Ghosts in the Morning

Chapter 12



‘Morning, Mum. Looks like I’ve beaten Daniel out of bed, have I?’

‘They think it was just a fight, that’s all, just a fight...’

‘Mum? Are you alright? What are you going on about? A fight, what fight?’

I shook my head clear, I hadn’t been aware I had spoken aloud. ‘Oh, nothing, Ian, nothing, nothing at all, just, um, was just thinking aloud, about um, some detective programme I watched the other night, that’s all, just...er...suddenly realised why something happened on it, er...so, dear, how are you this morning, did you sleep well.’

‘Like a newborn babe, Mum. Certainly beats some of the places I’ve been sleeping in, and there’s no risk of bedbugs either, so that in itself makes for a good night’s sleep. Listen, um, you wouldn’t mind doing me a bacon sandwich, Mum, would you? Or a bacon toastie, yeah, that’d be nice. I’m starving, and I need some energy.’

I looked at Ian, ready to moan at him for being lazy – why don’t you make your own bloody bacon toastie - but I shrugged and turned on the grill. It was better to have something to do, stop my mind wandering. I had been thinking about what I had read in the paper about the football player.

‘Police are still appealing for witnesses to come forward. It is believed that Mr. Tolley was involved in an altercation earlier in the evening at the Lioness Pub, resulting in Mr. Tolley being ejected from the premises. They have asked anyone with any information on this earlier incident, or anyone who was at the Lioness Pub that night, to come forward, although they have refused to release any further details about this earlier incident’.

I looked at Ian. He was wearing a suit and tie, it looked incongruous with his long hair and tan. He looked like a surfer on his way to a reluctant court appearance.

‘You’re looking very smart, Ian, what’s the occasion?’

‘Ah yes, Mum, thank you, well, I’m going to pop round town to some of the recruitment agencies. I figured now I’m back that I may as well get on with it and look for a job. I don’t want to let the moss grow under my feet and all that.’

‘It’s grass.’

‘Eh?’

‘The saying. It’s “don’t let the grass grow under your feet”. Not moss. But anyway, I wouldn’t have thought you need to wear a suit for the agencies, don’t you just need to go through your CV with them.’

‘You only get one chance to make a first impression, Mum. I can’t have them thinking I’m some sort of hippy, I don’t reckon they would put as much effort in finding me a job.’

‘Have you asked your father if he’s got anything at his place? Or maybe he knows someone who’s looking?’

‘Er, firstly, no thanks, I don’t fancy working in the same office as Dad. I can just imagine the crap I’d have to put up with, people thinking I’d got the job just ‘cos of Dad. But yes, I did mention it to him, he said he’d ask around.’

I flipped the bacon onto the grill and dropped two slice of bread into the toaster. It popped straight back up. I pushed it down. Again it popped up. I pushed it down again. ‘Work, you stupid f*cking thing,’ I shouted.

Ian was at my side, his hand on my arm. ‘Mum, Mum, calm down! Look, it’s just not switched on at the wall. Here, look.’ Ian reached across and pushed the switch at the plug. Then he gently eased the bread down until you could hear a click.

I sighed and Ian looked at me. ‘Mum, are you okay?’

‘Yes, I’m sorry Ian, I’m sorry, I’m just a bit...a bit tired, that’s all.’

Ian put his arms around me and squeezed. ‘I love you Mum,’ he said. ‘Now, go on, take your cup of coffee and go and sit down for a bit. I can make my own bacon sarnie. No, no buts...go on.’

I trudged off to the lounge, like a scolded child.

I took a sip of coffee and closed my eyes. I wanted a drink, but it was too early. I knew it was too early but still...Maybe I was drinking a little too much recently, maybe I should ease off a little, but I was sure it wasn’t that bad, it was hardly like I was an alcoholic. A glass here and there, it was a comfort, that’s all.

Time drifted. Images flashed through my head of blood and bone, dripping red...I felt a brush on my cheek as Ian kissed me, then the slam of the door as he left... I saw a picture of waves crashing on rocks and saw a man sinking beneath those waves, I saw a faint red reflective light on the back of a bicycle...

‘Morning, Mum. Well, nearly afternoon, I suppose.’

Jolted, I opened my eyes. Daniel was sitting next to me on the sofa dressed in a T-shirt and boxer shorts. His voice was soft and he had a sad look in his eyes.

I rubbed my eyes, felt the scratch of grit in the corners. ‘Are you okay, Daniel, what’s up? You look really...I don’t know...really miserable?’ The anger that I’d felt towards Daniel over that girl, what was her name...Jadie-Lee, that was it...it all dissipated on seeing the pain cross his face. He was still my son, I could never not love him.

‘Oh, I don’t know Mum, I’m just a bit worried about work, you know. I mean Frank doesn’t have a lot of jobs coming up at the moment, and he said he reckons it’s going to get worse. He doesn’t think he’ll have much - if any - work for me after Christmas. All of my mates have got a proper job, you know, most of them work in banks or trust companies and, well, I’m always skint and they’ve always got plenty of cash to go out. You know I want to move out, get my own flat, but I’ve got no chance of that right now, have I?’ Daniel’s voice had a forlorn quaver.

Daniel must have been upset. He hadn’t been this open with me, talked to me like this, in ages. ‘But it’s not so bad here, is it, Daniel?’ I said. ‘I mean, you don’t have to go anywhere, your Dad and I are hardly kicking you out.’

‘No, I know you’re not, I don’t mean that, I just...I just want my own space, that’s all.’ Daniel looked at me, and I heard a catch in his voice. ‘And, well, I kind of liked Jadie-Lee - ’ Ah, so now we were getting to the nub of it, ‘- no, Mum, don’t look at me like that, I know she’s a bit younger than me, but she is nearly sixteen, and she’s mature for her age, and I really do like her.’

‘But-’

‘No, don’t say anything, Mum, I know you disapprove but it doesn’t matter anyway, because she’s seeing some other f*cking twat now, some idiot called Robin – sorry, I didn’t mean to swear like that. Oh, I dunno, I’m just a bit...I guess, a bit mixed up at the moment.’

‘That makes two of us,’ I mumbled to myself. I looked at my son. I knew I hadn’t been paying enough attention recently to my family, but, lately it seemed I didn’t have the energy. Maybe it was more than that, maybe I didn’t even have the desire anymore to continually worry about the things going on in my family’s lives, there were too many things to sort out in my own head. Too many things had begun to crowd in recently...

Daniel sighed and headed towards the kitchen. I sunk back down into the sofa and took a deep breath, trying to still my mind, but it was like trying to catch sunshine in a cloud. I closed my eyes and saw a picture of myself, adrift on a tiny, broken raft in the middle of a large stormy ocean.



***



The doorbell rang.

‘Who’s that?’ Graham demanded. He hated being interrupted when we were having our dinner.

‘I don’t have X-Ray eyes,’ I said flatly. ‘Perhaps if you opened the door...’

‘I’ll get it,’ sighed Daniel, and stood up from the table.

‘I’m there, don’t worry,’ shouted Ian from the hallway. ‘I’m off out, see you later, I’m out for a few catch-up beers with the boys.’ The door clicked open.

‘Er, Mum, it’s those Jehovah’s Witnesses again! Er, excuse me guys, can I just squeeze past you, I’m on my way out. Great, thanks. Bye!’

Graham’s forehead creased into an angry frown. My heart quickened. ‘Jehovah’s Witnesses?’ He said. ‘At dinnertime, that’s a bit bloody inconsiderate.’ He began to rise from his chair, ready to give them a piece of his mind, but I was quicker.

I dashed towards the hallway. Detective Sergeant Blud and PC Andrews were in the doorway.

‘Sorry to bother you again, Mrs. Halston, is your husband here?’

‘Yes, but-’

‘Oh good, mind if we come in?’ The question was rhetorical, as Blud had already stepped into the hallway.

‘What’s all this about, who are you?’ Graham said, coming out of the dining-room.

Blud flashed his identification card. ‘I’m Detective Sergeant Blud and my colleague here is Police Constable Andrews. And you are Mr. Graham Halston, I presume? I’m a bit surprised actually, that I haven’t heard from you yet, Mr. Halston. Did you not get the message to ring me?’ Blud glanced at me and raised an eyebrow.

‘Oh, that’s my fault, sorry, well, I forgot to...um...I’ve been a bit...a bit busy,’ I said quietly.

Blud stared at me for a second then shrugged his wide shoulders, rustling his coat. ‘Ah well, not to worry, no harm done. We were in the neighbourhood anyway, so I thought maybe it was just as easy to pop in -’

Graham looked confused, angry. ‘Pop in? Does somebody mind telling me what the hell this is all about?’

Blud ignored him and looked at Daniel, who had appeared from the kitchen. ‘Good evening, there,’ Blud nodded and turned to Graham. ‘One of your sons, I take it?’

‘Er, yes, this is Daniel. Look, what’s – ’

‘Okay, Daniel, there’s no need to be alarmed, son. We’re just here to have a quick chat with your Dad. Shall we go through to the lounge, Mr. Halston?’

I followed Graham and the two policemen into the lounge.

‘So, Mr. Halston, do you know a Mr. John Rosslet?’ Blud said, flipping open a notebook.

‘Er, who? I mean, no. Should I? Look, I don’t know any John Rosslet, can you please just tell me what this is all about?’

‘Mr. Rosslet died recently in a cycling accident. Well, to be more precise, the accident –’ Blud mimed quotation marks with his fingers. He looked like a short, fat clown doing a rabbit impression, ‘- we actually believe to have been a hit and run.’ Blud tapped his pencil rapidly on his notebook. Tap, tap, tap. It seemed to be in time with my heartbeat.

Why only a Detective Sergeant rather than a Detective Inspector, surely they would want a DI for this sort of thing? I mused to myself.

‘Sorry, Mrs. Halston, I only caught the end of that sentence?’ Blud looked at me. ‘Something about needing a Detective Inspector for this sort of thing?’ He sounded angry.

I reddened. ‘Um, sorry, I just, I guess, I was just thinking of a TV programme, I–’

‘I am a Detective Sergeant, Mrs. Halston, a very experienced Detective Sergeant as it happens. I am more than capable of dealing with this...with this sort of thing.’ Blud sounded churlish, defensive. At that moment, I could see anguish on his face, the anguish of continually being passed over for promotion, the anguish as younger, less-experienced colleagues took the plaudits, climbed the rungs, while Blud - too rough round the edges, too set in his ways, maybe – remained in his position as Detective Sergeant.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw PC Andrews bury a cruel smile, there was obviously no empathy for his senior officer.

Blud took a deep breath and turned away from me. Tap tap tap. ‘Okay, Mr. Halston, so you claim not to have known Mr. Rosslet, however- ’

‘I’m not just claiming not to have known him, I didn’t bloody know him! Full stop! I don’t know what you’re accusing me of here but- ’

‘Please, Mr. Halston, I’m not accusing you of anything. Now, I believe that you do know a Miss Nikki Sandsen?’

‘Er, what? Well, yes of course, Nikki’s my PA. What the hell has that got to do with anything? Look, Detective Blunt-’

‘It’s Blud, Mr. Halston. Detective Sergeant Blud.’

‘Okay, okay, sorry - Detective Sergeant Blud - please would you mind telling me what the hell is going on? I mean, you march into my house and start asking me asking questions about some cycling accident, and then you start asking me about Nikki-’

Blud glanced at Andrews, then he looked at me for a long second. He nodded to himself, as if he’d just made an important decision. ‘Mr. Halston, we have reason to believe that a cyclist – John Rosslet – was knocked from his bike in a hit and run accident. Mr Rosslet died as a result of that incident. Now, we also have some information that suggests the possibility that the vehicle involved was a black four by four. Similar to the car owned by yourself, Mr. Halston.’

‘But that’s ridiculous. Just because we’ve got a black car, besides I hardly ever dr-’

‘Can you describe your relationship with Miss Sandsen?’ Blud said. Tap tap tap on the notebook again.

‘What on earth has that got to do with anything?’ spluttered Graham. ‘She’s my PA, that’s all.’

‘Are you sure that’s all, Mr. Halston?’ Blud said, the ghost of a frown crossing his forehead.

Graham flicked a guilty glance in my direction. ‘Yes, yes, that’s all she is.’

I saw Blud take a deep breath and I realised what he was about to do, I had watched enough cop shows; he didn’t have to put Graham on the spot like this, he could have spared Graham the humiliation, he could have spoken to Graham in private, but he was doing this on purpose. Blud wanted to put Graham on the back foot, to see his unguarded reaction. Blud didn’t know that I knew about the situation with Nikki already, but he certainly didn’t seem to care if his impending words would damage me. He’d had too many years on the job, maybe he was too cynical and careworn for sympathy, just saw this as another case to solve, and damn the fallout.

‘Well, sorry for bringing this up-’ Blud glanced at me, tap tap tap, ‘-but it’s my understanding, Mr. Halston, that you are involved in a relationship with Miss Sandsen. A relationship of a sexual nature. An affair, if you like.’

Graham stared furiously at Blud. I could see his shoulders tense, and Andrews placed a gentle hand on his arm. Then he sighed and his shoulders relaxed. He sunk into the sofa like a deflated balloon.

‘Was.’

‘Sorry, Mr. Halston?’

‘I said was. Was not is. I was having an aff-, well, I was involved with Miss Sandsen. Not any more, it’s all over.’ Graham looked at me. ‘I’m sorry, Andrea, I never meant for it to happen, it just-’

‘Were you aware, Mr. Halston, of Miss Sandsen’s previous relationship with Mr. Rosslet?’ Blud was like a terrier, he wouldn’t stop.

‘What? No, of course not, I told you, I don’t know any Rosslet guy. What is it...what are you saying?’

Tap tap tap. Blud stayed quiet for a second, just the continuous rhythmic drumming of that infernal pencil. I could taste blood on my bottom lip where my teeth had pierced. Finally PC Andrews said, ‘The thing is, Mr. Halston, the aforementioned John Rosslet was involved in a relationship with Miss Sandsen in the year prior to you shacking up...er, I mean having an affair with you. And then Mr. Rosslet goes and gets himself killed by a hit and run driver, possibly driving a car a lot like yours, possibly with the same number plate as yours. That’s kind of why we’re here right now, Mr. Halston.’

‘Thank you, PC Andrews, for your succinct summary. Now please, would you be kind enough to shut up.’ Blud’s teeth were gritted together, I could hear the grinding of the enamel.

I shook my head at the revelation from PC Andrews. Jersey was a small community, there were multitudes of connections between friends, between people...and the world was full of little coincidences, most of them unimportant, unnoticed, just ripples on the surface of life. But sometimes, just sometimes, one of those coincidences changes things, a ripple becomes a wave...

‘So, Mr. Halston, you’re denying you know Mr. Rosslet, is that correct?’

‘Yes, I’ve told you, I don’t bloody know any Rosslet.’

‘And can you vouch for your whereabouts on - let me see - the night of November fourteenth?’

‘That’s over a month ago, how do I bloody know. Look I’ve had enough of this...this...bloody insinuation. I’ve told you, I don’t have a clue what you’re on about, and I don’t have to vouch for anything. I’m not talking to you buggers anymore without a lawyer present. I’ll have you for harassment, so I will.’

‘There’s no need for that, Mr. Halston. As I believe I mentioned earlier, this was just us popping-in, just an informal chat-’

‘I don’t care what you call it, a chat, a pop-in, whatever, all I know is that going forward you will have to speak to my lawyer. You come in here, making spurious accusations, poking your noses into my private life, and you expect me to just listen to all of this crap...I’m a, well, I’m a respected member of the business community, I don’t need to put up with this crap. So, now, I would appreciate you getting out of my house.’

Blud stood and nodded to Andrews. ‘We haven’t made any accusations that I’m aware of, Mr. Halston, but fair enough. Have it your way. We shall be in touch very soon. Goodbye, Mrs. Halston.’

The door slammed and Graham stared at me, his eyes blazing. ‘What the f*ck was that about, what the hell is going on? You use that car more than me, do you know what this is all about?’

I met his anger with my own. ‘Why do you think I know anything about this?’ I shouted back at him. ‘And how dare you have a go at me, when you’re the one who’s been having an affair with that tart of a secretary.’

‘Shit, what the hell is going on here. I’m going to have to phone Ollie tomorrow, I’ll get him to deal with this bollocks. He’ll charge the bloody earth, as well, I mean it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow.’

Ollie was a lawyer, Graham had used him before when a neighbour’s new wall had encroached onto our garden.

I sat down. ‘Okay, Graham, let’s calm down. There’s obviously some mix-up, the police must have got hold of some wrong information somehow, mistakes like this are always happening. You know what our police force is like, bunch of bloody amateurs. But you’re right, you can give Ollie a call tomorrow, we’ll get this all sorted, don’t worry.’ I put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

My voice was now calm but inside my mind was whirling.



***



Near the school I used to go to, there was a parl. It had a kids’ play area, with a see-saw, slides, a roundabout and a swing. I used to hang out there sometimes at lunchtimes – I would sneak out of school because I didn’t like to stay in the playground. I didn’t have the money for a hot lunch in the school canteen and I didn’t want the other kids to see my scuzzy care-home packed lunch; limp sandwiches filled with cheap cheese or even cheaper sandwich spread, it was an open invitation for the bullies. On the days I didn’t sneak out, some of the boys would sit next to me pretending to offer me some of their crisps or their chocolate bars, then snatching them away if I reached my hand out.

‘Did Mummy make your lunch, Garter girl? Oh, sorry, I forgot, you don’t have one.’

The park was usually quiet in the week. The odd toddler would be shrieking as his Mum – or maybe it was Nanny – pushed him on the small swing, the one with the bars all the way around. I would sit on the roundabout, gently pushing myself around as I forced the chewy bread down.

There was a little horse there too, it was on a spring. Kids would climb on, and bounce enthusiastically back and forth with manic glee on their faces, as their mothers cooed encouragingly, or gently admonished them – ‘not too fast, sweetheart, not too fast.’ The handles of the horse stuck out from the side of the horse’s head, representing its ears.

To me, it looked like a stake had been rammed right through that horse’s head.



***



‘Mum, I, um, I, I...think I’m gay.’

Simon’s suitcase was in the hall, he had not even taken it upstairs yet. He was standing in front of the Christmas tree in the lounge. It was a real tree, Graham insisted on that every year. I would have preferred an artificial one, so that I wouldn’t have to water the stupid bloody thing every day, so that I wouldn’t have to spend time picking up pine needles up off the deep cream carpet every bloody day. I stared at the fairy we had placed on top of the tree, it was the same fairy we had had for years, it looked worn at the edges, I should get a new one. I giggled inwardly, the irony of thinking of getting a new fairy right at that moment.

‘Mum, did you hear me? I said I think I’m gay,’ Simon repeated. And then suddenly he started to cry. ‘Dad’s going to kill me, I know he is, he’ll probably going to...probably going to disown me-’

‘No, Simon, don’t be silly, he would never – ’

‘Yes he will Mum, you know what he’s like, he’s old-fashioned and all that. Okay, yeah, sure he might not be completely homophobic, but he won’t be able to bring himself to accept it. Nor will Ian and Daniel, they are not going to want a gay brother.’ Simon’s slender body heaved with racking sobs.

I put my arms around my youngest son. I was tired, so tired, I hadn’t slept well after the previous night’s visit from the police. Daniel had come in from the kitchen, demanding to know what it was all about, and Graham had fobbed him off with some story about the police just checking up on one of his audit clients. Daniel didn’t look convinced, but he could see from Graham’s expression that it was pointless to ask any further questions.

I had gone to bed and stared at the ceiling for hours. Graham had stayed downstairs, I had heard the dull plop of the stopper coming out of the decanter. Brandy. Graham didn’t drink brandy much, he usually stuck to the wine, and maybe an occasional beer. He must have fallen asleep on the sofa, he didn’t come upstairs until the early hours of the morning, waking me from my eventual fitful sleep as he clattered around the bathroom, lifting the toilet seat with a harsh clang. He hadn’t even bothered to brush his teeth, and the rank smell of last night’s fish had mingled unpleasantly with the brandy as he snored across the bed. I hadn’t slept at all after that.

‘It’s okay, Simon, it’s okay. Everything will be okay, I promise.’ Then I started to cry too. All I had ever wanted was a normal family, I had fought hard for that after the care home, after...after what had happened to me, but now it was all falling apart, the police...I couldn’t bear it, I couldn’t bear to lose my family, my freedom, not after everything, I couldn’t let this happen.

The tears dripped on our faces, and I squeezed Simon tighter.