‘So, she went from starting a new life to... what? Being stood up?’
‘That’s what we assumed,’ Fran said as she put the kettle on. ‘I can’t go an hour without a cuppa. You sure you don’t want one?’
‘No thanks.’
Jack sat down and fell quiet while Fran pottered. Who on earth could have called Trudie if it wasn’t Jimmy? Who was the man she was so happy to be running away with? And who had hurt her so cruelly by abandoning her and her baby?
‘What was the date, Aunt Fran, can you remember?’
‘Oh, good God, no. Sorry, love. It was so long ago. And it was just a normal morning really. She was sat right there, where you are now, drinking tea and reading the paper. Something snapped. One minute she was OK — I mean she was upset but OK — the next minute she was out the door. I wish I could tell you more, Jack, I really do.’
Jack’s mobile buzzed in his trouser pocket. He checked it in case it was Maggie wondering where he was. It was Ridley. He watched the call go to voicemail. On his screen he had three messages: ‘missed call’, ‘new voicemail’ and ‘breaking news’ relating to some natural disaster across the other side of the world. But it prompted him to ask a question.
‘What newspaper was she reading?’
Burnham-on-Sea Library was far bigger than Jack had expected it to be and even had a research section, including newspaper archives, which was exactly what he needed. He scrolled through old copies of the Daily Mail, the newspaper Fran had said Trudie was reading on the morning she left. Although Jack didn’t know the exact date, he knew the approximate time of year because he was only with Fran and Clay for ten months before he went into foster care; he knew the date he went into foster care because that information was on the paperwork he’d been given by Charlie.
Jack started by scrolling through the headlines, day by day, from July 1984 onwards. When he got to 12 August 1984, the four-word headline stopped him dead. He read it again and again to make absolutely certain of what he was seeing. It was a good twenty seconds before he realised that he was holding his breath. As he started to breathe again, he read the four words one last time: HARRY RAWLINS SHOT DEAD. Was this what had upset Trudie so much? Was Harry Rawlins the man who Trudie had gone to meet, and who hadn’t shown up because he was already dead?
As Jack read the words over and over, he recalled everything he knew about Harry Rawlins. Rawlins was the one who always got away, the one who revelled in ruining Resnick’s career; he was smart, controlled and controlling, fearless and ruthless — and he was the only man the Fisher brothers had ever feared. Was Harry Rawlins the man his mum loved? Jack recalled Foxy’s text about Jimmy Nunn:
No DNA match.
Was Harry Rawlins Jack’s dad?
Chapter 25
Jack’s detour to the library meant that he didn’t get back to Maggie until well after lunch. As he pulled into the driveway, he could see that boxes were now stacked higher than the living room windowsill. In the kitchen, most of the pastries had gone. Jack didn’t know what he felt more strongly — guilt or hunger. He was nibbling on a cinnamon swirl when Maggie came into the kitchen carrying a box labelled ‘Penny’s knick-knacks’.
‘Everywhere’s done apart from the stuff we’re still using in here. I’ve taken the bed and wardrobe apart in their room and the bed in your room. I can’t see how your wardrobe comes apart. Did you put it together? I think it’s glued. I’ve still got to box up the bathroom cabinets and I’ve left the shed for you ’cos there’ll be stuff in there that’s too heavy for me. Put the kettle on and I’ll finish the bathroom.’
Maggie put the box down, picked up a smaller empty box and disappeared towards the bathroom. She sounded like nothing was wrong, but Jack knew that this was worse than if she’d been shouting at him.
The drive home was excruciating. Queen were playing again, just loud enough to stifle conversation. Jack knew that staying quiet was making things worse but he didn’t know what to say — certainly not, ‘My dad’s not Jimmy Nunn after all, Mags. In fact he might turn out to be Harry Rawlins. You know, that notorious old-school gangster?’
He had to have absolute proof before he shared his news with Maggie.
Maggie dropped him off outside the police station, not bothering even to pause the music for a loving ‘goodbye’. As he got out, Jack turned back to say how sorry he was for leaving her alone all morning with no explanation and no car, but before he could open his mouth, she’d driven off.
Meet me outside the garages.
When Laura got Jack’s text message her heart did an involuntary little flutter and her face flushed. Once she’d actually had a second to think, she realised it was probably work-related, probably something Jack wanted kept from Ridley. She was right.
The coach seats had now all been smuggled back inside the coach, and no one would ever know that the value of this second-hand vehicle had just increased from £3,700 to around £25,003,700.
Angela was very proud of all the wine-fuelled hard work they’d put in.
‘I can feel it,’ Ester complained as she bounced up and down on her seat.
‘No one’s going to be bouncing that violently,’ Angela pointed out. She was having none of it. ‘Perhaps the lumps you can feel is the cellulite in your arse.’
‘Talking of cellulite,’ Ester continued, ‘I hear Connie’s put on a pound or two. Where is the old slapper?’
‘Connie’s sorting out her B & B. She’ll be back the day after tomorrow.’ Angela changed the subject. ‘Where are you staying, Ester? You’ve not used your own name, have you?’
‘You don’t have to worry about anything I do, Angela darling,’ Ester replied loftily. ‘I was outsmarting the Filth before you were a twitch in your daddy’s underpants.’
Angela was tempted to point out that for someone skilled in outsmarting the Filth, Ester had spent a lot of her adult life behind bars, but it wasn’t worth it. She behaved as long as she thought she had the upper hand. And behave was all Angela actually needed her to do.
‘So, what’s the cover story for four middle-aged women heading to Europe in a 25-seater coach?’
‘There’ll be Rob and my kids as well,’ said Angela. ‘So I imagine we’ll look like friends going on holiday, if you can manage to smile.’
In fact Julia was also planning to bring three kids from the home, but they would keep that quiet until the final second before they were due to leave, so that Ester had no option but to accept it. Sam, Darren and Suzie were unrelated orphans who would never in a million years be successfully fostered — they were too damaged for ordinary people to love. They were exactly the sort of kids Dolly would have wholeheartedly embraced if The Grange had ever been successfully transformed into a children’s home. Julia adored each one of them. They were very difficult in their own ways but the rewards, when they came, were heart-warming. She wouldn’t dream of leaving them behind.
Laura thanked the custody sergeant as he let Jack into Audrey’s cell.
‘Five minutes, Jack, OK?’
Inside, Jack handed Audrey a cup of coffee she hadn’t asked for, which confused her, until she glanced to the top right-hand corner of her cell, at the CCTV camera pointing down at her. Her blood ran cold and the penny dropped: Jack didn’t have a legitimate reason for being in her cell. He was covering his back so this little visit wouldn’t come back and bite him in the arse. Their conversation would appear cordial to anyone watching, but even Audrey, who wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, could see that the man standing in front of her now wasn’t the same kind man who’d earlier plied her with coffee and biscuits.