Blood Tracks (28 page)

Gina and Declan slumped against the wall in stony silence, watching the cars and ambulance pull away.

“Go on, I’m waiting,” she said ominously.

Declan cleared his throat nervously. “Okay, but before I begin I just need to remind you that I have been beaten up already today, so go easy on me.”

“Shut up! Just tell me what you’ve been playing at.”

“Right, here it is.” He swallowed hard. “The other month I was caught nicking lead off a church roof.”

“Charming,” Gina said curtly.

“The place was derelict. It was about to be stripped and bulldozed anyway,” he protested. “It was me and a couple of mates, thought we could make some easy money. I was sick of having no job, no cash. Anyway, my mates were down below and they legged it when they saw the security guard but I was left stuck up on the roof, with no way to escape. I ended up down the cop shop. I was booked in, fingerprinted, locked in a cell for hours – it stank; I was freezing and hungry.”

“My heart bleeds for you.”

“Okay…I don’t deserve any sympathy. But after a couple of hours I was taken to one of the interview rooms and this scruffy, wild-looking fella comes in, no uniform. I’ve never seen anyone who looked less like a cop. Anyway, he sits down at the table, doesn’t turn the tape on. I asked for the duty solicitor and he just said, ‘All in good time, lad. We haven’t started official business yet. This is just an informal little chat.’

“So, then he says that he doesn’t usually deal with this kind of case but that he’s taking a special interest in me because he’s been informed that I used to go to Rylands High. I told him that I left last summer. Then he mentions your name. Says you’re a pupil there, wants to know if I know you, especially as we live in the same neighbourhood. Well, I told him that I only knew
of
you, used to see you around the school, heard about your dad killing himself.

“Then he asks if I knew a bloke called Tom Cotter. I’d never heard of him. So he sits, staring at me, stroking his stubbly chin; he was freaking me out. ‘You know,’ he said eventually, ‘I think you’re going to get a custodial for this. Caught red-handed.’

“I panicked. It was my first offence. I’d never been in trouble before. Anyway, he tells me that magistrates are coming down hard on lead strippers, wanting to make an example of them. ‘This lead theft business has become an epidemic,’ he says. ‘The magistrates are upset about it, especially when it’s nicked from a place of worship.’

“‘The church was going to be demolished!’ I said.

“‘It was still God’s house.’ He gave a phlegmy chuckle, amused with himself.

“Then he starts asking me all about my family. When he finds out that they’re in Ireland and I’m here on my own, he seems pleased. He was really getting to me, putting on a pathetic Irish accent, saying ‘What would your mammy and daddy think about their lovely Catholic boy nicking from a church?’

“I told him to get lost. I told him that I wanted to be interviewed by someone else, but he just carried on, saying, ‘Listen, Declan. I’d hate to see you locked up in a young offenders’ institute. You’d be mixing with some nasty pieces of work – violent, disturbed, drug-addled. They’d stab you with the cutlery if it wasn’t made of plastic. You’d come out a different lad…ruined. You know what I mean, don’t you?’ He was being sadistic.

“I was trying to look like I didn’t care but I felt like I was going to burst out crying. He stood up and leaned over the table, his cigarette breath in my face, saying, ‘Don’t worry, Declan. I think that we might be able to help each other out of this mess. Let’s put you back in the cells for a while and I’ll make a few phone calls.’

“He left me in the cells for hours with nothing to think about but how I’d survive being locked up with a bunch of psychos and the shame on my family of having a son in the nick; all my job prospects gone before I’d even earned my first wages. By the time I was taken back to the interview room I was a wreck. So when he breezes in, telling me it’s my lucky day, he’s got an offer for me that I shouldn’t refuse, I was so grateful I would have agreed to anything. He told me the terms – he wanted me to keep an eye on Cotter. He said that Cotter was friendly with your family, had been your dad’s boss. The plan was for me to get in with you, get as much info out of you as possible about Cotter and use you to try and get a job at the warehouse.”

The blood leached from Gina’s face. “So that day when you saw me on the bridge – was that a coincidence?” she asked in trepidation. “You said that you’d been at a mate’s house on the next road?”

Declan cringed. “I followed you from your house. I’d been keeping an eye on you, working out your daily routines; you’ve got time to do that kind of thing when you’re unemployed. I was waiting for a good chance to accidentally bump into you. So when I saw you limbering up for a run that day I thought that I could just run after you and pretend I was jogging too, but once you got into your stride you were so fast that I almost lost you when you turned off the canal. I stood at the end of the street catching my breath and watching you. I nearly died when I saw you climb up on that bridge. I thought you were going to jump. I really did come over to help you.”

Tears of anger and humiliation welled up in Gina’s eyes. “So, all the time we’ve spent together! All the attention you’ve given me! Oh my God…that night in the warehouse!” Her hands flew up to hide her face. “No wonder you didn’t want to kiss me. That was beyond the call of duty, wasn’t it? I’m sure it was bad enough for you, having to pretend you liked me, without having to actually have physical contact with me.”

“It
has
been terrible, Gina, because I like you, and I mean I
really
,
really
like you. I was dying to kiss you that night, but I couldn’t. It wouldn’t have been right. I felt a complete shit.”

“That’s because you
are
a complete shit,” she hissed at him. “Have you been having a good laugh about me with your ‘Uncle Stevie’? And have you told him how you got into my family’s good books. Coaching Danny, being Mr. Nice guy with my mum?”

“No, it wasn’t like that. Danny’s a great kid. I want to help him with his footy. And your mum, she’s so nice. Please, Gina, I love being with you and even if I wasn’t being forced to do this, even if I wasn’t being paid, I’d still want to be with you.”

Gina’s eyes widened, her nostrils flared. “You were getting paid?”

Declan grimaced. “That sounds bad, doesn’t it? But really, I would have been daft not to take the money. It’s completely legit. ‘Covert Human Surveillance Operatives’, that’s what the police call them; they pay you! It’s like a proper job, isn’t it?” he said in desperation. “Stevie said that they wouldn’t press charges if I helped him. I’d be let off, but even then I didn’t say yes straight away. I stalled, said I needed time to think. I hated the idea of spying on people…being his informant. He gave me until midnight that night. If I refused to help him or he didn’t hear from me, he’d make sure I was charged and that it went to court.” Declan put his hands together as if in prayer. “Please believe me, Gina. I didn’t want to do it, but what else could I do?”

She didn’t speak. He couldn’t read her face. An unnerving calm seemed to have descended on her. He flinched as she turned towards him, but she put her arms out, as if to embrace him.

He gave a nervous smile as she held his shoulders. She pulled him towards her, whispering in his ear, making the hairs on the back of his neck tingle. “Thanks for your help today.”

His aching face cracked into a relieved smile.

She understands! She forgives me! God, that wasn’t so bad.

“I never want to see you again,” she continued in the same low tone. “You don’t call me, text me, you don’t even get to walk down my street. Do you understand?”

The smile dropped from his face. “Gina, don’t say that. Give me a chance,
please
.”

“No,” she said with conviction. She hauled herself up and walked away from him, her head held high.

Gina, Kylie, Danny and her mum stood, arms linked, surveying the allotment. The sun shone on the transformed plot of land. Months of back-breaking work, tilling tons of topsoil, had turned the barren earth into fertile ground.

Now, fragrant sweet peas climbed up garden canes. Blooms of bright dahlias swayed in the warm breeze. Patches of wild strawberries ripened under green netting and the first shoots of carrots had broken through the soil. In the far corner stood a large pitch-roofed shed, its flower-filled window boxes lending it the air of a countryside retreat.

“This is all down to Declan,” her mum said. “He’s worked so hard. He even insisted on paying for the shed.”

“Well, I’m sure he could afford it with all the money he got for
spying
on us,” scowled Gina.

“Gina, you should have come to help. Me and Declan have had a right laugh working on the allotment,” Danny said.

“No thanks, I’m not going anywhere near that boy.”

“Oh, come on, Gina,” Kylie pouted. “Declan has been like a lost puppy. He’s pining for you, babe. And you’re just making yourself miserable without him.”

“Yeah, give him a break!” Danny lectured.

“You all seem to have forgotten that he was spying on us, conning us,” Gina said indignantly.

Her mum shook her head. “He was spying on
Tom
, not us, and if anything we should be grateful to him.”

“Grateful?” Gina protested.

“Yes. Listen, Gina, you know how sorry I am for not believing you. You were always right about your dad, and you didn’t give up until you got to the truth, but Declan helped you. Without each other you wouldn’t have found out what Tom Cotter was really like, what he did.” Her mum’s face went ashen. “I was so taken in by him.”

Kylie put her arm around her. “Come on now, Clare. He fooled everyone. Don’t think about him. He’s where he belongs. Banged up for years, frightened of his own shadow. I even heard that he’s asked to be put in isolation for his own protection.”

Gina squeezed her mum too. “Kylie’s right. This is Dad’s day. He would have loved to see the allotment like this. I can’t think of a better place to say a proper goodbye to him.”

The allotment gate creaked open and Gina’s jaw dropped as Declan entered, looking decidedly sheepish.

“What are
you
doing here?” Gina hissed.

“I invited him,” her mother said. “This silliness between you two has gone on long enough. I know Declan is sorry for how he did things but, as I said, we should be grateful to him and that’s why I want him here today.”

Gina’s eyes threw daggers at him as he stood a safe distance from her.

Her mum opened the lid of the grey marble urn and walked slowly along the row of people, shaking a handful of ashes into cupped hands.

Each of them strolled to different areas of the allotment and stood for a moment, wrapped up in their thoughts of Martin Wilson, before they scattered the ashes onto the earth. Gina looked out over the sun-bathed docks with a melancholic smile. “I really hope that heaven looks like Trinidad, Dad.” She let the ashes run through her fingers.

Gina saw her mum wipe away tears and put a smile on her face before saying, “Danny, Kylie. Come on, let’s go back to the house.”

Gina started to follow, but her mum turned to her.

“No, Gina. You’re not leaving this allotment until you’ve spoken to Declan.”

“But, Mum!”

Her mum ignored her protests and walked away.

Declan was standing like a lamb who’d been left in a field with a wolf.

“How have you been?” he asked nervously.

She stared past him but he continued regardless.

“Hey, are your exams nearly over now? Your mum told me that they were going well. Are you going to stay on for sixth form? You should, you’re clever enough – not like me.”

“You’re clever enough, you’re just too lazy.” She scowled.

His big brown eyes widened, delighted that she’d spoken to him.

“You’ve never replied to any of my texts,” he said.

“Of course I haven’t. I should have got an injunction out on you. Calling me, texting me, writing me letters. I told you not to – it’s harassment.”

“Did you read the letter?” he asked hopefully.

“No, I threw it in the bin,” she replied coldly.

Declan looked crestfallen. “Oh, well if you’d read it, Gina, you’d know how sorry I am. You’d know how I feel about you.”

“Yeah well, sending Mrs. Mac and Bridie round was a bit desperate, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t send them round!” he protested.

“Come off it. It was like the Spanish Inquisition. Mrs. Mac in our kitchen, saying, ‘I don’t know what tiff you two have had but he’s in a terrible state. He’s off his food – he hasn’t touched any of my stews.’ And then Bridie going on, ‘Do you want to talk about it, Gina? You know that I’m a woman of the world.’”

Declan couldn’t help laughing. “I’m sorry about that, but you know I can’t control those ladies. Anyway, my mum wants me over in Ireland.”

“Are you going?” A flicker of panic crossed her face.

“No, I’ve told her I’ve got a job here.”

“Oh really, who are you spying on this time?” she said, arms crossed.

“No one. Mr. O’Rourke still had an opening at the funeral parlour. I’ve been carrying coffins for the last few months.”

“Wow, you must
really
not want to go to Ireland.”

“No, I just
really
want to stay here…with you,” he answered.

Her mouth opened and shut but no words came out.

“Listen, Gina,” he continued earnestly, “what if you pretend that we’d never met before. We could start all over again – properly this time.” He extended his hand to her and she eyed it suspiciously.

“Go on, take it,” he coaxed.

She tried hard to maintain her most withering expression. “This is stupid,” she said, putting a limp hand in his.

He squeezed her hand gently, saying, “Hi, I’m Declan Doyle. I shower every day, I’m kind to my mammy and I’ve a job for life at the funeral parlour because, as Mrs. Mac so rightly says, ‘There’s always going to be a good supply of customers.’” He mimicked his landlady perfectly. “So, Gina Wilson, would you do me the honour of coming out with me tomorrow for a pizza?”

“Sorry, I’m washing my hair tomorrow.”

“Well, how about the day after?”

“Can’t, I’m cutting my toenails.”

“Well, have you got any night free over the next year, because I’ll wait. I’m a very patient person.”

Her eyes danced mischievously. “Actually, I might have a free night.”

Declan’s face lit up. “Great! When?”

“When hell freezes over,” she proclaimed with relish.

“You’re just cruel, Gina Wilson,” he said, employing his best puppy-dog eyes.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You deserve it.”

“Declan!” Danny bounded through the allotment gate. “Mum says have you two made up yet? She wants you both to come back to the house and have some food.”

Declan hesitated, looking at Gina. “I’m sorry, Danny, I don’t think I should. Gina doesn’t want me around.”

Danny grabbed his arm and started to drag him out of the allotment, shouting, “Of course she does. She’s read that stupid letter you sent her about a hundred times. She keeps it under her pillow – I’ve seen it – it nearly made me throw up!” He screwed up his face in disgust.

Gina started flapping. “Danny! That’s private. Don’t you dare go through my stuff!”

Declan stopped in his tracks, an elated grin spreading across his face. He trudged back to Gina, dragging Danny behind him.

She rolled her eyes, her lips twitching with a suppressed smile.

“Don’t look so smug, Declan Doyle.”

“This face isn’t smug,” he said innocently. “But does this mean you’ve forgiven me?”

“Of course I haven’t.” She grinned.

He leaned towards her so that they were nose to nose. “Would it be okay if I kiss you?” he said with trepidation.

“No! It would be horrible,” she answered, putting her arms around his neck and sealing her lips on his.

“Gross! Do you two have to?” Danny protested, attempting to pull the couple apart. But his efforts were futile.