Loss (32 page)

I must have let a minute pass before I spoke. ‘Why? . . . Why, Alice?’

She raised her voice, sobbing, heart-hurts to a tear. ‘I–I thought he was going to kill Vilem. I didn’t mean to, I–I just wanted it to stop . . . I didn’t mean to . . . I didn’t . . .’

The screwdriver slipped from my hand, landed softly in the snow. As I looked ahead, into the night, I felt as though I had been dropped into another world. Nothing seemed real. The falling snow. The dark sky. A niece I no longer recognised, offering another bale of grief to add to my heavily burdened back. How? Why? Did any of these questions matter now? My world had ended. I wanted no more part in this life of men. I felt my knees give; my calves twitched in anticipation of a fall . . . and then, sirens wailed. I looked out to the road and saw the blue lights flashing. Police cars roared over the flattened gate into the field.

I looked at Alice curled on the ground and something sparked in me. ‘Get up!’ I ran over to her, yanked her to her feet. She felt so light – there was no weight in her – as I bundled her into the truck.

She cried, ‘What’s going to happen?’

‘Nothing . . . Nothing’s going to happen.’

I tried to turn the ignition but the truck wouldn’t start.

Alice screamed, ‘They’re coming, they’re coming for me!’

The engine suddenly purred to life and I floored it. The wheels spun wildly as the truck jumped into gear. ‘They’re not fucking having you.’ I made it to the edge of the field. The police cars flashed in front of the truck but I swerved round them. ‘Get out the fucking way!’ I yelled. I lined up the gate, but a Range Rover skidded in, blocked the way. I braked heavily and the truck fired into the side of the dyke.

Uniforms swarmed on us. Where did they come from? Who tipped them off? They were mob-handed for sure. Not messing about. I got out, balled fists. I still had a barrel of adrenaline racing through me, was ready to go. As I swung out, I felt a good crack connect, went again. ‘Fucking leave her . . .
Leave her
.’

I took down another flatfoot but got grabbed this time, held back, as they piled onto me. Four, five burly filth. My arms were pinned behind me as I was forced face-first into the cold snow. I saw Alice hauled from the truck; my thoughts stilled. I knew it was over but managed a lame ‘No . . . don’t take her.’

Plod reversed the Range Rover and took Alice to a police car. Her eyes darted left to right in quick time. I followed her every anguished movement, desperate for her to be left alone, left in peace. She’d been through enough. But then I could watch no more. It was all too painful. I knew how this ended now, and it crushed me. As I turned away another car arrived, a burgundy Lexus. The doors slowly opened and Fitz emerged. Mac hobbled behind him.

‘Let him go, for fucksake,’ said Fitz.

My heart still pumped wildly as the uniforms released me. I’d been held so tightly my arms were numb, but I was ready to go again. I jumped up, spat out a mouthful of snow. I looked at Mac. ‘You told them where I was?’

Fitz spoke for him: ‘I pulled him in, Gus . . . Didn’t give him a choice.’

Mac shrugged; his brows creased, his eyes were pleading with me. ‘They know it was her,’ he sighed out slowly. His hand came up to his mouth as he spoke – it looked as if he didn’t want to utter the words. ‘They took her dabs off the gun.’

Fitz rolled on the balls of his feet, put up his collar. He frowned as he spoke – he sounded harsher than Mac – ‘Radek spilled his guts: he was blackmailing Davie with the gun.’

My despair blackened. I felt my mouth widen. I tried for speech but it was beyond me. I didn’t feel human any more.

Fitz spoke again: ‘Davie was holding out to protect Alice, thought he was doing best by her.’

The feeling started to return to my hands, but the numbness seemed to have moved to my mind. I wanted to batter fists on my head, try to get some thoughts flowing. ‘Davie Prentice . . .’

Mac came round to my side, sighed. He placed a hand on my back. ‘Gus, they hauled in the Undertaker . . . fat Davie too.’

I felt as though I’d been hollowed out with a pickaxe; I didn’t want to hear any more. I lost balance and leaned on the side of the truck. I saw the uniforms untying Vilem, said, ‘What’ll you do with Alice?’ Soon as I said it the question seemed stupid; I knew the answer already.

Fitz frowned, tried to steady me with a hand on my arm. I jerked it away. ‘Gus, let me get you home.’

I turned to the road. Alice sat in the back of a police car now. Her hands had been cuffed behind her back. She looked so young it struck my heart. I felt my throat tighten as she stared at me, pleading for help. She widened her eyes and for a second we shared a locked glance of utter terror. As the police car took her away I stared into the blackness of the empty street and remembered holding an infant in a hospital ward many years ago.

‘Gus . . . Gus . . . Let me take you home to Debs,’ said Fitz.

I put eyes on him. ‘She won’t be there.’

I took my coat from the truck, started to walk towards the black road. I felt the quarter-bottle of Grouse in my pocket, took it out and unscrewed the cap. The first burn of it reached like a flame down my throat. The next hit went straight to my gut and made room for more. I turned up the bottle’s neck and drained the lot in one smooth belt.

An old song sung in my head; I had a taste for more.

Fitz yelled as I went, ‘Come on, Gus, you’re in the middle of nowhere.’

I walked on, said, ‘Don’t I know it.’