Highbridge (34 page)

‘The Chair of the Council? Why are you being so formal, Malcolm? What happened to the spirit of public–private partnership?'

‘Because, Sean, that only goes so far.'

‘As far as a free lunch, perhaps?' Sean regretted it as soon as he said it. He had thrown them a way of getting off the hook. Dignified outrage. Something they appeared well used to deploying.

‘Is that really the way you see public service, Sean? Scratching backs and feathering nests?' Education enquired. Loftily.

‘None of us enter public service expecting gratitude or favour,' Planning added. For information.

Sean now appreciated how good and formidable a pair they were as he tried to recover. ‘I didn't mean … That came out wrong. I'm just trying to find out what's happening.'

‘Then I suggest that the first thing you find out is how the formal procedures should be followed. But if it suits you better, if you don't like what we say, then, by all means, talk directly to Harold. Now, may we go for lunch?'

Sean knew when he was being stonewalled, or ignored, but tried to smile graciously as he stepped to one side and offered a guiding arm towards the café.

The Chair of Education headed off gruffly, without another word, but the Chair of Planning, the real politician of the pairing, leaned closer to Sean. He thought she might be going to offer some word of political advice. He should have known better.

‘I hear Craig Harlow's going to open your Christmas attraction. How thrilling. And we'll be here to support you. I'm a big fan.' She almost sounded guilty, as she gave a hunched-up smile and headed off.

Perhaps he should listen to Glynnis and Sandra more. Especially about running for the Council himself. If he had had any doubts before, he didn't now. Even if it was just to see the look on their faces as they discovered that, in the end, there was no such thing as a free lunch. But, right now, he thought, if word is creeping out I'd better make sure everything works properly for when Craig arrives. And I can throw a bit of work Joey's way at the same time.

Joey had just finished replacing the wattle hurdle fence when the call came from Sean. Could he come over the following day and check the wiring for Santa's Garden as a celebrity was visiting on Saturday?

‘That'll be Craig Harlow,' Natasha said when he asked her if she knew anything.

‘How'd you know that? Sean just said it's a secret.'

She gave him a look. ‘But not from Sandra?'

Joey nodded, then added, ‘As you know everything. Is there a tranny working in the optician's?'

‘You mean Marian?'

‘If I knew I wouldn't be asking, would I?'

‘Everyone knows that. He's a bit weird but seems very efficient. So everyone says.'

Joey was about to ask whether he wore a dress to work or not, but noticed the number of plates Natasha handed him.

‘What are all these for?'

‘It's pizza night. All the kids bring friends over.'

He had no need to say anything. His face said it all. Another of life's rituals he had missed but would have to start getting used to.

‘How much else have you not told me about while I've been away?'

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Only the stuff you didn't need to worry about. I just set the plates and cutlery. They do the rest online. And I settle down to my spinach and apple salad in front of
Eastenders
and stare at my phone, hoping you will call.'

‘Oh yeah? Like the good little wifey?' he teased.

‘But I've got you here tonight, haven't I?' Then, with a mischievous seductive laugh, ‘In the flesh.' She pulled down her cowl-necked sweater to reveal the Elle Macpherson bra he had bought her for, as she kept reminding him, his last Christmas present. It took him by surprise. Something else his face gave away.

‘What's wrong?' she asked.

‘Nothing,' he said quickly. Instinctively. Then corrected himself. ‘Didn't think you'd be, well, in the mood, after … You Know.'

‘What? After you confirming what I'd been suspecting for the past month or so? C'mon, Joe. So long as you promise me you won't get directly involved. And it doesn't affect the kids. I don't care …' But she hesitated. Correcting herself. That wasn't exactly the way she felt. She did care. About Luke as her brother-in-law. But not for the ones who didn't care about her kids. They were due anything that was coming to them. ‘I don't care what happens to the people Luke is after. So long as you keep your promise.'

He reached out to pull her closer, but she resisted the full engulfment. She wanted to look him directly in the eye. Knowing that she would see any nanosecond of doubt. There wasn't any. So she let herself be engulfed. They were, as always, locked together.

Matt and Luke were, if not enjoying, then finishing off another ration pack. Italian Tuna Pasta. Matt had opted for the cherry flavoured isotonic drink while Luke had gone for the lemon. Matt was looking at the empty sachet.

‘How come we get Italian pasta from a company in Denmark that has it made in Thailand? Shouldn't they be making Thai curried chicken or something?'

‘Italians probably doing that,' Luke responded.

They were sitting in the Transit watching the four camera feeds on the four cheap laptops. Matt had got back to the Highbridge sign and fitted the last camera as soon as the maintenance team moved on for lunch. Thanks to Joey's earlier seminar on tapping into a lamppost's power supply, each camera would be permanently on, even though they expected Leather and his gang to appear mid-to late evening when there would be people around to squeeze. They would use the same global drill. What have you seen? What do you know? Any strangers in town? Who's been here you didn't know? What did they look like? A robust mix of coaxing, cajoling and outright torture, if necessary. The aim was twofold. Gather information. Spread fear.

The laptop was cable-tied to the loading rack just by the side door, and had its power pack connected to a power inverter linked to a deep charge 12-Volt car battery. It would run for the hours they needed it and be rotated with a replacement battery each day, if required. They didn't need a seminar from Joey on that one.

‘So Gazza lives down in the old towpath cottage now, does he? Come with the job?' Matt asked.

‘Don't think so. But he was mad on fishing, wasn't he?'

Matt nodded. ‘And he gets to walk two minutes to work. How'd we contact him?'

‘Three rings on his Emergency line. No pick-up. And he'll pop down and open the bridge. According to Joe, he reckons if it's after midnight and we can be in and out within a few minutes no one will kick off. Between about half nine and midnight it'll be fifty-fifty. Any earlier we'll have to break into his cottage, drag him out and make him do it.'

Matt spluttered out half a pack of a fruit and nut mix.

Luke just shrugged. ‘That's what Joe said.'

‘Does this sound like he's done it before?' Matt asked. ‘Or am I being paranoid?'

‘Stag do's, apparently! I didn't want any more details,' Luke responded. It was all Matt needed to know.

They sat for a moment dividing up what remained of the ration pack, while going over what each had to do when Leather's crew arrived. They both knew that this time it was not going to be about front. Or bottle. It was going to be win or lose. Nothing else.

‘One thing,' Matt suddenly said. ‘When this is done …' He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. The reflective sadness in his voice was enough.

‘OK,' Luke said. ‘I know.'

Matt held out a wide five. Luke clasped it. The pact was sealed.

A few hours later they were both asleep. Matt had checked the feed from Leather's house as soon as they got back to the cottage, but there was nothing in the log. No activity. So they had done the only thing they could do. Recharge their own batteries. The old maxim. Sleep when you can. It was something many took to the ultimate level, even sleeping on the helos on their way into a hot zone. Matt was never that relaxed. With the pact agreed, he couldn't wait to get into the fray.

ALTHOUGH HAVING TO
sit through
EastEnders
was not what Joey had in mind for a regular regime, sharing a settee with Natasha was a lot better than a boil in the bag supper with Benno. As the drum fill sounded on the theme music he took advantage of the cowl neck to slide his hand inside to cup her breast. She took it out. She wanted to return to the conversation they had been having before she'd shushed him so she could focus on that night's hook.

‘The biggest surprise in all this, Joe, is actually you wanting to be involved with Bobby McBain.'

‘Oh, the family's good enough for your daughter is it, Nat, but not for me?' Joey protested, tongue very firmly in cheek.

‘There's not much we can do about who Tanya fancies, although from the picture she showed me he does look quite cute.'

‘Well he didn't get that from his dad, did he?' Joey said as he continued to tell Natasha about the conversation with Bobby. How he was trying to set up a few legit businesses to, if not leave his own past behind, then at least give Max a better chance. How it was something all parents wanted and who were they to pre-judge him like everyone else did? And how, once branded, it was difficult to shake off the reputation.

‘And what makes you think people still don't ask me why I ended up with you?' she asked, but was smiling.

‘He's going to send me a copy of the Council's confidential briefing for potential developers.'

It worked. She was immediately intrigued. ‘And how'd he get that?'

‘Apparently … He knows everything that goes on in town.'

‘Which is exactly why you shouldn't get involved. He'll only be getting that briefing through some dodgy dealing.'

‘But it would keep me home more.' He slid his hand across to cup her breast again.

‘If you don't end up in jail.' But she didn't remove his hand this time. Which was when Tanya came in, just in time to see her father's hand rapidly retreat from inside her mother's top.

‘Oh, sorry. I forgot, you didn't get any last night.'

‘Tanya!' Joey spat out. In instinctive father mode. As was his look to Natasha. ‘Is this what she's like when I'm not here? As well as out clubbing on a school night?'

‘Oh don't start again. Tell him, Mum.'

‘I think you're quite capable of telling him yourself,' Natasha replied, not wanting to get involved. It would help Joey catch up if she left him to fend for himself. She stood up and collected the plates. ‘Tea, darling?'

Joey nodded, noting the grin. As did Roscoe, who probably decided Joey could cope as he followed the carbonara plates out. Joey turned back to Tanya. ‘Look—'

‘Don't be so patronising,' the return came back, with power.

‘What?'

‘People who start by saying “look” are like teachers or politicians who think they obviously know better than the lowlife they are deigning to talk to.'

‘OK. I get that. All I was … am trying to say is that Bobby and I go back a long way. So, I know what he's like.'

‘I'm not seeing him. How gross would that be?'

‘I know, but—'

‘Dad, look—'

‘Deigning to talk to me, are you?'

She gave him the lip curl, folded her arms and bit her lip. The point was obvious. Was there any point talking to him?

‘All I'm trying to do is advise you. OK? And you were right, I can't ground you if I'm not here. And I'm not up here because I spent too much time on street corners with the likes of Bobby, and so I am now trying to catch up, to give you all a better choice. A better choice than hanging round street corners and getting up to mischief and … you know.'

‘What? Get pregnant to get a council house or something?'

‘No, of course not. I'm just nervous that Max might end up like his dad.'

Tanya couldn't contain her anger any longer. ‘And I get all that. But for God's sake, I've been out with him a couple of times and one of those he had to go home early because Mummy said. You've already done your job, Dad. I can tell the difference between a lad who thinks and one who thinks it's all about what's between his legs.'

He was about to try and recover, when Tanya's friend Carol came bursting into the room.

‘Tan, Tan. Oh sorry, Mr Nolan. She's gone.'

Tanya started towards the door. ‘What? When?'

‘She got a text and then just went,' Carol explained, as she followed, smiling apologetically at Joey, just as Natasha came in with two teas.

‘What? What's happening?' she asked, as they heard the front door slam.

Joey shrugged. ‘Sounded like the other one's gone AWOL, or something.'

Outside, Tanya and Carol were hurrying to try and catch up with Becky. They ran to the end of the cul-de-sac, but by the time they reached the corner by the main road Becky was climbing into a parked and familiar Mercedes. Too late. Becky was gone.

‘And, apart from having a free house tonight, where did that come from?' Sean asked, stroking Sandra's hair as she lay across his chest.

‘Dunno, really. That business with Noah. The young lad in the park. The greenery for Janey's grave?' She looked up at him – then kissed his chest. ‘Just made me think how lucky we are, really.'

Sean squeezed her closer. ‘True. But saying Janey was run over is a bit of a euphemism. Bloody psycho off his head on drugs.'

‘That's what made me think about it, I suppose. And, how I like how you get so concerned about things. No matter how daft, or sad, you get about them.'

‘I'll take that as a compliment,' Sean responded.

‘You can. Just this once. But is Craig Harlow definitely coming tomorrow?'