Cath Staincliffe - Witness

They were barely alone that first night. Not until the early hours when the last of the tipsy mourners had left.

‘You look tired,’ Jeri said when he came in from the shower, a towel round his waist and his chest, his skin a golden caramel colour, dotted with droplets of water.

‘Mega.’ She kissed him. His lips were soft, tentative. His arms went round her and she closed her eyes, leaned into him, kissed his neck. His skin was smooth and warm and she felt the bump of his pulse through her lips.

‘You want to sleep?’ he murmured.

‘In a little while.’ She raised her face and looked at him. The swirl of desire washed through her spine and her limbs and deep inside her. She felt weak.

He nodded and led her to the bed.

Vinia was at the funeral. Cheryl was glad she’d come even though the friendship was in tatters. Nana had been like a grandmother to Vinia, who’d not known her own, both of them dying when she was still small. Nana regularly fed and sheltered Vinia when Cheryl brought her back from school. Times in Vinia’s own home were always stormy and Nana’s was a refuge of sorts.

Cheryl felt spacey all day, reeling between hot tears and a cold, shattered, numb sensation. Jeri wore a beautiful black suit made of fine, soft wool and a white shirt. He looked wonderful, Cheryl thought, like a model himself in a glossy magazine, advertising a watch or men’s fragrance. When they first arrived at the church she could sense the ripple of interest from the congregation. She could imagine the gossip.

At the cemetery, Vinia came up to them. Cheryl’s heart sank. Not now, she thought.

‘Jeri,’ Vinia greeted him. ‘Hi, Milo.’ Milo grunted. He’d got a cold and he was grumpy with it. Vinia’s eyes were red, her nose puffy. She’d been crying. ‘Cheryl, I am sorry,’ Vinia said.

‘Thanks.’ Cheryl tried to smile, moved to walk away but Vinia put her hand out, touched Cheryl’s arm. ‘You were right.’ Vinia lowered her voice, glanced at Jeri.

About what? Had Vinia found out Cheryl had testified? Cheryl’s belly churned, her pulse rate rose. Instinctively she drew away from Jeri, turned her back to him, blocking his view of Vinia.

‘I’ve written to him,’ Vinia said. ‘It’s over. You happy now?’

Cheryl shrugged. ‘’Spose.’

Vinia’s bravado faltered. Her eyes grew wet. ‘I miss you, girl.’ She looked ashamed.

Cheryl swallowed. Gave a nod.

‘We good?’ For the first time she saw the need in Vinia and the fear too, the apprehension that Cheryl might still rebuff her, and Cheryl understood that this had not been easy for her friend.

‘Yeah,’ Cheryl nodded.

Vinia gave a little breath, found her cigarettes and held them out to Cheryl, who hesitated then shook her head.

Vinia signalled towards Jeri with her eyes, raised her eyebrows in a silent question: you told him?

Cheryl shook her head and shot Vinia a warning look then turned to go. ‘We’ll see you at the hall.’

They sat in the living room, Jeri and Cheryl, side by side, drained by the day. Milo was asleep upstairs. Cheryl was on edge, running versions of her announcement in her head while Jeri talked about Jamaica and how they might travel.

‘I can’t come,’ Cheryl said, the words blunt.

‘Why?’ He frowned. ‘We can sort out the passports. I know you don’t like taking money but-’

‘I’m pregnant.’ Her voice shook.

Jeri turned to her, his face blank with amazement. Time stretched out. ‘Oh, man,’ he said eventually.

Cheryl searched his face, looking for clues to revulsion or pleasure or annoyance. Finding nothing.

‘I thought you should know,’ she said flatly. ‘Doesn’t mean I expect anything.’

‘It’s a surprise.’ He got to his feet. He had his back to her, still in his white shirt, his suit trousers. His hands in his pockets. ‘Oh, man,’ he said again softly.

Cheryl had her hand over her mouth. She had no more tears today but her lips were trembling. She didn’t want him to know how much this hurt. She’d been such a fool to think she could hold on to a man like him with his glamorous job and his money and his fine looks.

The silence yawned between them. Then, ‘Do I get a say?’ His voice was tight.

‘In what?’ Whether she kept the baby? Did he want her to get rid of it?

He turned to look at her; his face was drawn. A line furrowed his brow. ‘You don’t expect anything from me,’ he said steadily. ‘Is that because you don’t want anything from me? You’d rather be on your own? My part’s over?’

He thought she’d used him. She shook her head, she didn’t know what to say. ‘It was an accident,’ she told him.

He pressed his hands to his head, squashing his dreads. Sighed. ‘I don’t know where I stand with you, Cheryl. We get on real well, it’s going fine, then suddenly you’re busy, you can’t get to Bristol, I can’t visit you here. You make stupid excuses about babysitters. You treat me like a yo-yo.’

‘No!’ She had to put him off because of the trial, that was why. Mostly why.

‘You were happy enough for me to come for the funeral but now that’s done, I’m not needed. Yeah?’

She couldn’t tell him about the trial. She couldn’t ever tell anyone. That secrecy was all that kept her safe, her and Milo and the little baby to come. And the rest? Holding him at arm’s length? Not getting too close, too eager. How could she explain that?

‘Why me?’ She found her voice. ‘You could be with anyone. All those talented people, musicians and dancers – all those places – your life…’ She knew she wasn’t making sense. She pressed her temples. ‘I thought you’d drop me, even before the baby, thought you’d hurt me.’

‘Why?’ His eyes flashed.

‘Because I’m not like you.’ Her eyes burned. ‘I don’t even have a pay cheque. I haven’t got a passport. I was trying to be realistic. This…’ She flung her arm out, taking in the room. ‘This is it!’

‘You think so little of me? Of yourself? I started out in a place just like this!’ He raised his voice. ‘There was never enough money. You think I’ve forgotten all that?’

‘But you could have anyone,’ Cheryl said.

‘Most of them, the hangers-on, the groupies, they’re takers, Cheryl. They like the image, the lifestyle. It’s all skin deep. You’re different. You’re real.’ When he spoke again his voice was very quiet. ‘Least, I thought you were.’

In the pause that followed she heard an ambulance siren. She wondered who was hurt and what had happened to them. If there was more trouble.

‘I was scared,’ Cheryl said, ‘I’m sorry. And I really didn’t know you, if I could trust you. I still don’t.’ She stared across at Nana’s chair, empty.

‘I could say that too,’ he said.

‘I’m not ashamed of who I am,’ she added, ‘I’m not. I’m as good as anyone else. I care about you,’ Cheryl cried, ‘I really like you but it’s all mixed up and I don’t know what’s going to happen.’

‘Hey.’ He moved to sit beside her, pulled her into his arms. ‘Hey.’

She wept dry tears, for herself, for Nana.

‘I’m here,’ Jeri said, ‘I’m here because I want to be with you. You’re beautiful, outside and in. I can’t get you out of my head, girl. First time I saw you, blew me away, I knew. That feelin’ – man… I really like you, Cheryl, and we’re having a baby. You and me. We’re having a baby, yeah?’

Cheryl nodded, choking on a sob.

‘We’ll work it out, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

Cheryl pulled away and looked at him. He held her eyes, his own bright and steady.

Joe Kitson rang Cheryl. He was putting her forward for the reward money. If approved, and he’d do his damnedest to make sure it was, she’d be given a code to take into a city centre bank so her anonymity would be preserved.