Doug Johnstone - Hit and run

Billy thought about that. All this from a car accident. His car accident. Maybe he’d performed a public service, starting a chain of events that would end with the criminal world destroying itself. Happy ever after. Yeah, right.

‘Anyway,’ Price said. ‘I was hoping you might be able to do me a favour.’

‘Oh?’

‘Nothing drastic. I was just wondering if you’d mind going to see Adele Whitehouse again, see if you can get something more out of her.’

Billy pictured her. She said she’d phone. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and sneaked a look. Nothing.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Rose tells me you had a fairly unorthodox way of getting to her.’

‘Maybe.’

‘I don’t need to know the details, just the results, if you manage to speak to her.’

‘I don’t see what you’re expecting me to achieve. You interviewed her at the station, what else can I do?’

‘Judging by your piece, quite a lot. She opened up to you. Rose has a theory that it’s down to animal magnetism.’ He smiled at her across the table, and Billy felt like he was playing gooseberry. ‘I wouldn’t know anything about that. But whatever the reason, I think it’s worth a go. Are you up for it?’

‘I suppose.’

He wanted to see her, couldn’t stop thinking about her. Something had almost happened between them. He’d killed her husband. He knew about her covering for Dean. His head ached, the lump on his temple throbbing with its own life force. He lifted his hand to it and rubbed.

‘That looks nasty,’ Price said. ‘Have you had it looked at?’

‘His brother’s a doctor,’ Rose said. Billy had forgotten she was there. She’d let them knock the conversation back and forth, never speaking. Sign of a good reporter. ‘He took a look at it, didn’t he?’

‘Yeah, said it was nothing to worry about.’

‘How did you do it?’ Price asked.

‘He wouldn’t tell me,’ Rose said.

Billy imagined what it would be like if he confessed, finally told the truth.

‘Just a stupid drinking injury,’ he said.

‘There you go, girl.’

Jeanie stuck her nose in the new basket and thumped her tail. She stepped in and circled three times, checking everything, then she nestled down and placed her chin on her paws with a look of satisfaction.

Billy had jumped in the car and headed to the big supermarket at Cameron Toll. He took a wander down the pet aisle, Jeanie sitting in the trolley. He picked up dog food and biscuits, chewy things and squeaky toys, stainless-steel bowls, a collar and lead, the basket and blanket. A handful of treats, to put some meat on her bones.

Back home, he’d arranged all the stuff in his bedroom. Zoe didn’t mind. She’d always had dogs growing up, black Labs, something Billy was jealous of. Her place in Trinity had a big garden for them to run around in, and Zoe’s mum didn’t have to work so was always there for walks while Zoe’s dad was out cutting deals or whatever, all the while Zoe traipsing across town to George Heriot’s at a cost of umpteen thousand quid a year.

Now he had his own dog. It felt good. He sat on the floor and rubbed his hand up and down her flank. He wondered where she’d come from, what had happened for her to be found wandering the streets alone. Might’ve been abused, or maybe she was simply lost. She was undernourished, he could see that. She was friendly and obedient, though. Maybe she recognised a fellow lost soul when she saw one.

‘She’s beautiful,’ Zoe said.

‘She certainly is.’

Jeanie opened an eye. She knew they were talking about her. Her tail flickered into life briefly then dropped again.

Zoe was sitting on the bed behind Billy. ‘I’m sorry.’

He didn’t look up. ‘What do you have to be sorry about?’

She was stroking his neck now, mirroring his own hands on Jeanie. ‘We should’ve reported it.’

There was a long silence. Eventually Billy spoke. ‘Yes, we should’ve.’

‘But it’s too late now, you have to see that.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘But we have to, honey.’

‘No we don’t.’ Billy looked up finally. ‘Sitting here with Jeanie is the most peaceful I’ve felt since it happened. I don’t want it to end.’

‘Neither do I, but I’m worried.’

‘Of course you’re worried.’ Billy looked back at Jeanie, felt the soft ruffles of her fur through his fingers. ‘You should be worried. Your boyfriend is a murderer.’

Zoe stopped rubbing his neck. ‘Don’t say that.’

‘It’s true.’

‘Look at me, Billy Blackmore.’

He lifted his head a little.

‘In the eye.’

He held her gaze.

‘You are not a murderer, got it? What happened to you could’ve happened to any of us, to anyone. It was an accident. We should’ve reported it, maybe we could’ve saved his life, maybe not. But it would’ve ruined our lives, Charlie was right about that.’

‘It’s already ruined our lives.’

‘Not if we don’t let it.’ Her voice was pleading. All he seemed to hear these days were pleading, desperate voices.

‘It’s ruined my life.’

‘You have to snap out of it.’

Billy laughed. ‘That’s your answer? Get over killing someone by snapping out of it?’

‘Look, I know whatever I say is not going to be enough to make you feel any better. That’s why I think you should take the pills Charlie gave you. He says they’ll help with how you’re feeling.’

‘Charlie says, Charlie says.’ He sounded like a little kid in a huff.

‘He’s only looking out for you.’

‘Looking out for himself, more like.’

‘How can you say that?’

‘Because I know him better than anyone. He’s worried I’ll lose the plot and confess and put him in the shit, that’s all he’s concerned about.’

‘That’s not true. If I thought that was true I wouldn’t go along with him.’

Billy looked away. ‘You two seem awful friendly these days.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean, Billy? Come on, think about what you’re saying. You need to rest.’

‘And take my medicine, right?’

‘It’s not like that.’

‘We’re going round in circles here.’

He got up to leave but Zoe held his wrist.

‘Remember the tartan taxi,’ she said.

This was a game they played. Revisiting their first kiss. It used to cement their feelings, now it seemed like a reminder of what was lost.

She pulled him on to the bed and he let himself be drawn in. Her smell was sharper than Adele’s, her skin softer and more familiar, her eyes, just different, so very different from Adele’s. He tried to remember the first time, in the back of a lurid cab after some student thing on campus. He kissed her now and she responded, pushing against him, her fingers running up his neck and through the back of his hair. But all he could think about was the body lying on the road, the tick of the car engine, the sudden pain flashing across his head and down his spine. He thought of Adele as he felt Zoe’s tongue in his mouth. This was an unholy mess. Pain bore down across his temples as he kissed Zoe, his hands stationary, his body stiff like rigor mortis.

Jeanie barked, an inquisitive, friendly noise. It was the first time he’d heard her bark. He pulled away from Zoe and looked round. Jeanie was standing by the bed, tail wagging, watching them.

‘I can’t,’ Billy said. ‘Not with Jeanie here.’

‘So put her out the room.’

‘I don’t want to do that.’

Zoe shuffled across the duvet. ‘Fine.’ She swung her legs off the bed and stood up, staring at Billy. ‘I’m going to get something to drink. I’ll leave you two alone.’