black. Jimmy raised a hand, then felt his knees wobble.

The thumping sounds woke Jimmy up. He felt so thirsty. He started to open his eyes but a shooting pain went through his whole head. He swallowed and took several breaths, then made an effort to raise his head. He didn’t try to open his eyes this time. He got himself up onto an elbow, then the eyes seemed to pop open quite happily. Robert was four feet away, sitting on the stairs. He was punching regularly at the stair he was sitting on. He was looking down.

“No need to go fucking mental, Robert. We’ve got to stay focused eh?”

The equilibrium in Jimmy’s head vanished again. The elbow slid away and Jimmy hit his head on the carpeted floor. It hurt, even though the carpet felt soft and thick.

“You didn’t see Lorna,” said Robert. “She was round here, going on about it. I’m no going to jail for you, Jimmy. I couldn’t cope.”

Jimmy raised himself up again.

“Aye. I know,” he said. “I know. But you think I’m going to jail for this eh? No.”

“Why’d you fucking tell her then?” Robert screamed.

Jimmy looked at Robert’s tear-stained face.

“I don’t know man,” he said. “I was in bed with her.”

“So what?”

“I must have gone soft like.”

“Soft?”

“Aye. After shagging and that.”

Robert’s eyes seemed very wide open.

“Robert, you better calm down man, eh? I hope your mum’s no here.”

Robert’s head shook.

“Well, that’s one good thing then. Come on, give me a pull into the kitchen and put some coffee down me before she gets back eh?”

Robert shook his head again. He got up off the stairs and walked toward Jimmy. Jimmy flinched momentarily as Robert’s boots got level with his face. Robert leaned over and took hold of Jimmy’s elbow, helping him up.

“You hit me quite hard there, Robert.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s good to know you’ve got that in you. If we have to go after Ford and that.”

“What’s the point? Lorna knows now.”

“She won’t tell anyone.”

“You didn’t see her,” said Robert. “She looked like she could tell someone, Jimmy.”

“She knows I’d fucking kill her if she told anyone.”

Jack McCallum was sitting in his office. He tapped the side of his forehead regularly with the gold pen. He’d had to take several calls since the girl’s visit. Now he was trying to replay in his mind exactly what she had said to him. How had she worded it? Something terrible that Jimmy had done. Something that would mean a lot of trouble. Trust Jimmy to be screwing a blackmailer and not even have the sense to keep his mouth shut about whatever this was. There was something wrong with the boy right enough. The girl was attractive though, nice thick thighs. Jack imagined having them wrapped round him, here in the office, on some quiet afternoon. Maybe after the blackmail he could still employ her. Mind you, if she had something that was really worth paying for, it could all get expensive. Not too expensive though surely, a girl like that, she’d be happy to get crumbs maybe. Jack stopped tapping his head. He remembered that hungry look in Lorna’s eyes.

He picked up the phone.

“Cathy, is Jimmy there?”

“No Jack. Is everything alright?”

“Aye, of course. Do you know where he is?”

“He said he was going round to Robert’s house.”

“Right. See you later love.”

“Jack…”

Jack started to put the phone down, then lifted it again.

“Cathy? What’s that Robert’s address?”

“I’m not sure Jack.”

“Look Cathy, you’ll still have it somewhere from when you sent the Christmas cards out. Find it and call me back.”

Robert was dropping three sugar cubes into Jimmy’s coffee. Jimmy was sitting at the kitchen table. He kept blinking. It was like the centre of himself had been displaced.

“That’s some punch you’ve got eh Robert? Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Robert handed Jimmy the mug. Jimmy’s hand was shaking.

“I’ll put it on the table just now,” said Robert. “Look, Jimmy, what if Lorna’s at the cops right now, grassing?”

Jimmy frowned.

“Why would she do that? I admit it was mental, telling her, but she wouldn’t have a reason to go to the cops.”

“She told me she didn’t know what she was going to do.”

“That’s just talk,” said Jimmy. “Everyone talks shite most of the time, Robert. Otherwise they’d have fuck all to say.”

Jimmy raised the mug but his hand was still shaking. The coffee splashed on the table.

“You’ve done some job on me here, Robert. Now, if you’re really worried about Lorna you should just get hold of her and do the same eh?”

“How?”

“I thought you didn’t want her talking. Slam her in the head, Robert, and she won’t be talking or grassing on anyone.”

“She’s your girlfriend.”

“Up to a point,” said Jimmy.

He managed to bring the mug to his lips. His jaw hurt when he opened it.

“I didn’t think she was a grass,” said Jimmy. “It changes my feelings.”

“We don’t know she grassed yet.”

“She came here and grassed to you.”

“That wasn’t pure grassing. She knew I already knew. We don’t know she’s done any real grassing yet.”

“If she has, she’s dead.”

“If she has, it’ll be too late, Jimmy.”

“You mean we should kill her before she can grass?”

Robert looked down. He saw that one of his boots was unlaced. He stooped over to tie it. He had the first lace in a circle like a rabbit snare when Jimmy’s boot came up between Robert’s legs and connected hard with his balls. Robert exhaled with a moan and sank to the floor.

“Not so hard now eh cunt?” said Jimmy.

He drew his boot back and kicked in deftly against Robert’s rib-cage. A sad little sigh of air got expelled from Robert’s mouth. Jimmy kicked again, trying to find the same spot, but this time there was no exhalation. Robert must be empty now. Four hard raps came at the front door and Jimmy’s boot froze in the middle of a kick to the head.

“Who’s that?” said Jimmy. “Eh cunt, who will that be?”

Robert made no answer. Jimmy stamped on his leg.

“Cunt!”

Jimmy sat back down in the kitchen chair. He felt dizzy. The door was knocked at again, down at the other end of the hall. Jimmy leaned back in his chair, stared down the hall. The silhouetted head at the frosted glass seemed familiar somehow.

Jack McCallum gave another series of ratatats on the door. He waited a few seconds then walked around the side of the house. There was a little grey gate leading to the garden. Jack flipped the catch and looked at the neat hedges. He closed the gate quietly behind him and made his way along the pebble-dashed wall to the kitchen window. He hated pebble-dashing. No McCallum Home would ever have pebble-dashing. It scraped the edge of his hand as he poked his face against the kitchen window. He saw the back of his son’s head. The boy was sitting in a chair, leaning back dangerously. Jack saw something move on the floor, a dog maybe. He walked along to the back door and turned the handle. The door opened and he shoved it in. He entered the kitchen with a loud sniff. Jimmy turned a set of shocked eyes his way. It wasn’t a dog on the floor. It was a lad. It looked like Robert Ferguson.

Jack shook his head.

“See, Jimmy, you can’t get along with anybody eh? Doesn’t matter if it’s at my building site or in this poor boy’s house. You just bring a squirt of trouble wherever you go. Have you hurt this lad? Has he hurt you lad?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” said Jimmy.

“Have I no a right to come and see my own boy, check what he’s been up to? It looks like you need checking on, Jimmy. Anyway, that lassie Lorna was round at my office today. She says she knows something about you, Jimmy. She says you’ve got yourself mixed up in something serious.”

“Lorna?”

“So I thought I’d come and see you and let you tell me what she’s on about, ok lad? No in front of Robert of course. Sorry to come in like this, Robert, but you know how it is. Families and that. Hope you feel better, son.”

Jack grabbed the collar of Jimmy’s leather jacket. He twisted and pulled. Jimmy felt the dizziness intensify as Jack pulled him out of the chair, then out of the kitchen. Jack let the side of Jimmy’s face scrape along the pebble-dashed wall, then he battered Jimmy’s head against the grey garden gate. He pulled Jimmy’s head back then rammed it against the gate again. The second time the flip-catch split from the wood and the gate opened. Jack pulled his son through the gate and along the side of the house, through the front garden and onto the pavement.

Jack kept Jimmy bent over, his face not far from the concrete. He searched in his pocket for the keys to the Subaru. An old man with a stick was walking past slowly. The man turned red, wet eyes on Jimmy, then on Jack. Jack stared back hard. The old man shook his head and walked on.

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