Broken Wings 78

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CHAPTER 78
I spent the next hour catching up on so many things with Benny, together with his husband and Roger, who drew me out of myself with his absolutely shameless camping. I actually found myself smiling, then laughing out loud, as he told stories of his life with his late husband. I caught a hint of tears from Peter every so often, but when Roger described their wedding, we were all roaring with laughter.

“So there we are, outside our delightful little Danish lattie, and I pick up darling Simon, and I nearly put my back out, and of course he has to do the same, across the threshold, and we have a toast, of course, with decent bubbly”

Peter started snorting, Benny looking at him with a puzzled expression. Peter waved a hand.

“Sorry, my love. Simon told me the story years ago. That toast, Roger?”

The other man’s eyes went a little distant, memories dancing behind his eyes, as he sobered more than a little.

“Debbie, that was a different world back then, for those of us who lived in its borderlands. Simon and I, up to that point, we had to play the part of friends and no more, and we actually drew up a contract just in case of serious illness or death. We decided to express our feelings on that subject”

Peter was nodding.

“Simon tells me that you all faced to the West and that the toast was to the gentlemen of England”

He paused, just long enough, before adding, “With the tutti response ‘Fuck you!’ if I have it right”

Roger’s gaze went to the mug in his hands.

“My darling was always the swifter in wit. I… Debbie? Is there perhaps someone in your own life?”

I drew a couple of breaths, seeking the right words.

“There was a time, Roger, when I believed that it might happen, but, well, that bastard’s shadow still sits on my shoulder. Crap metaphor, sorry, but I am sure you get what I mean”

Roger looked over towards the Elliotts, speaking quietly to us as he did.

“Yes, my dear, I do indeed understand. Young Stevie there was almost lost to us, even when Karen there found him once again. Such memories are pernicious things. Perhaps, once we have finished with that vile creature Cooper?”

I didn’t really believe that, but I still nodded and shared a smile.

Diane had been deep in conversation with the Elliotts’ son, and when the younger local policeman returned, she called her boy over to her, raising an arm for attention

“Thank you all for today. Thank you for your courage, your honesty and for reminding Jon and me of why we do this job, and who we do it for. As you will have gathered, we now have another investigation to set up, but we have, I believe, enough from today to, at the very least, make a decent case for the Crown Prosecution Service to consider. I know that man won’t be around much longer, but after meeting him I would very much prefer that he remain well away from decent folk. Deb?”

I started, as her attention turned from what was quite a crowd to me alone.

“Aye?”

“You travelling back with us?”

“If you don’t mind, Di”

“We’ll grab you when we’re done here, then”

They made a circuit of the room to shake hands and say thanks, before going off with their colleague. Young Stevie looked up at me, his own mouth a little twisted.

“Debbie?”

“Yes?”

“Diane told me what happened to her. Is she going to be all right? I mean, that lad, Jon, aye? He’ll bounce back, in time, I think, but she’s got a real weight on her”

His voice softened, and he took my hands in his.

“I’ve lived with this shit all my life. Done my reading, like, as well as watching Dad. I know it doesn’t go away; all you can ever do is move your focus to something else. I can see that’s what you’ve done, but don’t forget to keep a little bit back for you, aye?”

He started to laugh, softly and ruefully.

“And here I am, blessed with my family, all my friends, my whole life one of blessings, giving you advice!”

He offered a hug, which felt absolutely natural to accept, and then Diane and Jon were back with us all. A round of farewells, with more than a few damp eyes, and then three of us were in a taxi back to the station, Deb asking him to drop us off on a street that seemed to consist almost entirely of pubs and takeaways. We found a convenience store, picked up a few sandwiches and sweets, and after a bit of a wait, we were on the train home, or at least the first one. As the train from Glasgow had pulled in, Di had been texting, and once we were settled around a table in the unreserved carriage, she showed us the reply, from her husband.

Mam and Dad coming round. Doing lamb and trimmings. Dad bringing beer and videos

She hadn’t been the only texting, so I showed both of them my own reply.

Meeting you at station. Got cakes for them two. XXX Gem

Jon burst out laughing, and showed us his own text.

Get back safe, love

His We both stared at him, as he started turning red, and then I made my own decision.

“Oh, sod it. That’s done, at last. There’s a café thing on this train, and I am having a beer. You two?”

The food place turned out to be in the next carriage, and while it had booze, the best of a really bad selection was Stella. Sod it, just this once. I bought three cans, and swayed my way back to my seat, to grateful smiles. I popped the seal, taking as big a mouthful as I could get so as to wash Cooper from me, while Di rummaged in her travelling bag.

“Got something for you, Deb”

“Oh?”

She suddenly looked a little uncertain.

“Yeah. It was when I was in the Dom Rep, for my wedding, innit? My best mate, Bridget, she did something with me, for me. I was down on the beach, listening to the waves. Same sort of sound when Ashley Evans, you know? And the memories…”

Fuck. Raped on a beach, then married on one. Whose idea had that been? I remembered the smells, suddenly, Cooper’s of Old Spice or Brut, Don’s just of, well, ‘Old Don’ and B.O. Find a smile for her, woman.

“I know, love. It’s associations. I get the same sort of shit from some old aftershaves. Memories get linked”

She was nodding, gratefully.

“Yeah. Well, Bridget turns to me, and she hands me a stone, and I say what’s this, and she says ‘It’s Ashley fucking Evans. Do you want him?’ and of course I say no, so she flings it out into the waves, and she shouts at it to fuck off and never come back”

I found Stevie Junior’s words coming back to me, about focus, and blessings.

“That’s a true friend, girl. She really cares for you. Nice idea, too”

Di’s answering nod was a lot sharper.

“Yeah. I thought so too. That’s why I brought you this back from the Dom Rep”

A small, smooth pebble, clearly wave-washed.

“When we get some time down the Bay again? Deb, meet Charlie Cooper. Do you want him?”

I turned the stone over and over in my hand, and I suddenly realised how much I loved this woman. It was a real wash of emotion, and tied up in it were so many other thoughts, one in particular, which I put away for later, along with my stone. I had some girls to share them with.

As promised, when we eventually arrived at Cardiff, Gemma was standing at the exit next to Blake, and I was gratified to see that the displays of affection on the couple’s reunion were utterly natural. Gemma handed a cardboard box to Diane, and then Jon called out, “Oi!”

Diane looked up with a grin, clearly guessing the reason for his outburst.

“Yes, Mrs Perkin?”

“You can stop that, cause you are not Candice, and never will be! Divvy them up, DC Sutton!”

Blake was snorting, and I saw him nudge Gemma, who was obviously feeling overwhelmed by the slab of beef nest to her.

“Um, Nana texted me again, so…”

She dipped into her rucksack, bringing out another box of treats.

“Nana said you would argue, so I did two lots”

Jon harrumphed.

“And you didn’t think to just say that right away?”

My girl was grinning now.

“Na! No fun that way, is there?”

Di and Blake dropped the two of us off at the House, Jon heading for a bus, and as we opened the back door, Gemma turned to me with a slightly worried expression.

“Can we talk, Nana? Just the two of us?”

“What’s up, love? Not your Dad again?”

She shook her head quickly, and of course, it would never be Frank, certainly not Judy…

“Who’s giving you grief?”

Again, she shook her head.

“Not that. You remember what Clara did when she went to college with the others? Cakes and that?”

“Yes, of course. Got you a load of customers, you said”

“Yeah, it did. It’s… Look, Doc Thomas has had me on the hormones for a while, isn’t it? Got boobs growing, real ones? Not padding? Getting realer, I am, and… One of the girls has an older brother, and he plays rugby, and…”

She stood up straighter, suddenly finding determination from somewhere deep inside.

“He’s called Marty, and he is gorgeous, and we’ve sort of been grabbing a coffee together on his lunch breaks for a little while, and am I being stupid?”

“Does he know about, you know, where you come from?”

Her eyes fell once more, and she nodded.

“Everybody does, round there. Dad made sure of that”

“And what has he said, love?”

“He said… He said it doesn’t matter, and that it does matter, but that’s only because it matters to me, and that it’s not a problem”

I tried to find the right words, knowing that I needed to vet this boy, man, whatever.

“Well, Kim, Cathy and Nell seem to be okay at the moment”

“Yeah, but they are all pretty, and I look like a sack of potatoes!”

“And this is what Marty thinks?”

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“He says he likes the way I look”

She waved vaguely at her chest, which made me smile, and as she caught my own expression, hers changed to a slightly embarrassed grin.

“Um, yeah. Yes he does, and yes I have let him”

I hugged her tightly.

“Then we get to meet him, your sisters and me, when you feel right about it. Okay?”

A nod against my shoulder, and that thought was in my head again, the one I had put away on the train.

Take my girls down to the waterfront, with a bag of pebbles, and let them throw away their hatred and pain, and then, perhaps, I could do the same with mine, and replace them with a life.

I still had another trial to endure, though, and it was only a few weeks before I was in another court building, this time in Chester, with a Victim Impact Statement in my hands. This was it: this time I was going to bury the bastard so deep he would never emerge again.

Never.

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Comments

Hoping he means it...

Andrea Lena's picture

“He said… He said it doesn’t matter, and that it does matter, but that’s only because it matters to me, and that it’s not a problem”

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Burying it?

Was there ever a hole deep enough I wonder?

I don't know. I just built a wall around it and prayed - not to god - but to all that's decent; to all that's mendable..

bev_1.jpg

Who Said?

joannebarbarella's picture

Vengeance is not sweet? And that it is best served cold? It doesn't matter how it's served....what matters is that it IS served.

Association

Jamie Lee's picture

That's the worst part about these abuses, smells, sounds, things in every day life that suddenly reminds the person of how things were when the attacks occurred.

Things that were once pleasurable suddenly are avoided because they trigger memories of the attacks.

Redirting thought with something else, or the throwing stones into the lake or ocean, will only work until something once again triggers a memory. The only way to stop letting the memories win is to acknowledge they are memories, did happen and can't be changed. Which is something not often done.

Others have feelings too.