Chapter Twenty-One
Amy
The approach to Bristol took us along a wide muddy river flanked by rocky cliffs and overhung by an ornate bridge with stone towers. The houses were colourful, the civic buildings old and imposing, and there was very much a student vibe when we approached Priory Road.
Being in a police car, we did draw a few glances as we weaved along with the traffic.
“It’s right near here.” I was following Google Maps on my phone. “Where shall we park?”
“In this car, wherever we damn well want.” Mitch chuckled. “It’s quiet at this college, maybe lectures haven’t kicked out yet.”
“Mmm, maybe.” When we’d got closer to Bristol, a sense of uncertainty had crept over my skin. Had I been too hasty? Too ambitious? Too hopeful? Perhaps this building was quiet because there were no lectures today.
Oh well. We were here now.
And at least Mitch was with me. His presence gave me strength.
Mitch parked up beside a red postbox and an off-licence selling bargain booze. He killed the engine. “You okay, baby girl?” He squeezed my hand. “Having second thoughts?”
I shook my head. “This is something I need to do. And if we don’t see him, then I’ll go and find someone who can tell me what lectures he’s in and come back. I will find him now I’ve decided to.”
He smiled. “I like your determination.”
“It helps to have a wingman. Thank you.” I smiled up at him and saw my reflection in his dark sunglasses.
“I’ll always be here for you. I’ll always look after you.” He touched the tip of my nose with his index finger. “But you know that.”
I did know that, and it felt good.
“Right, this way.” He set off to the left toward a big Georgian building with pale stonework, tall sash windows, and surrounded by huge oak trees.
I trotted to catch him up then walked quickly to keep pace. There was something strange about being with a uniformed cop. We drew curious glances, and there was a fizz in the air when we walked past a group of youths clouded in the scent of weed.
Mitch took no notice.
We rounded the building and into a fresh trickle of students. A long pergola heavy with a leafy wisteria shielded a cobbled path from the sun. We walked along it, bees buzzing overhead.
“Officer.” What appeared to be a don nodded at Mitch. “Good day.”
Mitch gave a flick of his head in reply and carried on walking. “Can you see him?” He slowed and glanced left and right at a junction in the pergola.
“No.” My heart was thudding. Quickly I scanned the students around me.
Four girls to my right clutched bags and water bottles and were in tight conversation. A couple, arms looped around each other, ambled along. A student grappling with the lock on a bike. And one older guy sitting on his phone, talking loudly.
“No…I can’t,” I said. “See him, that is.”
“Up there?” Mitch gestured in the direction I hadn’t scoped out.
And then I saw him. In the distance.
Jeremy.
My brother.
My twin.
His hair was shorter and his shoulders broader. He wore a light-brown jacket that hung to his hips and jeans with a frayed rip in the knee. He turned away from me, back toward the road.
I clasped my hand to my chest and held in a gasp. “He’s there. That’s him.”
“What?” Mitch snapped his head in the direction I was staring. “That guy?”
“Yes, brown jacket, blond.”
“Come on.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me in the direction Jeremy was going.
We half walked, half ran. I worried about Mitch’s wound, but he didn’t seem to give it any consideration.
“He’s going out of sight.” I sped up. What if we lost him when I’d only just found him? “We’re going to lose him!”
“We won’t. Fuck.” Mitch released my hand and rushed forward. “Hey, Jeremy!” He shouted. “Jeremy Bailey. Stop right there.”
Jeremy whipped his head around.
Even from the distance I was at I could see his eyes widen and him take in a shocked breath. And then he turned, and ran, fast, around the corner.
“Little fucker.” Mitch snarled. And then he, too, was running, at speed, his boots slamming onto the ground with each long pace. “Get back here!”
I also made chase, though I was nowhere near as quick. Mitch had the speed of a lion chasing down prey.
Rounding the corner, I could see that Jeremy had escaped into a small staff-only car park. But it wasn’t an ideal escape by any means. There were high fences around the jumble of cars and a security barrier.
Mitch was close behind him. “Stop! Now!”
But Jeremy didn’t stop, at least not until he realized his mistake. And then he went crashing into the fence, fingers curled into the wire, and spun around. Frantically he glanced left and right, cornered, and when Mitch was only six feet away, he dashed forward, trying to get around him.
But it was no good. Mitch was bigger and faster and had more muscle to throw into the game. He grabbed Jeremy’s upper arm, spun him around, and smashed him up against the fence. The force of their bodies hitting it created a trembling rattle around the car park.
I gasped and rushed closer.
Mitch’s big body held Jeremy hostage with one arm twisted up his back, pinning him in place. He kicked Jeremy’s feet, each in turn, to widen his stance, putting him off balance.
“What you fucking running for?” Mitch snarled into his ear.
I came to a halt and, panting for air, stared at my brother’s screwed-up features.
He, too, was breathing fast. His eyes were closed, and he shucked his shoulders and twisted to try and rid himself of Mitch’s tight hold on him. “Get off me. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“So why are you running?” Mitch growled, “Innocent people don’t run.”
“I promise…I ain’t done…I’ll pay that tax, honest.”
“What tax?”
“Income. I know I had three letters, and I will pay it, soon as, okay.” He tried to shake Mitch off but to no avail. “Bar work doesn’t exactly pay much.”
“This isn’t about bloody tax,” Mitch said by his ear.
“It isn’t?” Jeremy opened his eyes. They were unseeing. He was scared and confused.
“No.” Mitch loosened his grip on him. “You gonna run again if I let you go?”
“No.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Mitch looked at me.
I nodded. I was ready.
“Good,” Mitch said. “’Cause there is someone here who wants to talk to you, and God help me, if you don’t talk to her, if I have to chase you down again, it won’t go well for you.”
“What? Who?”
Mitch released him, and Jeremy spun around in an instant, his back to the fence as though needing it for support. He glanced around, clearly assessing escape routes, and then his attention landed on me. His mouth fell open, and his eyes widened.
“Hi, Jeremy,” I said, emotion tightening my throat. “Been a while.”
“Amy!” He rubbed his right eye as if checking his sight wasn’t playing tricks on him. “I…what are you…?” He shook his head. “Who is…?”
“This is Mitch.” I gestured to Mitch who was still looming large next to Jeremy as though that alone would warn him not to try any funny business. “My…my boyfriend.”
“A cop…” Jeremy stepped closer to me.
“Does that matter?” I asked.
“No. Not at all.” His movements were quick, sharp, and then he was hugging me, holding me close and burying his face in my neck.
We were exactly the same height, always had been. I clung to him, his body familiar yet not, and breathed in the scent of cheap tangy body spray.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “I tried to find you, honestly I did.” He pulled back and gripped my shoulders. “It was the first thing I did, when I left, but I didn’t know where you’d gone or what name you were using and I…”
“You couldn’t have found me. I’d made sure I was invisible.”
He frowned and shook his head. “No, but I didn’t give up hope.” His eyes were sparkling with emotion. “And now you’ve found me.”
I dashed at a tear sliding down my own cheek. “It took a while for me to reach the point I wanted to. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He paused. “Nigel is dead, you know.”
“Yes, I do know, and I’m glad.”
“Me, too. He was a lunatic, and a hater, and his soul was twisted and warped.”
I nodded. That sounded about right.
“It got better, after he died, but it still wasn’t living, not for me at least.”
“I’m glad you got out.”
“Me too.” He dragged me into another hug. A desperate, urgent hold that told me we’d never be parted again for such a prolonged length of time.
“Did you really have to set your big bad police officer boyfriend on me?” He laughed, a tense sound.
“I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t run.” I shrugged and glanced at Mitch.
“Why did you run?” Mitch said with a scowl. “What are these tax troubles?”
“I’ve been doing cash-in-hand bar work, a lot, I’ve got bills to pay, but the Inland Revenue found out and started demanding tax. Money I don’t have because I needed it to live while I study.”
“And you thought a cop would…” Mitch folded his arms and huffed. “We’ve got better things to do.”
“I’m sure.” Jeremy took in Mitch’s size and the width of his shoulders. The uniform seemed to make him even bigger, more imposing than he already was. “And you’re…together? With my sister.”
“Yep.”
“Yes we are,” I said. “And my man was shot not long ago, so you shouldn’t have made him chase you.”
Mitch gave a what-does-that-matter grunt and straightened his shades.
“Sorry,” Jeremy said. “I didn’t know, did I.” He paused. “So where are you living?”
“Oxford. A kindly professor, a woman, picked me up that night I escaped The Commune of Light and took me there. I’ve been making a life for myself ever since. Got a job, a flat, friends…Mitch.”
“Good for you.” Jeremy took my hand. “I want to hear all about it. How about I get to you on my next day off? We can go for a drink, have a proper catch-up.”
“Why? You got somewhere to be now?” Mitch asked and glanced at his watch.
“Actually yeah, I start a shift at Stable Yard Bar in ten minutes.”
“Where’s that?” Mitch asked.
“Down by the waterfront.”
“Come on, we’ll give you a lift.” Mitch stepped up to me and took my hand. He gave my fingers a reassuring squeeze. “It will give you two the time to swap numbers.”