Chapter 9 #3
The family resettled in Eggleton, outside Grimsby, where Julia once again moved in with a publican.
Tony Devizes, the manager of the village’s British Legion, left his wife for Julia.
She stayed with him for five years before his drinking and infidelity became too much for her.
Relocating out of Lincolnshire, she settled in the Norfolk village of Tattishall and gained her own pub for the first time.
The Beggar’s Cup was a run-down flat-roof pub that had been partially burned down the previous year and needed extensive work and remodelling.
Rumours at the time were of an insurance job.
The family’s luck began to change. Soon Julia was making a tidy profit, but as her fortunes improved, her children’s turbulent lives began to get worse.
Forrest’s older brother, Jakub, who went by the nickname Kuba, was first arrested at sixteen. By age twenty, he had already served a 30-day stretch for theft. But then the problems got worse when he was discovered in possession of a hard drive full of indecent images.
I put my phone back in my pocket. I didn’t need to read anymore.
I’d lived it. I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror.
Tears were running down my face. Most of the time, I’d have instantly brushed them away, determined to try and make myself look less soft, but …
I couldn’t face the mirror, and I was too exhausted to even raise my hand.
Everything I’d done to change my life was for nothing. People wanted me back where I’d come from. No one wanted to celebrate my success. They wanted to tear me down because I’d made the mistake of falling for Tarquin.
I have no idea how long I stood at the sink and stared at the mirror before I was able to summon up the energy – or was it the courage? – to exit the bathroom. I put my ear to the door and listened for sounds, but heard nothing. Everyone must have either left or gone to a different room to regroup.
Wondering if I should text Simon and take him up on his offer, I instead made my way out. I saw a door to what I assumed was the kitchen and decided to leave that way. The room was dark, despite dusk being upon us outside. The half-light gave the world a menacing vibe despite the heat.
Outside the kitchen door, an orange dot glowed. I froze.
“Arden, there you are.” Katrina Pettigrew puffed on her cigarette. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone I saw you.”
I came up to her and blinked in the small amount of light at the doorway from the dusk outside. Katrina swatted her ciggie smoke away, but I gave a dismissive wave for her not to bother.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said honestly.
“You’re probably the only one. Lots of people will think they did a public service.”
“People never get what they deserve,” she said. “The innocent suffer and the guilty prosper.”
“And I thought I was a cynic.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are. You shouldn’t let this ruin your life, Arden. You’ve got happiness ahead of you. You’re young.”
“I feel a hundred years old.”
“Hey.” She turned serious. “Listen to me. I’ve been there …
” Her voice was somewhere far away. “It wasn’t just my husband I lost. My son died a few years before him.
I thought I’d never see the light again.
I honestly thought I’d never recover. But I did.
And if I can make it out of that, then I believe you can make it out of this. ”
I was shocked. “I’m sorry. Did-did he …”
“He was a soldier. Twenty-five. Someone didn’t do their job properly, and he suffered the consequences.”
“Where was he posted?”
She laughed. “That’s the worst thing. This happened here in the UK. On base. Anyway, I say this to remind you that life is precious, Arden. You can revel in the misery, or you can keep fighting, and eventually it’ll get better.”
She touched me lightly on the arm. “They’re all in the drawing room listening to Frobisher apologise still. If you want to escape, now is your chance. Do you know the way back from the stile?”
“I think so.” I smiled. “Thanks, Katrina. Have a good evening.”
I walked away from her, heading back towards the stile, lost in my own mind.
Behind me the door opened behind me and voices emanated from it.
I’d just passed the side of the house with the terraces to my right.
It was light enough that everyone could see me.
Before I could move, Tommy and Odette were upon me.
“Hello, Arden, where have you been?” Tommy smirked. “Or should I say Arkadiusz?”
“Tommy!” his wife exclaimed and came towards me. “Are you okay?” she asked with genuine concern.
“Arden!” a voice rang out from above us on the terrace. I looked up to see Simon coming towards me, with Riz and Marina behind him.
“We shouldn’t be seen with him,” Marina said bluntly.
Simon glared.
Marina gave me a dirty look. I was besmirching her candidate by being near him.
“You can stay back then,” Simon spat at her. “But I’ll check in on my friend.” He came down the stairs to join me and the Douglases.
Instinctively, I took a step back.
“I think she’s got the right idea, actually, Anson,” said Tommy. “Maybe none of us should be near him. Can’t believe you’ve been near Tatiana. If we’d known you had family history for it …”
Odette gasped, and Simon gripped Tommy by the arm and yanked him back.
But none of them met my eye. Maybe they were right. I probably shouldn’t be near them.
“I … I have to go,” I said and began to retrace my steps towards the kitchen.
“Arden, no, go the back way! The reporters!” Odette shouted. “Simon, do something!”
But I was walking faster. “Ah, leave him!” I heard Tommy’s voice. “He wants to sulk.”
I walked as fast as I could around to the front of the house.
The door to the kitchen was closed, Katrina had finished her smoke, so instead I started to make my way down the driveway.
So what if there were reporters? Hell, maybe it’d be a good thing to try and say something.
Yeah, I could give a statement. I could say—
“There he is! Forrest! Arden!” I heard a voice in front of me. The gates to Honningtons were about twenty metres away. I stumbled. A flash of lights put spots in my eyes. “Oi, over here, Arden! Any comment on the piece?”
My voice lodged in my throat. I had a speech planned … but I— I couldn’t think of anything to say. I had to defend myself, but I couldn’t think of any way to.
There was the rev of an engine behind me, and I jerked away. A sleek, dark car pulled up, and the window wound down.
Errol Mottley looked at me evenly from inside the vehicle. “Get in, Arden. Don’t even think about speaking to them.”
I didn’t have much of a choice. I got in and Errol floored it towards the gates. They were on an electronic sensor and opened metres from us, sending the reporters out of the way as they swung outwards.
There was a flash of bulbs from the few reporters who hadn’t been pushed back, but Errol drove too fast for them to get much of a look.
I stared back but felt his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t give them the satisfaction, mate.” I nodded and pulled myself around in my seat to look forward.
“Thank you.”
“Not a problem.” He grinned at me. “I was leaving anyway. Where should I drop you?”
“My house is up on the hill.”
“Your house? Surely it’ll be better to stay away tonight.”
“I can’t … I—”
“Tell you what, it’s early yet, let’s go get a drink in Sittingston and we’ll discuss what you can do when you’ve cleared your head.”
I was gonna say no, but he was already pulling onto the High Street and turning north, away from my house, before I could answer.
“I’m not sure, I should. My dog will need me.”
“Does the dog have food and water?” I nodded. “Then it’ll be fine for a few hours.”
I felt guilty at abandoning Kenny, but the thought of going home was less than enticing. Would there be crowds of reporters waiting for me?
We lapsed into silence as darkness fell over the countryside outside. Errol’s car, I noticed finally, was a nice late model with plush interiors.
“How—”
“I know what you’re gonna ask, and no, the party doesn’t pay for the car. This is mine. I used to be a consultant for the private sector. All very money, money. Now I’m a pauper living on donations from Brenda in Wells.”
“It’s a nice car. Very … sensible. German.”
He laughed. It was a nice laugh.
I tried to be sociable. “Did I miss much in Guy’s meeting?”
He shook his head. “Not really, he wanted to say thank you to everyone who’d helped him. To acknowledge Suzy and Riz for being gentlemanly about the whole thing and not using it to score points.”
“You guys have pretty much got it in the bag then, eh?” I said. “Whoever Guy’s party chooses has two weeks to try and build a new campaign.”
“The Tories will do what the Tories always do.” Errol shrugged. “They’ll find an old white bloke and trot him out. He’ll have stood as cannon fodder in thirty-seven previous elections in unwinnable seats, or they’ll get some local councillor to step in at the last minute. It’s not that uncommon.”
I nodded. Errol kept a constant flow of conversation as we drove.
He had an easy air about him. He kept the chat to purely superfluous matters and the amount of replies I had to make to a minimum.
By the time we entered the village, I had begun to feel slightly more human.
Sittingston was in a happening mood for a Saturday night.
By which I mean there were at least two pubs open.
“Where are you staying?”
“The Cock and Feather. You know it?”
“The pub? No. The bondage bar in Vauxhall? Very well.”
He laughed again. “Is that the one next to the sauna? The door charge is extortionate.”
Errol pulled up outside a less than charming looking pub at the south end of the High Street and we got out. It felt nice to not be in my house. “Come on, I’ll get you a drink.” Errol led the way.