Guns Of Brixton (24 page)

    '
Didn't you?' John Jenner said again to Mark. 'Didn't you?'

    'What?'
said Mark, suddenly jolted out of his reverie.

    'Fancy
her. That Linda Pierce. And she nearly screwed you up for life.'

    Fancied
her. Mark had loved her since that first time he'd seen her, and now, all these
years later, it seemed that John Jenner knew something of her whereabouts. And
as for the other, well that had always been his •business. He tried to keep the
tension out of his voice when he spoke. 'You know where she is?' he asked.

    'Course
I do. I've kept up with all of them. I told you that.'

    'So?
Tell me.'

    'Why
are you so interested?'

    'I
just am. Where are they?'

    'Marje
and Tom are both dead. You know, the bloke she married.'

    Mark
nodded.

    'Little
Linda got married, but her husband was killed in an accident.' Mark gave him a
look. 'Oh don't be silly. I had nothing to do with it.'

    Mark
said nothing.

    'She
had a couple of kids. Luke and Daisy. And Sean moved in with her after the
accident. She's got a nice place in Croydon again as a matter of fact. She
didn't move far.'

    'What's
the address?'

    'Mark.'

    'What's
the address, Uncle?'

    'You're
not going to…'

    'I just
want to see her,' Mark lied. 'I won't speak to her.'

    John
Jenner shook his head. 'OK, son. On your own head be it. But you remember what
happened last time.'

    'I
was just a kid. So was she.'

    Jenner
gave him the address.

    'Fine.
I'm going out.'

    'Christ,
but I wish that bastard hadn't turned up this morning,' said Jenner, also
wishing he'd kept his big mouth shut about it.

    'But
he did,' said Mark, and with that he went out to his car. He sat inside for a
few minutes trying to calm the shaking in his arms and legs. Linda, he thought.
Christ. I never thought I'd see you again.

    He
started the car, opened the gates and headed towards Croydon. Black clouds,
like broken promises, loomed up before him as he drove. The road through Norbury
and Thornton Heath had changed too in his absence, but he could have found his
way there blindfold, so vivid were his memories.

    He
found the address John Jenner had given him without any trouble. It was a move
up in the world from Tom Pierce's old place, in one of Croydon's smarter
suburbs, a detached house with garage extension, with what looked like a tiny
flat over it. He parked on the opposite side of the street and got out of the
car and took a slow stroll, his eyes never off the building.

    Parked
on the short drive was a red Toyota Land Cruiser on a four year old plate. It
was still in good nick, its paintwork gleaming. The thunderheads brought
squally rain, and Mark pulled up the collar of his overcoat as he walked. Just
like May 14th, he thought. Me getting soaking wet waiting for Linda to show up.

    He
went back to the car and sat inside. Around three-thirty a procession of
vehicles, mostly big four wheel drives like the Toyota, came down the street.
It was the home from school run. He watched as a Fiat saloon pulled into the
drive of Linda's house and a young blonde got out and unloaded a small boy in a
red school sweatshirt, jeans and trainers. 'Luke,' said Mark to himself. The
boy was dark haired and lively and ran to the front door which was opened by a
dark haired woman. Mark was too far away to see the boy's face, but he knew
he'd be the spit of his mother. It was something in the way he moved, and Mark
felt a stab of jealousy that the boy wasn't his son. He peered through his rain
-speckled windscreen and his heart turned over. It was Linda in the doorway.
The boy jumped up at her and she swung him indoors and out of sight. The
blonde, presumably a nanny or
au pair
or babyminder or whatever they
called them these days, collected a kitbag from the car, followed the boy
through the front door and closed it behind her.

    Mark
had seen enough. With all the kids about he felt even more out of place, like
some kind of peeper, so he started the engine and drove home.

    'Satisfied?'
asked John Jenner when he'd arrived and slumped into an armchair. 'I assume
you've seen her.'

    'Yes,
I saw her. And I'm going to see her again.'

    The
older man said nothing. Just walked out of the room and slammed the door behind
him.

    Mark sat
where Jenner had left him, and his mind travelled back through the years.

    That
first winter he and Linda were together, they spent as much time in each
other's company as possible. Around Crystal Palace and Anerley were a number of
cheap hotels and motels, mostly used by reps and businessmen staying in London
on a budget. Not that, money was a problem to Mark, there was plenty of that
available, but those hotels were convenient, and love didn't worry about its
surroundings as long as they were clean and had a bed. So, whenever they could,
they sneaked away for stolen hours of passion. But Mark knew, however wonderful
the sex was and however much they pledged themselves to each other, he was
living a lie. Eventually, it all got too much for him. He decided to tell Linda
the truth.

    He
broke the news in a hotel room on Upper Sydenham Road. They'd made love all
afternoon. Their affair was still new and they were both young. Mark, barely
twenty, and Linda sixteen. The radio was on, playing something by Billy Idol.
He'd never forget that, and he was sitting on the window ledge with a panorama
that took in most of London behind him. Great views up there on the lip of
London. Not that they had much time for looking out of the window in those
days. Linda was sitting half on and half in the double bed they'd rented, her
breasts bare and the sheet just about covering her legs. She lit a cigarette
and Mark did the same, then said: 'You don't know who I am, do you?'

    'Sorry?'
said Linda.

    'You
don't know who I am,' he repeated.

    'Course
I do. You're Mark Farrow. Is this a joke?'

    'Mark
Farrow,' he said. 'Doesn't that ring any bells?'

    She
shook her head and he could see the bewilderment on her face.

    'Billy
Farrow,' he said. 'How about that?'

    Nothing.

    'Who
are you then?' he asked.

    'Mark,
I don't like this.'

    'Tell
him your name,' he said.

    'Linda
Pierce. You know that. Don't, you're frightening me.'

    Mark knew
that he'd taken the wrong tack, but it was too late to turn back. 'No, you're
not,' he said. 'You're Linda Hunter.'

    Bewilderment
was replaced by something else. A hint of awareness. Mark could see the
emotions wash over her face, like the sea smoothing over a beach. 'What do you
mean?' she asked.

    'That's
who you used to be before your mum got married again, isn't it?'

    She
nodded, and tears came to her eyes as she realised what he was saying.

    'Billy
Farrow was my dad,' said Mark, moving towards the bed. But Linda wouldn't let
him touch her.

    'And
my father…' She couldn't finish the sentence.

    Mark
nodded. 'He killed him.'

    'And
you knew?'

    'I
always knew.'

    'But
why? Why come looking for me?'

    'I
wanted to see what you and Sean looked like.'

    'Why?'

    'Because…
I don't know. I was curious. Then I saw you and fell in love with you.'

    'In
the park that day.'

    Mark
shook his head. 'No, before that. I came to your house. You never saw me.'

    'And
all this…' Her gesture took in the room, their affair, them. 'I couldn't help
it. I had to tell you.' 'You lied to me.'

    'I
know, and I couldn't go on lying. I had to tell you the truth.' 'But how did
you find me?'

    'My
Uncle John knew both our fathers. The things he does…'. 'Being a gangster, you
mean.' Linda was far from stupid and had long ago worked out what Mark and his
family did for a living. 'That's right. But it's just a job.'

    'You
bastard.' Linda stubbed out her cigarette, scrambled off the bed and started to
get dressed.

    Mark
sat where she left him and tried not to watch. 'Don't go,' he said. 'I couldn't
help it.'

    'All
this was just lies,' she sobbed. 'All lies.' 'No,' he protested. 'No. I love
you, Linda.'

    She
stopped getting dressed, and stood in her underwear on the thin carpet. 'But
you never told me.'

    'I
just did. I couldn't live like this any more.' 'Like what?'

    'Living
a lie. I should've told you from the start, but you'd never have spoken to me.
It was hard enough as it was.'

    Linda
slipped her dress over her head. 'I don't know, Mark,' she said. 'I don't know
if I can handle this.'

    He
got to his feet and went to her, but she stiffened at his touch. 'Don't,' she
said. 'Get me a cab, I want to go home.'

    Mark
knew better than to force it, so he picked up the phone and asked the
receptionist to call a taxi.

    Linda
left him in the room, and he stood at the window as the cab arrived and Linda
got in the back.

    It was
going to be some time before he heard from her again.

    The
morning after John Jenner had spilled the beans about Linda, Mark was up and
about early. Even before Chas. He didn't bother with breakfast and left the
house before seven. He stopped at a cafe in Norwood and bought a tea to go,
which he drank as he drove down to Croydon. By eight o'clock he was parked in
the same spot as the previous afternoon.

    The
house looked exactly the same, with the addition of a Ford Mondeo parked up
next to the garage. There was no sign of the Toyota or the Fiat. Inside the
garage, Mark assumed. But who did the Ford belong to? Mark hoped it wasn't some
boyfriend of Linda's on an overnighter.

    Just
before nine the garage doors opened and the Fiat came out, driven by the nanny
or whatever. The Toyota was inside and she didn't close the door, which
probably meant that Linda was going to be coming out too. The nanny pulled the
car round to the front door, which opened, and he saw Linda and the boy, Luke,
standing in the doorway. He was dressed in cargo pants, trainers, the red
school sweatshirt and a big jacket. Linda was in her dressing gown. Luke was
carrying a lunch box, and Linda kissed him before he ran to the nanny's car,
jumped into the front seat, belted up, and off they went. Linda closed the
front door and all was quiet.

    Next
out was Sean Pierce, who Mark recognised from his visit to Jenner's house the
day before. He came down the stairs on the outside of the garage from the flat,
got into the Ford, let it warm up a minute and then drove off too. So that
answered that question: John had said the brother was also living in the house.
Mark had drawn back into his seat as he watched Sean leave for work. Unlike on
TV, people did notice strange men sitting in strange cars in suburban streets.
And they did phone the cops. And Pierce, being a cop himself, was more likely
than most to be suspicious. Mark didn't look at him directly, just out of the
corner of his eye, until the car had gone.

    Nothing
much happened for another hour. People came and went in the street, and Mark
tried hard to look like he belonged.

    Just
before ten, there was more movement at the house. Linda entered the garage from
the inside door, carrying a baby all swaddled up in a one piece, pink romper
suit. Daisy. Linda was dressed in jeans and a leather jacket and Mark was
pleased to notice she hadn't lost her figure during her pregnancies. She opened
the back door of the Land Cruiser and strapped Daisy into the child seat in the
back. She put a carryall next to her, got in the front, started the motor and
drove on to the drive. She shut the garage door using a remote and headed off.
Mark gave her a moment, then followed.