Peter Robinson - Not Safe After Dark

Banks’s parents looked at one another, then his mother got some scissors from the kitchen drawer and came back and knelt by the largest box. Roy and Geoff helped, and soon between them had managed to drag out the computer monitor, processor unit and keyboard.

‘It’s a computer,’ said Ida Banks, clearly at a loss.

‘Now you’ll be able to go on the Internet,’ said Roy. ‘We’ll be able to send each other email.’

‘Will we?’

‘Yes.’

‘But it’s so… so expensive.’

‘Oh, it’s nothing. Everyone should have a computer these days. They’re the future.’

Ida Banks reached out and touched it gingerly, as if it might bite. ‘The future-’

‘We’d better get it out of the way for the time being,’ said Arthur Banks. ‘Our guests will be arriving soon.’

‘Right.’

Between them, Geoff, Roy and Banks took the computer upstairs and set it up on the desk in the spare room.

‘That’ll be nice for them,’ said Geoff.

Banks thought it was the stupidest present he could think of. His parents were in their seventies; they weren’t going to learn how to use a computer. His own present, a particularly moody Yorkshire landscape painting he had found in an antique shop in Richmond, had met with polite praise, but he felt it was probably destined for the back of the wardrobe. The computer, he suspected, would sit at this desk, not even plugged in, just gathering dust. Unless Geoff Salisbury decided to use it.

Just as the three of them started downstairs, the front doorbell rang.

‘Here come the first guests,’ said Geoff. ‘It’s started.’

First to arrive were Uncle Frank and Aunt Harriet, and after that Banks began to lose track. Here came relatives he hadn’t seen for years, cousins he never even knew existed. It was only to be expected with both his mother and father coming from large families – six and four respectively – but it was a shock nonetheless.

Geoff took to bartending duties like a fish to water, and Roy worked the room like a politician, all hail-fellow-well-met, as if these people he had probably never seen before meant more to him than his own life. If the truth were known, he had been home even less often than Banks and hardly ever in touch with the more distant relatives.

Arthur Banks seemed bewildered by it all, tired, sticking to his armchair, glass of beer at hand, though Ida got into the party spirit and Banks fancied she even became a little tipsy. Music played quietly in the background, mostly crooners and big bands, though pop entered the mix when someone found an old compilation album. It was pretty much the same stuff as Banks had found in his room, or at least softer stuff from the same period – Cliff Richard, Eden Kane, Frank Ifield, Billy Fury, the Bachelors and the ubiquitous Val Doonican – but it was only for background, wallpaper music.

In a lull after the first few guests had arrived, Banks managed to get Roy alone for a few minutes while a couple of young cousins, similarly bedecked, admired Corinne’s body-piercing,

‘I’ve been wanting a word in your ear,’ Banks said. ‘It’s about that Geoff Salisbury.’

‘What about him? Seems like a decent chap. Takes good care of Mum and Dad.’

‘That’s just it. I think he steals from them.’

‘Oh, come on, Alan. It’s that suspicious copper’s mind of yours working overtime again.’

‘No. It’s more than that.’ Banks told him about the short change.

‘Could have been any reason for that,’ Roy said. ‘A genuine mistake. You don’t always have to think the worst of people, you know.’

‘He’s got their PIN number. They give him their Abbeylink card.’

‘He takes care of their finances. For crying out loud, somebody’s got to do it. I mean it’s not as if you’re around much, is it?’

Banks realized he was fighting a losing battle. Roy didn’t want to believe that Geoff was anything other than a godsend, and he would resist any evidence to the contrary. ‘He’s got a criminal record,’ Banks went on nevertheless, pissing against the wind. ‘Swindling old folk out of their life savings.’

Roy just laughed. ‘Mum and Dad haven’t got anything worth swindling. You know that. And besides, don’t you believe in rehabilitation? I assume he’s paid his debt to society?’

‘Yes, but-’

‘Well, then.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Roy. I caught him red-handed.’

‘Listen, big brother. So what if he’s pocketing a bob or two here and there? He practically does all their shopping for them, house cleaning, too. Isn’t it worth it?’

‘That’s not the point. If he wants paying for what he does, that’s different.’

‘Maybe it’s just his way.’

‘It’s a funny bloody way.’

Roy shrugged and laid his arm across Banks’s shoulders. ‘Like I said, it’s not as if you’re around to do it, is it, eh? I say count your blessings and let sleeping dogs lie. Look, there’s Uncle Ken. See you later.’

Banks muttered to himself under his breath. He should have known approaching Roy was a waste of time. Anybody suspected of swindling a penny out of him and he’d probably put a contract out on them, but his own parents… On the other hand, was Roy right? Was Banks making too much out of all this? Being a party pooper? He looked at his parents. They seemed happy enough – his mother did, anyway – what right had he got to challenge that? What gave him the moral justification to come down here once in a blue moon and spoil what little good fortune they had going for them? His mother clearly adored Geoff – he could tell by the way she looked at him and talked about him – and having him around made life a hell of a lot easier for his father, too. Roy was right. Banks had been interfering too much, and it was about time he backed off and left people to get on with their lives.

‘Penny for them?’

Banks turned. It was Kay. ‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ he said. ‘Nice to see you.’

She smiled and touched his arm. ‘Nice to see you, too. I was just talking to your mother. She offered her condolences.’

She was wearing a lemon summer dress, which fell to just below her knees and she had her hair tied up and held in place with a patterned leather barrette.

‘You look wonderful,’ Banks said.

Kay blushed. ‘Thank you. How about a drink for the lady?’

‘Of course. Vodka and tonic?’

‘That’ll do nicely.’ She took hold of his arm. ‘And don’t go too far away. I don’t know anyone else here.’

‘Of course you do,’ said Banks. ‘You know my parents.’

‘I haven’t seen them for years.’

‘And my brother Roy.’

‘He was just a little kid when we were together. Around too often, if I remember correctly.’

Banks nodded. He remembered being blackmailed into giving Roy money to get lost on more than one occasion. ‘You know Geoff Salisbury,’ he said, nodding to where Geoff stood by the fireplace talking to some cousin whose name Banks couldn’t remember.

Kay gave a little shudder. ‘Yuck. I don’t know about you, but he gives me the creeps.’

They got their drinks.

‘Come on,’ Banks said to Kay. ‘Let’s get some fresh air.’

They went out to the back step. Banks could hear music next door, but only softly. The rain had stopped earlier that afternoon and it had turned into a pleasant evening. The sky was already darkening and the stars coming out. There was even a pale quarter moon low in the sky. Banks leaned against the wall. Kay stood quietly beside him.

‘Last night-’ he began.

But Kay hushed him, putting a finger to his lips. ‘No. Don’t say anything. That was marvellous. Special. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?’