Looking for Trouble

CHAPTER FORTY TWO

They called it a graze. Christ, I hate that euphemism. They said the same thing when I had Maddie. If you weren’t actually torn limb from limb, it was just a graze. Unmitigated bloody agony, more like.

But even grazes heal with time.

Justice sure isn’t swift. It’s March now. The grape hyacinths are out, eight months have passed, winter’s come and gone and the trial still hasn’t started.

The police spent days interviewing us: Max, Martin and myself. Going over and over our story. They didn’t like what they were hearing. Harry got us a good solicitor. She was there all the time. Calm and clear. Making sure it was all above-board.

Bruce Sharrocks and DI Miller were remanded on bail. Eddie Kenton got sent down. They seized some of his video collection. He was shipping it as far as the Philippines, using Mackinlay’s business network. Mackinlay made himself scarce. Left the country. Probably chartered his own bloody plane. Some place where there’s no extradition treaty.

It made front page in the Evening News for a night: Charity Boss faces Murder Rap – Child Sex Ring Exposed. There was never a peep about Miller’s involvement. Funny, that.

They haven’t caught up with Leanne. Not yet. I hope they don’t. It’s not as if she’s a threat to society – more the other way around.

Martin’s still in a mess. They’ve got him in a special hostel. He gets counselling and help to sort himself out. I went there once, to take him the letter from Janice. I warned his worker first, had her standing by. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. The sound he made, when he realised what I was saying, still churns me up thinking about it. I left Mrs Williams’ number with them. I don’t know if Martin ever got in touch. I like to think he will one day. He could do with some of that love.

I’ve gone off Harry. He’s still a good friend, but the little frissons of lust have dried up. Back in September, Bev took me on one side and told me she’d some news. Divorce, separation? I pictured Harry moving into the top flat.

‘The reason I’ve been so edgy,’ Bev was saying.

I’d become a stepmother. Harry’s boys could visit every weekend…

‘I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby,’ she beamed at me.

I think that’s when I lost it.

And Clive? About three weeks after I’d issued the ultimatum, I surprised him and a woman friend loading his stuff into the back of a car. He introduced Gina. Her eyes sparkled with delight. I wondered whether to warn her but self-interest won out. He didn’t leave a forwarding address. We never saw a penny. Ray dropped a few dark hints – must be ways of finding out where he is…I didn’t rise to the bait.

The squat’s gone now. Part of the canal re-development. I went back when I was feeling up to it. I was hoping to rescue one of JB’s sketches. I was too late. There was nothing left. Just this big hole, piles of rubble and twisted metal being pushed around by bulldozers. I stood and watched.

One of the labourers noticed me, called across. ‘You looking for someone?’

‘No.’ I shook my head and smiled. Turned back towards Piccadilly. ‘No, not any more.’