Chapter Eighteen #2
River didn’t sleep well, even after he’d fucked Newt and Newt had fucked him, which usually exhausted them both. Now Newt lay gently snoring, curled up against him while River’s mind sprinted in so many directions, he felt dizzy.
How could he help Newt? Could he go alone and speak to Phelan, ask him to reveal what had really happened?
Would it make any difference? What if the police didn’t believe him?
River could see how they might not and he could also see that Phelan might not want to make trouble for the man who’d been with him.
What if the guy with the knife didn’t have anything to do with the letters or the incident in Croatia?
River didn’t want Dila to have been his target but, in a way, he hoped she was because otherwise there was someone else trying to hurt him.
Why the fuck would anyone want to stab him or Dila!
Then again, Christian Slater had narrowly avoided being stabbed outside a London theatre.
His bodyguard had apparently borne the brunt of the attack.
Yet later, Slater had denied it had happened.
River had no idea whether it had or not.
And more selfishly, he wondered if Max was the only one who’d liked Medway Boys.
By tomorrow morning, he’d know. The studio would have invited professional critics to attend advance screenings but River wanted to know what the general public thought.
He’d not seen the finished film. He had no idea how it had been edited.
And what if his speech wasn’t perfect by the time he had to film Kaden’s Monster? Misha might have been reassured, but River knew he wasn’t there yet.
The following morning, Newt brought him breakfast in bed. Marmalade on toast, pieces of honeydew melon cut into star shapes and coffee. And there was a solitary snowdrop in a sherry glass, not that River had ever drunk sherry from it.
“What have I done to d…deserve this?”
Newt climbed in next to him and tapped on his phone. “River Lawson gives the performance of his life in Medway Boys. Will he ever be able to top this?”
River let out a choked laugh. “I’m doomed.”
“I’ve not read anything negative.” He handed River his phone. “If you struggle, I’ll read it to you. There were a few comments I liked. Specifically, about your outrageously brave bodyguard with the dashing looks who wore a superbly fitting suit and fought off an attacker with a yoyo.”
“Really?”
“No.”
“Oh.” River ate the toast as he read. It was a struggle, and he was slow, but he was getting there.
The comments about his performance were flattering. He was pleased for Misha and the crew that the film had been so well received.
River’s phone rang while he was still reading. He put it on speaker.
“Hello?”
“Mr Lawson?”
“Yes.”
Good morning, it’s DI Sutcliffe.”
“Morning.”
“We’ve been liaising with our colleagues over the arrest yesterday in Leicester Square. I understand you didn’t recognise the assailant.”
“No,” River said.
“Did Mr Jones?
“No,” Newt said.
“His name is William Young. He says he had nothing to do with the hate mail. He’s been detained under the Mental Health Act.
If it’s any consolation, we believe it was Dila Fox he was fixated on.
We know he had nothing to do with the incident in Croatia.
He was in hospital in London at the time.
I think you were just unlucky in this instance. ”
“And lucky not to be stabbed,” Newt said.
“Indeed.”
When the call ended, Newt stroked River’s hand. “Sort of good and bad, right?”
River nodded.
“Now you’re all sad again. Listen to this.” Newt read him a review from the Metro. “Did you notice the mention of an Oscar?”
River laughed. “Oscar Ben…nett. Lighting di…director.”
“Oh, was it? Listen to this then.”
River stopped him part way through. “Enough.”
“Happy now?”
“Yes. You make me happy.”
“I’m glad because you make me happy too.”
Newt’s phone rang. He looked at the number and frowned. “Hello?”
Newt hadn’t put it on speaker so River couldn’t hear what was being said, but he saw at once that it was bad news and guessed it was about Phelan. Newt had paled.
“And they won’t come?” Newt asked. “Right… Okay… Yes. I will. Tell him I’m coming.”
Newt tossed his phone down and started to get dressed. “Phelan… They don’t think he has long. My fucking family don’t want to go and see him. Too fucking painful, my arse! I can’t believe them. Phelan wants someone he knows with him. Is it too much to fucking ask?”
“No.” River got out of bed and pulled on his clothes.
“You don’t have to come,” Newt said. “I think I can trust you not to set fire to the place. Just don’t let anyone in.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Newt shot him a little smile and nodded.
River had offered to drive but Newt took the wheel. They made the journey to Mountford Hospice more quickly than they had the first time. River hoped they weren’t too late.
Newt signed in, followed by River, who had his mask in place, and they hurried to Phelan’s room. A nurse was in there with him. His eyes were closed and he was fighting to breathe, his chest rising and falling in spasmodic jerks.
“Your brother’s here now, Phelan,” she said and left the room.
Newt sat at his brother’s side and took hold of his hand. “Bloody hell, your hands are cold.” He wrapped his other hand around Phelan’s too and rubbed gently.
Phelan opened his eyes. “Newt?”
“I couldn’t let you do this on your own.”
River sat at the side of the room. It was painful to watch. River was torn between wanting it to end and hoping Newt had as much time with his brother as he needed.
“I was scared.” Phelan moaned quietly.
“I’m here now.” Newt took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, resting his head on the pillow next to Phelan’s.
“Did you see the photo I sent you yesterday?” He held his phone so Phelan could see. “Remember that open-top bus you took me on and it poured with rain? We got soaked, but we stayed in our seats.”
Phelan nodded and his lips curved in a smile.
River sat and listened as Newt talked and talked.
Phelan’s eyes closed and River didn’t know if he was conscious or not, but Newt kept telling him about things they’d done, the times Phelan had been good to him, the things Newt had bought with money Phelan had given him.
How much he hated cars. Sometimes Phelan had smiled.
If he didn’t count his father, and he hadn’t actually seen him after he’d fallen, River had never watched anyone die.
He didn’t really know Phelan, but it was still hard to witness a life ending. It made his heart ache for Newt.
Phelan’s breathing turned ragged and he looked straight at Newt. River had no idea how Newt was holding himself together because River was crying.
“Don’t be scared,” Newt said. “I’m here with you. And I love you. I forgive you. You were a good brother. Much better than Sean and I know you struggled with what you did. But I forgive you. I love you and I forgive you.” Newt was crying now.
Phelan’s breathing grew noisier with longer gaps.
Then silence.
“Oh God,” Newt gasped. He hugged Phelan to him and sobbed.
As they pulled through the gates to the house, River sighed with relief.
Thank fuck for the Aston’s navigation and cruise control.
He’d driven back and Newt had been silent at his side for most of the journey.
They’d not stopped to get anything to eat and River was starving.
He wondered if he’d manage to persuade Newt to eat some pasta.
They put the car in the garage and went into the house.
“Damn. We didn’t put the alarm on,” Newt said, as he reached the keypad. “I mean I didn’t put the alarm on. Sorry.”
“We were in a hurry.”
They hung up their coats and headed for the kitchen. An odd feeling swept over River, a sensation of something being out of place, though as he looked round, nothing seemed wrong.
“Are you okay?” Newt put his hand on River’s shoulder.
“Yes.”
“That’s far enough,” someone said behind them.
They both spun round. A man was pointing a gun at them.
“What the fuck?” Newt gasped.
“Barney?” River couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Please let that be a prop!
Newt stepped forward and Barney yelled, “Stop moving! Throw your phones on the floor.”
Fucking hell. River was struggling to think what to do. He just couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Whatever you’re thinking, you’ll never get away with it.” Newt edged towards River.
“You move again and I’ll shoot him,” Barney shouted.
River swallowed hard. Oh God.
“Do as I say! Phones on the floor.”
River tossed his phone down.
“You’re that guy from the film set,” Newt muttered. “I guess you didn’t have food poisoning.”
“Your fucking phone! Now!”
“I left it in the car. Want me to go and get it?”
River knew he was lying.
“No.” Barney stamped on River’s phone until it fell apart. “You shouldn’t have survived that fall. You definitely shouldn’t have got better.”
Well, now he knew. River swallowed hard. “Why did you sa…sabot…age the climb?”
“Why do you think?”
“I have no fucking idea,” River said. “What have I done to you?”
“Did you like my letters?”
“You sent them?” River knew it wasn’t good news that Barney was freely admitting it. He wasn’t going to leave them alive to tell anyone.
“Pity that weirdo at the premiere missed with the knife.” Barney sneered. “Would’ve saved me a job.”
“What the fuck, Barney? I’ve never done…anything to you.”
“You did to Harry.”
River frowned. “Harry Gardner?”
“I love him.”
Christ.
“Now I’ve seen the pair of you loved up, I know you’ll understand. You’re gay too.” He gave a short laugh. “I hadn’t guessed. Does Dila Fox know? Stop fucking moving,” he screamed at Newt who’d edged a little closer to Barney.
Shit, he’s crazy. “Okay, okay,” River said. “You love Harry. That’s g…great. I don’t understand what…that has to do…with you…holding a gun on us.” Though River suspected he did. What the hell were they going to do? He had zero ideas.
“Every role he wanted, you got. He was devastated. He had a chance at Kaden’s Monster and now he hasn’t. Well, he hadn’t. But when you’re not available… Tragedy for some, good fortune for others.”
“What are you going to do?” Newt asked. “Shoot both of us?”
“Well, duh.” Barney turned the gun on River and fired.