David Belbin - Bone & Cane

Bob gave him a wry smile. ‘Want me to wait for you?’

‘I don’t know how long I’ll be.’

‘I’ll stick at the end of the road for a few mins.’

It wasn’t as though they were friends, or Bob was in Nick’s debt, but if this were prison, what Bob was doing would make him Nick’s mate for life. Bob drove three doors down and parked. Polly answered the door.

‘Can’t keep away, can you?’ she said. Her manner mingled mockery and affection. It annoyed him, because she was right, he still wanted her. Her short, blonde hair was mussed like she’d just got out of bed. Until a few days ago, this woman had let him do every dirty thing his imprisoned mind had imagined. And more.

‘Can I come in?’

‘I suppose. You’re expected,’ Polly said. She looked at him as if he was a wounded animal that one of the kids had brought in. ‘Are you sure about this?’

Without answering, he followed her into the living room, where Polly resumed ironing one of the kids’ grey polo shirts for school.

‘Where is he?’

‘Ed’s on the loo. He’ll be down in a minute.’ She finished the shirt and put down the iron. ‘What do you want, Nick?’

‘I want to know why you’re with him.’

Polly shook her head, then reached over to touch Nick’s face. She stroked his cheeks and felt under his chin. He couldn’t tell whether she meant this to resemble a doctor’s examination or a caress.

‘You’re filling out,’ she said. ‘I didn’t notice at first. Thought you looked the way you always do. Then, when I found out you’d been inside, it made sense. Guys inside, they don’t eat well, but they work out a lot. They get these hollow faces, dark lines below the eyes, like ghosts. Ed was like that the first time he came out. This time, too. And he’s hardly put the weight in his face back on. But you, you’re a softboy, aren’t cha? Mister university graduate who used to go out with an MP.’

‘Who told you that?’ Nick asked.

‘I did,’ Ed said, doing up his flies as he walked in. ‘Got the word at the cab office. Still in touch with her, are you?’

Nick didn’t reply.

‘I’ll bet you are. One or two looks you gave me when I talked about her, they make a bit of sense now. Jealous of what you’d lost, eh? Still, she were nought in’t sack compared to our Poll, was she?’

Polly gave them both a strained look.

‘Ne’er mind that threesome we talked about, let’s go the whole hog, get Sarah round for a foursome – cocks and cunt all over t’shop. What do you say?’

Bob’s knife felt heavy in Nick’s pocket. He didn’t know if Ed’s exaggeration of his Nottingham accent was deliberate or unconscious. Either way, Nick ought to get out. Yet he owed something to Polly, and to Sarah.

‘Listen,’ he said to Polly, ‘there are things you need to know.’

‘Oh yeah? And you know them, do you?’

He ignored her hostility. ‘I spoke to Sarah Bone about Ed. She told me about the night of the party, when he was released. Has Ed told you about that?’

Polly was silent. So was Ed. Maybe Nick had him worried.

‘He made a pass at Sarah and she brushed it off. No big deal, she thought. Only later, when she was about to leave, he grabbed her and dragged her into his hotel room.’

‘Really?’ Polly didn’t do sarcasm well, but he recognised the attempt.

‘Really. He tried to rape her, but she fought him off.’

‘You seen the size of her, and me?’ Ed said. ‘If I’d wanted to rape her, I would’ve done.’

Nick tried to remember the detail of what Sarah had told him and continued talking to Polly.

‘He knocked her over. She managed to knee him in the groin. So he couldn’t perform. He settled for scaring her, instead. And he told her a story, something I’m going to tell you now. Then I’ll go. Ed told Sarah she’d made a fool of herself. He did kill your brother, and your sister-in-law, both of them. And this is the man that you’re seeing instead of me.’

Polly stared at him for a moment. He thought he saw shock, then disdain, then disgust. But he had never been good at reading her.

‘Are you back with her?’ she asked, finally.

‘I’m not with anyone,’ Nick said.

She spoke to her boyfriend. ‘I can’t deal with this.’

Nick turned to Ed, ready to respond if the bigger man thumped him. Ed merely pointed to the front of the house. Nick followed him out.

‘You believe that crap?’ Ed asked, in the same matey tone he’d used earlier, but with less menace. ‘I mean, which is more likely, Nickyboy – that I murdered two people and got away with it thanks to Sarah Bone, or that I was grateful, so I fucked her, then chucked her when I got bored.’

‘You’re the one talking crap,’ Nick said, and immediately regretted sinking to his level.

‘Oh aye? You’re lucky I’m treating you so nice, pretty boy. Polly says you treated her right, near enough. So you and me, we’re not enemies – not mates, either. Before you get out of here, I’m going to give you a word to the wise.’

‘Go on, then,’ Nick said.

‘When you were with our Sarah, fifteen year ago or whenever – did you keep the lights on?’

‘What are you on about?’

‘Eyesight good, is it? Dunt matter. I’ll bet you went down on her.’

‘Where is this heading?’ Nick asked, trying to sneer but sounding like a teacher, even to himself.

‘Remember the little purple birth mark she’s got, right hand side, just where her pubes end, couple of inches from the belly button. Shape of Ireland, size of a new fivepenny piece. Do you remember that?’

When Nick didn’t answer, Ed gave him a wide grin.

‘Thought you would,’ he said.

28

Before going to bed, Sarah set the answering machine to activate rather than let the phone ring. When she got up and checked the machine, there were already seven messages waiting. She left them for later. The next call came when she was getting out of the shower. Sarah stood in her bedroom, still dripping, as she answered it. The view from her window was obscured by a huge elm tree which protected her privacy. Through the branches she could see that it was a beautiful, sunny day.

‘Sarah, it’s Andrew. I called to wish you good luck.’

‘Nice of you, if just a tad hypocritical.’

Andrew laughed. ‘Either way, will you be in town on Saturday?’

By ‘town’ he meant London . ‘ I should think so,’ Sarah said.

‘Then why don’t we have dinner rather than lunch this time,’ Andrew suggested. ‘The Sugar Club?’

‘I haven’t eaten there yet,’ Sarah admitted. ‘Okay, see if you can get a table. Dinner’s on me if I win.’

‘I’ll keep you to that. Good luck.’

Sarah dusted herself with talcum powder, rolled on deodorant. Today would be a long day and looked like being a hot one, too. She checked her messages then returned some calls. Nick hadn’t rung, as he’d promised to. He wasn’t a busy man. If he hadn’t called there would be a reason. She left her mobile turned on. If he didn’t call by lunch, she would ring to make sure he was coming to the party tonight.

It was a perfect first of May. Cherry blossoms bloomed. The sun sparkled on the roofs of expensive cars. Change was in the air. Sarah drove past last-minute leafleters delivering ballot-card-shaped reminders. They were all working for her side. At campaign headquarters optimism was rife. However, the smiles were being worn because everybody expected a Labour victory, not a Bone victory. Sarah wished she could share their exhilaration. She began to practise her good loser demeanour.

‘You said you’d give me until the election.’

‘I changed my mind,’ Nick explained to his brother. ‘I decided to bring my retirement forward, on your advice. I’m mad to risk going back inside.’