Sacrilege - Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

As soon as I opened my eyes some sixth sense warned me not to move.  This was just as well because, once I grew accustomed to the gloom, I realised I was trapped in an air hole and a heap of debris was poised to fall and crush me into tiny pieces.

“Laurence…?” I heard a croaky whisper and recognized the voice.

“Ryan, is that you? What on earth are you doing here?”

“Not a lot,” was the wry response.

“You know damn well what I mean,” I retorted, “What is…?”

“A nice boy like me doing in a place like this?  You may well ask!”

 “So much for your employment prospects,” I commented and even managed a grin.

The pile of debris gave an ominous shudder. I closed my eyes and mouth as dust and soot streamed into the small space where I lay.

“Laurence, are you okay?”

“Never better,” I responded with a cheerfulness that was so forced it dismayed me. It suggested I had given up and was past caring. How dare I be cheerful? I continued to remonstrate with my less hysterical side, only to wish I hadn’t bothered as terror closed its jaws on me. Ryan?” I called out but it seemed ages before I heard his voice again. In the meantime, fangs began tearing at my flesh and drew blood.

I felt a sharp stabbing pain pass from my head to my toes and back again before I lost consciousness for a second time.

“Laurence, are you okay?”

I heard the voice and only vaguely realised it did not belong to Ryan Banks. I opened my eyes. At the same time, I became dimly aware of movement all around me, noises and…yes, a blast of cold air in my face! 

Oh, bliss, I was outside and…safe.

Someone was bending over me where I lay on what I later realised must have been a stretcher. Philip? My heart leapt but before he could say a word, I was bundled into the back of an ambulance and whisked away, sirens screeching, to hospital.  But I would recall little of it, having already succumbed to that extreme comfort zone we call oblivion.

The next time I woke, it was such a mater-of-fact affair that I thought at first that I was in my own bed until I noticed the drip and realized it was attached to my person.  A drip has to mean I am in hospital, right?  So why am I in hospital? Immediately, I regretted asking myself that question. My head began to throb and I felt increasingly nauseous as I proceeded to recall events of the past…How many hours? I had no idea. Nor did time play a major part in the sequence of distorted flashbacks that homed in on my semi-consciousness like a faulty video link.

“Ah, Mister Fisher, you’re awake, I see. How are you feeling?” A nurse with gargoyle features and hair piled high arrived to carry out several procedures that I could only assume were meant to confirm my general state of well-being, for better or worse.

“I’m thirsty,” I managed to say and was much relieved when she took a beaker of water on a cupboard beside the bed, held it to my lips and enabled me to drink the lot.

“Is that better?” she asked in a kindly rather than the clinical fashion I had always associated with hospital staff.

But I made no reply. I was already fast asleep.

When I woke up again, the ward was bustling with activity and sunlight was streaming through those of its windows where its path remained unblocked by other buildings.

I glanced to either side, saw that both beds were curtained off and found myself wondering if one of them might be harbouring Ryan Banks. Ryan. I started, puzzled. What had Ryan being doing at the Packard place?  Immediately, my chagrin threatened to overwhelm me. The more important question of course was had poor Ryan survived the fire? Danny. Teresa. How could I have forgotten?  I’d have sat bolt upright, but didn’t have the energy. As it was, I was close to tears and could only close my eyes in a vain attempt to make the whole ghastly scenario go away. “It’s all such a damn mess!” I wailed, inwardly I thought, not realizing I had shouted for the whole ward to hear.

“You can say that again.” Philip’s voice drifted into my hazy consciousness with a discernible note of reprimand that struck me and so unsympathetic and unfair that I opened my eyes and prepared to do battle. “What were you doing there in the first place?” Philip demanded as I took in the inconsequential fact that he had closed the curtains around my bed.

My hackles went into overdrive. “How are you Laurence? Good to see you alive and in one piece Laurence. I’ve missed you Laurence. Oh, and I love you Laurence.” I responded peevishly and met his glare with one of my own until I saw the tears in his eyes. “I love you too,” I mumbled seconds before he kissed me.

It was a long, fruity kiss, planted squarely on my lips with a passion he hadn’t demonstrated for a long time.

“Danny, Teresa?” I was anxious to know.

Philip could only shrug. “I have no idea,” he told me, “You can imagine the panic and confusion. Packard is okay. Well, he would be, wouldn’t he? They‘ve always had the luck of the devil, that family. You know…” He faltered. “It took the fire crews four hours to get you and Banks out,” His grim expression told me that I, too, must have the luck of the devil. “How well do you know Banks?”

The question caught me off guard. I felt the colour rush to my face, reached for the tumbler and took refuge in several sips of water. How much did Philip know? How could he know anything unless Danny…? But Danny would never grass on me, even to Philip. Besides, as far as Danny was concerned it was pure guesswork.

“We looked death in the face together, that’s all,” I mumbled. To my astonishment and rising indignation, he threw back his head and roared.

“Oh, Laurie, you are such a drama queen!”

I would have protested, but he leaned forward and kissed me again. He wrapped his arms around me, with due consideration for my bruised ribs, and I clung to him. That was my mistake. As he prised my arms loose from his neck, I recognized the look that plainly warned, don’t get too close. Nobody has forever, even you and me.

We were close, Philip and I, very close. And we did love each other. At the same time, he always kept a distance of sorts between us. It’s hard to explain, but I was always aware of a gap. It had always been there, such a tiny gap that I hadn’t paid it much attention at first. Slowly but surely, though, the gap had become a chasm. Even in each other’s arms and kissing, I had a sense of his not being ready to go the last mile.

“I have to go,” he said gruffly. “I shouldn’t really be here at all. But when I saw it was you they finally pulled out from under that pile of rubble I…Well, I had to make sure you were okay, didn’t I?”

I bit my lip. He was an undercover cop, for heaven’s sake? For all I knew, he may have risked his life coming to the hospital.

“Banks is okay, by the way. He’s in much the same condition as you, just a few scratches and bruises. His rib cage has taken a bit of a battering but he’ll live. You were lucky, the pair of you…damn lucky.” I hoped my expression was giving nothing away but was not reassured by his next comment. “Stay away from Ryan Banks, Laurence. Whatever his reason for being at the house last night, I don’t imagine it was purely social.”

He left, tugged the curtain open, walked at a deceptively leisurely pace down the ward and through the double doors at the end without looking back.

How much, I wondered, did Philip know about Ryan and me?” 

The double doors, swung open again. My heart missed a beat. But it was not Philip returning but Ryan Banks. He was limping slightly and wore a wicked grin on his face.  My pleasure, though, was mixed with a rush of apprehension when I spotted May Finn a few steps behind him carrying a holdall. If her expression was meant to reduce me to a pulp, it easily succeeded.

Ryan was sitting on my bed when the widow stopped, treated us both to a withering look and pulled up a chair.

I introduced them. “Ryan and I were trapped together,” I explained and was relieved when the widow relaxed and seemed genuinely pleased to shake the hand Ryan held out to her. If there was any awkwardness, I put it down to Ryan’s having to offer his left hand since his right was securely bandaged.

“I brought you these.” She dumped a bag of scones unceremoniously on the bed, “Oh, and these.” Another bag was produced containing a huge bunch of grapes to which Ryan wasted no time helping himself. “There are some pyjamas, a towel, some toiletries and a change of clothes in the bag.” She indicated the holdall.

“Thank you,” I said meekly, and wanted to ask about Danny but Ryan’s presence prevented me without my quite understanding why. I could only suppose it had something to do with Philip warning me off.  I sighed. Sometimes Philip played the policeman to extremes. Yes, the Packards were a bad lot and Ryan had accepted a job with them, but it was hardly fair to tar him with their brush.

“Jackie sends regards,” the widow was saying, “She’s gone to see your brother. I dare say she wants to reassure him that all’s well that ends well after last night’s shenanigans…as well as can be expected, anyway,” she added with only a hint of a smile on the thin lips.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Danny and Teresa were safe…for now, at least. But for how long?

“Cheer up, Laurie. We’ve just escaped the jaws of death, for goodness sake.  As soon as we get out of here we’ll break open a bottle of champagne.”

I winced. Few people ever called me Laurie, only those closest to me. I sensed rather than saw the widow stiffen and realized Ryan’s familiarity hadn’t escaped her notice. I winced, but not in pain. The woman had eyes like a hawk and a sensory system that would make a bat’s look amateurish. I could only hope she would put it down to the bond peculiar to people who have shared the same traumatic experience.

May did not stay long.

“She’s tough old bird,” murmured Ryan as we watched her stride towards the double doors and out of sight.

“She’s that alright,” I agreed and felt slightly sick. The stiffness of her walk and the way her shoulders kept twitching was like a semaphore message telling me that if I thought for one second I’d put one over May Finn, I should think again. Whatever impression she might have of my relationship with Ryan Banks it was not one of two trauma buddies.

I was discharged the next day, but not after being kept hanging around for hours to see a doctor who pronounce me a lucky man and fitter than a deserved to be. If only you knew, I reflected, guiltily. Jackie had arrived to drive me back to the widow’s house, but got bored waiting around and declared she would wait for me in the car where she could at least listen to the radio.  She reached the double doors just as a thin, shifty looking man was entering the ward and it was with growing apprehension that I witnessed what appeared to be something of an altercation between them before Jackie disappeared. The shifty looking character took only a few steps towards me before dragging open the curtain surrounding a bed to his right and closing it again with equal vigour.

Back at the house, the widow fussed over me in a kindly but noticeably distant manner. “You could all have been killed!” she kept exclaiming, and I couldn’t quite make out if she was being sympathetic or accusing. She told me that Jackie had driven Danny and Teresa back to the house on the night of the fire and then on to my mother’s the next day.

“My mother’s, they’ve gone to my mother’s?” I was flabbergasted.

“Where else can they go? I haven’t got room for you all here. Besides,” she said stiffly, “You know me, Laurence, I’m no prude. Even so, fond though I am of Danny and much as Teresa seems a nice enough girl, I will not have unmarried couples sleeping together under my roof.”

“And you think my mother will?” The idea was laughable if not very funny, and I was hard pressed not to swear. However, while it was true the widow was no prude, neither did she like to hear bad language so, with some difficulty, I stayed silent while I digested this latest bombshell. It made sense, I supposed, albeit grudgingly. But how my mother would cope with Danny and Teresa as well as the Marc-Jackie situation was anyone’s guess.

“It’s none of my business,” May Finn was saying, “But I have to say, my heart goes out to your poor mother.”

“And so say all of us,” I muttered under my breath.

“I imagine you’ll be on the next train to find out what their plans are exactly?” It was not a question. I nodded.

“I have a few things to do first though,” I mumbled into a slice of steak and kidney pie. If she had asked, I’d have put her off the scent with some lame excuse, but as she didn’t, I felt perversely obliged to be truthful. “I promised Ryan I’d call in to see how he is. We barely had time to say ‘goodbye’ at the hospital.”

“Really…?”

“Yes, really…”

“You have his address then.”

“Of course I have his address,” I said and immediately felt the colour rush to my face. “Naturally, we made time to exchange addresses.”

“Naturally…” The widow sniffed with more than a hint of disapproval before leaving me to devour the rest of my pie in peace.

Later, I heard the front doorbell and recognized a voice in the hall as belonging to Andrew Bolton. It was my cue to leave. “Hello,” I greeted the man in passing and started to dash upstairs to throw a few basics into a holdall. My ribs had other ideas, however, and I was reduced to a slow climb. Soon afterwards, I poked my head round the living room door and called out an equally brief, “Bye!”

“Take care, Laurence,” the widow urged and a warning note brought a frown to Bolton’s face. He grunted and looked disapproving. I made a hasty get-away, trusting she would have the good sense to see the man for the cretin he was sooner rather than later. May Finn was a woman of infinite wisdom, after all. Surely she can see she’d be signing up to fate worse than death if she marries him?

It was relief, an hour later, to see Ryan and forget about them.

Neither of us was in the mood for sex. Even snuggling up to each other on the sofa to watch TV required some manoeuvring of bruised ribs and aching limbs. It was well worth the effort, though, and we were content to let a boring ‘reality’ show send us to sleep. By the time we awoke and disengaged, with much panting, grunting, groaning and a degree of swearing that would have made the widow Finn’s straight hair curl, it was far too late to think about going to my mother’s house in Reading.

Instead, we went to bed.

I did not call my mother until the following afternoon, for no other reason than Ryan and I hadn’t risen until nearly 1.00pm.

“Are you alright Laurence? We’ve all been worried sick about you. May Finn called and seemed to think you’d have been here since yesterday.”

“Sorry, Mum, I came over a bit queer on the way to Paddington so stopped off to see a friend.” I lied.

“Well, you might have called to let us know. Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, much,” I lied again. In actual fact, I felt like death warmed up and could only suppose I was suffering from some kind of delayed shock.

“How is everyone?” I asked.

“Marc and his…err…friend went out about an hour ago. Don’t ask me where, I didn’t ask. Danny and Teresa are watching television. I must say, Laurence, you might have given me some warning. They were in a dreadful state when they arrived. Fortunately, Mary was here or I’d never have coped. She lent Teresa some clothes and looked out some of Thomas’s things for Danny. Thomas is tall for his age and they’re about the same build. With much the same hair colour, you could take them for brothers…”

I bit my lip. The idea of Danny and Thomas being in the least alike struck me as more than faintly ridiculous.

“I wish your dad was here.” Her voice broke. Not for the first time, I experienced pangs of guilt about being estranged from my father for years. But that hadn’t been my fault… or had it?

My mother rallied. “Really, Laurence, people arriving like that out of the blue is  a shock I can well do without, especially at the moment with poor Mary having such a hard time with Thomas…”

I let her ramble on while I collected my thoughts. Thank heavens for my sister.  Then I remembered to ask, “Are Danny and Teresa okay? No broken bones or nasty burns?”

“Like I said, they were in a bit of a state but there’s no lasting damage as far as I can tell. Everyone seems to have got a good night’s sleep and that always helps. Everyone except me, that is. I didn’t sleep a wink. Not least, for worrying about you.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, wondered if I dare ask about the sleeping arrangements but decided not to push my luck.

“I’ll be with you about teatime,” I told her. At first she said nothing. “Mum, are you there?”

Then I heard a scream and the phone went dead.

“Mum, mum?” But there was no answer. I began to panic. Frantically, I misdialled Marc’s number three times before I heard his voice.

“Laurie, are you okay. We’ve all been worried sick.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in Reading, of course. More to the point, where the hell are you?”

“I know you’re in Reading,” I snapped, “but where?”

“Jackie and I are talking a walk by the canal. Are you okay, Laurie? You sound really weird?”

“I’ve just been talking to mum on the phone.”

“Oh, well, that explains it. She was none too pleased when the others turned up last night.”

“There was a scream and the phone went dead. You’ve got to get home, Marc, and fast. Something dreadful has happened. I just know it.”

His voice changed. In an instant, it took on a new, authoritative tone that reminded me of Philip in full throttle cop mode.”We’ll be right there. Leave it with me and try not to worry. Oh, and Laurie, drag yourself away from whatever or whoever is keeping you in London and get here a.s.a.p. Preferably this side of Christmas….”

He hung up before I could protest. I felt aggrieved. I’d been in hospital, for heaven’s sake. Doesn’t that count for something? Even so, it was unnerving that he was plainly nursing suspicions I’d rather not touch upon. Am I really that transparent?

I toyed with the idea of taking a taxi but settled for the train, arriving at Reading station a little after 1600 hours. I had tried calling Marc again, my mother and Danny too. I even tried Mary’s number. No one was picking up. What could have happened? Whatever, the chances are it’s related to recent events. Better not speculate. Oh, but easier said than done.

By the time I tumbled out of a taxi at my mother’s front door, I was a near nervous wreck.

I had my own front door key but my hand was trembling so much, I couldn’t fit it in the lock. Then Danny flung open the door, a huge grin on his face.

“You made it then? Jesus, dad, you gave us all a scare!” He flung his arms around me.

“What’s going on?” I demanded. “Where’s my mother?  One minute we were chatting on the phone, the next I heard a scream and not a word since….”

“Your mum’s okay. Well, sort of. Here, let me take that.” He took my bag and I followed him into the kitchen. If I had a quid from every crisis my mother’s kitchen table had seen, I would be a rich man indeed.

Teresa was there and already had the kettle on.

“What do you mean ‘sort of’,” I continued to quiz Danny but returned the girl’s shy smile with what I hoped was a reassuring one of my own.  Not that I was feeling in the least reassured myself, quite the contrary. “Where is Marc? What the hell is going on?”

“Sit down and shut up while Terri makes us all a cup of tea and I fill you in.” Danny practically pushed me into a chair and sat next to me. “While you were on the phone to your mum, Thomas burst in…”

“Thomas? What has Thomas to do with anything?”

“Sod all, really, except he was covered in blood and your mum got a bit hysterical.”

“Blood…Thomas?” I began to panic again. “Is he alright? How did it happen? Tell me it wasn’t those damn Packards. They can’t have tracked us down here, surely?”

“Not as far as we know.” Danny’s response was cagey and less than reassuring.

“Thank God for that!” A surge of relief made itself felt in my bladder, but I managed to restrain myself.

“Besides, how would they find us here?” Danny went on. “Anyway, that’s all I know. Thomas was in no fit state to tell us much. Frankly, he couldn’t get a word out without coughing up the red stuff. Marc and Jackie took him to the hospital. Your mum went too of course. Teresa and me, we wanted to call for an ambulance but Marc insisted. He said there wasn’t time for all that so they took Jackie’s car and made off like nobody’s business. He had a point, I suppose. The poor kid looked pretty rough.”

In spite of everything, I was mildly amused to hear Danny refer to my nephew as a kid, given that only a few years separated them.

“I need to go for a pee,” I announced and fled the room

Later, over several cups of tea, Danny related how he and Teresa had escaped the fire before it had time to get a complete hold. “It looked worse than it was at first,” he told me, “then suddenly…whoosh! And it was everywhere! Once we got outside, we went spare for thinking you might be trapped. By then, the whole house looked about to collapse.”

“He wanted to go back for you but I wouldn’t let him,” said Teresa quietly. She hadn’t said much and the sound of her voice startled me. I looked into the lovely face, its expression grave. “I could not face losing him again,” she added almost apologetically.

“I should say not,” I agreed and glared at Danny, “Whatever were you thinking of?”

“How was I to know you’d make it on your own, especially with your track record?” Danny snorted and drank some more tea, but not before I glimpsed the pain in his eyes.

“Yes, well…” I mumbled, “contrary to general opinion, I can look after myself.”

“You’ve got the devil’s own luck, I’ll grant you that,” said Danny, the familiar grin back in place.

“Huh!” I retorted. “If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black, I don’t know what it.”

For a second we confronted each other as only two people can who care very much about each other.

“How can I ever thank you enough? You risked your life for me,” said Teresa, breaking the spell as much to Danny’s relief as mine. 

I shrugged. “It was nothing,” I told her before rounding on Danny, “I warned you how dangerous playing with fire can be.”

But Danny was having none of it. “Don’t you wag your finger at me like that,” he admonished me, eyes shining with mock reproach. “You’re the one that started it. There I was, thinking you could be trusted to make sure there was more smoke than fire and all the time you were plotting arson!””

“There was this cat…” I began, and then thought better of it.

“Oh, really…? You’ll be telling us next that a cat started the fire.”

“It was horrible, but it’s over and we are all safe,” Teresa pointed out.

“It’s a small miracle no one was killed,” Danny muttered as he helped himself to a chocolate biscuit from a tin with an elaborate if faded design that had been in my family for as long as I could remember.

I tried calling Marc again without success and was reluctant to leave a voicemail message.

“If they are still at the hospital,” said Teresa whose quiet voice of reason was starting to irritate me, “they may not be allowed to use mobile phones.”

I dialled again, this time for a taxi.

I found them sitting in a corridor at the hospital, looking grim faced and tired. My mother had an arm around Mary while Marc and Jackie were sipping something that could have been tea or coffee from plastic cups. There was no sign of Ian, Mary’s husband. Where could he be, I wondered? Why wasn’t he here where he belonged? If it were my son rushed to hospital, wild horses would not have kept me away. Or if it had been Danny lying at death’s door…

“How is Thomas?” I asked Mary but it was my mother who answered.

“He’s in Intensive Care. They say there’s every chance he’ll make a full recovery, but…” her voice dropped to a throaty whisper, “the knife narrowly missed his heart.”

“Knife…?” I was gobsmacked. “You mean he was stabbed?  I thought he’d been in some kind of accident.”

“We all thought that at first, but he managed to tell us a little about what happened on the way here. I knew something like this would happen. I couldn’t believe he’d been excluded from school for carrying a knife. I kept telling myself it had to be a terrible mistake. But now…” She wrung her hands. “He swears he doesn’t belong to any gang but you read about it all the time, don’t you, rival gangs attacking each other?”

“The police were here earlier,” said Marc, “and they’ll be back of course. But Thomas hasn’t regained consciousness since he passed out in the car so there’s not much point in their hanging around. According to Thomas, he just was walking along the road listening to his MP3 player. He wasn’t up to anything, just… walking along the road.  Apparently, he was opening your mum’s front gate when some man he’d never seen before got out of a car and stuck a knife in his chest. It’s a small miracle he made it into the house. He gave us all a real scare, I can tell you.”

Marc’s face was grey. He sounded and looked more shocked than any of us. I guessed what was going through his mind because the same thing was going through mine. If the Packards were behind the attack on Thomas, it was not only meant as a warning they meant business but also that they knew where to find us. “But stabbing a fifteen year-old boy…?”  Dazedly, I struggled with the implications.

“There’s been a growing gang culture locally for some time,” said Mary, “That’s why I’ve been so afraid Thomas might be mixing with a bad crowd.  Oh, he denies it. But he would, wouldn’t he? He used to bring friends home but he doesn’t any more. He seems to have lost touch with most of his old mates. And you are so right. A fifteen year-old getting stabbed in broad daylight on the streets of Reading in 2006 is scary, to say the least.” She began to cry and fell into my mother’s arms.

Marc and I exchanged meaningful glances. He shook his head so slightly that I doubt the others would have noticed. He was absolutely right of course. This was neither the time nor the place to let my family in on the fact that matters were not only even worse than they appeared but also likely to worsen.

The hospital was unbearable stuffy and I was feeling claustrophobic. I went outside to get some fresh air.

The more I thought about it, however, the less sense it made that the Packards could have been responsible for what had happened to my nephew. More likely, as my sister had suggested, it was the result of local gang rivalry. For one thing, how would the Packards have tracked us down so quickly? “Oh, no…!” I cried aloud.  A small miracle no one was killed, Danny had said. How can he know that for sure? Who has he been talking to? One name sprung to mind. It has to be Ginny Sharp, damn her. I groaned aloud. But Danny’s no fool. He won’t have risked contacting to Ginny, surely?

I keyed in Danny’s number on the mobile. But it wasn’t Danny who answered although I recognized the voice.

“Hello, Mister Dead Man Walking? How are you today?” 

Before I could say anything, the phone went dead. I felt physically sick with fear although I like to think I was less concerned for myself than for Danny. What did my mystery stalker think he was playing at? More to the point, how had he got hold of Danny’s mobile phone?

It crossed my mind that the phone creep might be responsible for putting Thomas in hospital and it may have nothing to do with the Packards after all. But even supposing that were true, what possible motive could anyone have for stabbing poor Thomas?  

Nothing made any sense.

Suddenly, the phone conversation I’d had with my mother earlier came back to haunt me, about Danny borrowing some of Thomas’s clothes. They could be taken for brothers, she had said.

My heart missed a beat. Could it be that Thomas was mistaken for Danny? Had my stalker intended to get at me through Danny, realized his mistake and tried again? Another, even more dreadful possibility struck me. Is that how he’d come by Danny’s mobile phone, taken it from a dead body?

I bent double and vomited.

To be continued on Friday

Sacrilege - Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

I  heard Danny’s sharp intake of breath. Packard heard it too. They had paused on a stair just a few above where I stood unable to decide whether the feeling engulfing me was relief or dread.

“Isn’t she something?” Packard was saying.

 I did not catch Danny’s reply.  We were transfixed, as if under a spell and unable to take our eyes off the young woman looking down at us with so blank an expression she might have been a waxwork model. She wore a plain green silk dress and, as far as I could see, hardly any make-up but for a smear of lipstick. A silver chain hung around her neck and matching earrings dangled from her lobes.

She looked absolutely stunning.

Some women, I reflected, looked fantastic whatever they wore. Teresa was such a woman. She exuded a powerful charisma yet, at the same time, an indefinable vulnerability, as if she were asserting a reinvention of herself while unable to quite let go of the original. If she recognized either Danny or me, she gave no sign. Why should she, I asked myself?  She and I had, after all, met only briefly in the park. As for Danny, his Gothic appearance would have fooled his own mother.  I began to relax.

Teresa remained perfectly still until all three of us had reached the landing where she stood.

“We have guests, my dear,” Packard purred.

“So I see.” Teresa response was as icy as her composure. She glanced at the packed floor below. Three pairs of eyes automatically did the same. It was as if we were in a trance, three grown men doing as were told.

“Two special guests,” said Packard sharply and broke the spell.

Nonplussed, I hastily recovered my roaming profile. Teresa, too, instantly came to life, albeit much in the manner of a marionette having its strings pulled.  She became gracious and welcoming. Yet, none of it rang true.

I fancied could smell this beautiful young woman’s fear. No, worse than fear,  abject terror, her performance all the more remarkable for it. She showed us into a vast, luxuriously furnished room that boasted not only a sumptuous double bed but also a well stocked bar in one corner and a 50 inch screen plasma TV along one wall. In front of leather swivel chair in another corner, stood what even I could see was a state of the arts computer, complete with web cam. A huge mirror took up most of the wall opposite the bed and I wondered if it was a two-way affair.

“Please sit.” Teresa indicated three armchairs near the bar. “What can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll have my usual,” Packard told her and our guests will have the same, I’m sure. I refer, gentlemen, to a fine malt whiskey that no one but no one can refuse.

“Have you got any beer?” Danny piped up.

I thought I saw Teresa wince slightly at the sound of his voice, but could not be sure.

“I’m sure we have some in the refrigerator,” she told him and I expected her to leave the room and fetch some. Instead, she bent and opened what I’d taken for a cabinet but turned out to be a fridge and retrieved a can of lager.

“You will join me, Mister Finn?” Packard purred again. I sensed it was more of a command than a question and my hackles soared, but I nodded, fervently wishing I was anywhere else but in this absurd situation. Either I was too old to be playing charades, I reflected grimly, or I simply didn’t have the stomach for it.  Danny, on the contrary, seemed to be taking it all in his stride. No surprises there. Why then, I wondered, did I find it so damn irritating?

“So, where are your manners?” Danny rounded on a startled Packard and then turned to Teresa without waiting for a response. “I’m Daniel and this is Larry.” Danny introduced us.  She shook hands with us both, smile fixed, no trace of inflexion in her voice. Her eyes struck me as so dull and lifeless that it crossed my mind she may have been drugged?  It was a sobering thought.  Shivers ran down my spine. True or false, I needed no reminder that I was treading on dangerous ground.

“Welcome, “was all she said.

We drank. Not Teresa, though. No one spoke.

“Well, this is cosy and no mistake,” remarked Danny cheerfully.

“Just how cosy do you like it?” Packard purred.

“Oh, we like to get very cosy. Don’t we Larry, eh?” Danny flung me a wicked grin. My mouth went dry. I settled for a nod, and what I hoped was a convincing smile in Packard’s direction. “The more the merrier, eh, Larry honey?” I gulped, nodded again, took a long sip from my glass and had to concede, privately, that it was the best whiskey I had ever tasted. I drank again, savouring it for its own sake this time, more so even than the Dutch courage I took from it.

“So what kind of sex are you into?” Danny asked Packard who seemed momentarily thrown by the directness of the question. “That is, if you don’t mind me asking a personal question? I mean, well, you hear things. Not that you can believe all you hear, of course,” he added with a mischievous gleam in each eye, “The proof of any pudding has to be in the eating, yeah?”

Packard continued to look uncomfortable.

“Me, I’m versatile,” Danny pressed on regardless. “I’m up for anything so long as the price is right.  Isn’t that so, Larry?” I took another long sip from my glass. “So what are you up for and how much? I mean to say, you didn’t bring us in here just to admire the décor, right?”

“He likes to watch, don’t you Vincent?” Teresa spoke quietly, but with such force it was like the sound of a shot ringing out.  Her face betrayed no expression nor did her voice convey any hint of emotion except, perhaps, boredom.

“Watch who?” Danny was eager to know, “me and her?” indicating Teresa, “or me and him?” pointing to me. To my horror, I felt myself blushing horribly.  “Or maybe you like to watch a threesome, yeah? You do, don’t you. You want to watch the three of us at it? Well, well, who’s a naughty little pervert then eh?” He burst out laughing.

Packard bit his lip, jaw quivering with what I took to be rage. My heart sank. We were in deep trouble now, and no mistake. Damn Danny and his big mouth. The urge to go for a pee again returned with a vengeance. Suddenly, Packard threw back his head and roared with laughter for so long that I thought he’d become hysterical.

I managed a weak grin and continued to wriggle in my seat.

“Not tonight, though, Josephine,” said Danny flatly. The raucous sounds coming from Packard’s mouth ceased abruptly and it hung open, stupidly. “We need to agree on a nice fat fee first.  I don’t come cheap. Besides, anticipation is half the fun. For you and me both, I reckon. Am I right or am I right?  Picturing it over and over it in your head will be almost as good as seeing the real thing, right?  Ah, but the real thing, that will blow you away, yeah?  Want a preview?”

Without any warning, Danny dropped his jeans to reveal that he was wearing no underpants. Almost at once, he swung round, bent over and leered at Packard through his legs before leaping up, hastily readjusting his clothes as he did so.  It was a command performance, expertly performed and over in seconds…but long enough to have Packard dribbling down his chin. I could but watch, in a state of near shock, as he snatched a polka dot handkerchief draping ostentatiously from the breast pocket of his suit, and looking genuinely embarrassed, wiped his mouth. Shoving it back into the same pocket, he proceeded to glower at us, one after the other, with growing ferocity.

Had Danny gone too far, I wondered?

“How much…?” Packard’s fierce gaze returned to meet Danny’s laid-back expression.

“If you have to ask, you can’t afford it,” Danny told him.

Packard’s chin began to wobble again while my bladder continued to call for action…or else.  “You fuck the girl and the pimp fucks you….at the same time,” he added unnecessarily.

“We’ll think about it, won’t we, Larry?”  I nodded, unable to speak. “Have you got a number we can call?”

Packard removed his wallet from an inside pocket, pulled out a card and handed it to Danny. Danny took the wallet as well and helped himself to a wad of notes before handing it back. “You wouldn’t deny a pretty little Goth slut something on account, would you?” he chuckled.

Packard’s chin went into overdrive. “So long as it is on account,” he purred at last, “I’d hate to think you were playing me for a mug.”

“Now, would I?” It was Danny’s turn to purr.

“I think not,” agreed Packard, “You strike me as someone who enjoys life to the full. A pretty little Goth slut, you say? I couldn’t have put it better myself. A fine figure of one too. I’d hate to have to dismember it piece by piece. Besides, it might hurt. I dare say I’d have to stuff your balls in your mouth to keep you quiet. Now, that wouldn’t be such a pretty sight, would it, eh?” 

Danny swallowed hard. I felt faint.

Packard went up to Danny and kissed him hard on the mouth.  At the same time he gave a long, hard squeeze between Danny’s legs. I heard Danny yelp. Packard released him. “You wouldn’t deny me something on account, would you?” he purred and glanced at Teresa. “It will be my special treat, something for us both to look forward to, I imagine?”

“You disgust me, all of you.” Teresa said tonelessly. “As for you…” looking directly at Danny and homing in on him with the swiftness of a lioness her prey, “You may well hide your face. But I see you for who you are, a lost soul, and I pity you for that. But I will not help you. Take me as many times as it pleases you, all three of you,” She glanced around. I felt my legs turn to jelly under her brief but penetrating gaze. “No, I will not help you. On the contrary, you will lose yourselves in me and I shall dance on your graves.”

“Prettily put, my sweet,” Packard drawled and went into a slow hand clap.

Teresa turned her back on Danny and left the room. Packard made no attempt to stop her.

 My God, I thought, what presence, what dignity! Where, I wondered, was the pretty girl I had first met in the park?

I glanced at Danny. His eyes were unnaturally bright.

“I think this calls for another drink, gentlemen, don’t you?” Packard was saying.

But I scarcely heard for struggling to jolt my senses into a semblance of working order. “Where is the nearest loo?” I panted. By the time I had answered nature’s call, the others had returned downstairs.  Not Teresa, though. We did not set eyes on her again that evening.

Packard called us a cab. Danny gave the driver a false address just as I was about to direct him to the widow Finn’s house. Later, we took another cab. By the time we finally arrived, it was three in the morning and the house was in darkness. I heaved a sigh of relief. At least we would be spared Jackie and the widow interrogating us, for now at least.

I fell into bed, feeling as if I could sleep forever. It was a good while, though, before I finally dropped off, wondering whether I could face waking up to whatever fate  (and Danny) might have in store for me next.

Although I hadn’t expected to sleep, I did, like a log in fact, so much so that it was late morning when I finally awoke to find I had the house to myself. Alas, not for long. Danny burst in a few hours later just as I was launching a fiercely vocal attack upon an awful chat show host on TV and tearing his program to metaphorical shreds for being a load of contrived bullshit.

“Have you completely lost it or what?” Danny demanded, “I’ve heard of people getting hooked on daytime TV but…shouting at it?”

I felt myself blush crimson, much as I had years ago when my mother had entered my room without knocking and caught me masturbating into a handkerchief. “These chat show people, they make me so angry,” I blustered. “Would you rather I throw something at the screen and break it?”

“I suppose not, especially as it’s not even your TV,” Danny agreed as he dived into the nearest armchair, let both legs dangle over the arm and regarded me with a look of smug satisfaction that made me cringe. I knew what was coming. “I’ve had an idea.”

“Oh?”

“A fire….”

“A fire…?” I tried to hide sense of foreboding that threatened to make me throw up.

“A fire at the Packard place…. That’s how we’ll get Terri out of there. We’ll start a fire, and in all the confusion help her slip away. It doesn’t have to be much of a fire. We could set off loads of smoke in a wastepaper basket or something, just enough to scare everyone. Jackie can be waiting in the car nearby, just like last time. You and me, we’ll need to stay put so no one can point the finger, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Not if we’re burnt to a crisp, it won’t, no,” I agreed.

“Like I said, more smoke than fire. It’s a good idea.”

“It’s a mad idea. Worse than that, it’s…it’s…bloody dangerous, for one thing. Someone might get hurt, killed even. People have been known to choke to death on smoke, you know. Anything could happen. The house could go up in flames, along with a fair number of its occupants…including you, me and, yes, Teresa too! Besides, even if things did go according to plan, there’s no guarantee she would be able to slip away, and then it will all have been for nothing. No, Danny, no, no, NO.”

Danny grinned like a cat that’s been at the cream. “I knew you’d go for it.”

“Haven’t you forgotten something?” I saw a chink in his self-confidence and went for the jugular. “Not only will the fire brigade turn up, but also the police. Do I have to remind you that your girlfriend is an illegal immigrant?”

Danny shrugged. “It’s a chance we’ll have to take. Besides, the cops will have enough on their plate sorting the chaos.”

“It maybe a chance you’re willing to take, but not me! If you want to go ahead and play knight errant, devil take the hindmost, that’s up to you, but you can count me out. Out, Danny. Do you hear me? Out, out, OUT.”

“Knight who?”

There was no talking to Danny once he was set on something. I not only stormed out of the room, but also out of the house.  How could he even think I would agree to such a half-baked plan? I was angry. More than angry, I was livid. It took an hour of brisk walking to calm down and consider the situation rationally, a process that  involved conceding with mounting dismay that, much as Danny’s plan scared the living daylights out of me, he’d find a way to put it to the test with or without my help.

Almost in tears, I called Ryan Banks on my mobile phone but got no answer. Then it suddenly beeped, and I recovered a message from Danny asking if I was ok. I sighed. How could I love Danny to bits the way I did and want to wring his neck at the same time? I sighed again and answered my own question. Probably, it has a lot to do with his feeling the same way about me.

I did not go back to the house all day and stayed at Ryan’s place that night. Oh, I sent a text to say I’d gone to see a friend and not to expect me back until the next day at the earliest, but was in no doubt that Danny would recognize it for what it was, a mere delaying tactic. Nor did snuggling up in bed with Ryan do much to relieve either my apprehension regarding Danny or my guilt about being unfaithful to Philip. I loved Philip, for heaven sake, whereas Ryan …

What did Ryan Banks mean to me? 

“I wish I knew,” I murmured inaudibly into the mop of red hair beside mine, and eventually fell asleep.

There was no sign of the widow when I returned to the house. Danny and Jackie were at the kitchen table playing pontoon with a mixture of ginger nuts, chocolate fingers and wine gums.

“Want to play?” Danny asked.

“I wouldn’t bother if I were you,” said Jackie, “He cheats.”

“I do not!” Danny protested.

“So what do you call helping yourself to my winnings? I’d have heaps more wine gums than you if you didn’t keep eating them!”

“Don’t we have more important things to talk about?” I snapped irritably.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” said Jackie.

“I’ve thought it all through,” Danny informed me with a serious expression that made my heart sink to its second home in my bowels.

“Oh, really…?” I groaned and sat down.

Needless to say, a couple of evenings later, Danny and I left Jackie parked in a lane at the back of the house in Richmond and prepared to give Vincent Packard more than he bargained for. In spite of grave misgivings, I could not deny a growing excitement. It more than compensated for the sheer terror coursing through my veins if diluted somewhat by adrenalin taking the same route.

We were frisked at the door as before, but no one took any notice of our cigarette lighters. Thankfully, I needn’t have worried that someone might have thought it curious that I wasn’t carrying any cigarettes. Danny had bought me a packet of twenty but I’d left it on my dressing table. Well, I ask you? Who’s going to remember cigarettes when they don’t even smoke?  The lighter was different, that was part of the plan.

Plan, did I say? Danny’s ‘plan’ was that we play it by ear…and heaven help us all as far as I was concerned. I was supposed to start a fire while meant to be visiting the toilet, but we hadn’t actually got around to discussing details…such as the where and how exactly.  “Use your loaf,” was all Danny would say, “When you see your chance, grab it.” In other words, he hadn’t a clue.

Vince Packard seemed pleased to see us and wasted little time escorting us to a room upstairs. Downstairs, more people were milling around than I had expected and I began to panic as I climbed the stairs behind Danny and Packard. Suppose something goes wrong and some of these people get hurt or worse? Could I live with that, I wondered? It was all very well for Danny to insist the Packards only socialised with the cream of London’s criminal fraternity so we would be doing everyone else a favour, but it was not an argument that carried much weight with me. So why was I here?  Oh, Danny, what have ever I done to deserve you? I groaned inwardly.

We entered a large, plush bedroom similar to but not the same as before. Several armchairs were scattered about and there was glass cocktail cabinet in one corner, but the room was dominated by a luxurious double bed whose coverings comprised a black satin fitted sheet and pillows with pillowcases to match. The walls were painted pink and there were fluffy black rugs on the laminated flooring.  In addition, there was what I suspected may have been a two-way mirror on one wall.

Packard made us cocktails, and we chatted idly for a while. Suddenly he said, “Suppose you strip off and do your stuff, eh?”

I nearly choked.

“We haven’t discussed terms yet,” Danny coolly reminded our host.

Packard reached in the inside pocket of his jacket and tossed a thick envelope to me. Momentarily, disconcerted, I remembered just in time that I was supposed to be Danny’s pimp as well as his lover. I counted out a thousand pounds sterling in crisp notes and relayed my findings to Danny.

“It will do on account I suppose” said Danny.  I watched Packard’s eyes narrow and his whole body tense. “but I thought we were having company?”

As if on cue, a door opened that I hadn’t noticed because it blended in so well with décor. Teresa entered. She looked stunning, dressed only in a white silk negligee that hung just below her waist and matching panties.

“Ah, Teresa, as you can see, we have guests. You’ll remember them, of course, so we can dispense with introductions. They were just about to take off their clothes, weren’t you gentlemen?”

“I need to go for a pee,” I blurted.

“Later,” Packard purred.

“Now,” I insisted. “We don’t want any accidents, do we?”

“If you say so,” Packard agreed, and I struggled to conceal my relief, “but strip first and then make your choice.”

“My choice…?”

“I am sure Daniel would love to be showered with golden rain. Alternatively, I’m sure Teresa will be only too happy to oblige.  She loves it, don’t you, my sugar plum?”

“Your wish is my command,” said Teresa lightly enough, but,to anyone listening for it, the sweet, clear voice rippled with undisguised contempt.

Packard threw back his head and roared with laughter. I seized the opportunity to make eye contact with Danny, but he was gazing like a love-sick schoolboy at Teresa. Had I not known they were about the same age, I would never have guessed. She not only seemed so much older than he, but also conveyed a statuesque beauty that was timeless.

 “I need a shit,” I declared.

“And I don’t do brown,” said Danny, “for anyone,” he added and glared at Packard.

“Very well,” Packard agreed while visibly annoyed and addressing Danny without so much as a glance in my direction, “Larry may go to the toilet while you and Teresa get to know one another. Take of your clothes.”

No one moved or spoke.

“Turn left outside the door and it’s the first door as you bear right along the landing. Oh, and Larry darling…” I gulped under Packard’s stern gaze. “don’t be long. Now, come along children, let Uncle Vincent let’s see what toys he’s paid over the odds for today shall we?”

As Teresa and Danny began to undress, I slipped out of the room. I was sweating profusely by now. Moreover, my need to pee was not only real but urgent. It was with profound relief that I reached the toilet in time. Should I start a fire in the loo, I wondered?

Unsure why, I decided against that particular course of action and recalled seeing a door ajar as I’d hurried along the landing. Every other door had been shut, possibly locked for all I knew. Ablutions done, I retraced my steps and discovered that the room, another bedroom, was unoccupied. Now what? How did one go about committing arson? I spotted a waste paper basket. That would do nicely. It was empty but, as luck would have it, was make of wicker. I retrieved a piece of scrap paper from my pocket, lit it and dropped it into the basket. Flames began to lick at the wicker…at which point a cat ran out from under the bed, sent the basket and burning paper flying and somehow the bed caught alight.

I rushed after the cat, slammed the door behind me and yelled at the top of my voice, “Fire!”

A scantily dressed middle-aged woman appeared from an adjacent room. “What’s going on?”

“I think we have a fire,” I explained, pointing to where smoke was already drifting under the door I had just shut.

“Whiskey!” the woman screamed.

“Whiskey…?” I was nonplussed, “Don’t you think a fire extinguisher would be more appropriate?”

“Whisky is my cat, you idiot!” she shrieked at me as she pushed past and grabbed the door handle.

“No!” I shouted, but too late.

 The woman flung open the door and was engulfed in smoke. She turned and ran out again, shrieking “Help, someone, help!! Fire, fire…!”

I ran to the bedroom where I had left the others then remembered that I should have closed the damn door again. I turned back.  To my horror, I saw a fireball rushing towards me. I flung open the door where I stood, practically fell into the room and slammed it shut.

“Fire…!” I croaked.

“What are you talking about? Fire, what fire?” demanded Packard.

He would have yanked open the door but I managed to whisper, “Fireball.” He pushed me roughly aside and one hand was already on the vulgar gilt handle when he suddenly froze, eyes fixed on clouds of smoke starting to pour under the door.

“Get some clothes on fast!” I heard Danny shout.  Only then did I take in the scene on the bed. Both were naked and in such a position that I realized she must have been giving him a blow job or was about to. “Danny!” I cried, shocked in spite of the gravity of our situation.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get your turn later,” Packard panted. “Now, let’s get the hell out of here.” He ran to the door from which Teresa has emerged earlier. We followed him into an ante-room where I found time to reflect, with a sense of smug satisfaction bordering on hysteria, that my suspicions about the mirror had been spot on. 

Packard tugged at the door handle. “It’s locked. Some bloody fool has locked it! When I find out who it was, they’ll pay, just see if they don’t!” He swung round and the expression on his face was a graphic mixture of bullish rage and rising terror.

“Is there another way out?” Danny came from behind me and shook Packard who was all but paralysed with shock. “There has to be another way out, yeah?” Danny yelled at the man.I warned you this might happen. I screamed silently at Danny but managed, with difficulty, to keep my mouth shut. Besides, I remonstrated fiercely with myself, hadn’t I gone along with his harebrained scheme?

Packard remained frozen. Danny shoved him aside and began banging on the door, “Help, help, help!” he yelled. We could hear a lot of shouting and screaming above a hubbub that suggested chaos and panic.

“We are all going to die,” said Teresa in a flat, matter-of-fact voice that made my blood run cold.

“No one’s going to die,” Danny tried to reassure her while continuing to bang on the door and yell for help, but did not turn round so did not see her face. When I looked, I felt my jaw drop. She was perfectly composed, her expression radiant. She wants to die. The thought struck me like a mule kick, but I could think of nothing to say as bile rose in my throat and swallowing it provided a welcome distraction.

The room was filling up fast with a choking, acrid-smelling smoke. We were all coughing. My head began to swim. For some reason I focused on the elaborate design of Packard’s belt. As a drowning man might clutch at straws, I reflected wryly, and began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Danny rounded on me. I pointed at the bunch of keys dangling from Packard’s waist. “Shit!” Danny swore and shook Packard again, even harder this time. “Those keys, will they open the door?” But Packard remained immobile as if struck dumb. Danny fumbled with the key chain until it came loose then proceeded to try them in the lock, one after the other.

I glanced behind me. Flames were now licking at the closed door. I felt a slight touch on my arm. It was Teresa. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not,” she said with a dazzling smile. But her words dragged on my ears and I felt my whole body start to fold.  Teresa watched, her impassive expression crumbling into one of infinite sadness.  In that smoky hell, she evoked a sublime presence that was nothing short of surreal.

Suddenly, I not only understood why Danny loved her but became as anxious and determined as he to save her from the likes of Vince Packard. No matter what it takes, I told myself seconds before I heard Danny give a loud whoop as the door sprung open.

Danny grabbed Teresa’s hand and ran into the smoke, yelling for me to follow.  I started to do just that, but Packard was still standing there like a zombie, seemingly oblivious of his predicament. “Come on,” I shouted, “or do you want to be burned alive?  For crying out loud, shift your ass you stupid, stupid man!” I began to despair. “For fuck’s sake, you good-for-nothing bastard, get a grip!”

As if by magic, Packard leapt into action.  He took in the situation at glance and grabbed my arm. We ran out of the room and along the landing. Smoke was billowing everywhere and the crackle of flames was deafening. We reached the top of the staircase. Most of it was on fire.

There was no way down.

Packard tried a door. It was locked. He put his shoulder to it and his big frame burst into the room in no time. “It’s a pity you couldn’t have done that just now!” I could not resist yelling. But if he heard he gave no sign. A window was visible through the smoke. He ran towards it. I was about to follow when something pawing at my trouser leg made me look down. It was the cat. I scooped it up in my arms and it made no resistance. On the contrary, it buried its head in my jacket and pressed hard against my chest.

A figure loomed up out of the smoke and crashed into me. We fell to the floor. I was the first to stagger to my feet. Instinctively, I reached out a hand to help the other man. At the same time, the face staring into mine became suddenly recognizable in spite of features distorted by fear and blackened by smoke. “What the hell…?” I spluttered.

It was Ryan Banks.

“Laurence?” was all he had time to say before the floor beneath us gave way and we were hurtling into space. 

A scream died on my lips as we plunged into a gaping pit of smoke. Absurdly, I began to panic about what Philip might think and how hurt he would be if my body were discovered next to Ryan’s and the link between us ever established. I began to cry.

 I felt fur against my skin. Not the cat, surely? Then I realized it had to be a big brown bear I knew of old and that it was safe to close my eyes.

To be continued on Monday

Sacrilege - Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

There was no sign of my mother or Marc back at the house. I scribbled a note to say I had returned to London and caught a bus to the railway station.

I arrived at the widow Finn’s mid-evening and found that formidable woman visibly upset and being comforted by Jackie.

“Thank goodness you’re back,” said Jackie, “It’s a good thing I was here and knew better than to wait around for you,” whereupon she promptly fled into the kitchen. I perched on the edge of an armchair and regarded the widow with rising concern. She was uncharacteristically distraught.

“It’s my fault. I should have seen it coming. I should never have left them alone together. But I swear to you I wasn’t out of the room five minutes,” she told me with tears in her eyes.

“Left who alone together?” I asked, increasingly anxious to know what the devil had been going on in my short absence.

“Andrew and Danny,” she explained, “Apparently Andrew called Danny a nasty piece of work, or something like that. Danny lost his temper, and by the time I returned the two of them were rolling on the floor trying to bash each other’s brains out. Why it is men love to behave like naughty children given half a chance, I will never know.”

I would have burst out laughing but thought better of it. “So what happened next?”

“I told them to get up off my floor immediately or I’d call the police.”

“And you did?” I was gobsmacked. She wouldn’t have gone that far, surely?

The widow shook her head and gave me a withering look. “Really, Laurence, would I? No, I had to wade in to separate them, though, and it wasn’t easy I can tell you. Andrew may be old enough to be Danny’s grandfather, but he used to box in his younger days and still has trick or two up his sleeve. Danny didn’t have it all his own way, not by a long chalk.”

I thought I detected a note of pride in her voice although her expression remained an unhappy compromise between upset and angry.

“Danny should have known better,” I sighed, “There can be no excuse for fighting with a man Andrew’s age, former boxer or no. He could have given the old chap a heart attack, for goodness sake.”

“Danny was provoked.”

“Even so…”

“Both looked the worse for wear, I have to say. But there were no bones broken as far as I could tell. I packed Danny off to the bathroom to clean himself up, but only because I wanted to talk to Andrew alone. The stupid man took everything I said the wrong way and accused me of taking sides. He said I was more concerned for Danny’s welfare than his. When I tried to talk some sense into him, he barely let me get a word in edgeways, and then stormed off to his own house in a vile temper.” She paused and shook her head impatiently. “I dare say I should have gone after him. But I was angry and upset. Why should I pander to his moods? No. Start as you mean to go on, May Finn, I told myself, and left him to it.” She heaved a huge sigh. The leathery face brightened considerably, however, when Jackie returned with three mugs of tea and a plate of chocolate biscuits on a tray.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “If you didn’t call the police, how come Danny’s under arrest and what the devil for?”

“Andrew called them later. Two officers turned up at the door, said there had been an allegation of assault and took Danny away. Naturally, I rushed next door to find out what Andrew thought he was playing at. He refused to come to the door. When I tried to use my own key, I discovered he’d put the chain on. I shouted, even pleaded with him to let me in. But, no, the stubborn old goat refused point blank. Can you believe he even had the audacity to tell me to go away and mind my own business? I ask you, is a brawl in my own sitting room none of my business?” She paused, fuming. For my own part, I was relieved to see something of the May Finn I knew and respected. “Then Jackie turned up looking for Danny,” the widow went on, “and she’s been a godsend, an absolute godsend. You’ve known me for years, Laurence. Am I some feeble old woman who can’t look after herself? No, I am not. Heaven forbid. But this stupid, stupid, business has shaken me up more than I’d ever have thought possible.” She sat back in the chair and sipped her tea, lower lip trembling with emotion. “I must be getting old,” she added crossly.

“I went down to the police station to suss out the lie of the land,” Jackie told me, “but I might as well have been something the cat dragged in for all the notice they took of me. In the end, I gave up and left, though not before giving some miserable piece of goods at the desk a piece of my mind. I’d have given a lot more, too, only she looked as if she wanted to arrest me on the spot. So I left, discretion being the better part of and valour and all that.” Jackie tossed me a wicked wink and I couldn’t help chuckling.

“I’m glad you can find something to laugh about, Laurence,” May Finn was quick to admonish me. “I only wish I could. Perhaps you would care to enlighten me? I could use a good laugh.”

Not for the first time, I found myself wilting under the widow’s reproachful gaze. Suddenly, the front doorbell rang. It was like music to my ears. “I’ll get it,” I said and rushed to answer it. I flung open the door, half expecting to find Philip waiting on the doorstep.

It was Danny.

“Danny!”

“Hi dad,” he said grinning and we hugged.

Immediately, warning bells sounded in my head. Danny invariably called me that when he was feeling emotional and enjoyed a hug for much the same reason. On this occasion, he clung to me a fraction longer than usual and I could feel his body trembling slightly. I knew better than to ask questions. Danny would reveal all in his own good time. “It’s good to see you,” I said gruffly.

“It’s good to see you too,” Danny mumbled.  In other words, we were overjoyed to see each other, not to mention relieved.

Even the widow Finn gave Danny a hug. For all that he raised his eyes to heaven at me over her shoulder, I could tell he was relishing the attention.

“You’ll be famished, I expect. Go and have a bath and change while I fix you something to eat. How does an omelette sound, with some chips and grilled tomatoes? I think I might have some bacon left too,” the widow fussed.

“Can I eat first?” Danny asked hopefully.

“You certainly cannot. For a start, you smell. Don’t they ever clean police cells? I suppose it’s hard to keep pace with drunks and drug addicts throwing up all over the place, never mind the criminal element…” She went off into the kitchen, muttering under her breath.

“Did they charge you with anything?” Jackie wanted to know.

“No. Old grumpy guts next door had second thoughts so they had to let me go. If you ask me, they had a bloody cheek keeping me in overnight. It wasn’t my fault, dad, honest. I was provoked.”

“Dad…?” Jackie’s ears pricked up as they had once before when Danny called me that.

“A slip of the tongue,” I told him a second time and glared at Danny.

“Sorry dad.” He grinned and dashed upstairs.

“Dad…?” Jackie repeated.

“Let it go,” I told him, “Danny is like a son to me. Sometimes he calls me dad, especially when he’s upset and needs some reassurance. He’s not the kind of lad to admit to either,” I added.

“Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t criticising. On the contrary, I think it’s rather sweet. You obviously love each other to bits. It warms the cockles, it really does.”

I could feel myself blushing. “I’ll go and see if May needs any help,” I muttered. We both knew she wouldn’t. I retreated into the kitchen. Much as I expected, I was sent away with a flea in my ear.

Later, we were all sat at the kitchen table drinking tea and watching Danny devour a huge supper.  “I know where Teresa is,” he mumbled with a mouthful of bacon.

“Oh and where might that be?” Jackie asked, showing more interest than I would have expected. After all, she knew Marc was safe. She had no reason to involve herself in Danny’s affairs any more.

“How do you know?” I demanded.

“I went to see Ginny.”

“You did what?” I yelled across the table.

“Sounds risky to me,” Jackie observed.

“Ginny wouldn’t drop me in it,” Danny was confident.

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” I disagreed. “She’d sell her own grandmother, that one, if the price was right.”

“Nah,” Danny insisted, “Ginny’s okay.  She’s no saint, that’s for sure. But who is, eh? We all have our good side and our bad side. The trouble with you, dad, is that you’re too quick to see the bad side.”

“Where my sister is concerned, it’s the only side that shows,” commented Jackie with feeling.

“Get on with it,” I told Danny.

“Yes, get on with it,” chimed in the widow Finn, and made us all jump. We had forgotten she was there.

“Teresa’s at Vince Packard’s place. It seems he’s really stuck on her. Mind you, that won’t stop him passing her around…for a price, of course. By all accounts, his house is like a fortress. Dogs, guards, CCTV…you name it. But I’ve got a plan.”

I groaned audibly.

Danny flung me an aggrieved look while continuing to eat and talk at the same time. “Vince has a thing for dirty movies, right? I dare say he could be persuaded to rent out Teresa’s services to the right punter, especially if he’s getting a ringside seat.”

“That’s preposterous,” I exclaimed.

“Worse than that,” the widow protested, “it’s cruel and immoral.”

“It might work, I suppose,” put in Jackie, scratching her chin thoughtfully. “Don’t look at me like that either. I can have an opinion can’t I?” She regarded the widow and me with wide eyes. “It’s no use taking the moral high ground with these people. It will get you nowhere fast.”  She turned to Danny. “So what, exactly, did you have in mind?”

“The way Ginny tells it, Vince Packard swings both ways.  The word is, though, he sees sex as more of a spectator sport.  So he won’t be able to resist a hot threesome, will he?  Apparently, he has a particular fancy for Goth boys. So, we present him with a punter who is not only loaded but has a Goth boyfriend who’s up for just about anything, right?  Before you know it, the geezer’s hooked. With my black hair, some make-up and a few accessories, I’ll be the belle of the balls, so to speak.” Both he and Jackie laughed aloud. “We’ll have to check out the layout of the place first of course then take it from there…”

He was looking directly at me. “We…?” I spluttered.

“Come on, dad, who else? Don’t say you’re not up for it. You’ve come this far, you might as well go the last mile.”

“Are you mad, or what?” I shouted across the table. “Besides, we’d never get away with it.”

“Keep your hair on. By the time I’ve finished, my own mother wouldn’t recognize me. Besides, don’t forget Vince Packard has never set eyes on either of us. Oh, I dare say he’ll have heard of us by now, yeah, but…so what? Nope. No worries on that score. It will be a piece of cake. We get all buddy-buddy with our Vincent, and play the rest by ear. The first thing is to get to Terri and let her know she’s got friends.”

“It’s far too dangerous,” I said categorically.

“It sounds horrible,” May Finn appeared to agree before adding, “but if that’s what it takes to rescue the poor girl, what choice do we have?” Three faces stare at her wearing equally stunned expressions. Even Danny was plainly taken-aback by the widow’s tacit approval of his hare-brained scheme. “Why are you all looking at me like that? I don’t like this any more than you do. But if there’s the slightest chance we can rescue this poor girl from the clutches of these awful people, surely that has to be out first priority?  Not a word to Andrew though,” she added.

“Not on your Nelly!”  Danny plainly needed no persuasion on that score.

“We should tell the police, of course,” she went on, “But I suppose that’s not an option.” It was not a question, and the subsequent heavy silence spoke volumes. “I’ll make some fresh tea.” She rose and went to the hob.

“When do you intend putting this crazy plan of yours into action?” I demanded testily.

“I need to get some gear together. That reminds me, I need some cash.” I groaned again and reached for my wallet. “Thanks, dad, and don’t look so worried. I can take care of myself. I’ll be sure and take good care of you, too, I promise.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” I told him.

“I can’t wait to see your Goth look,” murmured Jackie, “I used to be one once, you know, when I was a screwed-up youth. We girls have better taste, of course. Besides, sad but true, one comes to realize one has to grow up sometime and stop hiding behind layers of make-up.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Danny joked. Everyone laughed, even the widow Finn. The tension in the room lessened, but did not entirely evaporate.

I felt restless and uneasy. If only Philip was around to help. He always talked such good sense, irritating though that could be sometimes. Better still, he was always good for a kiss and a cuddle…and whatever else it took to make things right between us. But Philip is not around to help, and I have precious little choice but to grin and bear it and, for now at any rate. Let’s just hope Danny doesn’t get too carried away and see us all despatched to an early grave…

It was inevitable, I suppose, that I should make my way to Bow and seek what comfort there was to be had in Ryan Banks.

I was bowled over by Ryan’s enthusiastic greeting. He hugged and kissed me with a passion unlike anything he had demonstrated towards me before. Previously, he had held back. His embraces had been warm and sensual, our lovemaking a pleasure. This was quite different. In no time at all, we were in the bedroom, tearing off each other’s clothes and frantically enjoying each other’s nakedness…all within a few minutes of my arrival. He literally swept me off my feet. More fool, me, I lapped up every second of it.

“I love you,” he whispered in my ear.

“I love you too,” I whispered back before I realized what I was saying. Did I love Ryan, I kept asking myself as his mouth crushing mine, his hands exploring and exciting me in a way no one else had ever done. “Do you have a condom?” I inly just remembered to ask.

He shook his head. “Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that, but…” I tried to tell him, but was already caught up in a frenzy of making love and past caring.

It wasn’t until later, as we lay spent and content in each other’s arms, that I found myself wondering if Harry, my first love, hadn’t felt much the same way about the person with whom he had betrayed me and contracted the virus that drove him to commit suicide? Poor Harry, he couldn’t face telling me he had AIDS. No more, I reflected miserably, than I could face telling Philip I’d not only been unfaithful but also practised unsafe sex.

. What had I done? What did I think I was playing at?

I must get an HIV test, I told myself, but with no immediate sense of panic, only guilt. Even the guilt, though, the second Ryan pressed his naked body against mine and kissed me. I could only respond with an irrational desperation that cast all other feelings aside. All else paled into insignificance. We surfed waved after wave of relentless passion, made love again and… Oh, but it was so GOOD to feel wanted, loved, be able to slam the door on people and thoughts that persisted in making my life so complicated and rarely came close to giving me the simple, happy life I craved…or, did I?

Only in passing did I wonder if we aren’t inclined to idealize happiness. Or maybe we can’t see it for looking?

As far anyone else was concerned, I was visiting an old friend and might well stay over. On my return the following morning, neither May nor Danny made any further comment. Only Jackie, a frequent visitor now, gave me the occasional old-fashioned look that told me she did not believe a word I said.

A few days later, Danny announced that the Packards were throwing a party and we were invited. “Well, not so much as invited as there’s no chance we’ll be turned away,” he told me with an enigmatic expression I knew only too well and which did nothing for my self-confidence.

“So how did you manage that?” I asked warily.

 “A little bit of this, a little bit of that. It’s easy once you know how,” was all he would say.

“I was hoping you’d forgotten,” I muttered.

“Don’t look so worried dad. I’ve put all that behind me. You know I have. But there are some things you don’t forget, yeah? We learned a thing or two on the streets, Poppy and me. I’m just putting some of it to good use, that’s all.”

“If you say so,” I remained unconvinced.

“You’re not getting cold feet are you? It will go like clockwork, you’ll see. It’s not as if we’re even going to pull a fast one just yet. Tomorrow is all about putting a toe in the water. No more, no less.”

I was not in the least reassured. “Suppose someone recognizes me?”

“They won’t. No offence, dad, but you’re a pretty nondescript kind of bloke. So don’t look so worried. You have nothing to worry about, I promise. Play your cards right and you’ll have Vince Packard eating out of your hand.”

“Oh, yes, and how do you work that one out?”

“You’ll have a gorgeous Goth boy on your arm, remember?  When he sees you’re a kindred spirit, he’ll be all over you…if only to get all over me,” Danny added with a chuckle that hit a nerve.

“You can’t honestly expect me to go along with that?” I was incensed. “It’s sick, that’s what it is…sick!”

 “Oh, but that’s bollocks. It’s all in a good cause, right? Get a grip, Laurence. Once we’re well in with Vince, the rest will be plain sailing, you’ll see.”

“No, I won’t do it. I know I said I would, but I must have been mad. It’s a stupid idea and far too dangerous. If they latch on to us…well…Who knows what these people are capable of?  I won’t do it!” I leaned forward and banged my fist on the coffee table. “Ouch!” I yelped.

Danny was unsympathetic and quick to retaliate. “If you back out now, I’ll tell Phil the first chance I get how you’re doing the dirty on him behind his back. Staying with an old friend, my foot! Who do you think you’re kidding?”

We glared at each other across the room. Not only did I feel a complete fool but also knew there was no point in trying to deny it. “You’d do that after all I’ve done for you?” I was genuinely mortified.

“Here we go. Is that the only string you know how to pull? Yes, I owe you a lot, just about everything in fact, and I love you for it. But I’ll tell you what, shall I? I am sick to the back teeth of being grateful.”

Danny stormed out of the house.

The widow Finn appeared in the doorway. “Whatever’s going on? I could hear the pair of you shouting the odds upstairs. What’s got into Danny?”

“It’s this screwball plan of his. I can’t do it, May, I just can’t. It’s…gross. I don’t want to let Danny down, but…What else can I do? I’m just not cut out for all this crime fiction stuff and nonsense. Look what happened last time. We were lucky to escape with our lives. This is all too much déjà vu for me. Nor can I ever forget what happened to Poppy and Nick Carter. Whose turn will it be to get killed this time, I wonder? No, it’s too bloody dangerous. I can’t go through it all again, I just…can’t.” I slumped into the sofa.

“Sometimes, Laurence, we get stuck with situations we’re not cut out for. You don’t need me to tell you that. Yes, let’s look what happened last time you got involved with the criminal fraternity. Not just you, either. I was dragged into all that too, remember. But we survived. We’re still here to tell the tale. Because that’s the kind of people we are, Laurence, survivors. This girl, Teresa, she sounds like a survivor too. But she needs our help.  If we don’t help her, who will? The way I see it, we have no choice but to go along with Danny’s preposterous little scheme. And don’t you dare look at me like that either. I don’t like the sound of it any more than you do but…” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Heaven knows, if all our choices in life were easy ones and everyone was assured of a happy ending…Well, we wouldn’t even need God, let alone Heaven.”

A woman of few words usually, this was the equivalent of a monologue from Shakespeare for the widow Finn.  She was also a committed Christian. If this was touching on blasphemy, it was the closest I would ever hear her come.

“I’ll make a pot of tea,” she said, looking uncharacteristically flushed and out of sorts as she disappeared, predictably enough, into the kitchen.

I clenched my teeth, hammered on the sofa arm with my fist and immediately regretted it. My knuckles were still sore.

Why is it that some people are always right?  It put it another way to an increasingly self-conscious alter ego. How is it that some people always manage to put me in the wrong? “It’s not fair!” I heard myself cry out, and felt no better for it. I sighed. A cup of tea might not solve every crisis but, invariably, it was as good a start as any.

While I would have liked to adopt a heroic pose, I suspect it was with a martyred air that I rejoined the widow Finn in her kitchen.

“How are things between you and Andrew?” I ventured to ask.

“Fine, as far as I’m concerned. As for Andrew, I really have no idea. I haven’t seen him to talk to since that fracas with Danny.”

“Maybe you should…at least…well…clear the air?” I suggested.

“He knows where I am,” she said in a manner that firmly put a lid on the subject.

We sat and drank our tea, each engaged in our own thoughts and barely aware of the other’s presence. She’s right, of course, as far as my having little if any choice is   concerned…

Danny and I avoided each other until the day of the party when he joined the widow and me for late afternoon scones.”

“Are you coming tonight or not?” he demanded.

“Do I have a choice?”  I countered, glaring.

“Of course you have a choice. You don’t honestly think I’d snitch on you to Phil, do you? I thought you knew me better than that. What you get up to is your business. But that goes for me too. I’m going tonight so don’t try and stop me, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of trying,” I told him.

“Good. We understand each other.” He rose to leave the table.

“Stop squabbling like children, the pair of you, and eat up,” said the widow in a non-nonsense tone. “If you must go into the lion’s den, young Daniel, you will do so on a full stomach. I won’t have people thinking I don’t look after you properly.”

It wasn’t meant to be funny, but Danny and I exchanged knowing looks across the table. I found my lips twitching in response to a wicked gleam in the dark eyes. I gave an involuntary snort and sighed wearily. Danny merely grinned, sensing victory. He really was impossible. At least, I tried to reassure myself without much success, it was to his credit that he hadn’t enquired further about Ryan Banks.

 I was not exactly brimming with self-confidence as Jackie drove Danny and me to Vincent Packard’s house in Richmond that evening.

It was beautiful house, reminiscent of the one in Sawbridgeworth, emanating the same odour of nouveau riche and stink of corruption. There were CCTV cameras everywhere.

Danny looked spectacularly Gothic, wearing make-up and dressed head to toe in PVC. We were greeted at the door by a bald gorilla in a tuxedo. After expertly frisking us, gap-tooth grin in place throughout, he handed us over to a tall, raven-haired woman. She, in turn, introduced herself as Mercedes before leading us into a space comprising several through-rooms where a party was in full swing.

It was a noisy, boozy affair.

Danny quickly found himself surrounded champagne swilling acolytes of both sexes while I lounged in a corner wondering how on earth I had let myself be persuaded to come.

“A delightful young man,” murmured a voice in my ear. I turned to find a well-built man who wore his hair in a ponytail standing next to me. He was immaculately dressed.  Not handsome but a fierce bulldog expression and prematurely grey hair oozed a charisma that more than compensated. I followed his line of vision to where Danny was lapping up the attention. “Is he as sensational as he looks in bed?”

My hackles rose. Then I remembered Danny was supposed to be my boyfriend. “He’s a good lad,” I mumbled self-consciously.

“That has to be the understatement of the century so far, surely?” was my companion’s drooling response. “But I don’t think we know each other, do we? I’m Vincent Packard.”

“Larry Finn,” I said - another of Danny’s bright ideas - and we shook hands. His handshake was warm and firm. When he smiled, his face lit up and where only seconds before there had been ferocity, a hint of threat even, nothing remained but an easygoing, relaxed charm.  It was bizarre. Nonplussed, I distracted myself by contemplating the sure knowledge that my passionately heterosexual father must be turning in his grave.

Someone came by with a tray of full glasses. The hand in mine withdrew and Packard retrieved two glasses, handing one to me and sipped absently at the other, his attention again riveted on Danny. “He’s simply adorable. Where did you find such a treasure?  No, don’t tell me. Let me guess. Would it be that wonderful public house in Camden, the more so for being the last bastion of Gothic culture left in London?  I know it well although I have never seen the likes of…what did you say his name was?”

“Daniel,” I told him, as Danny and I had agreed.

“Daniel! Ah, yes, I see it all.”

“Oh?” I commented politely.

“You know, Daniel, in the lion’s den and all that crap? Such a tease, don’t you think?”

Before I could answer, Packard had taken my arm and was steering me towards a corner of the room where Danny was amusing a small crowd with a stream of dirty jokes. The appreciative audience parted to let us through. Everyone laughed as Danny uttered a punch line for which I was hard pressed not to give him a sound telling off.  Instead, I forced a titter that was drowned in Packard’s roar of approval.

“Very funny!” he cried and broke into a slow handclap. “Crude, though. Oh, very crude. Sounds to me like someone needs his mouth washed out with soapy water and a bloody good spanking.”

Someone snickered.

“If that’s what turns you on, be my guest,” parried Danny with a devilish grin.

Packard roared again. “Why, aren’t we a cheeky monkey? Didn’t your ma ever tell you it’s rude to be cheeky, not to mention crude, when you’re a guest in someone else’s house? You’re setting my other guests a bad example.”

“My ma would have wet herself for laughing then taken ’em off where she stood and wiped your ugly face with ’em for talking to me like that,” an unrepentant Danny retorted before adding mischievously, “Besides, I’ve heard you’re up for a lot worse.”

Packard’s eyes narrowed.  The gathering around Danny began, subtly, to disperse while the remaining few fell ominously quiet.

“Meaning what, exactly?” asked Packard in a deceptively mild voice that made my flesh crawl.

“Meaning whatever you want it to mean,” Danny giggled again.  Was this an act, I wondered or was he drunk?  Ignoring my protests, he’d been knocking back the champagne since we arrived. “Whatever, I’m game if you are. So is my friend, Larry. Aren’t you Larry?” To my horror, and without any warning, he all but threw himself at me, flung his arms around my neck and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“Get off me!” I spluttered and forcefully disengaged myself. I was reaching for a handkerchief to wipe away what I imagined must be a black lipstick stain when I remembered I was supposed to be Danny’s sugar daddy.  I could feel my already flushed face turn crimson as I mopped up beads of sweat with the handkerchief. Vincent Packard was not alone in regarding us both quizzically and with suspicion.  Did he smell a rat?  I continued to mop my face and seek sanctuary in my handkerchief.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” I heard Danny say, “Larry’s the best pimp me and my girlfriend ever had. It just so happens, we both swing both ways. He’s a shy boy. It’s a pimp ego thing, you see. You’re not supposed to fuck with the merchandise. Not good for business. I suppose you could say me and Larry, we’re sort of in the closet. Well, we were. He turned to me and giggled. “I’m sorry, Larry. It must be the champagne.”  He turned back to his audience. “Me now, I’m anybody’s if the fuck’s good and the price is right,” he added with another giggle.

A startled silence was quickly followed by loud guffaws, not least from Packard.  I caught my breath and emerged cautiously from the handkerchief.

“I like you, boy!” Packard boomed. At the same time, he swung round and glared at the small crowd that had regrouped. It promptly dispersed.

“A nice place you have here,” said Danny.

“Would you care for a guided tour?” our host responded with a broad leer that made me suspect an ulterior motive. My heart sank. But wasn’t this why we were here, to look around? I perked up as Packard took Danny’s arm and proceeded to lead him towards the handsome spiral staircase. I hesitated.  Had I been included in the invitation, I wondered?  My heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t happy about leaving Danny on his own with Packard.

I began to panic.

However, I needn’t have worried. The pair paused. Packard turned his head. The beady eyes sought me out, and a curt nod gestured for me to follow.  I did so, albeit shakily. As if having to contend with a heady mixture of relief and apprehension causing me to sweat buckets wasn’t enough, I badly needed to go for a pee.

As we climbed, I thought I heard a door opening and sensed someone looking down at us. Instinctively, I looked up and it was all I could do not to cry out. She looked different, older perhaps than I remembered. Yet, I was in no doubt as to the identity of the young woman waiting to greet us without a trace of welcome in her expression.

It was Teresa Karmali.

 To be continued on Friday