Dancing to a New Beat 14

Printer-friendly version

CHAPTER 14
Jon drove off smoothly, trying to draw as little attention as possible, and spoke to me from the side of his mouth.

“Stevie says they’ll drop Deb off at the station, so we can pick her up there”

“You OK, mate?”

He was silent for a minute or so, concentrating on the directions from the satnav and the road ahead.

“I don’t really know, Di. I sort of guessed what was coming when he sat with us, but it was still a kick in the guts. Sort of really brought it home, you know? I mean, Harry Bowles, that was a shocker, but Brian Dennahy? There’s someone who has it all, the whole living the dream shit, and there it is. I know there was that England hooker, aye? What’s his name? Pit bull or something?”

“Brian Moore?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Thing is, he’s always been an arsehole---what’s so funny?”

I had been forced into a snort by that unthinking comment.

“Jon, I think what you really meant to say was that he has always been a committed and aggressive rugby player with a keen sense of team spirit and competitiveness. And a big gob, yeah?”

I could see his smile.

“Suppose so, girl. Anyway, no sweetness and light there, ever, and you had to wonder what it was, and then he says he was fiddled with as a kid, and it’s hard not to say ’is that what made him such a hard bastard?’ and then you look at Brian. Not his style, ever”

“What was his style? Remember, I know sod all about football”

“Hang on…red… OK. His style? Competitive, forceful, but not what you’d call a chopper. Midfield general, aye? Made space, directed passes well. Always an eye for where the ball would be, the right player to pass to, and elusive as all hell when he wanted to be. A real thinker, not a kick and charge player”

“Brian Moore’s a thinker. He’s a lawyer, I think”

“Exactly my point, Di. Aggressive little fucker. I couldn’t see it in Brian, though, not till I spoke, and then, well, shit. Stevie really loves him, doesn’t he?”

“They all do, I believe. Bit obvious at times”

“Yeah, exactly, and that was something I wanted to say before we picked up Deb. It’s family, there. Real family, real strength. Deb was lucky, she found her own, all those girls she has helped, Charlie, Tiff, Gemma? All family, in a way. Ben, there; that husband of his is as much a hard bastard as my own man, and that’s what got to me, Di. How many have we missed? Not just Bowles, but how many others who never found someone to save them?”

I couldn’t answer that one, because I was thinking of Sedgewick as a newly-minted Professional Policeman, in a Cumbrian back garden with a spade and a body bag, which brought another image to mind, and that was an odd one. Double exposure, Adam in a hospital bed, that Eric by it, holding his, her hand. I sighed, and tried to find the right words.

“Not just things like this, Jon. I have a friend, yeah? Had far too much of the shit this job brings, and nearly broke down, but she’s got good people with her, a good man. That’s where we come in, when they don’t have the family, whatever. That’s our job, that yank term: protect and serve. Ah. That her over there?”

“Yup”

“Sweetness and light on the way home, mate. Case might be over, but never is for the victims. Serious question: would you mind if we took the piss out of you and Rhys?”

“As a distraction? Oh, might as well. Candice is already doing her best, and that is so far above what you can manage that I think I can cope”

“Cheeky fucker! Hiya, Deb! Hop in. I was just about to start the third degree on Jonny boy here. About a certain fellow officer who officiates in our office, sort of thing”

Deb lost her tense expression at that, and Jon slipped me a wink as she actually laughed.

“Yeah, some of the girls will be a bit disappointed. Gemma in particular”

I looked over into the back seat as Jon drove us towards the edge of Chester.

“I thought she was all into George North?”

“Yeah, but he’s the figure on the pedestal, isn’t it? Rhys was the one they could touch”

Jon spluttered theatrically.

“Hey! What about me?”

Genuine laughter came from behind me.

“Gemma likes beef, not veal!”

I caught the hint of a blush from my driver, and decided not to make the obvious comment about pork, and the teasing continued most of the way back down to Cardiff, or at least until Deb fell soundly asleep. We dropped her at the house, after all sorts of promises about coming for dinner, and then parked up back at James Street. Sammy was waiting in the office, tea poured.

“Saw you drive in. Time to talk me through it?”

I looked at Jon for confirmation and he nodded, just as Rhys and Blake came in with Candice in tow. I took another deep, slow breath, partly in relief as Blake simply sat by me and took my hand. I turned my head to catch his smile in my eyes, and the world was a little better.

“A couple of surprises, boss”

Sammy nodded, eyes flicking round the room.

“Aye, Rob caught the flash on the Beeb’s news site. How was it?”

“Ych. Pile of shit, as expected, and when Brian came out with his stuff, it must have been texted out or something. Half the bloody gutter press were waiting outside when we finished”

My husband squeezed my hand.

“How was Deb, love? She OK?”

“Can I just start at the beginning? Be easier for me, that way. First up, it was the charges. Sedgewick had kept that bastard quiet, hadn’t he? Our man had us sitting in the body of the court, and they all said it was so Stevie—er, Stevie Elliott, gutsy little man who broke the Castle Keep case? Anyway, he’s there to give Cooper the evil eye, and we get going with the charges, and Cooper coughs the lot, and that is the first we knew about Dennahy and him. Anyway, Ben, Ben Nicol-Clements, he leaves his other half to do the VIS”

Jon perked up.

“By god he gave Cooper hell! Once Cooper had coughed, the judge had told the jury they could clear away, but they all stayed once they heard Peter start off skinning the old bastard. Then it was Brian, and a break, and then our girl”

He shook his head, looking down, and Rhys simply sat beside him and dropped all pretence as he laid his arm over Jon’s shoulder.

“You OK, Jonny?”

The young man shook his head.

“Everyone’s been on my case, you know, right from the start, right from the day I walked in. Not in a bad way, aye? It’s just that the last few weeks have hurt me something rotten. The interviews, especially Bowles, and then today… I don’t know if I’m right for this job”

Rhys pulled him into a hug.

“Tell you what, love, let’s just leave Di to tell it while you sit quiet, then we’ll talk about you and the team, all of us, OK?”

I saw Candice, silent for once, reach out to take Rhys’ spare hand, and I turned Back to Sammy, who was smiling in a sad way at Jon.

“Boss?”

“Go ahead, girl”

“Nothing really to tell apart from what we’ve already said. Deb did her statement, and then she mentioned Cooper’s ‘true lurv’ shit, and he got upset. God help him if she ever gets her hands on him. Apart from that, and His Honour giving Cooper a sack full of life terms, that’s all”

Sammy gave us his gentle grin again.

“Andrew Sedgewick says different, girl. He’s been on to Bev Williams about you two, and I know it’s not the done thing, but when the victims and the presiding judge all sing your praises, we have to take some sort of notice. Jon?”

My boy looked up, eyes slightly red-rimmed.

“Yes?”

“How long have you been a copper, son?”

“Six months off probation”

“So an entire ocean’s worth of wet behind the ears, isn’t it? And your first proper case? And you get some old bastard of a kiddy fiddler banged away for the rest of his natural, and everyone and his brother says what a wonderful bloke you are, butter wouldn’t melt, all that? And you think you’re not up to it?”

Sammy shook his head, pointing to his desk.

“I’ve got Bowles’ interview transcript up there, and Cooper’s. Two sides of the same shitty stick. I am putting it together so Bev Williams can sort out some recommendations, and they are for a commendation. You too, Di. You’ve both done what we should all be doing. End of. Jon, if you want to go, if you don’t think…”

He paused, looking around what there was of our team.

“Sod it. This is the sort of thing I would normally do as a one-to-one, in private. Not this time. I know this lot now, so here’s my view. Nobody here wants you gone, not least the idiot cuddling you, cause he’d just pine and his work would go to ratshit. You have done bloody well for someone new---no! You have done bloody well, full stop. There are officers with decades of experience who would have stuffed up this case. I know it hurts, and that is why we want you on the team. It means you bloody well care, and that means in turn that you’ll do a decent job. That’s all we ask of you. Keep doing what you’re doing. If you really want to go, it will be with a seriously good write-up, but please stay. That’s all from me”

He looked at his watch.

“Ellen, Rob and the rest of the fresh meat should have got there by now. DC Sutton?”

We both looked up, and my boss grinned.

“Ah, she’s already learning to come when called! The others have sorted, hopefully, some seats in the Duchess of Delhi, and then we’ll pop next door to Eli Jenkins. This is the third big case this team has brought home, counting Ashley Evans and his wandering cock as one, and we are all taking tomorrow off. Very conveniently, having the partners of both of you on hand meant we didn’t need to guess if you would be available. Sup up, and let’s get rolling”

It wasn’t that far to the waterfront, and after squeezing our group through a few groups of theatre-goer types we found our table in the restaurant, already occupied by the rest of our team, including a grinning Chris, who guffawed. That was when I realised that Rhys and Jon were actually holding hands.

Hugs and handshakes all round, poppadums and pickles, curry and rice, all with affectionate teasing, and then next door to the warmth of a proper pub that had somehow managed to survive the gentrification of the old waterside area. Noise, laughter, the clink of glasses, and steadily ruder teasing, Jon’s grin back in place right up until the whole pub fell silent in a wave of shushing. The landlord turned up the sound on the television as it cut to a familiar face standing on the steps of Chester Crown Court. As the reporter gave his account, there were several muttered comments from the other customers, many of the words being less than polite.

“Today saw the culmination of an investigation into historic child abuse by Charles Cooper, already serving a life sentence for the rape of a large number of boys in a Carlisle children’s home over many years in the Seventies. The allegations in this case were connected to another boys’ home in the Runcorn area, as well as other charges relating to Carlisle. Although Cooper pleaded guilty to all charges, and received three more life sentences, there was uproar when one of the victims gave up their right to anonymity”

The picture cut from the reporter to a series of still images, and while most of the people in the pictures had their faces pixelated, four were clear: Sedgewick, Jon, me and Brian.

“The assistant coach and former England A player Brian Dennahy was revealed as having been the victim of serious sexual abuse as a child while at school in Carlisle. Among the perpetrators was Charles Cooper, the man convicted here earlier today. This evening, Mr Dennahy gave the following statement at his home in Cumbria”

The image cut to a seriously well-built set of gates, Brian standing with his wife and children.

“I would like to say a few words about what emerged today. Yes, I was abused as a child. It was sexual, and it was extremely violent, extremely unpleasant. It has taken me many years to come to terms with this, especially after the same evil man was responsible for the savage abuse of my adopted son Steven. There are no words that I can say that adequately sum up what it has meant to me that I was finally able to look him in the eye and let him know what I thought of him. I will be writing of my experiences, and the resulting work will be available next year. Proceeds of its sales will be donated to Childline, so that other victims may be given hope.

“I would like to express my thanks to the police officers who refused to let old evil lie unpunished, particularly two wonderful people from South Wales, Diane and Jon. That’s all I have to say today”

The camera cut back to Chester.

“West Yorkshire Police confirmed today that they are now investigating another address where Cooper worked. Preliminary results are expected shortly. Dan Beresford, BBC News, Chester Crown Court”

Chris turned from the screen to glare at Jon.

“A little blonde bird tells me you are thinking of being a fuckwitted little fairy, Jonny boy! Well? Are you?”

The boy in question looked round the team, as half the pub seemed to be staring at him in recognition, as well as at me, and he simply raised Rhys’ hand to his chest, squeezing it.

A sudden grin, the Jon I remembered, back at last.

“Do I look bloody stupid? Who’s got the whip?”

up
144 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Good Coppers and Curries

persephone's picture

Cyclist,

After the harrowing last few chapters you posted that regularly reduced me to tears, this one brought a smile, a certain degree of grim satisfaction and, more importantly, hope. It recalled to me a saying.

"Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing."
(attributed to John Stuart Mill 1867)

You have created some wonderful characters who are both truly 'good' and most certainly did something. Thank you for your wonderful storytelling.

The joy is that coppers in the UK are now truly becoming understanding and respectful on things like LGBT hate crime. A good friend who transitioned three years ago was recently promoted to be a police inspector on a firearms unit.

(P.S. Can we have details of the curries ordered? Balti? Jalfrezi? Madras? Dhansak? Sorry, just feeling a bit peckish and seriously fancying a takeaway :))

Persephone

Non sum qualis eram

Curries

I was in the Eli Jenkins on Wednesday, and it is a proper pub. My Cornish friend was very taken with the St Austell Tribute ale, and as the glass has 'Cornish born and bred' she got wistful.

A quick word with the staff, and it was 'Does she want a clean glass or will that one do?"

On the way back to our hotel we went along James St and back up Bute, so it raised a smile. I couldn't go to the Smugglers, unfortunately, as I have made the place up.

The Duchess is next door, but the whole area is gentrified, with Pret a Manger, Cote, other non-food places. The Jenks continues to be a real pub, and the food is not bad, and not too expensive. Of course, I could reveal the menu, but I did enough of that in the Ride books!

In the end, I try my best to make my characters real folk, and it has been a shitty time for Jon. He is a young and inexperienced lad, swimming with sharks. Diane was hardened at sixteen, but Jon is having to cope with little preparation. The one thing you all know, of course, is that his lover is a decent human being, and that is, after all, my main theme: love, family, friends.

"the Jon I remembered, back at last."

because he cares, it will be hard. but because he cares, the victims will get a better copper on the case for it ...

DogSig.png

Yes I have been a'travelling

But I still managed to pine and chafe waiting for this next episode.

Truly magnetic characters, Steph.

Thanks

Of Course She Doesn't Want A Clean Glass

joannebarbarella's picture

The one she's got already has the flavour in it. Enough has been said by others about the reality of your people. I am just an echo.

Retribution.

I've little to add to what I've said before, I've shed tears over this this story and I thought I was pretty much inured to what, for me, I thought was eternally walled up within. Seemingly not however. But each rebuild of the wall seems to have a small therapeutic benefit. Each escaped particle of hurt seems to be more manageable once broken off, identified and isolated from the hurtful lump within. Then, when it is small and more easily manageable, it can be addressed and I can move forward.

Thanks again Steph. xx

bev_1.jpg

Not for just anyone

Jamie Lee's picture

The cess pool these coppers waded through is not for everyone, too many could not handle the emotional turmoil or have the compassion to take the cases seriously.

Jon believing this type of investigating is not for him because it causes it emotional pain, shows he cares about the victim and would do a good job. He just needs to find a healthy outlet that helps keep him from burning out in an unhealthy way.

Others have feelings too.