Tony Black - Paying For It

I rubbed her back, tried to tuck the blanket in tighter. ‘Amy, do you want me to take you home?’

Tears started to roll, sobbing. ‘No. Can’t I stay here with you?’

‘Sure, sure,’ I said. ‘Just relax, it’s all going to be fine.’

I checked the clock, I knew time was running out for us. I needed to get Amy away from the city. I couldn’t risk any more fallout striking her. But, Christ, how did I tell her that?

I’d dragged her into this, I might not have meant to, but sure as shooting she was here because of me. I fired up a tab, dragged deep. My mind wouldn’t function. Ideas seemed like something I used to have.

‘Col, a word,’ I said.

He left Amy’s side, joined me at the bar.

‘We need to get her out of here. We’ve very little time. If she’s still around me when they come looking…’

‘I know, I know.’ Col trembled, went behind the bar and poured himself a large whisky; I’d never seen him drink before.

‘What’s this?’ I said.

His face turned ashen, his eyelids dropped. ‘Courage… I need courage.’

He raised the glass, downed it in one, I grabbed his wrist. ‘I don’t think you should.’

He snapped, ‘Don’t tell me that, Gus. This is all my doing, do you think I can’t see it?’

I tried to set him straight. ‘Col, none of it, not one bit, has anything to do with you.’

He shook my hand off, returned to the bottle. ‘What do you know? You understand nothing. Didn’t I put you on to this? Didn’t I start it all. By the Lord above, wasn’t Billy my son!’ A tremor passed through him, head to toe, and he started to cry. ‘When I look at that girl through there do you know what I see, Gus?’

I shook my head. ‘What do you see?’

‘Those girls… those poor young girls, all of them.’

‘Col… don’t.’

He raged: ‘No. Billy brought those girls in, he was a maker of misery — him and all that pack. How could a son I raised be guilty of so much misery?’

‘Don’t. Don’t do this to yourself.’ I wanted to stop him. To see him get a grip, because every word he said felt like another drop of acid on my own conscience. ‘Amy needs us to be strong right now. We need to get her away from this. It isn’t fair on the girl to see any of us folding; I’ll take what’s coming to me, but for Chrissake, let’s keep her out of it.’

Col put down the glass, seemed to gather himself.

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘We need to get her away… do you still have Billy’s money?’

‘Of course. I wouldn’t touch it.’

‘Then give me some of it, now.’

I returned to Amy, flicked on the television to try and distract her. She sipped at her coffee, started to come around. She was tough, I knew that, but even still, she’d need some time to get over this. Time, however, was one thing we didn’t have.

Col appeared with Billy’s Nike holdall, handed it to me. He gave me a look I’d never seen before, imagined it to be the kind exchanged in the trenches of World War One, just before two buddies went over the top.

‘It’s done,’ said Hod. As he walked in the door my thoughts clicked into place.

I grabbed his arm. ‘Right, I need a word.’

I led him away to the bar, left Amy with Col, told him to keep the coffee flowing.

‘Hod, get her out of here,’ I said. I handed him a bunch of notes. ‘Get on a flight — Paris, Ayia Napa — bloody anywhere.’

He took the cash. ‘So that’s it then — it’s over, we just cave?’

‘There’s that word we again. It’s me that’s brought this on.’

‘And what about finding justice for Billy?’

‘Billy found his own justice.’

‘Meaning?’

‘He wasn’t exactly Mr Nice Guy. Go figure, Hod.’

Hod pulled his head in, tried another line of attack. ‘And what about Col then?’

‘He knows the score better than anyone.’

‘I think it’s wrong, Gus, to come this far.’

‘Drop it, would you?’

‘You’re letting them off, Gus. Billy’s killer is walking free and nothing’s changed, there’s still a racket feeding off the misery of those girls.’

‘Hod, I’m telling you — drop it.’

He stared me in the eye. I turned away. As he passed, I felt his shoulder cut into my own. I spun around, nearly knocked to the ground.

‘I’ll be telling Amy what she should really make of you,’ said Hod.

‘I wish you would.’

‘I thought I knew you better than this, Gus. Thought you’d never go down without a fight.’

If an answer waved in my mind, I missed it.

On the TV screen Zalinskas’ face flashed up. The case had concluded.

I ran through to the snug, stood under the television.

‘I don’t believe it,’ said Col. ‘He’s walked free.’

I knew all hell might break out at any minute. ‘Hod, get her the fuck out of here… now.’

I readied myself for the worst.

I told Col all I’d learned about Billy and the case. I filled him in on Nadja and Zalinskas, on Cardownie and the footage and anything else I’d missed out on previous reports. Throughout he sat quietly, listened. He seemed to be recording all I said, storing it away, but his eyes looked dead.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get all the answers.’

‘No matter,’ he said. ‘What does anything matter now?’

‘I wanted to give you some closure, you know that, Col.’

‘What else could you do? They’ve drawn in the wagons. You’ve done all you could, Gus. I’m thankful for that.’

I’d called a taxi, the driver blasted on the horn from outside the pub.

‘What will you do?’ said Col.

‘Get away for a while. I think I might be able to patch things up with Debs — just maybe.’

‘You deserve some happiness.’ He leaned forward, called me in, hugged me. I thought he felt cold. ‘Thank you, Gus Dury.’

I felt tears in my eyes, but I didn’t care.

‘This isn’t goodbye, Col.’

‘Och, I think it is.’

He took my hand and shook it. ‘I wish my son had been more like you, Gus.’

It felt like the greatest compliment of my life.

The taxi’s horn sounded again.

‘I have to go.’

‘Goodbye, then.’

We’d no time to linger on a lengthy farewell; for that, I felt grateful.

I told the cabbie to take me to my mother’s house. I planned to collect the urn and get out of town. The furthest ahead I thought was to return Milo’s ashes to his homeland. If I could persuade Debs to come with me, I’d take it from there.

A line of cars stretched bumper to bumper all the way down my mother’s street.

‘Can you wait?’ I asked the cabbie. ‘I’ll only be a minute.’

A huff. ‘I’ll have to keep the meter running.’

‘Well go on then.’

‘I’ll get turned. Can’t wait more than five minutes, though.’

I dashed inside. My mother sat in the living room with my sister.

‘Gus,’ said Cathy, ‘what is it?’

‘I can’t stop. How are you, Mam?’ She didn’t even look up, just stared at an indistinct spot on the wall.

‘She’s out of it. Doctor’s given her a scrip,’ said Cathy.

‘Is she going to be okay?’

Cathy turned around, walked me into the hall and closed the door behind us.

‘It would be nice to have you around a bit more, you know. She needs her family.’

‘Cathy, this isn’t a good time.’

‘You’re her son.’

The cabbie got impatient, another round of the horn sounded. ‘Maybe in a while. I have to get away for a bit.’

I turned from her, went to the hallstand and took down the ashes.

‘Suit yourself,’ said Cathy. She spun around, walked back to the living room, slammed the door.