Chapter 24
‘So,’ Philippa says. ‘Tell me.’
She and Eve are back in the hospital cafeteria, although neither can face any more of the food and drink on offer. Around them, at nearby tables, patients’ relatives and friends sit in near silence. A tinny sound system is playing an ABBA medley at a volume just high enough to be annoying.
‘Tom feels worse about things than he should,’ Eve tells her. ‘He’s the victim of an organised crime network which knows exactly which buttons to press with kids like him.’
Philippa regards her quizzically. ‘How do you know about stuff like this? If you don’t mind me asking.’
Eve takes her glasses off and starts to polish them on a paper napkin. ‘I used to work in a liaison role with the police. Home Office. That sort of thing.’
‘In other words, don’t ask.’
Eve replaces her glasses, blinks and smiles. ‘We’ve both got our witchcraft.’
Philippa nods. ‘I was right, though? About it being a drugs thing?’
‘Yes, you were right. In the last few years, small country towns like this have been targeted by drugs gangs looking to expand their customer base. They use kids like Tom to transport drugs and weapons from London, Manchester and other big cities, and they use them to store the stuff locally. The kids often don’t know that they’re being used, or how dangerous these people are. ’
Above their heads, a strip light begins to flicker.
From behind the food counter, an obese man walks slowly towards their table, carrying a broom.
When he reaches it, he jabs vaguely at the light with the broom handle.
Nothing happens. The light continues to flicker.
The man glances at Eve and Philippa, shrugs, and walks slowly back to the food counter.
‘He looks like a catch,’ Eve says.
‘I know! Why look further?’ Philippa’s smile fades. ‘So what happened?’
‘There was a girl Tom liked. Demi?’
‘Demelza Whitton, yes.’
‘You know her?’
‘Yes. Nice enough kid. Brother’s a piece of work, though.’
‘The brother being Dill Whitton?’
Philippa nods. ‘Bikes, booze, builders’ tools… You name it, he’s nicked it and been nicked for it. Not the sharpest pencil in the box, that boy.’
‘So I gather. He’s well out of his depth now.’
‘So where’s Tom come into it all?’
‘Tom likes Demi. He takes her to the pub up the road from you, the Four and Twenty Blackbirds. Dill goes to the Blackbirds too and clocks his sister with Tom. He also spots that Tom’s not exactly flush with cash and finds out from Demi that the café pay him next to nothing.’
Philippa shrugs. ‘No bugger ever goes in there. That’s why Tom likes it.’
‘Yeah, well. With Demi to impress, he needs something that pays better. At which exact point Dill introduces him to someone called Fin. Finbarr Williams. Ring any bells?’
‘No.’
‘Fin’s older. Thirty-odd. Mixed-race, very much a free spirit. Comes and goes on a vintage motorcycle.’
‘Ah yes. I’ve seen him around. No idea where he’s from, though.’
‘No one seems to know. But he’s around, and Tom’s impressed, and when Fin makes him an offer, Tom’s as ready as a ripe plum.
The job sounds easy. Take the train to London, meet a guy at Waterloo Station who’ll give him a backpack, get the train back to Cranborne, and deliver the backpack, unopened, to Fin.
All expenses paid in cash, and 200 smackers for Tom’s trouble. ’
‘Oh God,’ Philippa mutters.
‘You can see where this is going, can’t you?’
She nods despairingly.
‘So Tom does a couple of these runs, and the third time Fin asks him to store the backpack at his house for a few days – again, without looking inside. Tom’s nervous now, but it’s 500 quid this time, and he ends up saying yes again.
When it’s delivery time, Fin pays him and gives him a watch as a gift. The one you found in his room.’
‘The Rolex? I’ve got it here.’ She takes the watch from her bag. ‘Is it real?’
Eve examines the watch for a few moments.
‘No, it’s a fake. It might be very thinly gold-plated, but if you look at the dial, just below the six, it’s supposed to say Swiss Made.
Unfortunately, our faker isn’t a brilliant speller, and it reads Swiss Maid, which I think is a brand of yoghurt.
Fin probably buys these wholesale. Hands them out to all his runners and tells them they’re worth thousands.
It’s one more way of making the kids feel indebted to him. ’
‘So what happens next?’
‘Next is yesterday afternoon. We’re both out, and Tom’s by himself in the house.
A complete stranger turns up. Eastern European, Tom thinks.
He’s almost certainly been watching the place, waiting to get Tom alone.
So this guy gives Tom a supermarket bag with something heavy inside, wrapped in a dirty T-shirt.
It’s obviously a gun, and Tom’s terrified and refuses to have anything to do with it.
But the guy tells him he hasn’t got a choice.
He tells Tom that if he doesn’t hide the gun, you’ll be hurt. ’
‘Me?’ Philippa whispers, her face colourless beneath the flickering strip light.
‘You. So Tom takes the gun. By this time, he’s not thinking clearly.
All he knows is that he’s desperate to be done with this whole scene.
So instead of stashing the goods in his room, like he’s been ordered, he waits for the evening and takes the bag to the Blackbirds.
When he gets there, he finds Fin, as he hoped, but also Demi, and it’s clear that the two of them are now an item.
Fin’s got his arm around her, and the whole thing’s clearly a done deal.
At which point Tom totally loses it, flings the bag at Fin so that the gun spills out onto the floor of the pub, and screams at him to go fuck himself, and never contact him again. ’
‘Shit.’ Philippa’s forehead sinks onto her folded, tattooed arms. ‘Shit. I just wish he’d—’
‘I know,’ Eve says gently. ‘But they don’t, do they?’
Philippa gazes despairingly in front of her. ‘And the rest I know.’
‘The rest you know.’
‘It’s not going to end here, is it?’
‘No.’ Eve shakes her head. ‘Probably not.’
‘The nurse told me they’re keeping him in for observation for a couple more days. Do you think he’ll be safe there?’
‘He should be. Hospitals are pretty secure places. They’ll keep an eye on him.’
Philippa reaches across the cafeteria table and takes Eve’s hands in hers. ‘I’m really sorry you got dragged into this. I don’t know what I’d have done without you, I really don’t.’
Eve smiles. ‘It’s fine, honestly. I’m glad I was able to… you know.’
Philippa nods. ‘Can we just quickly go back up to the ward? I want to tell him that I know the whole story, and that everything’s OK… I mean, obviously everything isn’t OK, but—’
‘No more secrets?’
‘Exactly.’
I know all about this stuff. The drug routes.
The county lines. The organised crime groups.
It’s bad, it’s really bad, and the police frankly admit that they’re on the back foot.
I haven’t told Philippa the worst of it, which is that people like this Finbarr Williams are attack dogs.
They sink their teeth into these kids and they never, ever let go.
What he wants is a terrified, compliant Tom, and through him, he wants Philippa’s house.
A local base from which he can run his operation undisturbed.
It’s called cuckooing, and it’s one of the main ways drug gangs infiltrate communities.
I’ll tell Philippa this. I’ll tell her all of it.
But now’s not the time. Her son’s been stabbed, he’s still in danger, and she’s in pieces.
And I’m involved. I can’t leave her to face this alone.
In just over a week my life has been turned upside down.
Philippa and Tom, obviously. But also running into Jack again.
Is this why I came here? For a reckoning with my past?
A reckoning with who I used to be, and perhaps could become again?
Since waking this morning, I’ve barely given Oxana a thought.
She seems so distant. In every sense, so far away.