Forever Is Over (58 page)

I ended up landing a job in a place called Andy
’
s Records, on a road
called Cheapside in Preston town centre. They were a reasonable sized
independent chain that had grown from a market stall in Cambridge
or Bury St Edmunds or somewhere equally far away to about twenty
branches in certain pockets of the United Kingdom, the North West
being one such area with branches in Bolton, Warrington, Southport
and Preston. Andy
’
s prided themselves on having CDs in their stores
that the major record retailers would no
t stock, so rather than having
the odd CD by the likes of Leonard Cohen, Bob Dylan, Al Stewart,
Billy Bragg and Jethro Tull, they had the whole back catalogue. I was
in my element as I was working with like minded music enthusiasts and
generally serving like minded music enthusiasts too. A female tramp
once took a crap in there, but that was a one-off not a daily hazard and
anyway, the assistant managed cleaned that up!

The only drawback other than pay that I can think of about working
at Andy
’
s Records was that you had to work near enough every Saturday.
I threw the odd Saturday sickie due to having an Everton season ticket,
but sometimes it worked well having a day off in the week. My urologists
appointments, for example, were arranged for a Thursday as that was
my regular day off.

In the whole scheme of things, the fact that I worked at Andy
’
s
Records in Preston whilst Kelly worked at Woolworth
’
s and continued
to work there after Kelly ran off
(my year sabbatical becoming a two year sabbatical!),would have no
great significance but for one thing. That thing being fate. When Jemma
was arrested and charged with her mother
’
s murder, where did the trial
take place? You guessed it, Preston Crown Court! Two hundred yards
from Andy
’
s Records!

It was Caroline who had broken the news to me that Jemma had
been arrested. She had heard on the Ormskirk grapevine, a form
of communication that at times could spread news faster than the
telephone. Initially, following her arrest, Jemma was taken into custody
at Ormskirk police station. It had been an early morning arrest that had
caught Jemma off guard. Apparently it had been her time of the month,
but because everything had happened so quickly, Jemma had forgotten
to take a change of tampon with her to the station. Perhaps she had
thought she would only be there a short time. Jemma had telephoned
her grandmother, who lives on the Wirral, broke the news of her arrest
and requested a number of toiletries from her house, including the
aforementioned tampons. Jemma
’
s grandmother did not have a key, as Jemma and Kelly had refused to give her one, so she went to the police station first, collected one from Jemma
’
s belongings and a policewoman
went across with her to the house.

As Jemma
’
s grandmother could not find the tampons, she popped
into Boots in Ormskirk to buy some. In Boots, she ran into Amy
’
s mother
who she had known for a number of years and whilst explaining to her
why a woman of her age was purchasing tampons, her conversation was
overheard by Janet Rimmer, who works as a Sales Assistant at Boots.

Janet ran into Petra Sawyer at lunchtime and told her. Petra worked at H.Samuel, as did my sister, Caroline! The word was out!

When I arrived home from Preston that night, Caroline was waiting for me, as soon as I walked in the porch.

“
Kelly
’
s sister
’
s been arrested!
”
she blurted out.

“
What?
”

“
Jemma Watkinson! She
’
s been arrested!
”

“
How do you know?
”

“
It
’
s all around Ormskirk! She
’
s been arrested for killing her Mum!
”

“
Who told you that?
”

“
Petra at work. She saw Janet Rimmer in Sayers at lunchtime and
Janet had heard Kelly
’
s Nan telling Amy
’
s Mum in Boots. She was
taking some tampons to Jemma in her cell at the police station.
”

I felt sick straight away. Physically sick. The world started spinning, I
felt dizzy and had to brush past Caroline, into the downstairs bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. It was July 3
rd
. I had a horrible feeling
Kelly may be heading back the following day, to meet me, on the
“
Sunny
Road
”
. If she found out that Jemma had been arrested, she would
confess to everything, I knew she would and that would mean Kelly
would be heading to jail too or at least some sort of juvenile correction
centre, where did under eighteens go? I had no idea.

“
Are you OK?
”
Caroline shouted
through from outside the door.

             
“
I
’
m fine, Cal! I
’
ll be out in a minute. I just felt a bit sick on my way
home. I
’
m OK though.
”

I came out the bathroom. Caroline wanted information from me. I
felt like an adulterous pop star being pursued by a tabloid j
ournalist.

             
“
Do you think Kelly knew?
”

“
Knew what Caroline?
”

“
That Jemma did it! That Jemma killed her Mum!
”

“
She
’
s been arrested, Caroline, not sentenced.
”

“
Yes, but the police must think she did it, that
’
s why she
’
s been
arrested.
”

“
Shut up Caroline! We don
’
t know what
’
s going on!
”

“
I do! Kelly always said Jemma hated their Mum. I reckon she killed her!
”

“
Caroline! I said shut up!
”

Caroline was annoying me now.

“
You
’
re a bit touchy, aren
’
t you? Why are you defending her anyway?
You
’
ve always hated Jemma Watkinson!
”

“
I don
’
t hate her. I actually think she
’
s OK.
”

Caroline did a double take.

“
Since when?
”

“
Since recently.
”

“
Well you
’
ve certainly changed your tune! You
’
ve always slagged
her off! I can remember several times when you
’
ve been telling me how
much you hated her! I can still remember the look on your face when
you saw her at Nick Birch
’
s party! It was a look of disgust!
”

“
I never used to like her, but now I know better. She
’
s OK.
”

“
For a murderer!
”
Caroline added for good measure.

“
She
’
s not a murderer, Caroline!
”

“
She might be.
”

“
She
’
s not a murderer.
”

I was in prison for five months before my trial. Five long months.

After twenty four hours at Ormskirk police station of intense questioning,
I was charged with Vomit Breath
’
s murder. My solicitor argued that the
police case was purely dependent on the statements they had taken
from our elderly next door neighbours, who claimed they had heard a
lot of the commotion in our adjoining house that night. I protested my
innocence, as I had every right to do, as I was innocent, but still felt like
a Hollywood actress, as my argument was that I was asleep throughout.
I feigned disbelief that I was being charged for a death that I slept
through. I was charged though and I was transferred to Risley Remand
Centre in Warrington.

What can I say about Risley? It was no five star hotel. The year
before I was there, a senior official in the prison service had allegedly
described it as
“
barbarous and squalid
”
and
“
dirty and dilapidated
”
.
He wasn
’
t wrong! Just weeks before I was sent there, there had been an
uprising by the men in
“
D
”
Wing. Fifty four men stayed on the roof for
three days to protest about conditions. There were over eight hundred
men in a facility built for five hundred. I obviously never visited the
men
’
s side of Risley, but I imagine the women
’
s side was on a par with
the men
’
s. I managed to get nits within days of being there and in my
five months awaiting trial, I was literally (to quote a
Billy Bragg song of the time,
“
Rotting on Remand
”
, as I lost two
stone in weight, as I thought the food was just about fit for pigs and
rats.

Only three people visited me during my time at Risley. Amy, bless
her cotton socks, came twice, but she was a middle class girl from a lovely
family and I think it was all a bit too much for her. Tut, who had always
been as tough as old boots, so could cope fine with Risley. She used to
come every week, sometimes even two or three times a week. Kelly and
I had not liked Tut when we were kids but she was undeniably a good,
strong woman and she was instrumental in sorting everything out for
me, including my solicitors, Cooper, Taylor and Brighouse. I don
’
t know
whether she thought I was innocent or not, but she certainly gave off
the impression that she thought it was a miscarriage of justice, if I was
jailed for killing Vomit Breath. My third visitor was Richie. I held out
no expectations of him visiting, although I was obviously attracted to
him, we hardly knew each other, so his visits were a massive boost. We
did get to know each other better during the six visits he made and the
more I got to
know him, the more I liked him.

Women, as a sex, tend
to say, we are attracted to a man
’
s sense of humour more than anything
else, but I don
’
t think my local thirty stone binman is inundated with
offers from skinny beauties just because he knows a few good jokes. As
a rule, we like looks, we like power, we like confidence and a sense of
humour is a bonus. Richie had the looks, he had no p
ower whatsoever
but he had a quiet confidence and a dry sense of humour, so three out
of four was pretty good. After all, I had been out with Ray and the only
one of those four he had really was power!

The first time Richie came in, he caused a major stir amongst all
the female population of Risley, even some of the lesbians said he was
so sexy he could turn them straight, as a one-off anyway!