The Wild Heart (11 page)

     ‘ It’s not like that, Mrs. Laurence. Really it isn’t. Duncan’s death had more of an impact on me that you’ll ever know’.

     ‘ I expect you’re married now’.

     ‘ Yes’.

     ‘ Children?’

     ‘ Three’.

     ‘ Aye, well’ said Pat ‘ My Duncan would’ve made a great father. His sister has two girls. They keep me going’.

     ‘ I’ve never forgotten about Duncan, Mrs. Laurence. Can you find it in your heart to believe that?’

     Pat looked into Graham’s eyes and said ‘ Yes, son. I think I can. I’m sorry about before’.

     ‘ There’s no need to be. I understand. Can I give you a lift anywhere?’

     ‘ No thanks’ she said ‘ I’ll be here a while longer yet and besides, I have my own car’.

     ‘ Are you still in the same house on Craigavon Road?’

     ‘ Yes, we never moved’.    

     Ian pushed the team to their limits during the Sunday morning training session but it was less than a week to go before the deciding match of the season and everyone was feeling the tension. Even the owner of the club, local businessman and entrepreneur Mike
Ratcliffe, had come down to watch Ian put the team through their paces. They knew they could do it. They could smell victory but there was still that match to get through next Saturday.

     Mark was staying for the weekend and when Ian got back he had a shower and changed into a pair of light brown shorts and a short-sleeved white cotton shirt before they headed out for lunch. They got down to
Castlefield and found a pub by the canal. It was a hot day and the sun was blazing down. They sat outside, under the shadow of the viaduct that towered over the street, eating the special Sunday Roast lamb washed down with a bottle of Australian Shiraz. It was the perfect Sunday and after they’d finished their desserts of apple crumble and custard they strolled along the canalside, past all the old buildings that had been turned into swanky new flats, and before they knew it they were at the southern end of Manchester city centre. Mark stopped to pet a dog that had come up to him. The owners who were walking towards them called out that he wouldn’t bite and that he was just being friendly. 

     ‘ I’d love a dog’ said Mark as he watched the black and white border collie continue his adventure sniffing the cracks in the pavement.

     ‘ What kind would you go for? One like that?’

     ‘ Possibly’ said Mark ‘ I’d really like an Alsatian though. They look so proud’.

     ‘ Fierce more like’.

     ‘ Is my big man saying he’s scared of a little dog?’

     ‘ Little dog? They’re like wolves’

     ‘ So now I know why you wouldn’t go near that one we saw outside the pub’.

     ‘ Too right’ said Ian. ‘ I mean, wouldn’t you prefer a dog with a nicer temperament like, say, a Labrador?’ He’d had a Labrador back home. She was called Sandy and he’d never forget the look on her face that morning he left his parents house for the last time. 

     ‘ Only if it’s a black one. We could give it a really Irish name like … Guinness!’

     Ian laughed.‘ Guinness?’

     ‘ Yeah. Or what’s that other Irish beer? Murphy’.

     ‘ How about Bono and the Edge?’ Ian suggested. He’d always been a big U2 fan and had sung along to Sunday Bloody Sunday with the best of them.

     ‘ We’re going to have two then?’

     ‘ Why not? They’d be company for each other’.

     ‘ So when are we going to make these little additions to our family?’

     Ian turned and smiled enigmatically. ‘ Oh you know, one day’.

     They walked further up
Deansgate and Mark couldn’t resist a stop at Waterstones where he made a beeline for his favourite section, the crime thrillers. He had everything by Val McDermid and decided to buy his favourite one of hers for Ian. It was called ' A Place of Execution' and he didn’t see Ian flinch at the title when he gave it to him.

     They came out of
Waterstones and went into one of the bright coffee bars that had sprung up all over the city. They slumped themselves into two of the soft leather armchairs that were in the window and watched the world go by.

     ‘ I love
Deansgate’ said Mark ‘ I’ve been to London, been to Oxford Street and liked that too but Deansgate does it for me. I love Manchester. I don’t think I could live anywhere else. It isn’t just a mini version of London anymore. It’s a proud city in its own right and look at it. Sunday afternoons used to be dead when I was little and now they’re so vibrant and full of life’. He turned to Ian ‘ Hello? Anybody in?’

     Ian licked his spoon dry of
cappucino and looked into Mark’s eyes.  

     ‘ Will you move in with me, Mark?’

     Mark was stunned. ‘ I beg your pardon?’

     ‘ I just don’t want you to go home’.

     ‘ I wasn’t expecting you to ask me that’.

     ‘ You think it’s a bad idea, I’ve gone over the top and made myself look desperate, I’m a complete idiot and … ‘

     ‘ … no, no, no, hang on’ said Mark, touching Ian’s arm. ‘ I just wasn’t expecting you to ask me but yes, I will move in with you, Ian’.

     ‘ You will?’

     ‘ As soon as I’ve rented out the house’ said Mark ‘ Of course I’ll have to clear that with our Simon but he’ll be cool’.

     Ian smiled with relief that he hadn’t fucked things up with Mark. ‘ I told you I was unravelling and it’s been hard for me. I’m still unravelling but I don’t feel scared anymore. There’s a reason why’.

     ‘ And what is it?’

     ‘ You’ve given me the strength to let go of the past, Mark. It’s the past that you’re unravelling me from’.

     ‘ So is this the moment when you open up to me about your past?’

     Ian knew that Mark wasn’t stupid and that as time went on he’d be able to join up the dots for himself. He didn’t want to lie to Mark. He just didn’t want to tell him the whole truth yet. He couldn’t. He couldn’t give it all away yet.

     ‘ I’ll tell you about Kenny’ said Ian. He cleared his throat. ‘ Kenny was my first boyfriend back in Ireland. We got together when we were both sixteen and were together for two years. Neither of our families knew because being gay in Ulster back then was akin to being a terrorist, still is in certain communities. Anyway, it was a Saturday morning and Kenny wanted me to go into Belfast with him but I was knackered. I was an apprentice builder and only two weeks into the job and I wanted to stay in bed. Kenny was studying in the sixth form and had a place at Queens University in Belfast to read English. He was going to be a teacher and once he’d qualified we were going to move over here to the mainland and set up home together wherever Kenny could’ve got a job. I can take my trade anywhere and we knew that to up sticks and move was the only way that we could give ourselves a chance to be happy’.

     ‘ So what happened?’ Mark asked nervously.

     ‘ I told Kenny I’d see him later’ Ian went on. ‘ We’d planned to go to a pub that night that was gay friendly and where nobody asked any questions’. He swallowed hard. ‘ But I never saw him again because that was the day the IRA decided to bomb the main shopping street in Belfast. Kenny was in the actual shop where the bomb went off. They say he wouldn’t have known anything’.  

     Mark’s heart broke for Ian. ‘ Ian, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry’.

     ‘ It was a long time ago’ said Ian. ‘ But it’s kept a hold on my life ever since’.  

     ‘ And that’s why you couldn’t get involved with anyone’.

     ‘ I couldn’t let him go’ said Ian ‘ That is, not until now’.

     Natalie hadn’t been to the offices of the company where her father worked for years but it hadn’t changed much. It was still a two-storey square building from the seventies with the same high security wall all around it.

     ‘ Who is it you’re here to see?’ asked the guard at the gate.

     ‘ My father Richard Patterson’ Natalie answered ‘ He’s expecting me’.

     The guard, who was in his early fifties and had a build that made him look like he ate all his dinners, smiled as he looked her up and down like most men did. He should keep his filthy eyes to himself.

     ‘ Hello, Natalie’ said her father from his office door ‘ Come in, will you’. He stood back to let her through and said to his secretary ‘ No calls, Jane’.

     There was a large desk in Richard’s office but he led Natalie to the two lounge chairs where he held his more informal meetings. He sat down in one and Natalie took the other. She looked uncomfortable. She’d yet to look him in the eye. She was dressed up to the nines but she was his little girl and she looked so fragile and wanton.

     ‘ I’m so glad you came’ said Richard ‘ I wasn’t sure you would’.

     ‘ When you called I didn’t know what to do’ said Natalie ‘ I didn’t know if there was much point’.

     ‘ Natalie, I believe what you say about your Uncle Brian’.

     ‘ Have you always believed me?’

     ‘ Yes’ he said ‘ Yes, I have’.

     ‘ Then why didn’t you help me, Daddy?’

     She broke down and sobbed. It wasn’t loud, hysterical wailing. It was quieter and much more powerful than that and it broke her father’s heart. He threw his arms round her but she froze to his touch.

     ‘ Oh Natalie, Natalie. Can you ever forgive me?’

     ‘ Why didn’t you stick up for me at the time, Daddy?’

     ‘ I know I should’ve done, sweetheart. I know’.

     ‘ She wouldn’t let you, would she?’

     ‘ No’ he admitted ‘ No she wouldn’t’.

     ‘ Daddy, you’ve got to stand up to her. Look at me. I’m a bloody mess and it’s due to her and her precious brother’.

     ‘ And what about you, Natalie?’

     ‘ What about me?’

     ‘ When are you going to stand up to that boyfriend of yours?’

     ‘ I’m pregnant, Daddy’ Natalie announced.

     ‘ What?’

     ‘ I’m pregnant, Daddy. I’m going to have Shaun’s baby’.

     Ian switched on the radio in the van just in time to hear the local morning news.

    ‘ … P.C Stuart Wheeler who was attacked whilst on duty in the
Ordsall district of Salford last Monday night died of his injuries in hospital earlier today. He’d never recovered from the coma he’d been found in and police are now launching a hunt for his murderer …’

     He indicated and pulled over to sit for a minute and think. Something was telling him that Kevin
had something to do with this. He had no proof but he could sniff it in the air from a mile off. Kevin had gone AWOL the morning after a policeman was attacked just outside the yard where he’d been. The smell of shit rises far when it’s fresh.

     But how was Kevin involved? And why was Kevin involved? Trying to work that out was making him very nervous indeed.  

.    

CHAPTER NINE

The next day Ian was commanded to another meeting with Alice in a car park. This time it was down on the southern fringes of the city centre, in the shadow of the new Hilton hotel which to Alice looked like a giant credit card sticking up on its side. It dominated the city skyline and could be seen for miles around. She’d seen it in the distance when she was driving up the M6. It couldn’t be missed.

     ‘ Kevin Matheson murdered that policeman, didn’t he’ said Ian.

     ‘ Yes’ Alice confirmed. ‘ He’s been working for Derek Campbell’.

     Ian slammed the dashboard with his fist. ‘ Shit! I knew it. Does that mean Campbell knows who I am and where I am?’

     ‘ Yes to both’.

     ‘ Fuck’s sake!’

     ‘ Stay calm, Ian. You can’t start losing it now’.

     ‘ So how did Kevin get involved with Campbell?’

     ‘ When he’s in Northern Ireland he drinks at the same pub as Freddie Burnside. Kevin got in with him and ended up showing him pictures of his kids. You were on one of them and Freddie recognised you straight away. He leaned on Kevin, promising him a piece of the big time if he co-operated. You know this Kevin better than I do but he seems like a bit of a halfwit who allowed himself to be seduced by men who saw him coming’.

      ‘ Stupid fucking idiot!’

     ‘ Then Freddie told Derek as soon as he came out of prison and introduced him to Kevin who was already at work for him’.

     ‘ Does Kevin know about me?’

     ‘ He knows that you’re known as the Judas but he doesn’t know why’.

     ‘ And where is he now?’

     ‘ Hiding in a house provided by Burnside and Campbell’.