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Post by Big Lin on Mar 26, 2009 21:02:18 GMT
A Death too Far
---------------------------------------------------------------- Hope no one minds me posting this here. It's the first chapter of my novel.
Chapter One
I had seen death before, but not as I saw it on that cold February morning. Just yesterday the face of the one I loved had been full of hope and joy and laughter. Now the light in her eyes had dimmed for ever, and I would never see her smile or hear her laugh again. With a sudden shudder inside me, I turned away and threw up on the earth.
The birds still sang in the trees as brightly as ever, but their song meant nothing to me any more, seemed almost a mocking accompaniment to my grief. I bent down for a final farewell and then turned away. I couldn't bear to look at her anymore. Reaching into my bag, I took out my mobile phone.
The police and ambulance crews came quickly, and when they'd seen that there was no sign of life they took me on one side to ask me questions. A woman who looked about twenty-five and a man in his forties seemed to be in charge. Mostly it was the woman who talked to me.
'Do you know who she was?' she asked me.
'Yes, she was my friend. Her name was Megan White.'
'OK. And what's your name?'
'Linda McGrath.'
'Do you know what she was doing in the wood?'
'We often come here. Came here. I showed her where to find things.'
'Like what?'
I could see at once the copper was nervous when I said that.
'Just things,' I said. 'Just stuff. Like how to recognise trees and plants, know where the animals go at night and all that.'
She looked at me like she wasn't sure whether to believe me or not but she went on to another question.
'You found the body?'
'Yes.'
'How long ago?'
'About ten, fifteen minutes.'
'OK. How old are you, Linda?'
'Fifteen,' I said. 'But I'll be sixteen in a couple of months.'
'And Megan?'
'She'd turned sixteen three months ago.'
Suddenly the tears came flooding in. I couldn't stop myself sobbing. Meg was dead and I'd never see her again this side of heaven. If they'd ever let me in, that is.
The copper put her arm around me and held me tight. She let me cry myself all out of tears before she let go.
'We can do this later if you want,' she said quietly.
'No, you're all right. I don't mind telling you what I know. Not that I know much, mind, but I'll answer your questions.'
'You want me to call your parents?'
I hadn't even thought about that. God, I could just imagine what Mum was going to be like when I told her what had happened. Dad'd be all right about it of course but Mum would give me hell. I suppose they'll have to know sooner or later but right now I just couldn't face either of them.
'No, I don't think so,' I said finally. 'To be honest I'd rather talk to my Uncle Jimmy about things first. He'll know what to do.'
She gave me a funny look when I said that.
'You don't get on with your parents?'
'Oh, I wouldn't say that. Mum's OK, she's just – well, she's just Mum. Dad's great but – honestly, I'd much sooner have Uncle Jimmy here. Is it OK if I call him?'
'Sure, if that's what you want.'
So I picked up my mobile and called my favourite relative on the phone. It was Uncle Jimmy who'd taught me nearly everything I know about life and I knew he was the only one who could square things with my family.
Even he wasn't happy when I called him and asked him to come over. I knew why, of course, but it had to be him.
About fifteen minutes later he arrived. The coppers saw the car and tried to stop him, but I told the lady cop to let him through.
'Hi, Uncle Jimmy,' I said.
'Hello, Linda.'
Then the senior police officer talked to him.
'You're her uncle?' the older one started.
'That's right.'
'What's your name?'
'James Cooper. Are you all right, Linda?'
I didn't know how to answer that. It isn't every day you gaze into the dead face of someone you love. Especially when they died much too young. And violently, too.
'I'm OK,' I said finally.
'Do you have to question her now?' he asked, turning to the older man. 'She's obviously in a state of shock.'
'No, we can talk to her later. But it would be helpful if she told us everything she knows while it's still fresh in her mind.'
I looked up and shook my head.
'There's not much too tell,' I said. 'I don't know much, really. Only that I used to take Megan here a lot to look at the woods.'
'And were you with her today?'
'No, she must have come here on her own today. I went to the woods because I wanted... Oh well, it doesn't matter. You'll think I'm mad.'
The lady cop was all over me like a rash when I said that.
'Please tell me,' she said. 'No matter how trivial you think it is.'
I sighed and looked away for a minute, feeling silly.
'I always find peace in the woods. It's the only place I know where I can.'
'I see,' said the lady cop. 'Did Megan have a boyfriend?'
I looked down on the ground, feeling quite sick. Dear Meg was dead and they were asking me about her sex life!
Anyway, what could I tell them? The truth would only make us both look bad.
'Not that I know of,' I said finally.
'Can you think of any reason why someone would want to kill her? Did she have any enemies – or even people who just didn't like her?'
Suddenly I was weary and disgusted with the whole thing. It was like she wasn't a person anymore, just another dead body that they had to investigate and find out who'd killed her.
'Everybody liked her,' I said. 'I don't think she had any enemies or nothing like that. Look, I'm feeling a bit ... rough, I suppose. Can I go how now?'
The lady cop looked at her boss and he nodded.
'Yes, of course. Give me your address and phone number. We'll need to get in touch with you again.'
'OK.'
'I'll drive you home,' said Uncle Jimmy.
So I got into his car and he waited till we were five or ten minutes gone from the wood before he started in on me.
I knew he would and I knew what would be coming. I even knew he was entitled, but I just couldn't help myself. I had to call the cops and let them see poor Meg while she lay there on the cold hard ground.
'Linda,' said Jimmy, obviously in a foul mood, 'what did I tell you? You never have anything to do with the gavers. And now you got me mixed up in this and all. What happened?'
When he called me Linda instead of Lin I knew he was mad. Well, like I said, he was entitled, I supposed. Maybe I shouldn't have called them but I couldn't leave her dead on the ground all alone. I had to call them.
'I went out walking in the woods,' I said. 'I'd had a row with Mum and I needed some space. Then I saw her. She was just laying there and I had to call them, Jimmy. What else could I do?'
'You and your Mum!' he said angrily. 'You're always bloody fighting. What is it with you two? She's not so bad, Lin.'
'Well, she'll give me a right bollocking now, that's for sure. I can almost write the script.'
Jimmy smiled. He'd obviously calmed down by now and just wanted to make everything turn out right again. Trouble is, things could never be right again. Not now, not after today. I'd had to look death in the face and I didn't like what I saw at all.
'She cares about you, Lin. You know she loves you, don't you?'
'Yeah, maybe. But she never wants me to have any fun. If it was up to her I might as well be in prison.'
'Well, having fun didn't do your mate much good, did it? Look what happened to her.'
When he said that I couldn't hold back the tears. I just sobbed my heart out and Jimmy stopped the car. He pulled over so he could give me a handkerchief to wipe my eyes. But it was going to take more than a bit of cloth to stop the crying deep inside my aching heart.
'She wasn't just a mate,' I said finally. 'She was my ... my sister.'
'Don't talk daft,' said Jimmy instantly. 'She weren't no sister.'
'Not by blood, maybe, but she was miri tesorthene.'
Jimmy stared at me when I said that. I rarely spoke Romanes and anyway I only knew a few hundred words – not like him, who still lived the old ways as best as he could in this gadje world of ours.
For a couple of minutes he just stared at me in silence. I knew he'd understand what I meant. After all, his best friend was a gadje, even though he did have Romani blood in him from a hundred years ago. And my Mum, his sister, had married a gadje too!
'Tiri tesorthene? Your sister of the heart? That is hard for you, Lin.'
He still didn't know the half of it and I wasn't going to tell him. Much as I love my Uncle Jimmy, he did have his prejudices. I knew he'd slap me as soon as think if he knew the whole truth. Now Meg was dead, and the gavers were involved, and everything seemed empty, confused and utterly frightening. I shivered at the thought of what lay ahead.
We got home at last and Jimmy brought me inside. He knew I needed support from the verbal battering I was going to get.
'Where have you been?' Mum shouted, as soon as I came in. 'I've been worried sick about you, you selfish cow!'
'It's all right, Sarah, leave her alone,' said Jimmy. 'Her best friend's just been murdered and Lin found the body. She's called the cops and given them a statement but they'll probably be back to reinterview her. What she needs right now is love and support. Come on, Sarah, you know she's a latsho mushi!'
Then Dad put his arm around me and Mum looked at me a bit guilty. Not half as guilty as I felt, though. Me? A latsho mushi? A good girl? He didn't know the half of it. I might mean well, and have a lot of love inside of me, but I wasn't a good girl, not at all. Anything but a good girl, in fact.
'I'll make a tea,' said Mum, as if that would do any good. 'Are you all right, Lin?'
'I'm all right, Mum,' I lied.
Then nobody said any more about it. We sat there drinking tea and making small talk like nothing important had happened. I just felt sick and empty inside knowing that Meg was gone for ever.
When Jimmy finally left my parents started talking about me. Like you can guess by now, my Mum really got her wild up.
'You're always so irresponsible,' she said. 'I've told you to be more careful. Why do you keep going into those woods all the time anyway?'
I almost told her that some of it was to get away from her but I decided it would be better not to. She was in enough of a state as it was.
'I love nature, and I love the peace, and it's my special place, somewhere I can call my own and just be myself.'
'Huh! You sound like one of them crusties. When I think how hard your father and I've both worked to give you the opportunities we never had. You've got your GCSEs coming up in a few months. Ten of them too. You're a clever girl, Lin. You know we both want you to go on to university and have the chance to make something of your life. We couldn't do that but you can. We've scrimped and saved and worked all the hours God sends and we've only done it for the family. You, your sister and your brother are the reason we've slaved away all these years. Look at your Uncle Jimmy – do you want to turn out like him?'
'I love Uncle Jimmy,' I said quietly. 'He understands.'
'Like hell he does. He understands a lot of things it would be much better for him and the rest of us if he didn't. Why doesn't he get a proper job?'
'He has got a proper job,' I said defensively. 'He works in the wood. He's just brilliant with his hands – you know what a good carpenter he is. Why, you've only got to look at that car of his to know he's making money. And the clothes he wears and all. He might not do a 9-5 shift, but he works, Mum.'
'Maybe so, but I still think he's a bad influence on you. Filling your head with all this nonsense about the old days round the camp-fire and that. Even my parents had the sense to give up the travelling life when I was just a little girl of ten.'
'Well, just because you lost your romipen don't mean I can't be proud of my own heritage!' I shouted. 'Of course I know the old ways are gone for good. Even Jimmy tells me that much. It's not that I want to live them exactly – I just want to feel the soul of my people. I can read the patrin, and I can lay one; I know how to find food, and animals, and what herbs and stuff to use for medicine. I can track someone without them even knowing I'm there. I can speak about five or six hundred words of Romanes and I even know some of the songs and poems of the brothers. I know I can't follow the life but I still feel the leis-prala in my heart. Don't you ever feel like that, miri Dai?'
I deliberately used the Romanes expression meaning 'my Mum' to make a point. She seemed quite shaken by my outburst, and Dad was looking at the two of us getting ready to shape up like a couple of street fighters about to have a rumble.
'Oh, Linda, I only want what's best for you,' she said finally. 'You know I love you really, don't you? I only want you to be happy. Surely you know that?'
'I know you do, Mum. It's just – well, things are a bit complicated sometimes, you know. I've been really shaken by poor Meg's death.'
'She seemed a nice girl,' said Mum, obviously trying to calm down.
'She was wonderful,' I said. 'I still can't believe it could happen to her.'
'What a pity it had to be you who found the body! If only you'd – well, heard about it second-hand, like from the newspapers or something, maybe it wouldn't have been so much of a shock to you.'
But I knew it would still have been the most devastating thing I could imagine happening to me even if I had just read it in the papers.
I didn't get much sleep that night, still worrying and feeling guilty about so much stuff in my life it was harder to say what I didn't feel bad about than what I did. It wasn't even as if I could slip out the house now and maybe make a score uptown with one of the dealers, because the slightest move on my part would bring Mum down on me like a cascading slagheap.
When morning finally came I still didn't feel any better than I had yesterday. What was even worse, I knew I had to put in an appearance at school. The last thing I felt like doing was going there and listening to a load of crap from my teachers.
'Mum,' I said when I got up, 'do I have to go to school today? Couldn't I get compassionate leave or something?'
Mum glared at me when I said that.
'Compassionate leave? You were only her friend. It isn't as if you were family, is it?'
No, I certainly wasn't family but Meg and I had been more than family to each other for the last year. She had helped me through the most difficult time of life. Well, until now anyway. A year ago I was on the point of doing some really stupid shyt when she talked me out of it. Oh, Meg knew I was unstable and running with the wrong crowd, but she loved me just the same. Thanks to her I had the sense not to go the extra mile on my journey to stupidity, self-destruction and criminality.
If only my parents knew, I thought sadly. For the last eighteen months I've been a thief, a druggie, a vandal, and I've assaulted loads of other people. God, and Jimmy thinks I'm a latsho mushi!
The only good thing in my life over the last year has been Meg. She's taken me in hand and made me see what a prat I've been making of myself. She's never slagged me off but she's always been there for me and shown me love. And now she's gone for good – and I'm still here, still breathing the same air on God's earth as good people.
The worst of it is I can't even tell anyone the half of it. I can't tell Jimmy or my parents about Meg; I can't tell the cops about how she rescued me from the fast track to a juvenile detention centre; I can't even go and confess to a priest because I'm a Presbyterian and we don't do stuff like that. I could talk to the Samaritans but I haven't forgotten what happened when I tried that last year. Some snooty cow on the phone told me to get off the line unless I was planning to kill myself. Well, fuck her.
Though maybe now it would have been better for everyone if I had done myself in. The world would probably be a much better place without me anyhow.
In the end I went off to school under protest. At the back of my mind was the thought to score a few lines of sulphate from the local dealer. Right now, I felt like I could really do with a bit of whizz to clear my tangled head. And maybe a bit of blow and all to calm me down. I definitely needed the speed, though, that was for sure.
When I got there I was quiet and withdrawn, not my usual mouthy self at all. Everyone could see the change in me and eventually one of my mates came right out and asked me how I was.
'Megan's dead,' I told her. 'She got murdered last night in the wood. I found the body.'
From that moment on I was almost a minor celebrity. Even the local dealer gave me cut-price on the whizz and blow I asked him for. The teachers, for once, were looking at me with sympathy rather than their usual brassed-off expressions.
At the end of the afternoon I pushed off back home. I didn't go there straight away, but I did get there fairly quickly. My first plan was to get a glass of water and dissolve a few lines of sulphate in it double quick. I didn't have any other plan beyond that one though I knew that over the next few days I'd have to do something about the gaping hole in my life and maybe even try to sort out my fucked-up head before I ran off the rails big time.
My luck was really out that day. When I got home the lady cop was there with her fake smile and all put-on friendliness. I was scared shitless at the thought that she might find my stash of whizz and blow.
Mum, of course, just told me to sit down and answer the copper's questions. I asked if I could just go to the toilet first (where I quickly stashed my gear). Then I came down and waited for more stupid questions from the lady cop.
'Hello, Linda,' she said. 'You remember me, don't you?'
'Yeah, of course,'
'I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you some more questions.'
'OK.'
'You didn't touch anything at the scene of the crime, did you?'
'How do you mean?'
'I mean, when you found Megan, you didn't disturb anything you found there, did you?'
'Not that I know of.'
'When you found her she was lying in exactly the same position as when we arrived?'
'Well, of course I had a look at her to see if she was still alive,' I said. 'So I did turn her over because she was laying on her back at the time.'
'I see. Thanks for that, Linda. And you didn't take anything away from there with you, did you?'
'No, I never took nothing. Why would I? You think I'd rob a dead body?'
I was genuinely pissed off at that suggestion. As if I'd do something as low as that! Christ, I might be a gypsy but I'm not a fucking grave-robber!
'I'm sorry, Linda, I didn't mean to imply that,' she said. 'It's just that there was something missing from the scene that ought to have been there. I wondered if you might have taken it.'
'Well, I never took nothing. Like I told you, I don't do stuff like that. And even if I did, you think I'd rob a mate when she's just been murdered? Christ, what sort of person do you think I am?'
The lady cop sighed. She realised she was just getting my back up and so she stopped asking her stupid questions. Instead she started trying to get all pally with me.
'How long were you and Megan friends?'
I tried but couldn't quite stop the tears coming into my eyes when she said that. How can you talk about someone you love to a total stranger and say anything that means anything?
'Well, I knew her for about three years but we became close friends about a year ago.'
'And you told each other all your secrets?'
'Well, isn't that what friends do?'
The copper smiled.
'I'll take that as a yes. You say Megan never mentioned any boyfriends?'
'No, she never told me about any boys.'
'And did she get into trouble?'
I glared at her when she said that. What right did the fucking bitch have to come into my home and talk about the girl I loved as if she was some sort of villain or something like that?
'I don't know what you mean,' I said when I'd calmed down a bit, 'but she was the kindest, most honest and loving person I've ever known. She didn't do nothing to hurt anyone. Like I told you, she didn't have no enemies. And she didn't go getting into trouble neither.'
'Very well, Linda, that's all for now,' she said. 'I'll probably need to talk to you again but thank you for being so helpful.'
I tried not to show how stupid I thought that comment was. The fact was I'd given her fuck-all and not just because she was a copper either. What Meg and me had together was too precious to be dragged through the gutter by some cop like it was dirty or something. There was no way I was ever going to let that happen.
After she'd gone I went back to the toilet and recovered my stash. I got a glass of water and managed to pour the sulphate in it without being noticed. God, it felt good. Suddenly I could function again. What a wonderful feeling that was! Then I went upstairs to my room, hid the blow for laters, and come down to see Mum giving me a funny look. I just gave her one back and finally asked her what the hell was up.
'OK, Mum, you obviously got something you want to say to me. Spit it out, will you?'
Mum just looked like she wanted to hit me but those days were long gone. I was too big and strong for her to be able to push me about anymore.
'DC Conway,' she said, 'told me a lot of things that I was not at all happy to hear. She told me that Megan had something of a reputation at school.'
'Meaning what?'
'There were stories about her. Rumours, anyway.'
'Like what?'
'There was talk that she was ... well, that she was... a ... lesbian.'
'Well, what if she was?' I said angrily. 'What business is that of anyone?'
'DC Conway thinks it might be a motive for murder.'
'Well, what does that bitch know anyway? She never knew Meg and she never will know her. All I know is she was a lovely person.'
Mum just sighed. She looked at me as if for once she was trying to see my point of view in all this.
'Lin, you know I love you, don't you? Even though we seem to fight like cats and dogs, you do know I love you.'
'Yeah, I know, Mum.'
'Were you and Megan ... more than just friends? Were you having ... a lesbian relationship?'
So that was it, I thought. It's all out in the open now. Mum knows me and Meg were lovers. God knows how she found out but she has. I suppose one of the bitches at school grassed us up to the lady copper. Conway or whatever her name was.
I didn't answer straight away. I just looked out of the window and thought how sick and perverted people who hadn't known the love we'd shared together made everything sound. Maybe it was because they'd never known true love themselves. Anyway, whatever, I knew it was time to fess up about me and Meg.
'We were lovers, Mum, if that's what you mean,' I said finally.
'You dirty slut!' she shouted at me. 'And for the last couple of years I've been worried that you might be sleeping around with boys!'
I couldn't control myself with she said that. Probably the whizz made me even more mouthy than usual.
'Oh, I've done that and all, Mum,' I told her. 'I've fucked loads of boys. Must be at least a dozen by now.'
I suppose I was sort of asking for it really, but it still come as a bit of a shock when Mum lunged towards me and slapped me round the face. Pretty damned hard and all, to my surprise.
'My God, I've known for some time you were keeping bad company, but I didn't realise my own daughter had turned into a whore!' she screamed at me. 'You always were a wild one – maybe I should have spanked you more often when you were young enough that there was still a chance of knocking some sense into you! You're a selfish, wilful and thoroughly spoilt bitch who doesn't seem to appreciate how hard we've both worked to give you the chances in life your father and I never had. How could you be so ungrateful? Don't you care about anyone besides yourself?'
I just stood there staring at her for a minute, wondering what would happen to me if I hit her back. In the end I decided it wouldn't be worth the aggro. Instead I sat down and waited for her to calm down.
'I'm not a lubbeni,' I said quietly. 'I never have been. OK, maybe I have slept around a bit, but that's just how us girls are these days. We like to try new things, and if we like a bloke – or a girl, for that matter – we want to – well, have sex with them. You might think that makes me dirty, but I don't. I'm not some slapper that just has it off with anyone. Everyone I've had sex with I've cared about. And what happened between me and Meg was not just sex. We loved each other, Mum. We really did.'
Mum just sat down and glared at me when I said that. I didn't know what would happen next but she surprised me by turning on the waterworks. It wasn't often you saw my Mum crying, believe me.
'Love?' she said finally. 'You're fifteen years old. What the hell do you know about love? Love is what your father and I have together. It's not some silly adolescent fumbling looking for a cheap thrill. It's building a life together; it's taking on shared responsibilities, caring for and about each other. What can you possibly know about love at fifteen?'
Well, I didn't know what to say to that. All I knew was that to me and Meg, what we'd had together seemed like love to us, and we thought of it as love, and we both told each other that it was love.
'Maybe there's different kinds of love,' I said. 'All I know is we reckoned we was in love.'
'You thought you were in love? How bloody typical! Where did you ever learn about love – on the internet? In a newspaper agony aunt's column? On a reality show on the television? My God, it's degrading to use the word love about stuff like that. You really are a stupid cow sometimes, Lin, honestly you are. For someone with your brains you do talk a load of immature rubbish. Even for your age you've always been immature. Now you've come face to face with real life and its horrors for the first time and you can't handle it, can you?'
'Well, have you ever had anyone you loved murdered?' I asked her. 'Did you find their dead body and then have to face the cops asking you all kinds of stupid questions?'
'Of course I haven't,' said Mum. 'I know it must have been terrible for you to find that poor girl murdered. But you're my daughter, Lin, and I have to worry about you. You don't know what a strain it is bringing up children. Maybe when you become a mother yourself one day you'll think more kindly of me.'
I knew she meant well and I even knew she really did love me. It was just that I couldn't handle all her fucking morality right now. I just knew what she was going to say to me – don't sleep around, don't get into bad company, don't drink, don't smoke, don't do drugs, in fact, don't do just about every single thing I was doing right now.
Maybe she was even right about them but all I knew is she was doing my head in and I didn't need her Bible lectures when all I felt was an emptiness inside where Meg had been before. All the love we'd had for each other had filled our hearts to bursting and it hurt like crazy to feel nothing at all inside me anymore. My heart was a dead zone right now, numb and cold as the North Pole. How was I going to be able to feel ever again?
'Did you tell the gavers about me and Meg?' I asked her.
'Of course not,' she said angrily. 'I can't tell them what I don't know, can I? I only knew what you'd told me – that you were her friend, that you used to go to the woods together, that you found her body. It was DC Conway who told me about her sexual – activities. That was when I started wondering about you. I didn't say anything but I knew somehow that you were just stupid and crazy and immature enough to get involved in something sick and degenerate like that.'
I screamed and yelled at her when she said that. How I stopped myself from hitting her I still don't understand.
'You've got no right to call what me and Meg had sick and degenerate! You don't even – you didn't even know her! She was a wonderful person, and what the two of us had was love. Maybe you don't like the idea of your precious daughter being a fucking dyke, and maybe I'm not even a lezzy really anyhow. How do you know the truth isn't that I got the love from Meg I never got from you?'
I shouldn't have said that last bit. Mum broke down in enough tears to start a new branch of the Atlantic Ocean. As soon as I'd said it I wished I hadn't.
'I'm sorry, Mum, I didn't mean it,' I said quickly.
'Yes you did,' she snapped at me through her tears. 'Do you honestly think I don't love you? How could you think something like that? My God, why does anyone have any children? You were a burden I carried around inside me for nine months without complaining, and I can still remember how overjoyed I was when you were born and I held you in my arms. I still remember breastfeeding you and how greedy you were for my milk. Have you any idea of the bond something like that creates between a mother and her daughter? No, of course you haven't, though if you ever become a mother yourself you might understand me a bit better. Anyway, none of that makes any difference now. I suppose we'll have to deal with what's gone on in the best way we can. What other secrets are you keeping from me, Linda?'
I know it was wrong of me but I just couldn't bring myself to give a truthful answer to that one. If she only knew just how much trouble I was in – and had been for the last couple of years – she'd go ballistic on me. My life wouldn't be worth living and I'd be on more or less permanent curfew. And I certainly didn't want that. There was no way I could possibly tell her all the stuff I'd been getting up to the last couple o years. No way at all. It'd be like cutting my own throat if I did that.
'OK,' I said finally, 'I know you do love me, Mum. I know I must be a worry to you sometimes but I'm not that much of a tearaway. Yeah, I've slept around a bit, I admit, with both boys and girls; maybe I have had the odd drink or two. Maybe I do have the occasional fag and all, but I could be a lot worse, you know. I'm not a slapper whatever you might think and I haven't done anything really bad. I suppose you and Dad are going to ground me for months now but if you trust me I promise I won't let you down. Honest I won't.'
It was all a bunch of bullshit, of course, and I knew it was while I was telling her all this stuff. But I couldn't tell her the half of what I'd really been doing, and if I made out I hadn't been doing nothing she'd know I was lying, so I just told her some of the less bad stuff so she wouldn't know about the big things I'd been doing wrong.
'I'll have to talk to your father when he comes home,' she said finally. 'I don't know what we're going to do about you, Linda. You do seem to have turned into a bit of a troublemaker and I really feel you do need to be – well, guided and restrained, let's say. But I hope that the shock of your – your friend's death – may help you to bring you to your senses. Just think, Linda! How the hell do you think Dad and me would feel if it had been your body that DC Conway had been telling me about – and Dad or I had been forced to go to the woods and look at you lying there murdered? Just how do you think we'd feel if it had been you instead of Megan?'
'Sorry, Mum,' I said, and meant it this time too. 'I promise I'll be dead careful from now on. What are you going to say to Uncle Jimmy?'
'Oh, hell,' said Mum. 'Let's hope it doesn't get out about Megan's lesbianism. Even if it does, we don't have to tell him you were one of her – sexual partners. Jimmy is certainly not the kind of man who would understand behaviour like that – especially from a member of the family. We'll just make out you were close friends and hope he doesn't hear the truth from anyone else.'
'Thanks, Mum. I really appreciate that.'
And I meant it too. I owed Jimmy a lot and he had taught me far more about my Romani heritage than anyone else in the family. If he thought I was what he would call a sexual pervert he'd be cold and distant towards me and I'd never be allowed to share his wonderful stories, songs and poems ever again. I'd never learn any more of the spells he'd taught me, the way to read the cards, the way to track animals and find the plants and herbs you could use for healing, all that kind of stuff. Maybe it was selfish of me to be so dishonest to someone I loved but I also knew that his prejudices would make it impossible for us ever to be close again if he ever found out.
Meanwhile I had to wait till Dad came home. I knew I was grounded at least this evening and I just tried to make the best of it. What else could I do? Anyway, it wasn't such a bad way to spend my time. I had already got the lift I needed from the lines of sulphate I'd taken earlier and I didn't really fancy meeting anyone I knew right now.
The last thing I wanted was more trouble with the gavers already asking me too many questions about Meg and her death. And if I hung out with my mates that would definitely bring the coppers down on me double quick. Best to lie low for a while and see if things blew over.
Tomorrow was going to be another day. Maybe I'd feel different then. If not, well, I'd just have to start thinking things out. I knew I ought to be making plans right now but somehow my head was still too full of the sight of Meg's murdered body for me to be able to think straight at all, still less start making plans.
All I knew was there was an empty space inside my heart where once I'd been full of overwhelming love for Meg. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to fill that gap again.
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Post by Hunny on Sept 21, 2012 13:19:50 GMT
I hope you don't mind a comment here. I really enjoyed that! Where's the rest?
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Post by Big Lin on Sept 21, 2012 23:45:36 GMT
Thanks for the kind words, Hunny. Here's Chapter Two. I've written quite a few more chapters but it's a long way off finished yet.
Chapter Two
Like I'd expected, Dad was a lot more understanding about what had gone on than Mum. I knew he wasn't happy when she told him I'd not only been sleeping around with blokes but had also had a lesbian relationship with Meg but at least he didn't call me names or make accusations like Mum had.
'It must have been a terrible thing for you, Lin,' he said quietly. 'I understand from what your mother's said that you had – a very close relationship with the girl. We will have to move on from that point. The past is best left in the shadows sometimes. What we need to do now is be strong for you, to be sure. We brought you into the world and we'll always love you and be there for you.'
'I know that, Dad,' I sobbed. 'I'm sorry I've been such a pain and so much trouble to both of you. I will try harder, I promise.'
'Away with you!' Dad laughed. 'There are worse things you could have been than just a teenage girl who slept around a bit. You could have been on drugs, or you could have been a criminal, or you could have been in a gang. At least you've spared us those things.'
God, if only he knew the truth! I was every one of those things – a drug user, a juvenile delinquent and a gang member. How the hell was I going to get out of the fix I was in? Telling the truth was certainly not an option.
'I am sorry, honestly,' I said instead. 'I know I haven't always done the right thing and I really wish I had but I will try to be a good girl, honest I will.'
'Well, maybe what's happened has opened your eyes a bit,' said Dad. 'I know you've always been a rebel but I've never thought you were bad at heart, Lin.'
I felt so ashamed at all the love and understanding he was pouring out on me. I knew I didn't deserve it. Once again I dissolved in a flood of tears and hugged both my parents. God, how was I going to be able to get through my life now? The only good and true thing in it had been my love for Meg. Now she was gone, and much as I loved Mum and Dad I could never feel the same about them.
Maybe one day I'd find a boy I could love and settle down like Mum had with Dad. If I could find the right man he might lead me away from the trouble I was in and help me to be a good person instead of the mixed-up bitch I was right now. But until that happened I'd have to tread very carefully. I really couldn't see how I was going to change my life on my own. And, of course, I hoped that Meg's killer would soon be caught.
I didn't know what I felt about that side of it either. As a natural rebel I had always been instinctively against the death penalty. Now, having looked at Meg's murdered body lying on the cold hard ground, suddenly I wasn't so sure any more.
I knew that the new British government had recently reintroduced capital punishment though so far no one had actually been even sentenced to death, let alone executed.
How did I feel about the idea of executing the murderer of my dear Meg? For the first time in my life, I began to ask myself if it wasn't really the only just sentence for the man who had stolen the love of my life away from me and banished her from earth for eternity. How could it be wrong to execute a man like that? But I still wasn't sure.
The evening came and went, and I slept as fitfully as I had the night before. It was going to be hard to get through the pain but somehow I knew that I had to try. It was no good just dosing myself up on whizz and blow, I knew. Yes, they'd make me feel better for a while but then you come back to reality again. Somehow I hated the world with a vicious passion that I'd never felt before.
Next day was Friday, and at least I'd be free of school for two blessed days. Facing the other kids was almost the hardest thing I had to do other than hide away my tears and stifle the grief that was weighing down my heart.
That morning I just couldn't concentrate on lessons at all. I shivered inside, not only with the February cold, as I tried to get through the rest of the day in the hateful school where I felt like an animal in a zoo. Everyone wanted to be my friend or at least to know me. They all asked about when I'd found Meg, and a couple of sick bastards even asked if I'd filmed her dead body on my mobile phone. How low can you get?
At last it was time to knock off. I knew that Mum had arranged to pick me up in the car and I knew she'd ground me for ages after all the stuff that had gone on between us yesterday. I stood at the gate, waiting for her to come, and then, miracle of miracles, she didn't come. Instead it was my Uncle Jimmy who drove up in his car and gave me a not too unfriendly wave.
'Hi, Jimmy,' I called out.
'Get in,' he said curtly, but there was a slight smile on his face.
'Where's Mum? She said she was coming to pick me up today?'
'I persuaded her it was a better idea if I did it,' he said. 'We need to talk, Lin, you realise that, don't you?'
'Yes, Jimmy, if you like. Talk about what?'
'OK, there's two things. I live by one way, the law of the brothers. Your Mum lives by the gadje code. But she understands how important the leis-prala is to you, and she's let me have you for a couple of hours.'
'What's happening?'
'You'll find out soon enough,' said Jimmy. 'It'll help you be at peace with yourself and it'll let your friend's spirit find peace as well. That's what we all want, after all.'
'So where are we going?'
'To the woods, of course. Don't ask questions; just do what I tell you. It's not the first time I've done stuff like this, you know. And whatever I tell you to do, even if you think it's absolutely dilli, just do it. You got that?'
'Yes, of course.'
Then we drove the short distance to the woods that until recently had been a place of peace and happiness for me and Meg. Those days were over for good, of course, and I wondered what exactly he was up to in taking me there at all, but he'd told me not to ask questions so I kept my mouth shut.
At last we came to the very spot where I'd found Meg's murdered body lying on the ground. I looked at him anxiously, wondering what he was up to and why he had brought me here of all places. My lips were on fire with questions and protests, but I held my peace as he'd told me. Walking over to the very place, he stepped to one side and plucked some flowers. He gave one bunch to me and held the other himself.
'O Divvel, we wish to honour a flower too early plucked from this earth of yours. We bring you flowers in memory of one who was fresh and fragrant in the time of her return to the earth from which we all come. Let us strew with flowers the path of one whose life was cut short before she could blossom into her full strength and beauty.'
He paused a moment, while I, already spellbound and uplifted by his words, waited to see what would happen next.
'Let her have untroubled rest, and let the mulos not come near her. We cast these snowdrops upon her bed of sleep, that the narkri yok may not harm her even in her changed state. Though she be moarte, yet shall tiri shaia live! She who was gentle as a lamb in this world, let her be a preterai in the next one.'
Jimmy pointed to the flowers in my hand, and I quickly copied his gesture as he threw them on to the very spot where her earthly body had last rested. Two bunches of snowdrops covered Meg's last resting place.
Then Jimmy stood, head bowed, tears in his eyes, and spoke the ancient Romani blessing for the dead.
'Te soves misto,' he said quietly.
'Te soves misto,' I said after him.
Then we both cried over the spot where we'd commemorated and celebrated the last mortal resting-place of Meg. We knelt in silence for a while and both said prayers, Jimmy in Romanes, me in English. Then we got up, bowed to her spirit and got back into the car. Nothing was said for the next ten minutes or so.
'Her spirit is at peace now,' Jimmy told me, 'and hopefully the same peace will be yours now.'
'Thank you, Jimmy,' I said. 'That really helped me. I still feel the grief and pain in my heart but at least I feel I've touched Meg's spirit with my own. She was a gadje, but she really was a latsho mushi. Thank you for doing that.'
'Now there's just one more thing needs to be done.'
'What's that?' I asked, genuinely puzzled.
'When a soul leaves its body, the one who loved it on earth has to give up one of the pleasures their beloved enjoyed during their life.'
'But I don't understand! What do you mean?'
Jimmy looked at me with a cool and faintly disapproving expression on his face. For a moment I thought he was going to get angry with me.
'You know, Lin, I don't judge you the same as I judge your Mum or your Dad. Your Dad is a gadje and he follows the gadje ways. He's an honourable man according to the gadje code and I respect him for that. Your Mum is full Romani and she still follows the old ways of the brothers in her heart even though she'd never admit it. You are a chavi torn between two worlds, the Romani world and the gadje ways. If your mother had done what you did there could be no forgiveness for her from me. You, though, I have to understand that you are half-gadje, half-Romni. Your soul will always be torn between two worlds and because of that I have to make allowances for you that I would never make for Sara. I know what you and your friend were to each other, Lin. Give it up now, I beg you. Let there be no more of these loves between women. Man and woman were made for each other, and man with man or woman with woman is an abomination and an offence against nature. In the old days we would root out such people ruthlessly if we found them among our tribe. Now I can only ask you to give up this lesbian love of yours. Your friend's spirit has left this earth and you must honour her soul by making her the last of all such relationships. Do you swear by God, Linda?'
I was in tears. How could he think that I'd want another lover after what Meg and I had been to each other? All the same, I knew that Jimmy was a wise man, maybe not in book learning or university degrees, but in the ways of life. I nodded my head sadly.
'I swear by Almighty God that I will never again do with another woman what I did with my dear friend. I will honour her memory for the rest of my life but I will never again do as I did with her. I swear to God!' We came back home at last, and as soon as I went inside I rushed up to Mum and gave her a big hug.
'Thank you, Mum,' I said. 'I'm sorry for being such a pain and I really do love you!'
'I love you too, Linda,' Mum almost whispered back.
I could swear for a moment I felt some tears in her eyes but maybe I was just imagining it. Anyway, what Jimmy had done today helped me a lot to put the ghost of Meg to rest. Of course she'd always be in my heart and soul, and I'd probably never stop grieving for her loss, but I did feel a lifting of my own spirit. Somehow I knew I'd be able to stay strong. What would really help now was if they could catch the killer.
Maybe it was time for me to talk to that lady cop again. What was her name, Conway? Yes, maybe I ought to tell her a bit more than I had up to now. Oh, it wasn't so much that I knew anything but maybe I could have helped her out a bit more.
Like Jimmy said, I'm half-gadje, half-Romni, and the gadje side of my blood was telling me I had to help the gavers catch Meg's killer. I reluctantly decided to break the rule of a lifetime and see if I could.
After the emotion of the funeral service for Meg I passed a quiet evening on Friday. On Saturday morning I amazed Mum when I turned to her and, right out of the blue, asked her if she could fetch the lady cop over.
'You've changed your tune,' she said sharply. 'Were you lying to her before?'
'No, I wasn't lying, Mum, but maybe I could have been more helpful. It's very important that we catch this piece of shit before he kills anyone else. I want to help in any way I can.'
'All right, I'll call her,' Mum sighed. 'But you'd better not mess me about!'
'I'm not messing anyone about anymore, Mum. I really want to help.'
'If that's want you want, I'll do it.'
So I sat down and waited for her to arrive. She came in like before with the older bloke and this time I thought I'd better be more careful about what I said. The first time I was numb with grief and shock; then I was pissed off because here was some fucking cop trying to poke into the secrets of my private life and make even the wonderful love I'd known with Meg sound somehow dirty.
'DI Turner, DS Conway,' Mum introduced them both again.
'Hello, Linda,' said the lady copper. 'How are you feeling now?'
I sighed. It wasn't easy to give an honest answer to that question.
'A bit better than I was, I suppose,' I said finally. 'I'm just beginning to get over it might be a fair description. But somehow I reckon I won't ever get over it really.'
'I think you're right,' the lady cop surprised me by saying. 'In my experience the act of murder has a devastating and lifelong impact on the loved ones of the victims.'
I gave her a cool look then. Was she meaning something by that or was it just me getting paranoid about the gavers? Either way, I suppose now Jimmy knew and he'd said I was forgiven, that was OK. Or was it? I suddenly remembered that I was still not yet 16 and maybe I'd committed a crime by having underage sex. I didn't know what the rules on lezzy sex were but I was pretty sure that gay blokes who did it underage were in deep shit. I'd better watch my mouth, I decided.
'So, er, Linda,' the man cop said, 'what exactly was it you wanted to tell us?'
'Well, it's not like I'm a witness or nothing like that, but obviously I was too much in a state before now to be able to talk much about poor Meg. Maybe the best thing would be if you was to ask me questions and I'll answer them.'
The bloke, Turner, then looked at Conway and obviously wanted her to start off my interrogation. She gave me a smile that looked almost genuine and then began.
'You can call me Lisa if you like,' she said. 'Please tell me everything you can about the day you found Megan dead.'
'What can I say? I started off just like an ordinary day, and then I went off to the woods because I'd had a row with Mum.'
'What about?'
'What difference does that make?' I asked her angrily. 'Mum and me row all the time. It don't mean nothing. We still love each other even if we do have fights.'
'Sorry, I just wondered if it might have been relevant.'
'Well, it weren't relevant,' I told her firmly. 'I just went out to the woods because I always find peace there. Well, until that day, anyhow.'
'And what happened when you went there? Were you expecting to find Megan?'
'Not expecting, exactly, but she often went there. Usually we'd go together, but sometimes we'd arrange to meet up or just go there on our own.'
'And did you have any regular meeting points?'
I hesitated a bit before answering that one. I didn't want the coppers to know about the way I'd put Uncle Jimmy's knowledge of the Romani ways to my own uses. In the end I just thought, what the hell difference did it make anyhow? It weren't no crime to pen the patrin, was it?
'We had a few,' I said in the end, deciding that I'd lie about our secret signs and ways of arranging assignations.
'And was where you found Megan's body one of them?'
'Yes, it was.'
Then the man copper chimed in.
'Please tell us everything you can remember, Linda. Especially the sequence of events that day, the position you found things, anything like that.'
'OK. Where do you want me to start?'
'You said before that when you found the body you checked for signs of life.'
'Yeah, that's right.'
'And what position was Megan lying in when you found her?'
'On her side.'
'Left or right?'
'Right side.'
'Did you see any blood?'
'Yes, of course I did. The poor girl had just been murdered.'
The lady copper chipped in then.
'Could you see at once she was dead?'
'Pretty much. I could see she'd had her throat cut and I don't reckon many people can survive that.'
'Did you notice any other injuries?'
'Well, she looked like she'd been bashed about a bit and all, round the face, like. I didn't really spend a lot of time looking, to be honest. I just felt so sick and angry and sad I could hardly think. All I wanted was to get out of there but I knew I had to call 999 first.'
'When you touched Megan's body, did you get blood on your clothes?'
'I suppose so. Can't say that was the first thing on my mind at the time.'
'No, of course not. Do you still have those clothes?'
'I dunno. Mum?'
Mum looked at the Conway woman curiously. I wondered what she was thinking about all this. Maybe Mum reckoned I was the one had done Meg in. Christ, fancy your own mother thinking you might be a murderer!
'I'm afraid any clothes Linda was wearing at that time would long since have been washed, DS Conway,' said Mum.
Now I didn't show any reaction to that but I knew Mum was lying. She only ever done the washing at weekends and she certainly hadn't washed my gear just yet. What the hell was she lying about something like that for? The stupid cow must really believe the coppers think it's me!
'Pity. There might have been some useful evidence on them. Still, it can't be helped. Did you see any sign of a struggle in the woods?'
'Yes, I reckon Meg must have put up a bit of a fight because the grass was all scuffed round where her body was, like she'd been; putting up a real struggle. Course, she was the type of girl would have done that.'
'Was she violent?'
'What, Meg?' I almost laughed. 'She was the kindest, sweetest person you could ever want to meet. It's just – well, two things really.'
'What two things were they, Linda?'
The Conway cop leaned forward eagerly, like I was going to come out with some stunning revelation or stuff like that.
'First off,' I said firmly, 'no girl in her right mind wants to get raped. So of course we both learned self-defence. Second,' and I sighed as I realised I was going to have to tell these two coppers the truth about our relationship, 'she was smeg allergic.'
Turner looked baffled when I said that, but Conway actually had a smile on her face. Good cop, bad cop routine, I supposed.
'What on earth do you mean by that?' he asked finally.
'I mean she didn't like boys. She preferred girls when it come to sex. So if some perv had tried to do her she'd have been double unwilling, if you see what I mean.'
'And how do you know so much about her sexual preferences?'
'That's easy. Me and her was lovers, that's how.'
Turner just looked at Conway and she took over the questions again. I guess I'd either shocked him or maybe he was just a homophobic copper.
'So you were lovers, Linda?' she prompted me again.
'That's what I said.'
'I see,' she said quietly. 'That's very interesting, Linda. Was there any – resentment, let's say ¬– on the part of the boys about her – sexuality?'
'What, you mean was she killed because she was a les? I don't reckon none of the boys from school would have done nothing like that. Though I suppose you can't ever be sure about stuff.'
Conway gave me a funny look. She gazed at the male copper and he nodded. It was obvious he was going to let her ask most of the questions.
'What you've just said is very interesting. It might even supply a motive for murder, in fact.'
'How do you mean?'
'Well,' she said, 'generally it's the good looking girls who get pounced on by the nonces and rapists and perverts. But Megan was rather plain, running to fat, short and dumpy and certainly not the type that would generally be picked on by these people.'
'You leave her alone!' I shouted. 'I don't care about stuff like that! She had a wonderful heart, and she loved me and I loved her back. Who the hell cares about looks? It's what's inside a person that really counts.'
'I agree,' she surprised me by saying. 'But then I'm not a paedophile or rapist, so I don't think with their twisted logic. My gut feeling is that it may well have been Megan's sexuality that led to her death. Are you a gay woman yourself, Linda?'
I shrugged because I honestly didn't know the answer to that question.
'Dunno, really. I mean, I've had boyfriends, and I've had sex with them – you know, blowjobs, screwing and all that. But I never had such good sex as I did with Meg and I never loved any boy the way I loved her. She was a special person and she meant the world to me.'
'And how do you feel about the person who killed her?'
I made a fist then out of my righteous anger. I knew bloody well how I felt about whatever piece of shit had done that.
'If I got my hands on them,' I said truthfully, 'I'd beat the living daylights out of them until they was dead. I wouldn't let them live after what they done to Meg.'
'I see,' said Conway. 'And you honestly don't have any idea who might have wanted to kill her?'
'If I did I'd be out there hunting them down and killing them myself,' I said.
The lady copper gave me a funny look when I said that. I could tell she was almost halfway human compared with her boss.
'Oh, Linda, you mustn’t think like that. You have to let the law take its course and let us arrest and charge the person who did this.'
'Yeah, and then what? They go up before the judge and get a slap on the wrists, that's all. They'll do, what, maybe 15-25 years in the nick and then they're out again. What about Meg? She's gone for ever and there's never going to be any justice for her. Not in my book, anyhow.'
'So you'd like to see her killer executed if he's convicted?'
I sighed when she asked me that. How the hell did I know? I'd always been an anti when it come to the death penalty. Now things didn't seem so clear anymore.
'Dunno, really. I suppose I don't really believe in the death penalty but it has made me wonder. Basically I reckon most of us could kill in hot blood. I know I've got a temper and I could easily see myself murdering someone if I lost my rag. Could I do it in cold blood, like I suppose you'd have to if you was an executioner? Dunno.'
'Well, that's a very honest answer, Linda,' she said. 'I'd like to move on now if you don't mind. Please tell me if she had any special jewellery she liked to wear.'
I couldn't think of any in particular. OK, Meg sometimes wore a bit of bling but most of the time she never bothered about stuff like that. After all, she was what you might call the butch one in our relationship and I was the feminine one, the one who always wore make-up and jewels and high-heeled shoes and lipstick and stuff.
'Can't say as I can recall anything like that. It wasn't really her, somehow. I was the one that liked to dress all feminine. She was a bit of a tomboy, I suppose.'
'I see. Well, thank you very much, Linda. You've been most helpful.'
She nodded to her boss – I suppose to see if he had any more questions he wanted to ask me. Maybe my crack about Meg being smeg allergic had made him feel sick or something, but he just looked like all he wanted was to get out of the place fast. Which suited me just fine, as it happened.
I was still wondering what made Mum lie about the washing. Surely she didn't reckon I'd murder Meg? How could I ever hurt someone I loved as much as her? I knew it was impossible. There was no way and I couldn't believe she really thought that badly of me. Christ, even I had some limits to what I'd do!
When the two of them were gone, I turned to Mum and stared at her hard. I was wondering what had made her lie to the two coppers. Was it just her Romani blood suddenly reasserting itself and making her tell porkies to the gavers out of some sort of reflex action? Or was there some other reason behind it?
'What was that all about, Mum? Why did you lie to the coppers about the washing?'
Mum just looked at me and burst into tears. I didn't know what was eating her but I had to know if she figured me for a murderer. If she did then that was it as far as I was concerned. I could take her slagging me off over a lot of stuff but not that. If she could think I'd really murder Meg – the woman I loved more than life itself – then I'd had it with her altogether. She could kiss goodbye to her 'wayward daughter' for good.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 22, 2012 17:11:44 GMT
It's really coming along, Big Lin. Keep up the good work.
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Post by Big Lin on Sept 23, 2012 14:28:49 GMT
Thanks, Deyana. I'll post chapter three and see how that goes!
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Post by Big Lin on Sept 23, 2012 14:45:53 GMT
Chapter Three
Monday back at school was another ordeal I had to go through. How I wished I could leave the hateful place! Suddenly it didn't seem to matter that I had my exams coming up in a few months and that Mum had been fast-tracking me to uni in her head for years. I just couldn't see the point of anything now. Not since Meg was dead, anyway.
My whole life seemed completely hollow and meaningless and I just went through the motions in lessons. When it was time to go, I walked out of the school gates feeling like I'd just got out of prison. It was terrible having to pretend, to put on a brave face to the world, when all the time I was just falling apart inside. Oh yeah, that big Lin's tough, she can handle it. That's all they know. I couldn't hack any of it right now and I just couldn't get my head round all the stuff I was supposed to learn for my GCSEs. What was the fucking point of anything now? Meg was dead, and the light had gone out of my life for good. How was I ever going to be able to feel anything ever again?
I walked along the side turnings, not wanting to go the direct way as I usually did. Basically I just wanted to kill time. I felt like that about everything I did right now. It was all the same to me whatever I did and nothing seemed to mean anything anymore.
As I passed the ugly concrete sculpture that marked the end of one seemingly endless road interchange, I saw a few of my mates just hanging about in the nearby underpass. I guessed they were scoring some dope and stopped a bit for a chat. Then I walked on, still feeling no better even though I'd joined them in a hit of draw. Even the blow I'd just smoked didn't do as much for me as usual. Mind you, I had some skunk at home. That was a lot stronger than what I'd just smoked under the bridge.
I remembered to spray my mouth with the stuff my Dad had bought in the chemist yesterday before I went back home. I'd hardly been in before Mum told me the bad news.
'That DS Conway was on the phone to me just now,' she said. 'She wants to know how you're feeling.'
'I feel like shit, of course,' I told her truthfully. 'How does she think I feel?'
Mum sighed when I said that. I suppose it wasn't fair of me to take it out on her. As soon as I'd opened my mouth I realised that I shouldn't have behaved like that.
'Sorry, Mum.' I said. 'I know it's been hard for you too. I just got angry because it's such a stupid fucking question. Of course I shouldn't have it in for you. I know you've always been there for me and you know I love you too. Even if I don't always show it.'
Mum's eyes filled up with tears again when I said that. I was really seeing the more vulnerable and emotional side of her lately. To be honest, I quite liked that. Then she got right back on her high horse again.
'Sometimes I feel like washing your mouth out with soap and water!' she shouted. 'Your language is disgusting! Why, when I was your age...'
I switched off when she started coming up with the 'when I was your age' crap. I always knew it was going to end up with 'girls didn't do this when I was your age and neither should you.' Somehow I just felt that even in her days there must have been loads of girls that got drunk, took drugs and slept around. Wasn't she a teenager in what they used to call the 'swinging sixties?' Hadn't I heard about all these weird parties they had in those days – what did they call them, 'pot parties,' where they used to smoke dope? Didn't they have things called 'love-ins' and didn't they strip naked in public, have sex in the road, all that sort of stuff?
Well, maybe Mum just didn't do things like that, though I must admit I found it hard to believe a woman as beautiful as her wouldn't have had a string of blokes who wanted her. I also know she liked her drink, and couldn't believe she hadn't had the odd drunken binge in her time. About the drugs I couldn't be sure. I knew Uncle Jimmy was a big user and still took draw and whizz regularly. If it comes to that I even knew he was a pusher. I'd been known to get my supplies from him some of the time though mostly I got the stuff from my own regular dealers.
'So I want you to pull yourself together, Linda,' said Mum angrily, as I forced myself to listen to her rant again. 'It's about time you tried to make something of your life. You've got your GCSEs coming up and you know you've not got much time left. If you don't work hard you might not get good grades and you might not get into a good university.' I wanted to scream when she said that. My whole world had collapsed around me and she was going on about fucking uni. For a minute I almost hit her, and then I just dissolved into tears instead.
'Oh Mum, how can I think about things like exams and uni when I feel like my whole life's over? Don't you have any idea of how cold and lonely I am inside? Do you think having someone you love murdered is like getting over a cold? I can't feel anything right now, don't you understand? I just feel empty and worthless and like nothing matters anymore. I might as well be dead. Why can't you see that, Mum? Why is it always about what you want and about how you feel or want me to behave? I just wish – just for once in your life – you'd think about how I feel for a change.'
Now it was Mum's turn for the waterworks to come out. A whole flood of tears flew out of her eyes, enough to launch a boat on the Severn, I reckoned. 'How could you?' she shouted through her sobbing. 'I've spent the last fifteen years of my life putting you before myself – even before your father. And you have the nerve to call me selfish and unfeeling!'
I was just thinking about what to say to that when Dad came in. It was brilliant timing – another minute or two and we'd probably have been beating the shit out of each other. Or at least screaming like demented alley cats fighting over a queen.
'What is it with you two?' he said, summing up the situation at once. 'Do you have to be at each other's throats every time I'm out the wee house? How the hell am I supposed to feel going off to work knowing that when I get back I'll be returning to a lunatic asylum? Jesus, Sara, when I married you I never thought you was an eejut. At least young Lin's got some excuse for the way she carries on. For God's sake, she's just had her – friend – brutally murdered. You didn't even know her, woman! Give the girl some space – and let's all of us try to get this back to a proper family again.'
Mum and me looked at Dad and then at each other. We both calmed down at once and I made the first move.
'Sorry, Mum. I really can't take much right now.'
'I know, darling. I'm sorry I lost my temper with you.'
'That's much better,' said Dad. 'Now just settle down and I'll see about doing us all something to eat.'
Mum gave him a guilty look when he said that.
'Oh, it's OK, Lou, I'll do the meal. You just sit down and take it easy.'
So Mum went into the kitchen and bustled about making the evening meal. Dad just sat down, looked at the evening paper and didn't say a word. I knew he was trying to let me have some space and I was grateful to him for that.
'I had a wee word with your Uncle Jimmy today,' he said finally. 'He called me at work and told me he was worried about you. Your Mum's been telling him how you are lately, so she has, and he thought I might be able to talk to you – more easily. Now one thing I do know, lass, is you can't go on either bottling everything up inside you or ranting and raving at your Mum all the time. Do you know the girl's parents? Or was it just her?'
'No, I went round her home a lot,' I told him. 'I've been thinking about them a lot lately. Every day I've been wondering if I ought to go round and see them. Then I think would it make them feel worse if I did. I just don't know what to do for the best, Dad. The last thing I want to do is add to their pain. If I feel dead inside they must feel a thousand times worse than me. It was their daughter, after all. I can't even imagine how much grief and pain they must be going through right now.'
'Ay, it's a tough call, Linda. It's one that only you can make but I know that in time you'll have to go and see them. Maybe they will tell you to go away because they don't want to face you or anyone right now. Maybe they won't. I don't know how it must be for them and I hope I never find out. But she was your – friend – and I think you owe it to them to at least try to visit.'
'I know, Dad. You're absolutely right. I'm such a coward about it but the last thing I want to do is maybe hurt them even more. Like you say, it must be terrible for them. If I can hardly keep going they must feel like their whole life has ended. God, what am I going to do, Dad? I just wish I knew the answer. I prayed last night and I'm still waiting for God to tell me what to do.'
Dad sighed. He knew that for someone as rebellious as me to actually say a prayer meant that I must really be in a bad way.
'Oh, Lin, you're a good girl really. You've just got yourself all mixed up the last couple of years. Maybe it's your hormones or something. I don't know. All I will say is you don't seem like the girl you were when you were thirteen. You're going to turn sixteen in April. You'll be old enough to leave school, get a job, things like that. I know Mum and I would like you to go to university but if you really feel you can't handle that it doesn't matter. We only want you to be happy, Lin. That matters to us more than all the other stuff. Yes, it would be grand if you could be the first one in the family to get a degree but we'll love you just the same if you're a checkout girl in Tesco's or a barmaid in the local pub, so we will. If you want to leave school this summer we won't mind, you know.'
I was very touched by his kind words. Dear old Dad, always saying just the right thing. I'm a lucky girl to have a Dad like him. Mind you, these days I suppose I'm lucky to have a father at all! About half my friends have only got Mums. Some of them don't even know who their Dad is!
Later, after we'd sat down and eaten, I thought a lot about what he'd said. It might be a good idea if I did go and see Meg's parents. I'd always got on well with them and I suppose I did owe it to them to at least tell them how awful I felt about what had happened. The trouble is I knew their grief was going to be so bad that my own feelings might intrude on their own, and that was the last thing I wanted.
I slept better that night, thinking over what Dad had said. I even managed to get through the rest of the evening without having another fight with Mum. Maybe if I just went and talked to Meg's family that might – well, certainly not heal things, but at least get everything out in the open.
Did they know about us? Or were we just close friends in their eyes? I didn't know the answer and I didn't know how to play the meeting that I knew would have to come soon. Would they hate me and despise me if they knew the truth? Or would they understand that another human being had loved their daughter as much as they did?
It was either going to be making their pain much worse or hopefully, by going to them and sharing my own grief, helping both of us. God only knew which way it would go but I knew that I had to do it soon. Tomorrow was another day, after all.
Maybe that would be the right time to talk to them – if there ever is a right time, that is. How can there ever be a right time for something like this? I didn't think there ever would be and I didn't think Meg's parents would ever feel there was either. Oh well, there was no getting round the problem. Soon – very soon –I'd have to visit them.
Tuesday I felt a bit better about things. After Dad's little talk things had improved between me and Mum and I was slowly coming to terms with the fact that I needed to go and see Meg's family. I was dreading it, of course, but I knew that the longer I left it the harder it would be and that it would be totally rude and insensitive of me not to at least see them and tell them how heartbroken I was about her murder.
I still wasn't sure if they knew about the two of us or not. If they did, I had no idea how they'd react when I turned up on their door. They might blame me for getting her killed or something stupid like that. I went over imaginary conversations in my head with her Mum and Dad. In them, her mother screamed at me, called me a dirty lesbian slut who'd led her daughter astray and was probably responsible for getting her murdered. I couldn't blame her if she did feel that way even though it wasn't true. All I knew was that the longer I left it the harder it got to do it at all, and that if I didn't go and see them I'd feel like I'd betrayed the woman I loved.
After school I made my way across to where they lived. I was nervous as hell, of course, and had no idea what sort of reception I'd get, but I had no choice. Today was no better than tomorrow and I couldn't leave it any longer. I'd scored a few lines of sulphate that day and made sure I drank them in a glass of water before I went on my journey in search of – what? Forgiveness? Redemption? I didn't know myself what it was I actually wanted, not just from them but from God and everyone else.
Ringing the doorbell made me feel awful, but I had to do it. There was a long silence that must have lasted at least a couple of minutes before Mr. White came to the door and stood there staring at me.
'Oh, it's you,' he said. 'I suppose I was hoping it might be the police with some news about the case. Probably too early to expect them to arrest anyone yet. Still, you live in hope. What else have we got to live for?'
I burst into tears when he said that. I felt so guilty and ashamed about going round and intruding on their private grief. But what could I do? I loved Megan too.
'I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Mr. White,' I said. 'I'll go away if you want me to. I can come back any time you like. But it wouldn't have been right if I hadn't – well, come round and told you how sorry I am. I didn't want to intrude but honestly, I had to come.'
He looked at me for a moment and then looked away. I could see there was some kind of inner conflict going on. Half of him wanted to blame me for Meg's death and the other half wanted to share his grief with someone he knew had truly cared about his daughter. I realised then that the family did know about me and Meg.
'Who's that, John?' I heard a woman's voice calling from upstairs.
'It's Linda McGrath,' he said quietly.
'Oh,' said Mrs. White.
Then everything went quiet for a minute while he was obviously thinking about what to do. In the end he just stared at the floor and opened the door wider.
'I suppose you'd better come in, Linda,' he said.
'Thanks.'
He looked around helplessly, neither one of us quite knowing what to say to each other. In the end he fell back on that great British standby.
'Would you like a cup of tea?'
'Only if it's not too much trouble,' I said. 'How are you both?'
'How is anyone in our situation?' he said bitterly. 'We both feel as if our life is over. I know we've got two more children and we have to try to be strong for them but we'll never get over Megan's murder. It's destroyed our whole world. People keep saying they understand how we feel but they don't. Nobody understands that. I know they mean well when they say that but it doesn't help. Nothing anyone says or does makes any difference. That's the terrible thing, you know. Even if they catch the one who – did this to our daughter there'll never be any closure for us. We're just going to spend the rest of our lives in a constant state of misery and there will always be a vast emptiness inside our hearts now that Megan's gone. Nobody understands.'
I looked at him and felt an instinctive desire to hug him and let out my own tears to keep his grief company. Somehow I wasn't sure if he'd appreciate that so I held back and just listened. He looked at me sadly and I felt more guilty than ever about having intruded on their heartache.
'Would you like me to go, Mr. White?' I asked. 'I know it's been a dreadful time for you and your family. I wasn't at all sure if I should even come at all but I had to see you and tell you how sad I am.'
Just then I heard his wife coming down the stairs. She looked awful and I saw at once that she was on some sort of sedative. Prozac, Seroxat, something like that.
'Linda,' she said, 'I wondered if you'd come.'
'I did wonder myself if I should,' I told her. 'I've wanted to for days but I was scared it might make things worse for you.'
'Worse?' she said. 'How could anything be worse than this? I know you and Megan were – close, and I don't approve of what you got up to but I think I've gone beyond worrying about morality by now. If it wasn't for our other children I think I'd have killed myself by now. What's the point in going on? Poor Megan is dead, and I have to keep on living. But thank you for taking the time to come round and see me. Even though I didn't approve of your – relationship I still know that you were almost like a sister to her.'
'I loved her,' I said truthfully. 'I loved her more than anyone I've ever known. She was everything to me.'
Mrs. White burst into tears when I said that. She sat down on the settee and I felt guilty again for saying something that might have upset her.
'Thank you for that, Linda,' she said. 'I know that you are the only person outside this family who understands what we are going through. Believe me, I mean it when I say I'm glad you took the time and trouble to visit us.'
'Thanks, Mrs. White.'
Mr. White stood around helplessly, not sure what to do. His wife looked at him and then back at me.
'Please make a cup of tea, John,' she said. 'Would you like one, Linda?'
'If it isn't too much trouble.'
'It's no trouble,' said Mr. White. 'I'll put the kettle on.'
Then she beckoned me over to the settee and I sat down. She looked at me and I knew she wanted to reach out to me. But how? Both of us had hearts frozen to solid ice blocks right now. We could hardly feel anything – the shared pain and grief of our loss had numbed us and made us incapable of laughter, joy, or even anger. We seemed to move through the world like ghosts or zombies, living yet not living, dead inside but still trapped in our mortal bodies.
Without words being spoken, she reached across and we hugged each other. Nothing passed between us except a boundless flow of anguish and love for our dear departed Meg. Mr. White came in and saw us cuddling up to each other on the sofa and just set the teacups down on the coffee table and sat down on the armchair. He left the two of us alone, sharing our love for Meg, and when we finally let go he gave me a strange look that was almost like a smile.
'I'm so pleased you came, Linda,' said Mrs. White. 'I'm really happy that you and Megan were – so close.'
'Thanks, Mrs. White. I only wish I could do something to help you both.'
'You have helped me, Linda. Just by coming here today and – and doing what you did you've helped me a little. Of course things will never be the same for any of us, but then you know that yourself, don't you?'
'Yes, I know that,' I almost whispered. 'Maybe one day we'll be able to cope with what's happened, but we'll never get over it.'
Mrs. White blinked back her tears and handed me a cup of tea.
'You're a good girl really, Linda. I know you truly – loved my daughter, and I know her death has affected you badly. Let's just hope they catch the – the man who did it. Mind you, even if they do, what's he going to get? Fifteen, maybe twenty years in prison if we're lucky. We're the ones left serving a life sentence. I wish we still had capital punishment in Britain.'
Once again my instinctive 'anti' stance on the death penalty was challenged by the reality of a brutal and senseless murder. I still felt that executing even a killer like the one who'd done in Meg was wrong but I could understand how 'pros' felt about the death penalty, and I'd never really been able to see their point of view before.
Now, for the first time in my life, I was beginning to wonder if maybe the people who said the death penalty was the only appropriate punishment for murder just might be right. I certainly knew that if I came across the bloke who'd killed Meg I'd be well capable of knocking him off myself. I was choked with rage and hatred whenever I thought about that bastard.
'How long were you and Megan – you know...'
'What, lovers? About two years.'
'How did it start? Did you make the first move?'
I felt embarrassed talking about all this stuff. That certainly wasn't what I'd been expecting when I turned up to see her family.
'It started off when some kids at school were being nasty too her. Calling her names, that sort of thing. One day a couple of girls cornered her and first of all they was mouthing off at her and then, when she answered them back, started bashing her up. I saw what was happening, steamed in and beat the hell out of both of them. From that moment we was just inseparable. It sounds awful but it really was like love at first sight. I've never known such love as what I found with her. Oh, the sex doesn't – well, didn't, I mean – matter all that much. It was mostly, well, you know, stuff. Kissing, cuddling, fondling, touching each other and bringing each other off, that sort of thing. What mattered was that our hearts felt like twin souls and we gave each other all the love we had to give in the whole world. And now she's gone, and I'm lost and empty and alone, and wondering how I'm ever going to find any point in going on. But then again, compared with what you've had to put up with, I've got nothing to moan and bitch about, have I?'
Mrs. White was very quiet when I'd finished talking. She was obviously going over what I'd said in her mind and I could almost see her fighting between her disgust at the thought that me and Meg had been lovers and yet her feeling that at least I was someone who had actually loved her daughter and felt the loss and pain of her death in a way that was at least – well, you couldn't compare it, really, but she knew that I was devastated and genuinely mourning poor Meg.
'Thank you, Linda,' she said finally. 'I won't ask you about – that sort of thing– again. I'm glad my daughter had you as a friend. Please call me Carol, by the way.'
'You sure?'
'I'm sure,' she said.
So that was how I finally got the guts to go and see Meg's family. I'd been dead scared about how they was going to take me but they were brilliant. Carol and John – as they both told me to call them from now on – said goodbye to me eventually with tears in their eyes. I was crying too and the three of us hugged each other and didn't want to let go.
It was time for me to go home, though, and time for John and Carol to go back into their own private hell. At least I had the support of my parents, and my brother and sister too. The Whites had to give their own son and daughter support as well as trying to cope with the dreadful tragedy that had blighted their lives forever. As I wandered back home I said a prayer to God, asking him to help them get through their time of trouble. Even though I already knew it would last the rest of their lives, I hoped that he could at least lighten their burden in the immediate future.
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Post by Hunny on Sept 23, 2012 15:22:39 GMT
It's quite a story. I'm reading these as fast as you post them, to let you know.
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Post by Big Lin on Sept 23, 2012 16:03:07 GMT
Thanks. I'll post chapter four tomorrow!
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Post by Big Lin on Sept 24, 2012 14:24:18 GMT
Chapter Four
School passed a bit more easily that day. The novelty of the murder had gone stale a bit, and most of the pupils left me pretty much alone. I was grateful to them for that small kindness, though I did rather wish that one or two of my friends had at least made an effort to communicate. They probably wouldn't have got much out of me but it would have been nice just the same.
After school I decided to go for a walk. Not in the woods, of course, which I still couldn't face even after Uncle Jimmy's little funeral service for poor dear Meg. Instead I walked along the open country, not even looking at it, really. Usually I'd be keeping every sense wide open, gazing out for the birds and animals and flowers, but right now I just couldn't make the effort. That seemed to be the story of my life at the moment. I was beginning to wonder if I could even cut it as a check-out girl at Tesco, never mind uni.
Along the bridle-path I saw two riders happily hacking with their two Shetland ponies. Both girls were young, younger than me in fact, about thirteen years old by the look of them. They rode confidently, just content to trot along the bridleway, not even breaking into a canter. I didn't recognise either of them but I couldn't help noticing the happy smiles on their faces as they rode out in the late afternoon. So different from the mournful expression I seemed to wear more or less permanently, to say nothing of the tragic air of utter misery that Carol and John had etched on their faces as if with a burning acid.
Turning off the path, I decided to take a short-cut. I went along through the rear of the industrial estate, knowing that it would bring me to Wayside by the back route. I didn't so much particularly want to go back home as that I couldn't think of anything better to do with myself right now. There was no joy in my life any more, no hope, no love, no fun, no feeling of purpose. Everything was a burden to me and even the food I forced myself to eat mechanically seemed to have lost its taste. They could have given me anything and I would have eaten it without either any sense of disgust or pleasure. My heart was locked up in an archipelago of icebergs and I couldn't see how it could ever get out again.
When I got home, Mum looked at me all worried. I know that's just her way, she always looks like she's just heard the news the world is about to end or something like that. Probably even if she ever won the lottery she'd just stand there looking all glum. I know it's hard for her but I do wish sometimes she wasn't such an old moaning Minnie. She's a proper misery-guts, my Mum. Right now I felt it was me who should be the one singing brigali djilia, not her. After all, Meg was my lover. I had found her body lying dead in the woods, not her. Couldn't she try, just once maybe, to lighten up a bit and perhaps help me through the darkest hour of my life – even a little bit?
'Hi, Mum,' I said when I got in. 'You OK?'
'I'm all right, thanks,' she said. 'I wondered how things had gone with you. Yesterday, I mean. I didn't like to ask but I did wonder.
'Yeah, I wondered how it was going to go and all. To be honest that was one reason I kept putting it off. I was dead scared about how – well, how Meg's parents were going to react to me turning up.'
'And how did they react?'
'Oh, Mum, they were brill! They were absolutely wicked! They understood that I really, truly, loved Meg and then Carol took me in her arms and we cuddled and cried about her for ages. I'm glad that I went there. I'm not sure if it's helped them or not but it certainly helped me.'
'Carol? So it's not Mr and Mrs White any more?'
'They asked me to call them John and Carol. I feel very close to them, Mum. After all, as Carol said to me, I'm probably the only person who comes even close to understand how they feel. I loved Meg and even though I'm sure it must be the worst thing in the world to lose your child – especially like that – I still know that they saw the grief and pain and love I felt for her, and they forgave me for all the rest because of that.'
'I see,' said Mum. 'Well, I'm glad to hear it. Maybe it will help you to get over it eventually.'
'Oh, Mum,' I sighed. 'Do you think Carol and John will ever get over Meg's murder? Of course they won't. For the rest of their lives there'll always be a massive hole where their daughter used to be. I loved her, Mum, whether you like it or not. I won't ever forget her and I'll always have a special place for her in my heart. Maybe I will get over it in some ways. I might be able to feel some sort of emotion some time in the future. I suppose I might even be able to find love with someone else. Right now, I just don't know. All I know is I'm in grief and shock and hurt and pain and I can't seem to get beyond any of that stuff. Maybe in time the hurt will go away, and the pain turn to a dull ache, and maybe I will find someone else to love and be loved by. Of course I hope that happens but all I need now is love and understanding from the people I care about. And that includes you, Mum. We might fight a lot but I do love you, honest. And I know you love me too. Please try to understand the way I feel. I know it's hard for you – it's hard for all of us. But whatever you might think about it, Meg and I loved each other. And now she's gone, and I'll never see her again. I'll never hear her rich warm laugh, see her eyes sparkling with happiness, or watch her do her practical jokes, or hold her closely to me and hug her like my life depended on it. I'll never feel the warm touch of her lips on mine, or have the smell of her in my face and on my clothes and on my whole body. I'll never know how she would have turned out if we'd both lived to grow older. All I know is she was lovely, and now she's dead. And I can't hack it, Mum. It's tearing me apart.' Mum gave me a long look and then came over and gave me the biggest hug. The thing about her, being an Aries like me, when we get mad it's like World War Three, but we also know how to be loving, gentle, kind and compassionate better than a lot of other signs that maybe don't cause as many rucks as we do. I hugged her right back because I wanted to and of course I knew she meant it and all. 'Thanks, Mum,' I said, when we finally disentangled. 'I know I must be a real pain lately but I know you understand. How would you feel if it was Dad who'd been murdered? Wouldn't you feel sad and empty and like the light had gone out of your whole life?'
'Yes, of course I would,' said Mum. 'I'm sorry – I know I'm not always the most understanding person. I never had any of these – what do they call them now, same-sex relationships? – when I was growing up. I was only ever interested in boys. To be honest, I find the whole idea rather disgusting. But times change, I suppose, and you did love Megan, and she loved you. I just hope you won't turn into – well, I don't know what to call it. A full-blown lesbian? Or is that too politically incorrect? A gay woman? Is that what they call people like that now?'
I sighed and got up from the armchair. I felt an irresistible desire to hug Mum again in spite of the fact that she still didn't seem to understand.
'Oh, Mum,' I said. 'Lesbian's fine. There's all kinds of names for girls like that these days. I don't give a toss about what they call me. To be honest, I'm not even sure if I am a dyke. I mean, I've quite enjoyed some of the sex I've had with blokes. Then again, with me and Meg it was always about both of us giving each other pleasure. I haven't always found the boys that considerate when it comes to sex.'
Mum actually smiled when I said that.
'Yes, I know what you mean,' she said. 'Thank goodness your father is not one of those men.'
'I bet you had loads of boyfriends when you was young, Mum. I reckon all the blokes was after you. A beautiful woman like you. I bet you could tell me a few stories if you wanted to. Wasn't there all this free love about in the swinging sixties when you were a teenager?'
Mum smiled again.
'Well, a lot of that was just media hype, you know. Not everyone was a flower child – or even a hippy. Some of us just tried to get on with our lives. Anyway, in some ways it was more difficult for me than all these middle-class trendy types. You know my parents were the last of our line to follow the old Romani ways. They had to give up the life in the end because it got too hard for them. I don't know how Jimmy stands it, to be honest. Not that even he leads what anyone would call a traditional Rom lifestyle.'
Mum was opening up to me about her younger days which was a real change, Normally she just came out with stuff like 'when I was your age' but today she really was talking about her youth and sharing her experiences of that time with me. I waited eagerly to hear more of her younger days.
'Anyway, we were dirt poor,' she said. 'Mum and Dad did their best but money was always tight. Somehow there never seemed to be enough to go round but they did always manage to put enough food on the table. I might have dressed like a dowdy ragamuffin but I always had enough to eat. And you couldn't say that about everyone.Did I have boyfriends? Yes, of course I did. Did I have sex with them? Well, yes, with some of them. Did I fall in love with any of them? Just one.'
'What happened?'
'He turned out to be an alcoholic and ended up committing suicide some years ago,' said Mum quietly. 'He was a dear, sweet, kind and gentle man but he never had any grasp on reality. David always seemed to want everything in life to be happy and nice and of course things don't always work out that way. Then we broke up and I had a few other boyfriends. Nothing serious, though, until your Dad came along. Then – well, we fell in love and got married. And that's how you and your brother and sister came into the world, Lin. So don't think I don't understand about pain and grief and loss because I do. I just don't like to talk about it much, that's all.'
Once again I just felt an overwhelming desire to hug her.
'Thanks, Mum,' I said. 'You've never told me any of that stuff before. It means a lot to me that you shared it with me. Especially right now. I'm sorry about David.'
'So am I, Lin, believe me. He was a very clever man and a very lovable one. If only he'd had more common sense he'd have made somebody a fine husband. As it is, he just wasted his life. And I don't want you to make the same mistake, Lin. Oh, and before you start getting on your high horse, I'm not talking about university either.'
'I know you're not, Mum. I know what you mean and I'm not quite as wild as you reckon I am. Well, OK, maybe I am as wild as you think, but I'm not completely out of my tree. I'm not a total looper.'
Funnily enough I hadn't touched any of my drugs today. Somehow the visit to Carol and John had slightly cleared my system or something. And now even me and Mum were sitting down, hugging each other, and having a heart-to-heart. Maybe she was right after all – maybe I could find some sort of future in spite of all the horror I'd been through the last few days. Maybe I could find some bloke that I'd love and who'd love me and we'd settle down and have kids and if we were dead lucky, even manage to live happily ever after.
Even if not, she made me think. She'd had tragedy in her life too. It must have been an awful feeling when this David – who she'd obviously loved herself every bit as much as I did Meg – went and topped himself. I didn't know if it was harder to take the suicide or the murder of someone you loved but either way, the pain was real and must have been almost unbearable. Especially for someone who's as passionate and emotional as my Mum. She might be hard and have an even worse temper than me, but I've always known that she's full of love and feeling.
I began to understand things a bit better. I know it sounds bloody stupid and even arrogant of me, but I was so preoccupied with my own feelings of grief and pain at Meg's death that I'd almost forgotten that other people had emotions too, and that tragedy had stalked their life as well as mine. Suddenly I felt guilty and even ashamed of how much I'd been focusing on my own situation. 'I'm sorry I've been such a pain, Mum,' I told her truthfully. 'I know I've been acting weird lately and my emotions have been all over the place with this business. But I promise I'll try to do better. Maybe I'll go out tomorrow night. It might help take my mind off things. Anyway, it's worth a try.'
Mum smiled at me when I said that.
'I only want you to be happy, Lin. That's all I've ever wanted for you.'
'I know that, Mum. I'll try to be happy and I will try to make you proud of me instead of ashamed.'
'Do you really think I'm ashamed of you, darling? I love you and I'm proud of you. You're a clever girl and I honestly think you can make more of your life than I've managed to do with mine.'
'I'll try, Mum. I'll do my best, honest.'
'I know you will, Lin. I know you mean well even if you don't always think before you speak or do things. I know you've got a good heart and I know' – she gave a huge and obviously reluctant sigh – 'you truly loved Megan. Of course you're going to be devastated by what happened to her. You may never get over it entirely. All I know is that I'll always be there for you and you can come to me at any time. I'll listen to you and I'll try to help you whatever you ask me.'
'Thanks, Mum. I'm a lucky girl, aren't I, having a Mum as wonderful as you? Not everyone is as kind and understanding as you.'
The rest of the evening there was a real atmosphere of love and trust between the two of us. I was so pleased that somehow we seemed to have made a breakthrough in our stormy relationship.
Tomorrow was another day, after all. Maybe things would start getting better and I certainly planned to try to go out to take my mind of things a bit. Whether it was going to work I didn't know – but I knew I had to try. The alternative was just to sink deeper into the mire of despair and apathy that had already almost overwhelmed me. I knew that was not a long term solution and would only end up making things worse. Somehow I had to accept that Meg was dead and I was still alive and I had to keep on living. I had a future – however distant it might look right now – while poor Meg would never show her face again on earth. I knew instinctively if I'd been able to ask her what to do she would have said to me, get on with your life, Lin. Live and make me proud of you even from beyond the grave. Your life will be different but then it would have been anyway as we got older and grew up. Be strong for me, Lin. That's what dear Meg would have told me.
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Post by Hunny on Sept 28, 2012 18:15:59 GMT
em...Chapter 5?
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Post by Big Lin on Sept 29, 2012 17:14:44 GMT
Chapter Five
School didn't seem quite so bad today, somehow. I felt as if Meg's spirit had given me a message from beyond the grave and I was trying hard to follow her advice. After we finished for the day I agreed to go out later that evening with my friend Amy. I knew the sort of night we'd have – she loved clubbing, taking drugs, getting pissed and having fun with boys. Somehow that sort of thing had lost its appeal for me since poor Meg's death but at least it would get me out of the house and take my mind off things.
Amy was a bit of an airhead, to be honest, but fun. She just wanted to have a good time and she didn't seem to have a care in the world. After the pain and grief of the last few days, an evening with her might be just the tonic I needed.
We got ourselves dressed up in our clubbing gear, took a good supply of Es and went off to the local club. Mum and Dad looked at me all worried but they knew that I'd have to start going out again sooner or later. I know they weren't that keen on me making an evening of clubbing my first stop on the revival of my social life but I'd done it loads of times before and nothing had ever happened up to now.
We went to the Blue Angel, a nightclub in Downey. The evening went pretty well. Both of us danced with loads of blokes and the Es helped us get through the evening. We both get felt up by a few guys but nothing serious, certainly no trouble at all. Both of us really enjoyed ourselves and of course I had done my best not to think about dear Meg while I was in the club.
When we came out of the club we both lit up our cigarettes and leaned against the wall, blowing the smoke out into the night air. I won't say I felt like I didn't have a care in the world because that just wasn't true, but at least it had taken my mind off the dark horror of the last few days.
Out of the darkness I saw three figures looming up. I'd noticed them earlier onin the club but hadn't taken any notice of them because I knew who they were and I wasn't going to have anything to do with them if I could help it. The three blokes all came from a rival gang in Great Wenlock, and only a month ago the gang I belonged to had been in a rumble with their mob. It was the Downey Posse against the Wenlock Warriors, or as we called them, the Wenlock Wankers. During the course of the fight, I'd taken on the tall bloke's girlfriend and beaten the shit out of her. I knew he was the gang leader and doing her over got me loads of brownie points with me mates in the Downey gang.
Now he was here with two of his mates, obviously looking for trouble and, in my case at least, I figured revenge. I didn't reckon too much to it at the time, mind – probably he was just going to mouth off at me and try to put the wind up me – not that a tosser like him could – but that would be about the size of it. All the same, I wasn't taking no chances. The Wenlock Wankers was a nasty bunch of toerags and I knew from previous rumbles they didn't believe in fighting fair. Well, for that matter, there were times when neither did I. And this looked like it might be one of them.
'It's that fucking gypsy bitch,' he said slowly. 'The one what done over Gemma. And that mate of hers and all. Oi, slapper,' he said, talking to Amy. 'You another one of this cow's dyke girlfriends?'
Amy looked scared, and I knew from previous experience that she wasn't that much use when it come to a rumble. She was basically a hanger-on who liked to be with the tough guys but she couldn't handle herself at all if it come to the rough stuff.
'She's just a mate,' I said, answering for her. 'And I'm not a dyke.'
They all laughed when I said that. The tallest man, the leader of the gang, gave me a big grin.
'So what about that Megan you was always going round with? The one just got murdered? I heard you was her girlfriend.'
'So fucking what if I was? None of your bleeding business, is it? At least she was a nice person.'
'So you're a dyke, that's what. A fucking lezzy bitch. What do you lezzies get up to together anyhow?'
'Wouldn't you like to know?' I snapped back. 'And, like I told you, I'm not a dyke.'
'Oh yeah, I was forgetting. You do have it off with blokes and all. In fact, you're just a total fucking slut, really. Ain't you?'
I didn't even bother to answer that one. It was just so pathetic it wasn't worth the effort. Then the three of them started up a nasty chanting.
'Whore, gippo slut, gypsy cunt!' they yelled at me.
'Is that the best you can do?' I laughed. 'What a bunch of fucking tossers you all are. You couldn't get it up if I was a fucking whore!'
Then the big bloke just gave me a filthy look, like he'd just had a nasty thought in the single brain cell that lived somewhere up his fat arse.
'Well, at least we can find out what sort of a fuck you are, can't we? Get your kit off, gypsy! Your lezzy mate and all.'
Amy looked scared but I just gave them a cool look. I knew they were now at least seriously thinking about raping us but I still wasn't sure whether even a bunch of scumbags like them would go beyond talk.
'Fuck you, wankers,' I said coolly. 'I'm out of your fucking league.'
'That's all you know, cunt!' the leader shouted. 'Me and me mates is going to be the best fuck a gippo dyke like you has ever had. Much better than that lezzy whore of yours. Still, at least the bitch got what she fucking deserved.'
When he said that I went mad. I completely lost it and I knew then there was going to be serious shit. This wasn't just going to be a bit of verbal or even a dust-up – there'd be mayhem and GBH done today on a massive scale. There was no way I'd let these scumbags get away with badmouthing Meg.
'Say what the fuck you like about me, tossers. You're just a bunch of fucking baffy boys as far as I'm concerned. But if you say anything about my friend you'd best wash your dirty mouths out with soap first. Because I'll fucking kill you if you don't say sorry.'
'Ooh, I am scared,' the leader said. 'The gypsy bitch wants me to say sorry about her dyke girlfriend. Well, I ain't going to. The lezzy slut got exactly what she deserved. It ain't natural you girls fucking each other instead of us blokes. Anyhow, like I just told you, get your kit off. Let's see what you two whores have got. Then we'll give you both the best fuck you've ever had in your life.'
'In your dreams, poofters! You probably don't even know how to get it up anyhow. Mind you, considering that girlfriend of yours was the fucking village bike anyway – though with her looks I suppose it's the only way she could even get a bunch of retards like you – I'm surprised you haven't all got AIDS yet.'
'Oh, shut the fuck up, you lezzy whore. Just get your kit off and we'll show the two of you what it's like being fucked by a real man.'
At that point Amy lost her bottle completely. She gave me a scared and sorry look and just scarpered. I stayed where I was and kept my eyes on the three blokes. Even though I was really pissed off with her for the way she'd done a runner and left me to face them on my own, it wasn't the time to worry about things like that.
Laters, I muttered, making a mental note to give the cow a right bollocking when I finally saw her again. For now I had to hold my ground against this bunch of toerags who were grinning at me, obviously expecting me to cave in and let them rape me. Well, they'd have a long wait before I done something as stupid as that.
'Come on, gippo, you know what we want. Get your kit off and we'll fuck you till you're sore!'
'You and whose army?' I asked. 'I doubt if you bunch of wimps could even find your own cocks if you wanted to have a wank – so how you reckon you could actually manage to fuck me even if I let you – which of course I won't. So I guess you tossers will just have to tuck your tails between your legs and go back to shagging sheep or wanking like you've been doing all these years.'
The leader looked at me with a vicious grin on his face. The big slob might not have originally been going to rape me but I was pretty sure that was their game now.
Suddenly I started to get nervous and scared, though of course I didn't gave that lot the satisfaction of seeing how frightened I was now. It would have been like the sight of blood to sharks, and I knew from previous experience that 90% of streetfights are won or lost in the head. I had to give myself every possible advantage or I really was going to wind up getting gang-raped.
'OK, let's get the bitch,' he said. 'I've always wanted to rape a girl and now I'm going to. Get your kit off, dyke, or we'll hurt you even more than we will anyhow!'
'So make me,' I challenged them. 'If you think I'm going to strip off for a bunch of losers like you and let you fuck me you must be any more moronic than I reckoned you was.'
The glint of a knife shone suddenly in the darkness as he pulled out his blade and waved it about theatrically. I shivered inside but I still held my ground. There was no way I'd show any fear at all in front of these scumbags.
I didn't say a word when he done that. Instead I pulled out the chiv I always carried. I took it out and let him see it. At least I'd show the bastard if he meant to hurt me I'd do him some serious damage and all.
For a moment he looked almost shocked when I let him see the blade. He obviously hadn't reckoned on me doing something like that and at first he didn't say a word. Then he lurched unsteadily towards me, waving his own knife.
'I'll cut you, you fucking bitch!' he shouted. 'I'll cut you to shreds and when we've all fucked you I'll shred you into little pieces with my knife!'
He lunged towards with the point of his blade and I was really scared now. I had two choices left – I could try to run away like Amy had, with not much chance of success with three against one. The other choice was to get my retaliation in first.
In the darkness I stepped aside from his own knife and aimed my own weapon at my attacker. My blade made contact with his stomach and the fat piece of shit went down like a stone, clutching his stomach.
I saw the blood pouring out from him and his two mates stared in shock and horror. None of them had expected anything like that to happen. Come to that, neither did I. The worst I'd been expecting for most of the time was maybe a punch-up. Now I was in deep shit. Even though I despised the bloke, and it had been self-defence, I hadn't actually meant to kill the bastard. And now there was a good chance that maybe I had killed him.
I decided to do a runner while his mates were still wondering what to do about the situation. I hightailed it back for home as fast as I could. I reckon I could have won an Olympic race that day, I was that scared and shocked by what had happened.
Of course there was no way I was going to tell Mum and Dad what had just gone down that night. I'd have to keep it my little secret. Not least because I was dead scared I might have actually killed the toerag, and if I had then I knew the Old Bill would be on my case and I might even end up in the nick for murder or at least on a manslaughter rap. That'd be a nice way to crown my career as a juvenile delinquent, wouldn't it?
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Post by Hunny on Oct 9, 2012 14:08:48 GMT
Is there more?
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Post by Big Lin on Oct 18, 2012 0:41:28 GMT
Chapter Six
I'd prayed to God again last night, thanking him for saving me from the Wenlock mob and also for Chris' poem. What went down at the Blue Angel had scared the hell out of me and I realised my whole life was getting out of control. I'd been letting the drugs and booze and the fake glamour of being in a gang blind me to what was truly good and worthwhile in life. OK, I was never going to be a Holy Willie type but I knew I'd done wrong bigtime over the last three years. It was obviously going to wind up withme heading straight to prison if I didn't do something to pull myself together and start putting my life in some sort of order.
On Sunday night I got rid of my stash of drugs, flushing the whizz and blow and Es down the toilet. I knew it would be hard to get by without the drugs that had been crutches for me over the last three years but I knew I was going to have to make the effort. If I didn't, I'd either wind up dead or in the nick.
I still wasn't sure if I even believed in God but I said thank you to him anyhow. It was pretty lucky that I'd got out of the Blue Angel rumble without a scratch and that I hadn't done any serious damage to the bloke. Maybe it was a sign or something, or maybe it was just a bit of luck. Miri kushti bok, I thought. My good luck.
I tried to think about what that lady copper had said to me. When they found Meg's body there was something missing. Someone – most likely the toerag who'd murdered her – had taken something from her. What the hell was it? Of course the state I was in when I saw her lying there dead on the ground, the last thing I thought about was checking to see if anything was missing. Meg was missing from life, and that was the only thought in my mind at the time.
I tried to think about what she usually took with her. Her mobile, obviously, her IPod, her MP3 player, the USB plug for the internet connection on her phone.
I couldn't think of much else she had, to be honest. Meg wasn't like me, awash with bling. I always had chunky ear-rings dangling down, a necklace, bracelets – wrist and ankle – rings on every finger – a couple of them knuckle-duster rings I'd picked up in a secondhand shop which had come in dead useful in a couple of scraps in the past – and I always had my face plastered with lipstick, blusher, and loads of other make-up stuff. My bag was like an Aladdin's cave of cosmetics and manicure stuff, including a nail file, scissors – which again had come in handy in the past when I'd been in trouble – and just all kinds of gear. But Meg wasn't like that. She was dead plain. She never even used make-up or lipstick or nothing. I was the feminine one and she was the butch partner in our relationship. She loved me dressing up all girly but it wasn't her styleat all. So what the hell did she carry around with her that was so important that the coppers kept asking me if I knew why it had gone missing?
In the end I decided to ring up the cops myself. I knew Conway had given Mum her number and I gave her a bell.
'DS Conway,' she said when I rang her.
'Hello there. It's Linda Marshall. I wonder if I could have a word with you?'
'Yes, of course. I'll come right over.'
That was it then. I'd committed myself now. I wasn't sure if I was going to get much sense out of the gavers but at least I was going to try.
Conway turned up fifteen minutes later with her boss Turner. They both gave me a look like they hoped it was something I'd remembered or stuff like that but it wasn't. Instead, it was a case of me asking them the questions.
'I know it might not be much,' I said, 'but I got to thinking about what you said to me the other day. Like when you said that something was missing from Meg's body when you found her. I've been thinking as hard as I can and I know what she was like. She wasn't the sort of girl who carried a lot with her. She didn't wear any jewellery or make-up or anything like that. I was the one dressed like that. Meg was just – plain and unadorned, I suppose. She was lovely but she never carried a lot of stuff with her. She had her IPod, her MP3, and her phone and that was about it. Not like me – my bag's always crammed full of gear. So I've been wondering if – well, to be honest, I know it's a bit of a cheek, but what exactly are you looking for? I've been thinking till my brain's tired out and I still can't reckon what it is. Would you mind telling me?'
The Turner bloke gave me a filthy look like I was wasting his time and what a nerve I had bringing them over to ask him questions when it should have been the other way round. The Conway woman just smiled at me when I said that, though.
'I'm sure you realise the importance of – holding back certain facts from the public when a murder is being investigated,' she said. 'It's sometimes one crucial item of evidence that helps us trap the killer. So if we released everything we know about the case into the public domain, the murderer might be able to get away with the crime. And none of us wants that to happen, do we?'
'No,' I agreed at once. 'No, I can see that.'
'So I don't think it would be a good idea for us to disclose such – sensitive information. I'm sorry, Linda, but I can't tell you what it is that's gone missing.'
'OK,' I said.
I was feeling low again when she told me all that. I wished I hadn't flushed my stash down the toilet but what else could I do? If I was ever going to start my new life as a reformed character now was as good a time as any.
'Oh, and by the way, Linda,' Conway said, 'do you know anything about an incident that took place at Downey the other night? A stabbing at the Blue Angel, to be precise?'
I gave her a hard look and tried to act all cool.
'What stabbing? I don't know nothing about that. What's it got to do with me?'
She gave me another of her irritating smiles.
'Well, there seems to be a – discrepancy, let's say – between the accounts given by various eye-witnesses at the scene. The victim himself claims that he was attackedby a young man but he can't give any description of him. Other witnesses claim that he and two friends of his surrounded two women and made threats to rape them. They claim that knives were produced and then one of the women ran off. The other one stood her ground and stabbed the man while he was lunging at her with his own knife. She then ran off and the man's friends called an ambulance. Do you know anything about those events, Linda?'
I swallowed hard. I didn't know who it was had grassed me up but I was dead sure I'd fucking kill them when I found out.
'Why would I know about all that?' I said, trying to act cool.
'Well, the witnesses gave a pretty good description of a tall, dark-haired girl who looked – well, a lot like you, to be honest.'
'I don't deny I was at the Blue Angel,' I said carefully.
'I see. And do you deny you stabbed a man who was trying to assault you?'
'Look, I'd been out clubbing. I was pissed out of me skull. You reckon I'd be in any state to do something like that? Anyhow,' I lied through my teeth, 'I don't even carry a blade, so where would I get a knife from even I had stabbed anyone? Which, of course, I didn't.'
'I see. Well, I just thought I'd better check. The victim certainly doesn't claim it was a woman who attacked him. Maybe the witnesses were mistaken. It was dark, and they'd been drinking themselves. I expect it was a case of mistaken identity.'
'Yeah, most likely it was,' I said quickly. 'There's always people go clubbing on Friday and Saturday nights and loads of times it gets a bit wild. Of course, I don't get involved in any rough stuff myself but I've seen it now and then.'
'So what would you do if you were surrounded by three youths threatening to rape you?'
'Try to get away, of course. Three onto one is never good odds.'
'And if you couldn't get away?'
'I suppose I'd kick the bastards in the balls.'
Conway tried to wipe the smile off her face when I said that but just for a second I'd seen it. Maybe it's rough for lady cops in the Old Bill, and maybe there's the odd bloke in the force she's felt like giving a swift boot to the bollocks herself.
Anyhow, it looked like I was off the hook. She obviously knew it was me who'd stabbed the scumbag, and she was sort of telling me that she didn't mind. All I knew was that someone up there must like me after all. Maybe it was time I started doing something to deserve his love.
'Well, since the victim claims it was a man who attacked him, and since you don't know anything about the incident, we'll have to put it down as another unsolved knife crime. As far as Megan White is concerned, I'm afraid I'll just have to ask you to keep thinking about what she might or might not have had on her. Because it's not our policy in this kind of high-profile investigation to release what might be key evidence in trapping her killer. Anything else?'
There was only one question I wanted to ask.
'Have you got any suspects?'
Conway gave me a funny look when I asked her that.
'We've been interviewing a number of people in connection with our enquiries. At the moment we're keeping an open mind about who might have killed her.'
'Am I a suspect?' I asked straight out.
She glanced at her boss when I said that, and she didn't answer right away. It must have been almost a minute before she said anything.
'We haven't ruled out any avenues of enquiry at the moment,' she said, in that copper bullshit doubletalk that means 'yeah, we reckon it just might have been you but we're not going to come right out with it.'
'Why?' I couldn't help asking. 'I loved Meg – I'd never have hurt her.'
'Linda,' Conway said quietly, 'I think you've been very lucky to have stayed out of trouble as long as you have. I've found out a lot of things about you since Megan's murder. I know you take drugs, that you're in a gang, that you've engaged in acts of petty crime, and that you have a history of violence and assaults. You and I both know what really happened at that club the other night. I've heard from quite a few people that you're a volatile, not to say unstable person, with a quick temper and you've never hesitated to use violence in the past. It was you who discovered the body. You went to the woods, you claim you had no particular reason to go there except that you'd just quarrelled with your mother. You must have been in a pumped-up state when you got there. Maybe you and Megan fell out and you killed her. I'm not saying that's what I think happened. Like I said, I'm keeping an open mind. But you have to understand that you make a very plausible suspect. You and Megan were lovers. After money, love is the second most common motive for murder. So, to be honest, yes, you are a suspect in the case.'
When she said that I felt the tears running down my face. I just couldn't get my head round the idea that they actually reckoned it might be me what had done her in. I'd never even have hurt dear Meg – yet Conway was saying I might have killed her!
'Should I get myself a lawyer?'
'If you want to.'
'Am I likely to need one?'
'Too early to say.'
I was in a state of complete shock now. How could they think it was me who'd killed poor dear Meg? And now they were more or less advising me to get a lawyer!
When they left I just sobbed my heart out again. Mum and Dad had both heard and seen everything that had gone on. I was expecting a big drama queen production from Mum but I didn't get it. Instead, they were both really nice to me.
'All right, Lin,' said Mum. 'I'd often suspected you took drugs. And I've always known that some of your – friends – were less than desirable. But this stabbing at the nightclub! Why didn't you tell us what had happened?'
'You'd only have given me a right bollocking if I had.'
'Maybe I would, but I'd have hugged you and loved you all the same. Have you still got the knife?'
'Yeah,' I said. 'You might as well take it. I've come to a decision about my life. I'm going to give up all the drugs and gangs and stuff like that. If I don't I'll either wind up dead or in prison. I don't much fancy either of them.'
'Thank you, Lin,' said Mum. 'What about your drugs?'
'I flushed them down the toilet last night. You can search me if you want to. They're all gone, every last one of them. All my draw, my sulphate, my Es – all gone. I'll never touch them again, I promise. I'll go and get the knife and give it to you.'
So I went up to my room, took the knife out of my bag and handed it over. To be honest it was a big relief to have everything out in the open. No more drugs, no more running in gangs, no more walking around all tooled up like I had done – it was definitely going to be a new start for me.
Big Bad Lin was a thing of the past. I didn't mind still being Big Lin but I wanted to get rid of the 'bad' part of my nickname. Mind you, it was going to take more than just words to do that.
While me and Mum were being all girly and touchy-feely and stuff like that, trying to rebuild our relationship, Dad, like always, was just sitting there all quiet and thinking things over. He's always been the more practical one out of my parents.
'You know, Lin,' he said finally. 'That Lisa Conway did say something that set me thinking.'
'What's that, Dad? That I might have murdered Meg?'
'Oh, listen to the wee girl, there you go again. You know we don't think that and we never have done. Not even for a moment, to be sure. But what I meant was when she said it might be a good idea if you had a wee word with a lawyer. I'm not saying they've got any plans to charge you with anything. My guess would be that they're still whistling in the dark but we can't afford to take any chances. It has been known for innocent people to be wrongly convicted, you know. Like the sergeant said, you had motive, means and opportunity. It might seem crazy to us but don't forget they don't know you. They're bound to think you're a possible suspect. The one who finds the body always is, you know. It'd only be like – well, a precaution, I suppose. How do you feel about talking to a solicitor?'
I didn't know how to answer that one. I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that the coppers even thought of me as a possible suspect. How on earth they figured that one out was a mystery to me. I just couldn't see it.
'Oh, Dad, I'll do whatever you want. I haven't got a clue, to be honest. You and Mum had best sort things out. I wouldn't know where to start.'
'Right, then I'll do it on Monday. You'd best be ready to talk when I let you know what's happening.'
'Whatever you say.'
So I now had to psych myself up to talk to some fancy lawyer just in case I had to prove that it wasn't me who'd killed my own friend. My God, what a mess my life was turning into lately!
Then there was the money aspect and all. How much money was all this going to cost? I knew hiring a lawyer was going to cost loads of bestipen and we'd always had to struggle for money till Dad managed to get his job as a prison officer. And he'd only been doing that for just over a year. Till then he'd done all sorts to make ends meet – worked on the roads, driven buses, worked as a barman, you name it. When he'd lived in Londonderry he'd had a job as a manager at a company but after a few years of the IRA's campaign of violence he just couldn't take it any more. He hightailed to England and had to get used to being nicknamed Paddy and it being assumed that because he was Irish he must be Catholic or even an IRA sympathiser.
Monday came, and I was off to school once more. There was a funny feeling about the way the kids behaved around me. Some wanted to be mates, and even told me they thought I was some kind of hero for what I done at the nightclub. Others just looked scared and a lot of them just kept their distance.
Like you can imagine, Amy done her best to stay out of my way. I wasn't having none of it, though. Eventually I tracked her down and got her in a corner on her own. She looked at me dead scared and I knew she reckoned she was in for a hiding.
'So,' I said quietly, 'what sort of a friend pisses off when she sees her mate's in a bit of bother?'
'I'm sorry, Lin,' she pleaded. 'You know I'm useless at the rough stuff. Not like you, of course. I'm so glad you was able to get out of it.'
'Yeah, no thanks to you, was it? And I had the fucking coppers round my place yesterday asking me questions about it. They reckon there was witnesses who said they saw a dark-haired girl looking a lot like me stabbing a bloke. I wonder who the fuck it was grassed me up, Amy?'
Her eyes were wide open with fear when I said that. I knew she was scared of her own shadow and I towered over her by a good six inches. She'd seen me duffing people up in the past and she obviously reckoned it was her turn now.
'Please, Lin, I never said nothing. Not to no one, I didn't. When the cops asked me I told them I didn't know nothing. All I said was that I run off and I didn't know what happened after that.'
'So what do you reckon I ought to do to a so-called mate what runs out on me when I was in deep shit?'
She actually started crying when I said that. Of course, she didn't know the half of what was going on my life and as far as I was concerned that was how I wanted it to stay.
'Oh, shut the fuck up with those tears, Amy. You've been in the gang long enough to know what the code is. Even if you get hurt yourself, you never leave another member on their own. Especially when it's three to two, or three to one, like it was after you pissed off, you fucking skank! Just give me one reason why I shouldn't beat the shit out of you, bitch!'
'Please don't hurt me, Lin,' she begged. 'I know I shouldn't have done what I did and I'm sorry. I just panicked and like I said, I'm crap at the rough stuff anyhow. I know I'm a wimp and I know you could beat the shit out of me without even breaking sweat but I'm begging you, please. Please don't hurt me.'
'Why the fuck not? Give me one good reason!'
Amy's eyes flooded with tears again. I was getting bored with all her crap. I moved towards her menacingly and lifted my arm as if I was going to hit her. She flinched away from me and I just gave her a cold look and turned my back.
'You're not worth the fucking effort,' I said contemptuously. 'Fuck you, you useless little twat! Don't cross my path again or I'll give you the hiding of your life!'
I could still hear Amy sobbing with a mixture of fear and relief as I walked away. Today was the start of my new life, and before I'd made up my mind to live a better way than what I had been, I wouldn't have hesitated. I'd have beaten the silly cow black and blue and she'd have had trouble walking properly for a week.
Now – well, I just decided to let it go. After all, the tosser who'd started all the trouble wouldn't dare come near me in future, so why bother about a useless piece of shit like Amy?
Even though some people might not have realised it yet, I felt I'd come a long way over the weekend. Before I stabbed that bloke on Friday night I wouldn't have thought twice about twatting Amy for what she'd done. I'd have made a right mess of her and I'd have enjoyed doing it. But now I had to put my Big Bad Lin days behind me for good, unless I wanted to wind up dead or in the nick. Big Lin could be a gentle giant, but Big Bad Lin could never be anything except a bully. And suddenly I thought that I didn't much like the person I'd turned into over the last two or three years.
I sighed and made up my mind to do a lot better with my life. I was still young, and though I knew I was never going to get over the horror of Meg's death I still had time to turn my life round and not go completely to the bad like I had been doing.
I made a point of thanking Chris for his poem about Meg's murder. He seemed pleased that it had helped me and he also asked me how I was getting on.
When I told him the cops reckoned it might have been me who done Meg in he just looked at me in total disbelief.
'They must be mad,' he said. 'I know you've always been a bit of a hard nut but I've never thought of you as a killer. It's a crazy idea! What are you doing about it?'
'Well, Dad's going to try and get me fixed up with a lawyer. God knows how much that'll cost him but he knows I'm innocent and there's no way he'll let them send me down for something I never done.'
He looked at me thoughtfully when I said that. I could see he was making up his mind about something. When he finally spoke, it come as a big surprise to me.
'I could help you there,' he said finally. 'Does your Dad know any criminal defence lawyers?'
'I don't know. But he'll find someone.'
'I could put you on to someone,' he said. 'She's someone who handled a case for a friend of mine a couple of years ago. She's absolutely brilliant at dealing with the police too. And she's the type of person who, if she thinks you're innocent, will fight for you all the way. Not like these career lawyers who just do it for the money and couldn't care less if they're representing an obviously guilty serial killer or someone – like you – who's an innocent victim. Tell you what, I'll text you her phone number tonight and you can ask your Dad to give her a ring.'
'Thanks, Chris.'
When I got home Dad was still out at work. Mum was all nice to me which made a change and when Dad did get back he told me the bad news.
'I've had a word with people I know at work about finding a good criminal lawyer to represent you, so I have. I've spoken to a couple of them today and one of them wanted so much money I had to say no and the other one seemed like a total eejit, so he did. I'll have to keep trying, Lin. We'll get someone good, you can trust me to find you the best.'
'Funny you should say that,' I told him. 'A mate of mine at school said he'd text me the number of a woman he reckoned was a brilliant criminal defence lawyer. Apparently she'd got a mate of his off a couple of years ago when they were wrongly accused. He said we ought to use her.'
I checked my mobile and sure enough, there was a text from Chris. I read the details back to Dad.
'Emma Donnelly, solicitor, number....'
Dad took down the details and nodded.
'I'll try, so's I will. I wonder if she'd be in now?'
Lawyers kept such funny hours it wasn't impossible. Six o'clock in the evening you'd expect them to be out down the pub or wherever they go when they've finished in court but it was worth a try. Dad picked up the phone and dialled her number.
After the usual rigmarole of talking to her secretary he was finally put through to the lawyer herself.
'Emma Donnelly,' she said. 'Can I help you?'
'The name's Louis McGrath,' said Dad. 'I'm calling on behalf of my daughter Linda, so I am.'
'I see. And what's the problem?'
I could see Dad getting slightly agitated while he talked to her. I wondered why. Anyway, he ran briefly through the situation with Meg's murder and the fact that the police now considered me a possible suspect.
'Could you meet me at my office around 4.30 tomorrow afternoon?'
'I'll have to get time off work, but yes, we can be there.'
'Good. See you there, then.'
Dad put the phone down and glared at me.
'Sure, you didn't tell me she was Irish, did you?'
'I didn't know. But you're Irish!' I protested.
'Ay, but I'm Irish and British. She's one of those Irish – the sort that drove me out of my own hometown, so they did. I'll give you any money the wee lass is an IRA supporter, so I will.'
'Oh well, if you're not happy with her, Dad, we can always try someone else. It was only because Chris suggested her to me. He was only trying to be helpful.'
'I'm sure he was, Linda. But I've a bad feeling about this Donnelly woman. I suppose the best thing is to see her tomorrow and if she's no good I'll look around for another lawyer. Don't fret yourself, girl. You know I'll do right by you.'
'I know you will, Dad.'
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Post by Big Lin on Oct 18, 2012 0:42:02 GMT
Chapter Six
I'd prayed to God again last night, thanking him for saving me from the Wenlock mob and also for Chris' poem. What went down at the Blue Angel had scared the hell out of me and I realised my whole life was getting out of control. I'd been letting the drugs and booze and the fake glamour of being in a gang blind me to what was truly good and worthwhile in life. OK, I was never going to be a Holy Willie type but I knew I'd done wrong bigtime over the last three years. It was obviously going to wind up withme heading straight to prison if I didn't do something to pull myself together and start putting my life in some sort of order.
On Sunday night I got rid of my stash of drugs, flushing the whizz and blow and Es down the toilet. I knew it would be hard to get by without the drugs that had been crutches for me over the last three years but I knew I was going to have to make the effort. If I didn't, I'd either wind up dead or in the nick.
I still wasn't sure if I even believed in God but I said thank you to him anyhow. It was pretty lucky that I'd got out of the Blue Angel rumble without a scratch and that I hadn't done any serious damage to the bloke. Maybe it was a sign or something, or maybe it was just a bit of luck. Miri kushti bok, I thought. My good luck.
I tried to think about what that lady copper had said to me. When they found Meg's body there was something missing. Someone – most likely the toerag who'd murdered her – had taken something from her. What the hell was it? Of course the state I was in when I saw her lying there dead on the ground, the last thing I thought about was checking to see if anything was missing. Meg was missing from life, and that was the only thought in my mind at the time.
I tried to think about what she usually took with her. Her mobile, obviously, her IPod, her MP3 player, the USB plug for the internet connection on her phone.
I couldn't think of much else she had, to be honest. Meg wasn't like me, awash with bling. I always had chunky ear-rings dangling down, a necklace, bracelets – wrist and ankle – rings on every finger – a couple of them knuckle-duster rings I'd picked up in a secondhand shop which had come in dead useful in a couple of scraps in the past – and I always had my face plastered with lipstick, blusher, and loads of other make-up stuff. My bag was like an Aladdin's cave of cosmetics and manicure stuff, including a nail file, scissors – which again had come in handy in the past when I'd been in trouble – and just all kinds of gear. But Meg wasn't like that. She was dead plain. She never even used make-up or lipstick or nothing. I was the feminine one and she was the butch partner in our relationship. She loved me dressing up all girly but it wasn't her styleat all. So what the hell did she carry around with her that was so important that the coppers kept asking me if I knew why it had gone missing?
In the end I decided to ring up the cops myself. I knew Conway had given Mum her number and I gave her a bell.
'DS Conway,' she said when I rang her.
'Hello there. It's Linda Marshall. I wonder if I could have a word with you?'
'Yes, of course. I'll come right over.'
That was it then. I'd committed myself now. I wasn't sure if I was going to get much sense out of the gavers but at least I was going to try.
Conway turned up fifteen minutes later with her boss Turner. They both gave me a look like they hoped it was something I'd remembered or stuff like that but it wasn't. Instead, it was a case of me asking them the questions.
'I know it might not be much,' I said, 'but I got to thinking about what you said to me the other day. Like when you said that something was missing from Meg's body when you found her. I've been thinking as hard as I can and I know what she was like. She wasn't the sort of girl who carried a lot with her. She didn't wear any jewellery or make-up or anything like that. I was the one dressed like that. Meg was just – plain and unadorned, I suppose. She was lovely but she never carried a lot of stuff with her. She had her IPod, her MP3, and her phone and that was about it. Not like me – my bag's always crammed full of gear. So I've been wondering if – well, to be honest, I know it's a bit of a cheek, but what exactly are you looking for? I've been thinking till my brain's tired out and I still can't reckon what it is. Would you mind telling me?'
The Turner bloke gave me a filthy look like I was wasting his time and what a nerve I had bringing them over to ask him questions when it should have been the other way round. The Conway woman just smiled at me when I said that, though.
'I'm sure you realise the importance of – holding back certain facts from the public when a murder is being investigated,' she said. 'It's sometimes one crucial item of evidence that helps us trap the killer. So if we released everything we know about the case into the public domain, the murderer might be able to get away with the crime. And none of us wants that to happen, do we?'
'No,' I agreed at once. 'No, I can see that.'
'So I don't think it would be a good idea for us to disclose such – sensitive information. I'm sorry, Linda, but I can't tell you what it is that's gone missing.'
'OK,' I said.
I was feeling low again when she told me all that. I wished I hadn't flushed my stash down the toilet but what else could I do? If I was ever going to start my new life as a reformed character now was as good a time as any.
'Oh, and by the way, Linda,' Conway said, 'do you know anything about an incident that took place at Downey the other night? A stabbing at the Blue Angel, to be precise?'
I gave her a hard look and tried to act all cool.
'What stabbing? I don't know nothing about that. What's it got to do with me?'
She gave me another of her irritating smiles.
'Well, there seems to be a – discrepancy, let's say – between the accounts given by various eye-witnesses at the scene. The victim himself claims that he was attackedby a young man but he can't give any description of him. Other witnesses claim that he and two friends of his surrounded two women and made threats to rape them. They claim that knives were produced and then one of the women ran off. The other one stood her ground and stabbed the man while he was lunging at her with his own knife. She then ran off and the man's friends called an ambulance. Do you know anything about those events, Linda?'
I swallowed hard. I didn't know who it was had grassed me up but I was dead sure I'd fucking kill them when I found out.
'Why would I know about all that?' I said, trying to act cool.
'Well, the witnesses gave a pretty good description of a tall, dark-haired girl who looked – well, a lot like you, to be honest.'
'I don't deny I was at the Blue Angel,' I said carefully.
'I see. And do you deny you stabbed a man who was trying to assault you?'
'Look, I'd been out clubbing. I was pissed out of me skull. You reckon I'd be in any state to do something like that? Anyhow,' I lied through my teeth, 'I don't even carry a blade, so where would I get a knife from even I had stabbed anyone? Which, of course, I didn't.'
'I see. Well, I just thought I'd better check. The victim certainly doesn't claim it was a woman who attacked him. Maybe the witnesses were mistaken. It was dark, and they'd been drinking themselves. I expect it was a case of mistaken identity.'
'Yeah, most likely it was,' I said quickly. 'There's always people go clubbing on Friday and Saturday nights and loads of times it gets a bit wild. Of course, I don't get involved in any rough stuff myself but I've seen it now and then.'
'So what would you do if you were surrounded by three youths threatening to rape you?'
'Try to get away, of course. Three onto one is never good odds.'
'And if you couldn't get away?'
'I suppose I'd kick the bastards in the balls.'
Conway tried to wipe the smile off her face when I said that but just for a second I'd seen it. Maybe it's rough for lady cops in the Old Bill, and maybe there's the odd bloke in the force she's felt like giving a swift boot to the bollocks herself.
Anyhow, it looked like I was off the hook. She obviously knew it was me who'd stabbed the scumbag, and she was sort of telling me that she didn't mind. All I knew was that someone up there must like me after all. Maybe it was time I started doing something to deserve his love.
'Well, since the victim claims it was a man who attacked him, and since you don't know anything about the incident, we'll have to put it down as another unsolved knife crime. As far as Megan White is concerned, I'm afraid I'll just have to ask you to keep thinking about what she might or might not have had on her. Because it's not our policy in this kind of high-profile investigation to release what might be key evidence in trapping her killer. Anything else?'
There was only one question I wanted to ask.
'Have you got any suspects?'
Conway gave me a funny look when I asked her that.
'We've been interviewing a number of people in connection with our enquiries. At the moment we're keeping an open mind about who might have killed her.'
'Am I a suspect?' I asked straight out.
She glanced at her boss when I said that, and she didn't answer right away. It must have been almost a minute before she said anything.
'We haven't ruled out any avenues of enquiry at the moment,' she said, in that copper bullshit doubletalk that means 'yeah, we reckon it just might have been you but we're not going to come right out with it.'
'Why?' I couldn't help asking. 'I loved Meg – I'd never have hurt her.'
'Linda,' Conway said quietly, 'I think you've been very lucky to have stayed out of trouble as long as you have. I've found out a lot of things about you since Megan's murder. I know you take drugs, that you're in a gang, that you've engaged in acts of petty crime, and that you have a history of violence and assaults. You and I both know what really happened at that club the other night. I've heard from quite a few people that you're a volatile, not to say unstable person, with a quick temper and you've never hesitated to use violence in the past. It was you who discovered the body. You went to the woods, you claim you had no particular reason to go there except that you'd just quarrelled with your mother. You must have been in a pumped-up state when you got there. Maybe you and Megan fell out and you killed her. I'm not saying that's what I think happened. Like I said, I'm keeping an open mind. But you have to understand that you make a very plausible suspect. You and Megan were lovers. After money, love is the second most common motive for murder. So, to be honest, yes, you are a suspect in the case.'
When she said that I felt the tears running down my face. I just couldn't get my head round the idea that they actually reckoned it might be me what had done her in. I'd never even have hurt dear Meg – yet Conway was saying I might have killed her!
'Should I get myself a lawyer?'
'If you want to.'
'Am I likely to need one?'
'Too early to say.'
I was in a state of complete shock now. How could they think it was me who'd killed poor dear Meg? And now they were more or less advising me to get a lawyer!
When they left I just sobbed my heart out again. Mum and Dad had both heard and seen everything that had gone on. I was expecting a big drama queen production from Mum but I didn't get it. Instead, they were both really nice to me.
'All right, Lin,' said Mum. 'I'd often suspected you took drugs. And I've always known that some of your – friends – were less than desirable. But this stabbing at the nightclub! Why didn't you tell us what had happened?'
'You'd only have given me a right bollocking if I had.'
'Maybe I would, but I'd have hugged you and loved you all the same. Have you still got the knife?'
'Yeah,' I said. 'You might as well take it. I've come to a decision about my life. I'm going to give up all the drugs and gangs and stuff like that. If I don't I'll either wind up dead or in prison. I don't much fancy either of them.'
'Thank you, Lin,' said Mum. 'What about your drugs?'
'I flushed them down the toilet last night. You can search me if you want to. They're all gone, every last one of them. All my draw, my sulphate, my Es – all gone. I'll never touch them again, I promise. I'll go and get the knife and give it to you.'
So I went up to my room, took the knife out of my bag and handed it over. To be honest it was a big relief to have everything out in the open. No more drugs, no more running in gangs, no more walking around all tooled up like I had done – it was definitely going to be a new start for me.
Big Bad Lin was a thing of the past. I didn't mind still being Big Lin but I wanted to get rid of the 'bad' part of my nickname. Mind you, it was going to take more than just words to do that.
While me and Mum were being all girly and touchy-feely and stuff like that, trying to rebuild our relationship, Dad, like always, was just sitting there all quiet and thinking things over. He's always been the more practical one out of my parents.
'You know, Lin,' he said finally. 'That Lisa Conway did say something that set me thinking.'
'What's that, Dad? That I might have murdered Meg?'
'Oh, listen to the wee girl, there you go again. You know we don't think that and we never have done. Not even for a moment, to be sure. But what I meant was when she said it might be a good idea if you had a wee word with a lawyer. I'm not saying they've got any plans to charge you with anything. My guess would be that they're still whistling in the dark but we can't afford to take any chances. It has been known for innocent people to be wrongly convicted, you know. Like the sergeant said, you had motive, means and opportunity. It might seem crazy to us but don't forget they don't know you. They're bound to think you're a possible suspect. The one who finds the body always is, you know. It'd only be like – well, a precaution, I suppose. How do you feel about talking to a solicitor?'
I didn't know how to answer that one. I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that the coppers even thought of me as a possible suspect. How on earth they figured that one out was a mystery to me. I just couldn't see it.
'Oh, Dad, I'll do whatever you want. I haven't got a clue, to be honest. You and Mum had best sort things out. I wouldn't know where to start.'
'Right, then I'll do it on Monday. You'd best be ready to talk when I let you know what's happening.'
'Whatever you say.'
So I now had to psych myself up to talk to some fancy lawyer just in case I had to prove that it wasn't me who'd killed my own friend. My God, what a mess my life was turning into lately!
Then there was the money aspect and all. How much money was all this going to cost? I knew hiring a lawyer was going to cost loads of bestipen and we'd always had to struggle for money till Dad managed to get his job as a prison officer. And he'd only been doing that for just over a year. Till then he'd done all sorts to make ends meet – worked on the roads, driven buses, worked as a barman, you name it. When he'd lived in Londonderry he'd had a job as a manager at a company but after a few years of the IRA's campaign of violence he just couldn't take it any more. He hightailed to England and had to get used to being nicknamed Paddy and it being assumed that because he was Irish he must be Catholic or even an IRA sympathiser.
Monday came, and I was off to school once more. There was a funny feeling about the way the kids behaved around me. Some wanted to be mates, and even told me they thought I was some kind of hero for what I done at the nightclub. Others just looked scared and a lot of them just kept their distance.
Like you can imagine, Amy done her best to stay out of my way. I wasn't having none of it, though. Eventually I tracked her down and got her in a corner on her own. She looked at me dead scared and I knew she reckoned she was in for a hiding.
'So,' I said quietly, 'what sort of a friend pisses off when she sees her mate's in a bit of bother?'
'I'm sorry, Lin,' she pleaded. 'You know I'm useless at the rough stuff. Not like you, of course. I'm so glad you was able to get out of it.'
'Yeah, no thanks to you, was it? And I had the fucking coppers round my place yesterday asking me questions about it. They reckon there was witnesses who said they saw a dark-haired girl looking a lot like me stabbing a bloke. I wonder who the fuck it was grassed me up, Amy?'
Her eyes were wide open with fear when I said that. I knew she was scared of her own shadow and I towered over her by a good six inches. She'd seen me duffing people up in the past and she obviously reckoned it was her turn now.
'Please, Lin, I never said nothing. Not to no one, I didn't. When the cops asked me I told them I didn't know nothing. All I said was that I run off and I didn't know what happened after that.'
'So what do you reckon I ought to do to a so-called mate what runs out on me when I was in deep shit?'
She actually started crying when I said that. Of course, she didn't know the half of what was going on my life and as far as I was concerned that was how I wanted it to stay.
'Oh, shut the fuck up with those tears, Amy. You've been in the gang long enough to know what the code is. Even if you get hurt yourself, you never leave another member on their own. Especially when it's three to two, or three to one, like it was after you pissed off, you fucking skank! Just give me one reason why I shouldn't beat the shit out of you, bitch!'
'Please don't hurt me, Lin,' she begged. 'I know I shouldn't have done what I did and I'm sorry. I just panicked and like I said, I'm crap at the rough stuff anyhow. I know I'm a wimp and I know you could beat the shit out of me without even breaking sweat but I'm begging you, please. Please don't hurt me.'
'Why the fuck not? Give me one good reason!'
Amy's eyes flooded with tears again. I was getting bored with all her crap. I moved towards her menacingly and lifted my arm as if I was going to hit her. She flinched away from me and I just gave her a cold look and turned my back.
'You're not worth the fucking effort,' I said contemptuously. 'Fuck you, you useless little twat! Don't cross my path again or I'll give you the hiding of your life!'
I could still hear Amy sobbing with a mixture of fear and relief as I walked away. Today was the start of my new life, and before I'd made up my mind to live a better way than what I had been, I wouldn't have hesitated. I'd have beaten the silly cow black and blue and she'd have had trouble walking properly for a week.
Now – well, I just decided to let it go. After all, the tosser who'd started all the trouble wouldn't dare come near me in future, so why bother about a useless piece of shit like Amy?
Even though some people might not have realised it yet, I felt I'd come a long way over the weekend. Before I stabbed that bloke on Friday night I wouldn't have thought twice about twatting Amy for what she'd done. I'd have made a right mess of her and I'd have enjoyed doing it. But now I had to put my Big Bad Lin days behind me for good, unless I wanted to wind up dead or in the nick. Big Lin could be a gentle giant, but Big Bad Lin could never be anything except a bully. And suddenly I thought that I didn't much like the person I'd turned into over the last two or three years.
I sighed and made up my mind to do a lot better with my life. I was still young, and though I knew I was never going to get over the horror of Meg's death I still had time to turn my life round and not go completely to the bad like I had been doing.
I made a point of thanking Chris for his poem about Meg's murder. He seemed pleased that it had helped me and he also asked me how I was getting on.
When I told him the cops reckoned it might have been me who done Meg in he just looked at me in total disbelief.
'They must be mad,' he said. 'I know you've always been a bit of a hard nut but I've never thought of you as a killer. It's a crazy idea! What are you doing about it?'
'Well, Dad's going to try and get me fixed up with a lawyer. God knows how much that'll cost him but he knows I'm innocent and there's no way he'll let them send me down for something I never done.'
He looked at me thoughtfully when I said that. I could see he was making up his mind about something. When he finally spoke, it come as a big surprise to me.
'I could help you there,' he said finally. 'Does your Dad know any criminal defence lawyers?'
'I don't know. But he'll find someone.'
'I could put you on to someone,' he said. 'She's someone who handled a case for a friend of mine a couple of years ago. She's absolutely brilliant at dealing with the police too. And she's the type of person who, if she thinks you're innocent, will fight for you all the way. Not like these career lawyers who just do it for the money and couldn't care less if they're representing an obviously guilty serial killer or someone – like you – who's an innocent victim. Tell you what, I'll text you her phone number tonight and you can ask your Dad to give her a ring.'
'Thanks, Chris.'
When I got home Dad was still out at work. Mum was all nice to me which made a change and when Dad did get back he told me the bad news.
'I've had a word with people I know at work about finding a good criminal lawyer to represent you, so I have. I've spoken to a couple of them today and one of them wanted so much money I had to say no and the other one seemed like a total eejit, so he did. I'll have to keep trying, Lin. We'll get someone good, you can trust me to find you the best.'
'Funny you should say that,' I told him. 'A mate of mine at school said he'd text me the number of a woman he reckoned was a brilliant criminal defence lawyer. Apparently she'd got a mate of his off a couple of years ago when they were wrongly accused. He said we ought to use her.'
I checked my mobile and sure enough, there was a text from Chris. I read the details back to Dad.
'Emma Donnelly, solicitor, number....'
Dad took down the details and nodded.
'I'll try, so's I will. I wonder if she'd be in now?'
Lawyers kept such funny hours it wasn't impossible. Six o'clock in the evening you'd expect them to be out down the pub or wherever they go when they've finished in court but it was worth a try. Dad picked up the phone and dialled her number.
After the usual rigmarole of talking to her secretary he was finally put through to the lawyer herself.
'Emma Donnelly,' she said. 'Can I help you?'
'The name's Louis McGrath,' said Dad. 'I'm calling on behalf of my daughter Linda, so I am.'
'I see. And what's the problem?'
I could see Dad getting slightly agitated while he talked to her. I wondered why. Anyway, he ran briefly through the situation with Meg's murder and the fact that the police now considered me a possible suspect.
'Could you meet me at my office around 4.30 tomorrow afternoon?'
'I'll have to get time off work, but yes, we can be there.'
'Good. See you there, then.'
Dad put the phone down and glared at me.
'Sure, you didn't tell me she was Irish, did you?'
'I didn't know. But you're Irish!' I protested.
'Ay, but I'm Irish and British. She's one of those Irish – the sort that drove me out of my own hometown, so they did. I'll give you any money the wee lass is an IRA supporter, so I will.'
'Oh well, if you're not happy with her, Dad, we can always try someone else. It was only because Chris suggested her to me. He was only trying to be helpful.'
'I'm sure he was, Linda. But I've a bad feeling about this Donnelly woman. I suppose the best thing is to see her tomorrow and if she's no good I'll look around for another lawyer. Don't fret yourself, girl. You know I'll do right by you.'
'I know you will, Dad.'
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Post by Big Lin on Oct 20, 2012 15:41:12 GMT
Chapter Seven
Next day I was just waiting for the visit to the lawyer. I finished school, got home andDad, like he said he would, had got time off work. I got into the car and he drove me off to the office in Great Wenlock.
When we arrived the receptionist buzzed through and then she told us to go into the lawyer's office. We went in and then she stood up to greet us.
'Emma Donnelly,' she said.
'Louis McGrath and my daughter Linda.'
'Right. Well, you'd best sit down and we'll go over the whole story.'
Emma Donnelly had a fiery mop of red hair perched upon her head. She had piercing eyes that seemed to look right through you and she had a restless energy about her. She looked about thirty years old. What struck me most of all, though, was that she was obviously a lesbian.
As someone who'd been loving another girl myself, I knew at once that she was same-sex orientated. I could also tell from the way she looked at me that she saw that I at least swung both ways.
'So, Linda, why do you think the police look on you as a suspect?'
I didn't really know the answer to that one but I had to say something. All I had to go on was what Conway had told me.
'Well, I found the body, and we were lovers, and they think that gives me a motive for murder. I've also done drugs and a lot of petty crime, though I was lucky enough not to get caught. I've been known to lose my rag and get a bit – violent, I suppose. So basically that's how come they're picking on me.'
'I see,' said Emma Donnelly. 'And I hope you'll not be offended if I make my next question the obvious one. Did you kill Megan White?'
'Of course not,' I said angrily. 'I loved Meg. I could never have hurt her. I told the coppers that, of course.'
'Well, that's a start. Now have they asked you any more questions since you saw them last?'
'No.'
'Good. The moment they do you must tell them at once that you won't say a word unless I'm present at the interview. My guess is that they're fishing but you can't be sure. Which officers have you seen?'
'DS Conway and DI Turner,' Dad told her.
'I see. Well, to be honest with you, it could be a lot worse. At least you've got two of the best people handling the investigation. Neither of them is going to bring charges against anyone unless they're fairly confident of getting a conviction. I wish I could say the same about some of the eejit coppers I've had to deal with.'
Dad leaned forward in his chair, eagerly asking the question that was worrying the hell out of both of us.
'What do you think my daughter's chances are, Miss Donnelly?'
'Of being charged? I'd have to dig deeper into the police case to give you an honest answer. I simply don't know what actual evidence they've got. It's one thing to have suspicions, but it's a long step from that to bringing charges against someone.'
'And if she is charged? I've got to know the worst that can happen.'
'Well, if the police feel they have enough evidence to charge Linda, then I'll begin preparing her defence, of course. In any case I'd best look into what exactly the forensics people say about the murder.'
'And if the worst happens – and the case goes to trial?'
The lawyer looked across at both of us, a confident expression on her face.
'Then we fight it tooth and nail until we win.'
'But just supposing we lose?'
'Mr. McGrath,' she said quietly. 'I have been a criminal lawyer for some years now. I have represented clients on over thirty occasions and I've yet to lose a case.'
'But what if we do lose?'
'Then we file an appeal straight away, of course. Let's worry about such things if they ever come to pass. My guess is you've nothing to worry about on that score.'
'But if we lose – and then we lose the appeal – what then?'
'We keep on appealing until we win. We'll take it all the way to the Supreme Court if we have to. Even the European Court, if necessary.'
'And if we still lose? What sort of sentence would Linda be looking at then?'
The lawyer sighed.
'Bejasus, Mr. McGrath, you are one of life's pessimists, aren't you? There's no way we're going to lose. Trust me on this one.'
Dad gave her a keen look.
'No, you're reading me wrong, Miss Donnelly. It's not that I'm a pessimist – it's just that I need to know the worst. And, of course, what's the likeliest thing to happen to her.'
'Well,' said the lawyer, 'let's take those questions the other way round, shall we? In the first place, the likeliest thing to happen is that no charges are brought and the police don't bother your daughter any more except maybe as a material witness in the trial of the real killer. The worst that could happen is, in my opinion, a long prison sentence.'
'How long?'
Miss Donnelly looked at him almost angrily.
'Well, of course, since the new government's got in they've introduced big changes in the law. Until they reduced the age at which an offender could be looked on as a juvenile to fourteen, I'd have said at worst five years with maybe another couple on top in an adult prison. Now you're talking a minimum of fifteen years up to possible LWOP.'
'You think there's no chance of anything worse?'
'The restored death penalty, you mean? I know the new law says it can be used on offenders as young as fourteen , but I honestly don't think the courts will even think about imposing it on a fifteen-year-old girl. In fact, I think it's unlikely it will ever be imposed on anyone under the age of twenty-one. You won't have to worry about that, Mr. McGrath. Why, even that serial killer they caught recently only got LWOP. Even if Linda did get convicted, which is very unlikely in my opinion, I'd expect her to serve no more than around fifteen years.'
I was in a state of shock when she said that. I could be spending fifteen years in prison for something I hadn't even done! And it could even be worse than that. When she mentioned the words 'the restored death penalty,' a shiver ran down my spine. I might actually be hung for a crime I'd never committed.
'Oh dear God,' I said, in spite of myself. 'You mean I could end up serving fifteen years in prison for something I never did – and they might even hang me?'
'Best not to think that way,' she said. 'Come on, Linda, we're chasing ghosts here. Most likely they won't even bring any charges against you. Your father is only asking me about worst-case scenarios. I've already explained that I don't think it's at all likely to happen. Call me Emma, by the way.'
I wish I could say that I shared her confidence. With the way my luck had been running lately I could already feel the noose tightening around my neck in my vivid imagination. God, it was a horrible thought!
'I'll start off by making a few enquiries about your status as a suspect,' she said. 'I'll stay in touch with you regularly and let you know exactly how things are progressing. You've nothing to worry about, Linda, truly you haven't.'
But I wasn’t at all convinced that she was right. Nor, though he didn't say anything while we were inside Emma's office, did my Dad. Once we were out of there and in his car, there was a long silence before he started driving.
'What do you reckon to her, Dad?' I asked, just to break the tension.
'Hard to be sure. She seems like she knows her stuff but I worry about all that front of confidence she puts on. I know things maybe aren't as black as we've both been fearing, but I'd have rather had her give me the bad news first, so I would, and then try to cheer me up. I don't want to keep hearing how she's never lost a case and how she'll appeal all the way to the European Court, so I don't. She might be a good lawyer but I worry about her putting people's backs up. Maybe it would be best if I found someone else to represent you.'
'It's up to you, Dad,' I said. 'But let's see how far she gets with finding out what evidence the police have got. If she can dig out some stuff there then it might be worth keeping her on.'
'Oh, the hell with it! I don't know what to do, Linda, truly I don't. I just wish we could turn back the clock somehow and have everything the way it was last week.'
'So do I, Dad,' I said quietly. 'This has been the worst week of my whole life.'
'To be sure it has. But we'll get over it, Lin. We always have done and we always will.'
Now it was Dad's optimism that was worrying me. I knew it was put on and he was just whistling in the dark like all of us were but all I could see was that in the eyes of the coppers I was a suspect in a murder enquiry. If I got charged I might be found guilty and I'd spend at least fifteen years in prison and maybe even get executed for something I hadn't even done. God, how much I need you now, I thought. I swear to you if you get me out of this mess I really will try to lead a good life in future. I won't do all the bad things I was doing before and I'll even go to the kirk regular if you'll only help me straighten my life out.
I decided to surf the internet to find out everything I could about the case. Maybe there was stuff out there that could help me find out the truth about Meg's murder and get the toerag who'd really killed her banged up. I'd already looked in the local papers and even the nationals and of course there was a small mention of it on the telly but basically not much hard information was coming out. I knew you could find all sorts of obscure stuff on the web and I decided I might as well start off by trying to find out whatever I could.
The first thing I did was just to do a general Google search for 'Megan White.' Some of the hits were irrelevant but most were about the case. The majority of them were just items from the local paper or the TV newsdesks and told me nothing I didn't already know.
Then I came across a couple of sites that were a bit different. One was called 'Crime Victims,' and gave a summary of all the facts about the case that were already in the public domain. They also mentioned that Meg's sexuality was being treated by the police as a possible motive for murder.
What particularly interested me was their summary of the evidence. They had obviously got no more actual facts than the other sites I'd already looked at but when they laid it out it made it easier to make sense of it all.
What exactly had happened to Meg that day? Apparently she'd been killed at around 10 o'clock in the morning, and her throat had been cut. She had also been hit about the head and body with some kind of blunt instrument, possibly a hammer. In spite of the tears that sprang to my eyes when I read the story of how she was killed, I knew I had to try to study the story objectively. I could help Meg best by bringing her killer to justice. She knew I'd loved her and it went without saying that I'd never get over her horrific murder. What she needed from me now was a cool head. I had to try to approach the thing in the same sort of detached spirit that the police would. It was hard to forget that she was the woman I loved, but I had to put my feelings out of my mind and concentrate on just trying to solve the case.
Much to my frustration, there was no mention of any item that was missing from the crime scene. I'd hoped that maybe the loose-tongued folk on the internet just might have given some clue about what had got the coppers so excited about my discovery.
The other one was a bit more – well, controversial, I suppose. It was a blog that went by the name of 'Getting Tough on Crime' and largely consisted of various rants by the blogger about how soft on crime Britain had become and what sort of new laws he thought ought to be introduced. He'd already got one of his policies adopted when the new government brought back the death penalty. Even so, he was moaning that so far no convicted murderer had been executed. He also wanted to bring back public flogging, corporal punishment in schools, and to deport foreign prisoners back to their own countries when they'd finished their sentences.
I was still curious as to why Google had bothered to throw up this site when I saw, in the section called 'Current Crimes,' a blog about Meg's murder. In it the blogger, who went by the name of Angry Joe, started off by saying that the victim wouldn't have been killed if she hadn't been a lesbian. He thought being gay was a disgusting perversion whether you were a man or woman, and that it ought to be illegal like it used to be. He then went on to say that Meg wasn't an attractive girl so that a normal nonce wouldn't have been interested in her. What Angry Joe reckoned was that she'd been targeted by some bloke who hated lezzies and wanted to wipe them all off the face of the planet.
So far all the moron was making me do was feel like throwing up. I was still wondering why I was bothering to read this crap when he come up with just one tiny nugget of information that I hadn't found anywhere else. It wasn't much but it was my first lead.
'Megan White's body was robbed while she lay on the ground, still conscious though badly injured from the hammer blows to her head. The assailant took two items from her before finishing her off by cutting her throat. One was the knickers she was wearing and the other remains a mystery. Police sources have refused to disclose the precise nature of the items removed by Megan's killer but I have been able to find out that one of them was her knickers. The precise motive for the removal of this item of clothing remains unclear as no damage was done to the victim's genital area, nor was there any evidence of any sexual contact between the victim and her assailant.'
Thank God for that, I muttered. Poor Meg had it bad enough as it was. At least she wasn't raped or hurt too bad before she died. Now what would make a bloke steal a pair of knickers? Was her murderer a transvestite killer? Or was he just one of the blokes I'd heard about who got off on the smell of girls' dirty knickers?
The rest of his blog was just a load of bollocks about how young girls ought to be careful and in particular about how they shouldn't let themselves get trapped in the disgusting perversions of lesbian sex. He rounded it off with just one more interesting point, that the police were 'currently investigating two main possible lines of enquiry, one that she was killed by a lesbian lover in a fit of jealousy and the other that she was the victim of a hate crime. So far' – and this part was news to me – 'the police have interviewed two female suspects and four male ones.'
That last sentence got me really excited. I started wondering who it could be that the coppers had been talking to. I knew already that I was one of the girls they'd interviewed but who was the other one? I supposed that the two blokes I thought that I might have seen were probably two of the four men who'd been interviewed, but that still left two that I didn't know about.
I was just starting to get excited when the cold air of reality blew itself through my brain. Come on, Lin, if the coppers can't find out who killed her what makes you think you can? You're a fifteen-year-old girl, for goodness sake. Not even turned sixteen yet. What on earth makes you think you can solve this murder?
The only thing I had going for me was that I knew Meg. I knew her mates, her family and the people who didn't like her. Not that there was many of them, and all of them were hard-core homophobes who'd (in some cases) felt the rough end of my tongue or even been on the end of a good hiding from me.
Now that I was a suspect in the case, I wondered if I dared ring up Carol and John and talk to them about things. In some ways they knew their daughter even better than me. And anyway, I felt I owed it to them to make them realise that I'd loved Meg too much even to hurt her. There was no way I'd ever have been the one to kill her.
In spite of how nervous I felt, I couldn't stop myself. I was pretty sure that the coppers would have been discreet but they still might have told them that I was one of their suspects. There was only one way to be sure and I dreaded having to do it.
Trembling with a deep sense of fear and shame, I picked up my mobile and dialled their number. Meg's father answered the phone.
'Hi there,' I said. 'It's Linda McGrath. I just wondered if the police had been to see you.'
There was a brief silence before I got an answer.
'Yes, they did.'
'And did they tell you I'm... a ... suspect?'
There was a slightly longer silence before he answered that one.
'Yes, they told us that.'
I could hardly believe my ears though I suppose I shouldn't really have been surprised. After all, they were consumed by grief. They didn't know who had killed their daughter and for all they knew it might have been me.
'You know I could never have hurt Meg, don't you?' I said quietly. 'I don't know who did kill her but it wasn't me. Please believe me. I want to see whoever did murder her brought to justice. Do you honestly think I could ever have killed the woman I loved?'
There was a long silence after I'd said that. For a moment I wondered if he was going to put the phone down on me altogether. Then, just as I'd given up hope of getting an answer at all, I heard his voice again.
'Linda, for what it's worth I don't think you did kill Megan. I don't know who did and I do admit that I was shocked and – well, frankly disgusted to find out that you'd had a – lesbian relationship with my daughter. But I don't think you murdered her, no. And I've talked it over with Carol and she's absolutely convinced that you couldn't have killed Megan. So, for what it's worth, we don't think it was you.'
'Thank you, Mr White,' I said, relieved by his kind words.
'It's still John, Linda,' he said quietly. 'I don't understand how you and Megan – well, maybe I'm old-fashioned but I've always believed that – sort of thing – should only go on between men and women. But I honestly do think you loved her and that you would never have harmed her in any way. So it's still John and Carol.'
'Thanks, John,' I said. 'It means the world to me to know that you both still believe in me.'
And it did too. It was almost unbearable trying to get over the loss of Meg as it was, and the police thinking I was a suspect was terrible, but if John and Carol had said they thought I might have killed their daughter my world would have collapsed even more than it already had.
There was only one more question I had to ask.
'John, did the coppers tell you what it was that was taken from Meg's body? Or do you know anyway?'
Again there was a long silence before he answered.
'I honestly don't know,' he said finally. 'I've been over it in my mind lots of times. That Sergeant Conway told me there were two items missing but the only one I know about was – an article of clothing. What the other thing was I have no idea. Sorry I can't be more helpful.'
'That's all right, John,' I told him. 'I'm just trying to catch the killer myself and I thought if I knew what it was the police were looking for it would help a lot.'
Well, I wasn't much further forward than I had been before but at least I knew John and Carol still didn't reckon I was the one who'd killed Meg. Even though right now my whole world was cakey as fuck, that meant everything to me. Suddenly I had a really wild idea. This Angry Joe had come up with a few facts on his blog I'd never found anywhere else. I wondered if I wrote to him and asked him straight out about things whether he'd tell me? And if I did write to him, should I come clean and tell him that I was one of the suspects in the murder? Or was that too wacky and lilli an idea even for me?
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Post by Big Lin on Oct 23, 2012 2:49:40 GMT
A Death too Far
Chapter Eight
I thought long and hard over exactly how much I should tell Angry Joe. In the end I decided to hold a lot of stuff back and see how he reacted. If it felt right maybe I could be more open with him after a while.
I started off by telling him that I was a friend of Meg's. I didn't say any more than that about our relationship especially because he obviously hated lesbians and the whole point was to get him to loosen up, not to piss him off.
After explaining that I was intrigued to hear that the police had interviewed four men and two women already, I came right out and asked him point-blank if he had any more information he was holding back on. Who were the two female suspects? Who were the four blokes?
I posted my reply to his blog and waited. Nothing happened for a while and I was just about to give up when I finally saw a new post.
'This is Angry Joe to the stupid girl who's just asked me to divulge confidential information about the Megan White murder. Don't waste your time playing me for a fool. Unless you can give me a good reason for taking you seriously rather than just being a kid in search of sensationalism you can get lost.'
I got quite excited when I read that. I sat right down and penned a short but to the point message.
'I don't know what you'd call a good reason but I think being one of the suspects in her murder might make you take me seriously.'
I waited and then there was a long silence. I'd almost given up hope when I got A message on the screen.
'Go to my secure server url and post a message there. If I think you're genuine I'll talk about the case with you.'
Now I was really excited about things. I had to weigh things up very carefully. It did cross my mind that Angry Joe might actually be the killer and so I had to watch out in case he decided to take me out as well as poor Meg. I gave a couple of minutes thought to what I should say. In the end, I gave him just a little.
'I was Megan White's lesbian lover,' I began. 'She and I often went into the woods together. I taught her lots of stuff about nature and she taught me loads about love. It was me who found her body in the woods.'
There was no immediate reply but then I guess he was trying to sus me out too. Was I just some sensationalist nut or maybe even the killer? Then the dialogue began.
'Why do the police think you might have killed her?'
'I don't know. I suppose it's because we were lovers and I found the body and I've done a lot of stupid things in my time.'
'And did you kill her?'
'No way. I loved her. I'd never have hurt her.'
'And how do you feel about the person who murdered her?'
'If I met them, and I was sure it was them, I'd probably kill them myself.'
'I see. What do you want to know?'
'I'm not exactly sure,' I said honestly. 'First off, I reckon you know a lot more than you've been letting on in your website. Even her parents don't know what the other thing that was taken from her body was. Do you?'
'Why would I tell you if I did?'
'Because I'm desperate to try to find her killer.'
'And what makes you think you can do better than the police?'
'Oh, I don't know. It's just – I feel I ought to be doing something. It's doing my head in just waiting and brooding about it all. Anyhow, I don't reckon they've got much in the way of leads, to judge from how they was talking to me.'
'Next question.'
'Who are the other suspects the coppers have interviewed?'
'A local girl and some local men.'
'You got any names?'
'You haven't given me your name, have you?'
He had me there, I suppose. But what difference would it make? If he had any real contacts with the gavers he could probably find it out easy enough.
'Linda McGrath,' I told him.
'OK, Linda,' he said, after a short pause, 'that checks out with my information on one of the two girls the police have interviewed. You're the youngest suspect, by the way. The other girl is eighteen and the men are older than that.'
'And how serious are they as suspects?'
'How many times have you talked to the police?'
'About six times now, I suppose.'
'Well, that's less than any of the other suspects. I'll tell you that much.'
'And are they likely to bring charges any time soon?'
'How soon is soon?'
'Can't you tell me anything more? Please, I'm begging you.'
There was another pause and then he finally sent me a message.
'I'll think about it. I'll be in touch if I decide to keep you posted.'
Then he just stopped transmitting. I stared at the screen in frustration and anger but I could already see there was no point in expecting anything else. He was obviously a control freak and I had a feeling he would get back to me sometime. Just maybe not sometime soon, though.
I tried to do a sort of psychological profile of Angry Joe. What sort of bloke was he really? Did he have inside information? Was he a cop, or a journalist, or maybe a lawyer? Or was he – and I felt myself come over all cold and clammy when I thought about that – maybe even the killer?
Nothing happened for the next half hour so I just checked my e-mails, did some more surfing and tried to keep myself focused on other sides of life. I knew how hard it was for me to put my mind to anything besides Meg's murder, but I had to try.
Half an hour passed when suddenly a message flashed up on the screen. I was almost shaking with excitement as I looked at it.
'I don't think it's any of the suspects the police have interviewed so far,' he said. 'There's obviously another person that we don't know about yet. They killed Megan.'
'What makes you so sure?'
'I'd try a couple of places you might know. The Blue Angel and the Black Cat. I have a feeling you might discover something that would give you some fresh ideas.'
'Thanks.'
'I'll be in touch. Probably tomorrow. Let me know how you got on tonight.'
'I will.'
Then he stopped transmitting again. After the fiasco at the Angel the last thing I felt like doing was bumping into those morons again, but if it could help find Meg's murderer it would be worth the risk. The Black Cat intrigued me. It was a gay and lesbian bar – about the only one for miles around – and presumably that was where I might find this eighteen-year old girl who the gavers had rousted out already. Me and Meg had been there a few times – we both looked older than we were and I don't reckon the management of the place cared much about underage drinking anyhow – but it was a bit too weird even for me. And I had promised Uncle Jimmy'd I'd give up The lezzy sex and all. Oh well, it's all in the way of research, that's what I'll say. He'll understand that I have to do everything I can to try and catch Meg's killer.
That night I got myself togged up in some fairly lezzy looking gear and took off for the Black Cat. Mum looked at me halfway between horror and disgust but I told her I wasn't going to do anything stupid. I also reminded her that I'd promised Uncle Jimmy not to do any more dyke stuff so she didn't have to worry about that. She wasn't happy about it but she let me go.
Inside the Black Cat the scene wasn't great. If I'd been going there looking to hook-up with another les I'd have been dead disappointed. They were a right bunch of no-hopers and no mistake. I couldn't see a single one of them I fancied, to be honest. I just strutted my stuff and hoped someone would come and pick me up before I died of boredom. Even the DJ was playing total shite. It was almost as boring as listening to all that New Age music stuff. I wished I hadn't given up scoring Es as I could have done with some of that to get me through the dirge the stupid bitch in charge of the turntables was ramming down my ears.
Eventually I got lucky, if you can call it that. A skinny, anorexic-looking girl about eighteen years old wandered over to the bar where I was sitting moodily, sipping an overpriced Southern Comfort. She was tall like me, not quite as tall, I reckoned her as being about 180 to my 185, and she looked a right looper from where I was standing.
'Hi, I'm Paula,' she said, in a voice that was flat monotone like you'd expect from someone who's just scored a massive hit of skunk. 'This your first time here?'
'No,' I told her. 'But it's been a while. How about you?'
'Oh, I come here a lot,' she said. 'It's not that – easy – for – well, for women like me to find – partners in this part of the world.'
I laughed out loud when she said that. I knew exactly what she meant. That was half the trouble with me and Meg – hardly anyone in our neck of the woods thought that what we was doing was anything other than disgusting.
'Yeah, I know that one,' I said. 'Name's Linda.'
'How long have you – I mean...'
'Two years. And you?'
'About a year. I haven't found it easy, though. That's why I keep coming to this dive in the hope that someday I might strike lucky and find someone who's worthwhile.'
'So it's all been casual, like, then?'
'I'm afraid so. I've never been lucky enough to meet anyone who I felt able to form a proper – relationship – with. Have you?'
I sighed. This was the point where I had to control my feelings bigtime. For all I knew this lezzy in front of me might even have been the one who killed my darling Meg.
'Yeah, I did,' I said. 'For two whole years I lived in the love of another girl. It was wonderful and she was wonderful.'
'Was? You broke up? She moved away? Found someone else?'
'Not exactly, no. The girl I loved was murdered.'
She stared at me in horror when I said that. I knew at once that I'd struck gold. This ugly bitch was almost certainly the other girl the gavers had given a grilling to about Meg's death.
'You don't mean ... you weren't ... Megan White's ... girl?'
'Yes, I was,' I told her. 'I loved her from the bottom of my heart and now she's dead. All I can do is hang on the best I can. Know her yourself, did you?' I asked, as casual as I could manage.
'Yes, I knew her,' she said quietly. 'We were lovers for a while.'
I almost hit her when she said that. How could she say something like that about my poor dear Meg? No one had loved her as much as I did and this ugly looper was putting what she reckoned she had with her on the same level as our love?
I fought hard to control my terrible Aries temper. I swigged another mouthful of the Southern Comfort and wished I could light up a fag and all. Instead I just gave her a long hard look.
'When would that be?' I asked her quietly.
'It started about six months ago,' she said. 'I met her here one night and we liked each other a lot. We had sex quite a few times and eventually I told her how I felt about her. She said that she liked me but that she didn't want to get serious with me. I asked her if it was just me or if there was someone else. She said that she had a steady lover already and she wanted to stick with her. That must have been you.'
'Yes,' I almost whispered, choking back the ars that sprang to my eyes. 'That was me.'
'I'm sorry,' she said, to my surprise. 'I didn't really believe her, to be honest. When she said she had someone else, I mean. Not that I blame her, mind. Specially since I've met you and all. I mean, you're a looker and that. Not like me. Or her, comes to that.'
'Looks isn't everything,' I said quietly. 'I loved her.'
'Yeah, I can see you did. And it was you found the ... her body?'
'Yeah, it was me,' I almost whispered.
'So I guess you've had the coppers bending your ear a fair bit.'
'Too right,' I told her. 'What about you? Seeing as you was one of her ... lovers, I mean.'
'Yeah, I had them breathing down my neck a bit and all. Course, they gave me all the usual bollocks – just routine, trying to eliminate people from their enquiries, stuff like that. But I knew they was just bullshitting me. They reckoned it was me what done her in but I couldn't do nothing like that. Why would I, for fuck's sake? Just because we had sex don't mean I killed her, does it? I mean, we'd already broken up as it was, hadn't we? She told me she had someone else and didn't want what we had to go all serious. I was fine about that and I just let it go. How about you?'
I sighed and wondered how much I ought to tell this Paula girl. By the looks of it I reckoned she was in the clear but she could just be putting it on and I wasn't always the sharpest knife in the drawer when it come to sussing out two-faced people, was I?
'Yeah, they gave me a hard time and all. I've heard they always suspect lovers and the one what finds the body so they had two strikes against me, innit? They kept on asking me if I knew what she'd had on her when I found her body. Well, how would I know that? It wasn't like I knew she was going to be in the woods. OK, she went there a lot, but not regular, like. It was just something she did now and again. But I loved her, you know. I never would have hurt her. Oh, shit!'
I knew I ought to have controlled myself better but I suddenly felt sick and sad when I thought of dear Meg lying dead in the woods and how I'd never see her again. Not this side of heaven, anyhow, if there is a heaven and if I'm good enough to go there some day and join her. I just broke down and cried. I couldn't help myself. Paula just stared at me but didn't say nothing.
'What a fucking heap of shit!' I said angrily when I'd finally stopped crying. 'I still don't know why it had to be her. What harm did she ever do anyone?'
'These psycho blokes don't care about stuff like that, do they? Who knows what makes them tick?'
'Yeah, you're not wrong there. How long ago did you and her ... stop seeing each other?'
'Not that long ago,' she said. 'Just three weeks gone, actually. I remember the day because it was the last time I come here to the Black Cat. She'd arranged to meet me here and said she had something important to tell me.'
'And did she?'
'Well, that's the funny thing, not really. She met me here and we chatted for a bit and then we went off outside for a bit of draw and then she just said she couldn't see me anymore. I asked her why and she said there was someone else. I asked her if it was serious and she said, yes, it was. I just said OK and left it at that. I didn't ask her who it was. I mean, it weren't none of my business, really, know what I mean? And I never saw her alive again after that.'
I reckoned she was telling me the truth about that. She might have been the best con artist around but I didn't think so. What she said made a lot of sense. At least, as much as anything made sense in this whole pile of shit.
The only thing puzzled me a bit was why Meg had chosen to tell her that she couldn't see her anymore just then. I mean, it was only three weeks ago. What was so different about her and me from how we'd been before? I couldn't work that one out.
I tried to cast my mind back and see if I could point to anything different about her over the last three weeks. She seemed the same Meg as ever to me. I couldn't see any sense in what was so special about then. And why did she tell Paula she'd got someone else when we'd been an item for ages? I just couldn't see it.
I'd had enough of the place and her and all the memories of my dear dead Meg. I walked out and lit up a fag and blew the smoke out into the air with a sense of relief. Well, I was a bit further forward than I had been, even if it did mean I'd probably have to eliminate this Paula as a suspect in Meg's murder.
One down, four to go, I whispered to myself as I made my way back home in the still cold night.
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Post by Hunny on Oct 23, 2012 14:29:52 GMT
Wow. Now, do I remember right? You only have 8 chapters written? And does that mean you'll write more? lol, soon? I've been enjoying reading this. I mean it's very tragic, of course, but it does make a great book! Can we see more? The rest?
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Post by Big Lin on Oct 23, 2012 19:19:09 GMT
I've written another chapter and started on chapter ten but abandoned it about a year ago.
To be honest this book is a fictionalised account of real events in my life which I've put forward in time (when the real murder happened it was in a different part of the country, the internet wasn't freely available and I made similar changes to the story).
In chapter ten I confronted my ghosts head on and after only one page I couldn't bring myself to write any more.
I'll post chapter nine but whether I ever find the mental strength to complete this particular book I don't know. It's traumatic as well as cathartic.
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Post by Big Lin on Oct 24, 2012 15:27:27 GMT
Chapter Nine
Tomorrow was another day, they say. I tried to make sense out of what had gone down at the Black Cat but I still couldn't. Maybe I'd have more luck at the Blue Angel. Then again, after what happened with the morons last time, maybe not.
I got all impatient to see if Angry Joe had got any more to give me. I logged on and went straight to his secure server url and posted a message.
'Linda McGrath here. Went to the Black Cat last night. Reckon I met the other girl the coppers was rousting out. Would her name be Paula?'
To my surprise I got an immediate answer from him.
'Ten out of ten. What did you make of her?'
'I don't think she killed Meg, if that's what you mean. Not that you can ever be really sure about anyone, but I don't reckon it was her. How many times did the Old Bill pull her in?'
'Eight times.'
'I'm a bit surprised at that, to be honest. Wonder why?'
'She'd been having a lesbian ... relationship and then Megan White broke it off. That could have been a motive for murder.'
'But you don't reckon it was her, do you?'
'I'm still keeping an open mind on all possibilities. Don't forget you're still one of the official suspects.'
'Yeah, all right. But at least I know it wasn't me.'
'Tonight I want you to go to the Blue Angel and see if you can find any likely suspects there. I'm not saying they will be there or that they're necessarily guilty but I think you'll find it worth your while.'
'Why are you making me do all this, Joe? What's your game? For all I know you could be the killer!'
There was a brief silence and then he sent me a smilie across the screen.
'Good girl, you're starting to think like me. Yes, I might be the killer but that's for you to find out. Actually, I'm not but at least you're not making the mistake of just trusting me. Anymore than I am of trusting you.'
I got my wild up a bit when he said that.
'I don't know why you should reckon it was me that killed Meg. I loved her!'
'Well, dear Linda, love is one of the oldest motives for murder in the world. Other than money it's probably the biggest single reason that people kill each other.'
'What do you want me to look out for at the Angel?'
'Well, I think you're probably streetwise enough to identify suspicious men by now. I know you've already had a run-in with a few local lads and one of them is lucky to be alive by all accounts. I don't think he'll be giving you any more trouble but maybe it's taught you to control your temper a bit more.'
'Temper!' I said angrily. 'The fucking bastards wanted to rape me! I was only defending myself. Anyhow, he pulled out his blade first.'
'I think it's safe to assume that someone who commits a murder like this will be rather more sophisticated that the bunch of yokels who tried it on with you, Linda. I'm not saying the murderer might not be a regular at the pub but I don't think it's the three lads you had your little ... disagreement with, shall we say.'
'You got anything else for me?'
'You are impatient, aren't you? Let's see. Paula Metcalfe, the girl you met. Had you ever seen her before?'
'No.'
'Not even at the Black Cat?'
'I weren't exactly a regular there. Once me and Meg was an item I didn't need to go to them sort of places to pick someone up.'
'Well, young Paula is a regular there. I have my eyes and ears inside the place and she certainly does go there on a weekly basis. She had other girls besides Megan and by all accounts Megan picked up quite a few of her conquests from the Cat.'
I almost exploded when he said that. It was making it all sound so dirty. Meg had loved me, hadn't she? She didn't need to go to the Cat for a bit of rough.
'She weren't no fucking slag,' I told him. 'Meg and me loved each other. She knew what we had was special. Why would she go to that place to pick up tarts?'
'Ah, the human heart,' he said. 'One of the greatest mysteries of life. You had sex with her but you wanted love, didn't you?'
'Yeah, of course.'
'Maybe it was the same for her. But maybe she also wanted to have a more – casual type of sexual relationship as well. Maybe she wanted to do things with other girls she couldn't do with you.'
'I don't know what you mean. We loved each other. We done almost everything there was to do, I reckon.'
'Maybe so, but maybe there are secrets that even you didn't know about. You might find there were a lot of skeletons in her closet. I think that if you started digging deeper into her private life you might find out a lot of things about Megan that would really surprise you. You might have a very different idea about her then.'
'I loved her and she loved me,' I said angrily. 'That's all that matters. I mean, you could be right, maybe she did have other girls now and then, but she weren't no fucking slag. Meg was a good girl with a wonderful heart.'
'She was a sixteen-year old girl. Did you really think the two of you would be spending the rest of your lives together in some happy lesbian love story? This is real life, Linda, not a Mills and Boon novel. Whatever you think now, she would have left you sooner or later. Teenage crushes! How often do they ever develop into true love? Use your brain, girl. The two of you were never going to become an item.'
Then he cut the connection dead. I was steaming mad with him, especially the way he'd been bad-mouthing Meg to me like she was some total fucking slut. I had half a mind to tell him to shove it and not even bother to go to the Angel tonight. Then I reckoned I didn't have nothing to lose, did I? The bastard was playing me like a fish and I still wondered if he was the killer but he certainly knew a lot more about things than I did.
He's probably a gaver, I decided. Typical cop, to be such a sadist and to get me all worked up and ... but why? What was the point of his game anyhow? What did he get out of seeing me chase around all over the place?
Suddenly I went all cold again. I honestly started to get a bad feeling about the whole thing. Isn't the way he was carrying on the sort of way the murderer might be doing? Wasn't the most likely thing that the reason he knew so much was because he was the one who killed her?
On the other hand, he still knew a lot about what the coppers were getting up to. He seemed to have inside info on the investigation that hadn't got out to the public. I didn't reckon Joe was his real name anyhow.
Was he a cop? Or maybe a journalist? Or was he just someone who had cop friends, maybe even a lover? None of it made any sense to me.
I just thought about it long and hard but the only thing I was sure of was that if he was enjoying making a fool of me he'd want it to carry on a bit longer. Maybe the best thing was for me to go to the Angel and see what happened. At least it was a plan. I didn't have any better ideas so I decided to go along with it.
I went out again that evening and dressed up a bit different this time. I didn't want to look like a les if I was hoping to score blokes, did I? So I went there, togged up the best I could, and went down to the boozer and stood about waiting for someone to come over and buy me an alleviator.
I didn't have to wait that long before some spotty kid who looked all of sixteen come up to me. He gave me a slow grin and then asked me if I wanted a drink.
'No, you're all right,' I told him. 'I was waiting for someone a bit older, actually.'
'Well, fuck you, then!' he said.
'Fuck you and all,' I told him.
Then I stood about in the middle of the room, not wanting to prop up the bar else the landlord would start asking me stupid questions like how come I hadn't got a drink in my hand and stuff like that. It took around five minutes but then another bloke come up.
This one looked about twenty, maybe twenty-one, years old. At least he was a bit better looking than the snotty-nosed git who'd tried to chat me up before. OK, there was no way you'd call him a looker, but at least he weren't a positive turn-off like that young toerag who'd tried it on earlier.
'Fancy a drink?'
'Yeah, I could go for that,' I told him.
'What're you having, then?'
'Rum and pep,' I said.
I wanted to look a bit more sophisticated than I really was. My normal tipple was a pint of the strongest ale they had, but tonight I thought I might be better off trying something different.
He went over to the bar and returned with my rum and peppermint. I noticed he had a pint in his hand so I reckoned he didn't go much for spirits or cocktails or any of the fancy drinks.
'What's your name?'
'Linda.'
'I'm Gary.'
'Pleased to meet you, Gary.'
'Pleased to meet you, Linda. Don't mind me asking but ... how old are you?'
'Old enough,' I lied. 'That's all you need to know.'
Well, I weren't going to let on I still hadn't turned sixteen yet, was I? Especially in a pub where I'd get barred at once if the landlord heard me admitting it.
'Shall we take our drinks outside? It'd be easier to talk in the beer garden.'
'Yeah, OK.'
So we went outside and sat down at one of the tables in the beer garden. I was quite pleased with the idea because it meant I could have a fag which of course you just couldn't do inside the pub.
I lit up my cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke into the evening air. Gary smiled and took a sip of his drink.
'I've seen you here before, haven't I?' he asked. 'You come here quite a lot, don't you?'
'Now and then,' I admitted.
'You was here with another bird last week, weren't you? Short, fat one, not much of a looker.'
'Maybe,' I said, not wanting to give too much away.
'I heard there was a bit of a to-do last week with you and a few of the lads.'
'Did you now?'
'I heard you stabbed one of the blokes in the breadbasket when he went for you.'
'Oh ah?' I said.
'I heard the three of them was trying to rape you at the time. Course, they was rat-arsed at the time, completely pissed out of their skulls, but they still tried it on and you done them over.'
'Oh ah,' I said, not wanting to be more definite.
'You reckon there might be any laters with that mob?'
'How would I know?'
'And what if there was?'
'If you get taught a lesson once you need to be a total fucking wally to come back for more, don't you?'
He laughed when I said that.
'Yeah, I heard right, then. It was you. Bunch of tossers, them three. Couldn't find their own cocks in the fucking bog from what I've heard. I like you, Linda.'
I wasn't sure how I ought to react to that so I just done the old Shropshire faithful.
'Oh ah?'
'Yeah, I like you a lot, girl. You're well-fit and no mistake. Out of their league, of course. But maybe if a bloke with a bit more ... savvy was to ... show you something a bit different, like. Maybe you could go for that.'
'Maybe. What did you have in mind?'
'I've got a brand new sports car in the car park. Fancy coming out for a spin?'
'Any particular place you had in mind?'
'You call the shots, darling. Tell me where you want to go and I'll drive you there.'
I had to think fast then. Where was there in this dead and alive place on Saturday night that was worth going to? The Blue Angel was in some ways an oasis of fun in the desert of nothingness that was all around.
Then it came to me all of a sudden. I knew it was taking a hell of a risk – maybe even a stupid risk – but I had to give it a try.
'You know the woods?' I asked, all casual, like.
'Yeah, I know them. You want to go there, do you?'
'Yeah, that'd be nice.'
He laughed when I said that. I wasn't sure if it was because he'd already killed in the woods once before and was wondering if he could get away with murder number two or if he was just a randy sod who reckoned I was coming on to him and offering him it on a plate on the cold hard ground.
Either way, I was taking a risk but he wasn't getting any as far as I was concerned whatever angle he had in mind. If I had to, I'd fight for my life; if not, I reckoned a quick kick to the bollocks ought to give me enough time to make my getaway before the perv recovered.
Gary drove me off then. It was quite a cold and dark evening and you could see the stars shining above as we drove. I wished I was still carrying my chiv but I'd given up all that kind of stuff now, hadn't I? Just had to hope my boxing and karate would be able to take care of him if he did get bang out of order.
When we got to the woods I was almost overwhelmed by the enormous feeling of peace and tranquillity that seemed to come out of them. I stared in amazement at the giant oaks and the mighty pine trees that dominated the skyline like skyscrapers built of wood.
'Want to go a bit further inside?' Gary asked.
'Yeah, that'd be good,' I said quietly.
I already knew exactly where I was headed. I wanted to go right back to the spot where I'd found Meg's body laying cold and dead on the ground. I wanted to see if it was possible that just by going there I could somehow sus out what exactly had happened.
'Bit of a nip in the air tonight, but that don't bother you, does it?'
'No, you're all right,' I told him. 'I don't mind the cold that much.'
It wasn't exactly true but it was the cold inside me I was more worried about than any chill in the air. He reached out and put his arm around me and I let him. I just kept on walking, leading him to the spot where I'd found poor dear Meg's body.
When we got there I stopped and looked around. He didn't say or do nothing but I knew I had to start thinking.
'This used to be a special place for me,' I said quietly.
'Oh ah?'
'I used to come here a lot with ... a friend of mine.'
'But you don't anymore?'
'Not for a while.'
'Any special reason?'
What could I say to that? I thought for a minute and then decided to tell him the truth. I had nothing to lose, after all. Did I?
'This is the exact spot where she was killed.'
'Oh ah.'
He gave me a funny look when I said that.
'So why do you want to come back here, then? Not exactly romantic, is it? Or do you get off on the idea of doing it where your mate got done in?'
I almost hit him when he said that but I controlled myself.
'No, I just haven't felt able to face it since then. Not till tonight, anyhow. I don't know what made me want to come here, really. Maybe I shouldn't have done.'
'Your mate,' he said, 'the one what got killed. That Megan White, wasn't it?'
'Yes, it was her.'
'And how do you know she was killed on this very spot?'
'Because it was me what found the body, that's how.'
He went all quiet for a minute.
'Fuck me, that's heavy duty shit!' he said finally. 'So it was you what found her body?'
'Yeah, it was me. Everything's sort of changed in my life since then.'
'Oh ah?'
'Yeah, it all seems cakey as fuck. Why would anyone want to murder poor Meg? She never done no harm to nobody, that one.'
'Not so's you know of, anyhow,' he said quietly. 'They reckon there's always some reason why anyone gets done in. Not saying it's a good one, mind, but there's always some reason.'
'Like what? What the fuck could make anyone want to murder a poor sweet girl like her?'
'Maybe she weren't as sweet as you reckon she was,' he said.
'How d'you mean?'
'Well, for starters it's all over the shop that she was a les. Maybe some bloke didn't like her handing her cunt over to another bitch instead of giving it a proper seeing-to by a fellow, like. Or maybe she swung both ways. Maybe she had a bloke on the side and either one of her lezzy birds got the hump or maybe the geezer didn't fancy sharing her with a dyke. Could be, couldn't it?'
I was so angry to hear the hateful words that came out of his mouth I almost felt like attacking him there and then. Somehow I fought to control myself and just made out that I wasn't mad as hell with him.
'So what do you reckon to it, Gary?'
'Don't know, myself. Could be all kinds of reasons. I expect you've had to talk to the Old Bill about it.'
'Yeah, I did.'
'What do they reckon to it?'
'Fuck knows. I don't know what they've got to go on, but they ain't telling me shit. Still, I suppose it's early days yet. You ever meet Meg?'
'Yeah, I knew her a bit.'
That surprised the hell out of me. I couldn't imagine how the two of them, even in a small place like Wayside, would have got to meet each other. Except maybe at school, of course, but then he was five years older than Meg, so how could that be?
'Where do you meet up?'
'Oh, that was a year ago. She went on holiday with her parents to Ibiza. We met up there.'
'And ... how did you get on?'
'She were all right, I suppose. Not much of a looker, of course, but there was something about her that really got you going. That Megan was one sexy fucking slut when she put out, for sure. I've never had better sex in my life, to be honest.'
When he said that I broke down and burst into tears. How could he say such hateful things about the woman I loved? How could he trash her memory and tell such lies about her?
'Hey, you're all right, luv. So she was your mate and I fucked her on holiday. Ain't a crime, is it? Well, I suppose it might have been cause she was only 15, but then a 20-year old fucking a 15-year old girl ain't exactly being a nonce, is it?'
If I hadn't needed to try and pump him for information I would have killed the scumbag on the spot with my bare hands. I was choking with rage but I had to control myself and keep my cool.
'It's so horrible to think of her dead,' I said quietly. 'It sort of makes everything seem so ... pointless, if you know what I mean. Life's minging sometimes, innit?'
'Gets you like that sometimes. I liked Megan a lot, actually. Even when we got back from Spain we still saw each other regular.'
'For sex?'
'Yeah, but not just that. She weren't just a quick fuck in my eyes, know what I mean? In a funny sort of way she had a bit of class about her.'
'Yeah, I know what you mean. Where did you use to meet?'
'Oh, loads of places. Even in the woods sometimes. She used to like it when I fucked her hard under the open sky. Mostly, though, it was in my Dad's garage. We had a lot of fun in that place, I can tell you. And none of it was to do with cars neither!'
I was almost speechless with grief. I felt utterly betrayed by the woman I'd loved so hopelessly, so senselessly, for two long years. And all that time she'd not only been cheating on me with other girls but had even had at least one boyfriend! If you could call what they had together being boyfriend and girlfriend, that is.
I stared down at the ground beneath my feet, watching my tears trickle down slowly onto the hard earth. How could I live with what I'd found out about Meg? How could I feel the same undying love for her ever again? I'd been a right fool, and now I felt empty and dirty inside. I'd given my love to someone who hadn't loved me back even though I'd been stupid enough to think that they had.
'You knew she was ... she liked to have sex with girls?'
'Oh, yeah, she was quite open about that. She was up for anything, that one. She'd try almost any new idea there was when it come to sex.'
'And did she ... did she ever talk about any girls in particular?'
'Yeah, she talked about one in particular,' he smiled. 'She talked about you.'
'Me?'
'Yeah, Linda, she talked about you.'
'And what ... what did she say about me?'
I could hardly bear to hear the answer but I knew I had to. Even though it was probably going to bring my dream world of our love as two sisters crashing down round me I still had to hear it.
'She told me that she loved you,' he said quietly. 'She said she felt about you in a way that no one else made her feel. No other girl, nor bloke neither. Sure, she swung both ways, and she told me that sometimes she got pissed off with the way you was towards her. All bossy, like, she meant. But she also said that she loved you and she wondered how she was going to break the news to you.'
'What news would that be?'
'Ah yeah. That was the hard bit. She told me you was like a sister, a friend, a mum and a lover all rolled into one. She told me she felt closer to you than anyone else in the world. But there was one thing she wanted that you could never give her.'
'What was that?' I almost whispered, trembling in fear and shame.
'She wanted a baby, Linda, that's what. And she knew you could never give her that. So she went with me and a few other geezers besides. She was looking for a stud to give her a baby.'
'I didn't know,' I sobbed. 'I had no idea.'
'Well, of course not. Hardly anyone knew. Only me and I suppose the other blokes she went with trying to get pregnant.'
'And ... and did she ... get pregnant, I mean?'
'That's what I heard. She told me two months ago she'd missed a period and then she done one of them pregnancy kit tests and it come back positive. Last month she went to the doctor and he confirmed she was going to have a baby.'
'Dear God, I never knew. So when they murdered her they killed the baby too?'
'No, Linda, because she changed her mind, that's why. Three weeks ago she came to me and told me, Gary, I've looked at the times and I reckon it's your kid. What are you going to do about it?'
'And what did you say?'
'I said I weren't going to do nothing about it. I only had her word it was mine, and I didn't fancy being a Dad just yet, so I told her I wouldn't have nothing to do with it. She went all wild on me then and then she come back a few days later and told me she'd had an abortion. I just said it's your business, nothing to do with me.'
My eyes filled with tears as I imagined the feelings of hope and anticipation of the love she'd planned to give to her unborn baby dashed so suddenly by the heartless words of the uncaring Gary. I wanted to hit him but what good would it do? My whole world of make-believe had come tumbling down around my ears and I was forced to live with the new reality. Yes, Meg did love me but because I had a cunt instead of a cock and couldn't give her babies, she'd gone with blokes, toerags the lot of them probably, just to try and make her own dream come true. And then when Gary had told her he didn't want nothing to do with being a father, she'd killed the baby rather than bring it up on her own.
I sat down on the hard ground, suddenly feeling very sick. It had been a hell of an evening and I couldn't take it all in somehow. All that I knew was that the Meg I'd loved and thought I knew so well was half a stranger to me. I really hadn't seen deep enough inside that heart of hers or I'd have known how she felt and maybe I could have found a way to help her get through the pain.
I lifted up my eyes and stared at Gary hard. I wondered if he could have been the killer. It wasn't exactly a question I could ask him straight out but I had to try and get to it somehow.
'So what happened after that?'
'Nothing happened. I never saw her again. Then, of course, I heard the news she'd been murdered. Oh, don't get me wrong, I was sad to hear it. Like I said, she was a nice girl. But I don't know nothing about what happened after her and me broke up.'
'I see,' I almost whispered. 'Oh, fuck, life's total shite sometimes, innit? How the fuck is anyone ever happy in this minging world?'
Gary looked at me almost sympathetically. He put his hand on my shoulder and then lifted me up.
'Come on, girl, I reckon it's time you took you back home. Whereabouts do you live? Wayside, right?'
'Yeah, Wayside.'
'What end?'
'Downey.'
'OK, get in and I'll take you home. You look all washed-up.'
'I am pretty knackered,' I admitted.
'Bit of a shock for you, all this. On top of everything else, I mean.'
'Too fucking right it is. Oh Gary, why didn't she come to me? I'd have helped her get through it, honest I would. I loved her, for Christ's sake. I'd have been there for her every step of the way.'
'Maybe you would,' he said. 'But sometimes in life you just have to do things on your own. Megan were like that and all. There was so many sides to her you never really got to know. She was a right mystery, and that's a fact.'
Then I got into the car and we drove back to Downey in virtual silence. I was thinking furiously about what he'd told me and no doubt he was feeling a bit ashamed of how he'd behaved towards poor Meg.
'Night,' he said, as he dropped me outside my house. 'See you around, eh?'
'More than likely,' I told him, turning the key in the lock and going inside.
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Post by Big Lin on Oct 26, 2012 21:53:51 GMT
I suppose I might as well post the last chapter I started.
It's unfinished because it deals with a particularly traumatic experience and I haven't been able to get around to writing about it with enough distance yet.
Anyway, I'll post what I've written so you can see where I was at.
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