The Book of Revenge (2 page)

With the sofa safely into the lounge, Liz plonked herself down and looked around her new home. Her teenage daughter, Sam, came in wearing a huge smile and was followed by a tall lad, her boyfriend, Craig. ‘Mum this is great.’

Liz smiled, ‘your room ok?’

‘I love it.’

Craig put his arm around Sam’s shoulders. ‘Sorry babe, but we’ve gotta go.’ He looked at Liz, ‘it’s the final; I’ll be buried alive if I don’t show.’

‘Who am I to stand in the way of football,’ Liz said. ‘Go on get going.’

She stood up and followed the pair outside. The removal men were struggling with a large antique looking desk. ‘Put it in the room straight in front of you at the top of the stairs.’ She said. One of the men groaned, it was a heavy desk. Liz watched as they edged it through the doorway, she didn’t want it damaged.

Keeping a wary eye on the progress of the desk, she watched as Craig headed towards a motorbike parked beside the van; he lifted up two helmets, put one on his head and started to strap it under his chin. She didn’t much like her daughter riding pillion, but she knew that like mothers everywhere, all she could do was keep her fingers crossed. Locking her daughter up to keep her safe was never really a viable option. And as young lads went, Craig seemed to be one of the better ones.

Sam hung back. ‘I can stay if you want mum. Get the coach back to Uni on Monday.’

‘Don’t be silly, I’ll be fine.’ Liz made sure her voice was steady and confident. She smiled warmly at her daughter. ‘Go…’

Sam hugged her tightly, then pulled back to look directly in her eyes. ‘New start mum?’

Liz nodded her head. Tears were threatening to fall, but she kept her composure. Her daughter let her go and then hurried to the motorbike. Liz followed more slowly. She took a deep steadying breath before she spoke. ‘Thanks for your help.’

Craig answered while Sam tightened her helmet. ‘No worries Lizzie. Make sure next time I come you have the gear set up,’ he grinned, ‘... you are going down lady.’

Liz laughed. ‘In your dreams...’ she retaliated, while mentally searching the packed boxes for the Playstation and games.

The bike roared away with Sam frantically waving. Liz watched them go, wondering, as she had a hundred times before, where the years had gone. But she didn’t have time for nostalgia or melancholy; she had a house to organise. So she directed the rest of her furniture off the van and then watched as it drove away. With the show over, the neighbours finished their fake gardening and went inside. Finally alone, Liz went back outside and unlocked her car. She opened the boot and took out a fairly large box. She lifted it up, it was heavy. She relocked the car and carried it into the house balancing it on her hip. She only got to the second step on her way upstairs when the front door bell rang. With some irritation she put the box on the floor. Not happy with leaving it there, she opened a door to an under stairs cupboard and pushed it inside. The doorbell rang again, someone was getting impatient. Liz hurried across and opened the front door.

Her best friend, Dawn, was on the doorstep holding a bunch of flowers so huge they virtually hid her. Liz’s irritation dissolved as she took the flowers and was immediately squashed by a hug. Dawn was a dancer and everything about her screamed the fact. She was dainty and elegant and floated around on ridiculously high heels.

A tall, dark, equally elegant man, Phillip, followed Dawn into the hall and looked around him. ‘This is really cool, Lizzie.’

Liz smiled her thanks; she was fond of Phillip and knew how her best friend felt about him. She had an entire house worth of boxes to unpack, but was glad of the temporary distraction. Besides, the only person she loved more in the world than Dawn, was Sam.

‘It’s lovely, Lizzie.’ Dawn said, before turning to Phillip and playfully tapping his arm, ‘nobody says cool anymore.’

‘They don’t?’

‘Nope.’

Liz smiled as she led them into the kitchen.

‘So what’s the new cool then?’ Phillip asked.

‘Sick, I think.’

Liz put the kettle on.

‘I’m impressed.’ Dawn said, as she looked at the mugs and coffee already unpacked. There was even a loaf of bread and the toaster on the side. ‘You are organised.’

Liz shrugged. ‘You know what workmen are like; they need regular caffeine to keep them at it.’ She poured boiling water into the mugs and stirred in instant coffee and milk. ‘Haven’t found the percolator yet...’

Dawn laughed and took the offered mug. ‘Takes time to settle. No regrets?’

‘No.’ Liz wondered briefly if it was true, but quickly dismissed the thought.

‘So when are you going to tell me why?’

‘Why what?’ Liz asked, pretending not to understand.

‘Oh come on Lizzie, this is me. I know you grew up here, but it’s not home is it. I mean all your friends, top of the list being me, are an hour’s drive away now.’

Liz shrugged. What could she say? How could she explain?

‘It was all too familiar…’ she said, trying to simplify and articulate the complex feelings of loss and sadness that shadowed her for so long.

She looked out of the window to the garden. Phillip had wandered out the back door and was chatting across the fence to the neighbour’s teenage daughter. ‘What’s happening with you and Phillip?’

Dawn allowed the subject to be changed and followed Liz’s gaze. ‘Oh, just more of the same sad story. Older woman falls for younger man and all that crap.’

Liz smiled, but she knew her friend’s pain was very real. ‘Only a few years older...’

‘Ten.’

‘So cut him loose.’ Liz said.

Dawn shook her head sadly. ‘One day you’ll realise that one thing in life we have no control over is love.’

‘Rubbish, of course we do.’

‘Nope. If I could write a list describing the man I want to love. Santa would not be putting Phil in my stocking!’

They both looked out of the window. Phillip was teaching the pretty young girl to Cha-cha.

Dawn looked at Liz, ‘one day you’ll understand.’

Liz sipped her coffee she knew it would never happen to her.

Matt stood up from his desk. Jen was still head down, hard at work. He felt a pang of guilt and regret. Had he ever been as diligent and dedicated as she was? He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and said a general, ‘see you tomorrow,’ to the room. Maybe he was being too hard on himself. He was only thirty seven; he’d made Detective Inspector four years ago. That was pretty good going. Trouble was now he didn’t really know what he was doing or why. In the early days he’d had a vision. He’d been idealistic and had wanted to make a difference, to clear the streets of the bad guys. It had all seemed so black and white then. But with each passing year the shades of grey blurred the vision.

Matt headed for his car. He should go straight home. His determination to talk to his wife that morning had failed. Avril had been sound asleep in the spare room and his attempt to rouse her for work had resulted in her throwing the alarm clock at his head. Luckily she’d missed. But the bruise on his shoulder showed her aim hadn’t been that far off.

He looked across the road at the pub. The police station was at the top of the high street and The George was a favourite after work drinking hole. He used to kid himself that by nipping in for a pint or two after work it kept him in with the locals. And it was true that he had heard snippets and chanced upon information across the years that had been useful. But the pint or two had turned to three or four or five. He wasn’t an alcoholic; at least he didn’t think he was. He could stop at any time, if he wanted to. But life was pretty crap at the moment and he needed something to help him through.

He decided that since he wasn’t ready to go home and he wanted to avoid another drinking session maybe a workout was what he needed. He pulled a sports bag that, like him, had seen better days, from the boot and locked the car. He walked across the road, past the pub and headed down the high street.

It was closing time, nothing as modern as late night opening in Bidbury. Some of the shops even had a midweek half- day closing. He sometimes felt as though he was caught in a time warp. If only he could escape the town, and the past that trapped him within it, another reality could be his. The door of the shoe shop opened and the manager, Andrew Martin, stepped out. He was followed out by a pretty young girl who hurried off, watched by Andrew.

Matt and Andrew briefly acknowledged each other. It was Matt who looked away first, as it always was. He knew as he walked away that the man would be smirking, the thought filled him with fury. He mocked himself with the irony. He joined the force because of Andrew and men like him, yet it was his job that prevented him from wiping the sick, smug smile from the man’s lips. Matt hurried on.

The Gym was all shiny and new. Shimmering glass and chrome, which was totally at odds with the rest of the town. Outside were posters of impossibly beautiful men and women, advertising the figure you really, really want.

Matt glanced at them as he walked past, ‘Yeah, you too, can be airbrushed to perfection,’ he muttered to himself.

It was a busy time for the gym. Full of after workers dropping by for a swim or class or workout before heading home. Matt knew most of them. That’s what happened when you lived your whole life in one place. He was on the treadmill running for his life, his breathing was laboured and sweat was dripping onto his shirt. He had to face it; he was not the fit young man he used to be.

A woman walked into the gym; she paused to take in the scene and its occupants. Matt saw her in the oversized mirror that stretched the length of the room. Then she walked towards the treadmills and stepped onto the one beside Matt. He watched as she started at a slow, warm up jog. He hadn’t seen her before; he glanced her way and smiled a greeting. Although he wondered if it appeared as more like a grimace since he was so out of breath.

The woman was slowing increasing her speed. She looked calm and fit. Her breathing was controlled and the speed kept climbing.

Matt, well aware of her running beside him was trying, and failing, to keep pace. While he huffed and puffed in increasing agony, she might as well be on a walk in the park. Forced to concede defeat he slowed down and climbed off the treadmill. He looked across at her as she continued to run at a fast steady pace with a satisfied smile on her face.

Showered and dressed Matt stood outside the gym, leaning against the glass puffing on a cigarette. She came out through the electric doors. She looked good. Made up and dressed up ready for a night out. Matt was surprised by the pang of envy he felt towards whoever her date was. She paused, looked at the cigarette in his hand, raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, smiled and then walked on.

Matt stubbed the cigarette out and hurried after her. ‘Down to three a day now.’

‘What’s the point?’ she asked, without slowing or stopping.

Matt was surprised by the question. He thought about it. ‘No point at all I suppose. It’s been a tough day and I like it.’

She gave him a ‘whatever’ shrug and kept on walking.

‘Haven’t seen you in there before, are you new?’

‘Yep.’

‘You’ve done that before though.’

‘Yep.’

Matt was getting mildly irritated, with himself as well as with her. What was he doing? He didn’t go around trying to pick up women. It wasn’t even like she was interested. But still he walked along beside her. They reached the edge of the town’s main car park and she stopped beside a blue Mini. She pressed a remote control to unlock the door and Matt opened the driver’s door and held it while she climbed in. For some strange reason he didn’t want to let her go. ‘I’ll see you again?’

‘You might,’ she said, as she started the engine.

Matt shoved his hand forward. ‘Matt Edwards.’

She paused for a second, and then she took his hand and shook it. ‘Liz Bryant,’ she closed the door and drove away leaving him grinning like an idiot.

Matt found himself whistling as he walked up the drive to his house. He opened the front door and entered just as Avril was about to leave.

‘You’re late,’ she said, with more indifference than annoyance.

‘I stopped at the gym.’

‘Dinner’s in the bin,’ she said. ‘Don’t wait up.’

Matt reached out a hand towards her. ‘We’ve got to talk...’ But she was gone. The door slammed on his words.

Chapter Five

The man was in his pyjamas. Expensive silk material that was amazingly big enough to cover his fat belly. I was standing on the landing but could see him through the open door. He was sat on the king-size bed watching a late night chat show. He had a large glass of whisky in one hand and the remote controller in the other. It couldn’t be more different than the last one. This was an expensive house in a village just outside of town. This guy was a solicitor and he had a fat cat life style. He’d done well for himself. Clearly he hadn’t let the past hold him back. I took a step closer and a floorboard gave a little moan.

He paused the TV, and called out, ‘Tina?’

I stood still and held my breath. Obviously he got no response. The TV volume went back on and I breathed again. I knew that Tina was his wife, and that this was her bridge night. I also knew that she only played bridge until eight thirty, and then she went to her lover’s house and spent the next three hours with him. She wouldn’t be home before midnight which suited me just fine as I had no quarrel with her.