A Line in the Sand (54 page)

away

into the darkness, beyond the reach of the lights, the plank on his shoulder.

He held her. Meryl had his promise, and the tension of her muscles 356

ebbed. She lay soft against him. He heard the brief triple ring

of

the bell, then Blake's voice and Davies's wishing him a good night.

Davies said, Frank heard it, that the 'bloody place was quiet as a grave'. He heard Blake settle in the dining room, and check the

machine-gun they shared. If he hadn't given his promise, she would have taken down the suitcase from the top of the wardrobe, and left.

He had been stifled in the house. Ahead of him was a meal alone in a

pub, then the suffocation of the room in the bed-and-breakfast.

Bill Davies walked past his car. He had to think, had to be alone.

There was no escape from the need to call home. There were enough of

them gossiping in his section for him to know the talk of a marriage going down. Some said that, actually, they felt the better for it when

it was over. A few said, in a bar with drink, that when it was over the loneliest time in their lives began. He had to steel himself

to

talk with Lily in the hope that she would let him chat to Donald and Brian. It would probably be like the last time, silences and

refusal,

then the challenge as to when he was coming home, to which he had

no

swer, then the purr of the cut call.

an

He had to think, had to walk,

would say.

had to know what he

The rain lashed down.

s lights and the pub's

The road in front of him, towards the hall'

ight windows, was empty.

br

as a shadow of movement at the

There w

side of the road, beyond the

from the hail and he thought it would be one of

throw of the lights

e

th

old idiots who took their dogs out, sunshine or rain, and was

g against a tree or a hedge.

shelterin

wrapped his heavy coat closer round him. His shoes and the

He

trousers

s ankles were already soaked.

at hi

say, "I love you. I love my boy's, our boys. I want to

He would

be

357

with you. I want to share my life with you... I am a policeman, I carry a Glock pistol, I protect people who are under threat... I

cannot

change. I can't go back to chasing thieves, seeing kids across

roads.

I have to live with it, you have to live with it. Living with it, Lily, is better for both of us than splitting. Splitting is death.

Death for me, death for you, death for Donald and Brian. Anything is

better than us meeting on the doorstep on Saturday mornings, if I'm not

working, and you looking at me like I'm dirt, and letting the kids out

with me for four hours, a football match and a McDonald's. Give it another chance..."

The words jangled in his mind, and he was so tired. He had been

sitting for twelve hours in the dining room of the house with his

flask

of coffee and his sandwiches, with his Glock and his machine-gun,

with

his newspaper, and listening to them. He was trying to put Lily

forefront in his mind, and his boys and they were second best to Meryl Perry. Lily wouldn't understand about Meryl Perry, wouldn't... The shot blasted out.

He froze. There was no pain, no numbness and he was standing. The shot had missed.

He spun but they didn't do pitch-darkness practice at Lippitts Hill.

They did daytime firing or were under the arc-lights in the shooting gallery.

He was reaching under the heavy coat, under his jacket, for the Glock.

He had it out of the holster. He was turning, aiming into the

blackness in front of him.

He was screaming for control, for dominance.

"Armed police! Throw your weapon down! Show yourself!"

But he was in the light, and the rain was in his eyes, and couldn't see

a target. If there had been anything to aim at he would have fired, not shouted. Finger on the trigger guard, like they taught -where was

358

the bastard?

"Get forward, to me, crawl, or I shoot I fucking shoot. Weapon first,

! Move."

then you

avies had never had his gun out before, never drawn it for real.

Bill D

Now he saw the movement... His finger slipped from the guard to the Not simunition in Hogan's Alley, not on the range. His

trigger.

finger locked on the trigger, and he began to squeeze. He blinked, cus on the aim into the darkness.

tried to fo

A plank fell towards him, bounced twice, and came to rest at his feet.

was a whimpering in front of him, and an identifiable movement.

There

nger was tightening.

He had the aim on it, and his fi

"Come out! Come out or I shoot!" Davies bellowed at the blackness.

The shadow came, with it a whining cry. The young man crawled on

his

knees and elbows towards the light.

Davies knew it was over. He had been so shit scared and it made him aw the slack mouth of the young man and the terror in

angry. He s

his

es.

ey

He had seen him in the pub. They used planks in Ireland kids

and women used to stand in darkness, put their weight on a plank end, r a patrol to pass then heave up the other end of it to let

wait fo

it

down on tarmac or paving, its sound the replica of a bullet

smash

firing. They did it to wind up the soldiers. It was sport. He had at the edge of firing... It was unnecessary but he caught the

been

collar of the young man and dragged him across the road, out into

the

mach, drove the barrel

street-light. He threw him flat on his sto

of

the Glock into his neck, put a knee into the small of his back and, anded, frisked him.

one-h

He could smell old beer and new piss. He

had

edge of killing a drunk who'd played a game.

been at the

He stood

high

over him and used his foot to turn him over. He saw the big stain e young man had wet himself and the scratches on his face

where th

om

fr

being dragged over the road surface. The man made little noises of r, and Davies realized he still covered him with the gun.

terro

359

He shouldn't have, but he kicked the young man hard in the wall of the

stomach.

"Go on, get back to your mammy. Tell your mammy why you pissed your trousers. Ever try it again, you're dead."

hed

The young man scrambled to his knees, then to his feet, then lurc

ay sobbing.

aw

Davies watched him as he ran towards the hall and the

pub's lit windows.

He walked back to his car outside the house and slumped in the seat.

He

didn't know why he hadn't made the final squeeze on the trigger that would have killed the kid, and his whole body shook. He knew he would make no phone call that night.

.. wildlife is a jewel we are fortunate to see.

'.

The brightest of

the

ls, making the incredible journey to a~d from west Africa each

jewe

year, coming back to us, to our place, each spring, is the marsh

er. We are a privileged people. Thank you."

harri

e applause burst around Dr. Julian Marks. The lights came on.

Th

ey had all heard the shouting in the

Th

road, had all turned in the

half-light under the projector's beam, looked at the door and seen Paul

y out. Barry Carstairs, attention elsewhere, led the

slip busil

applause. He was about to offer their thanks to the speaker when

the

swing doors burst back open.

The silence fell, Paul shouted, "It's Gussie, the police nearly shot him.

was the detective at the Perrys' he had his gun on him, and

It

then he kicked him to shit. I thought he was going to shoot him.

t, we all know Gussie, he's hardly Brain of Britain, but he was

Chris

damn near killed!"

There was a stampede to the door. The crowd surged past Simon and ackmore and out into the night. Many were in time to see

Luisa Bl

Gussie staggering across the brightly lit forecourt of the pub.

Jerry Wroughton said, the rain running on his face, "This nonsense has

gone far enough."

360

Carstairs

Forgetting her reservations of the previous morning, Emma

id, "It's time somebody did something."

sa

rtindale saw him first and dropped the glass he was drying.

Ma

Vince

turned on his stool.

asping for breath. His hair was

Gussie stood in the doorway, g

astered down on his forehead and his eyes showed stark terror, his pl

face laced with bloody scratches. They could all see the dark patch at

the crotch of his jeans, and the rips at the knees. None of them

laughed.

Gussie stammered, "He was going to kill me the man at the Perrys', the

cop, he had his gun on me.

going

I was only joking him, but he was

to

shoot me. I thought I was dead, and he kicked me. I wasn't doing was a bloody joke."

anything, it

od his full height.

Vince sto

The drink gave him the stature and the

courage.

"Don't know about you lot but I don't think those bastards have got the

message. Myself, I'm going to see they get it. It's time the shits e..."

were gon

irst rock hit the window, Meryl woke.

When the f

Half conscious, she

heard the cheer. She groped for Frank in the darkness beside her, but

he wasn't there.

There was another crack of breaking glass and another cheer. She

elf off the bed, and heard Frank's voice, frantic, calling

pushed hers

for Stephen, and the rush of feet through the kitchen below her, and all. He'd promised her, she'd had Frank's promise.

into the h

o the top of the stairs. The bell rang, three bleats.

She went t

Blake

had a vest on, the gun drawn. Paget was in front of him. Paget did the door and Blake covered him. As it was opened, she heard the

the obscenities, heard her name and Frank's, clearly.

shouting,

Davies

ueezed through the half-opened door, and Paget slammed it behind

sq

361

him.

rocks, maybe half-bricks, and perhaps an empty metal dustbin,

More

clattered against the door.

She was at the top of the stairs and they had not seen her.

Blake yelled, "What the fuck is going on here?"

Davies was leaning against the hall wall and the water dribbled from coat on to the paper.

his

t a bloody moron."

"It's abou

the flicking village got to do with a bloody moron?"

"What's half

was walking.

"I

The bloody moron did me with a plank I thought it

was

shot.

a

I bloody near fired. Christ, I had him in my sights. He

was

k. I roughed him. If it's not happened to you then you

just drun

wouldn't know what it's like. Bloody hell."

up the stairs and saw her.

Bill Davies looked

It was as if the panic

eared off his face, and the tiredness; his expression was a mask.

cl

He

as if she'd heard nothing, "Everything's under control,

said calmly,

Mrs. Perry. There's been an incident, but it'll be over in a

moment.

Please stay upstairs, Mrs. Perry."

"Where's Stephen?"

"Stephen's with Juliet Seven sorry, with Mr. Perry. Stephen's fine..

. Please, stay upstairs."

They didn't want to know about her. As far as they were concerned, she

was just a woman. She heard the murmur of the voices of Davies, Blake and she caught the name Juliet Seven, and the words 'safe

and Paget,

area', and mention of 'sector two' and 'sector four'; her man, her home

d her garden.

an

There was a window at the front of the landing at

the

the stairs, beside the airing-cupboard door.

top of

She peeped past

the curtain. A little tableau was laid out below her. For a moment 362

there

was quiet, as if they regrouped, reconsidered, as if the fainter

hearts ruled. They were all there. On the green, the village~ ids e front and behind them were Vince and Gussie and Paul,

were at th

and

hers she recognized who worked on the farms or had no work or took ot

the small fishing-boats with visitors and sea-anglerS. Further

back,

half hugging the shadows, were Barry and Emma Carstairs, Jerry and Mary

Wroughton, and Mrs. Fairbrother. Deeper into the shadows, but she could still see them, were Dominic and his partner, and the vicar.

She

all.

knew them

Paul came from the blackness, holding out the bottom edge of his coat to make a basket. When he loosed it, stones fell to the road.

The kids scrambled for the stones, snatched them up and hurled them against the walls of the house, and the windows and the door, and

the

cars parked at the front.

She saw hatred.

She had seen such mobs on television flickering, contorted faces from Africa and Asia, and from the corners of eastern Europe, but theirs was