“Don’t forget, you’ll be closely supervised for six months.”
“Yeah, yeah, so what’s new? When will I be going then?”
“Next week; probably Monday morning. Good luck to you, Edwin.”
“Cheers.”
As Hawkes continued patrolling the courtyard, he could not help but have a little niggling doubt as to whether the decision of the powers-that-be to let Edwin leave the safety of the hospital was actually the correct one, or whether the repercussions would come back to haunt them in the future. Only time would tell.
Back in his room, Edwin looked around the familiar surroundings that had been his home for so long. There wasn’t much to pack as far as he could see; a few clothes, some toiletries, some paperbacks, and the framed photographs of his mother and father they’d let him keep. Not much to show for a life lived for nearly 60 years.
He thought back to what he’d had before it all went wrong; the house, the car, the business, his daughter, but most of all…Beth. That little shit had taken the whole lot away from him by being born, and he’d even had the nerve to come and visit!
Edwin punched the wall with his fist, feeling the tension leave his body:
His son would be the first one to pay. He would wait until the time was right, bide his time, keep his nose clean, and then claim Beth back, who had been rightfully his in the first place. That little fucker had only been good for one thing; he’d bleated on about living in Norwich close to the station. Sooner or later one of them would be getting off the train……………….
CHAPTER 61
The work was tedious. However, Edwin was nothing if not a perfectionist. He stacked the supermarket shelves with a military precision; the label of each tin always faced the same way, and was lined up perfectly with the one next to it. He was well aware that he had become an object of ridicule amongst his teenage co-workers, but he kept himself to himself and made sure his anger never bubbled to the surface, especially when some stupid customer would take a tin from his carefully constructed pile and throw it in carelessly in their trolley.
He made himself popular with the management. He was always early for his shift, and always let it be known that he did not mind staying over time to help out with work in other departments. After his three-month trial he was promoted to assisting the manager in charge of the grocery department; making sure every fruit and vegetable compartment was always well-stocked with produce from the warehouse, and answering customer enquiries. The work was still tedious, but the managers were pleased with Edwin’s diligence.
At the end of his shift Edwin would walk the two miles home to his little four-roomed flat in Braemar House. He saved his wages, kept himself apart from the other inhabitants, and made sure he was always on time for the daily meetings with his social worker. If he was not needed to work a weekend shift he would spend his time in the local Internet café, trawling through estate agents’ websites looking for a suitable place to rent; near enough to get to Norwich on the train, but far enough away not to cause any suspicion.
Before he knew it the two mile walk home was being taken under a summer sky and with the birds still twittering in the trees. Edwin was pleased; the physical work in the supermarket had made him fitter than he’d been in years, he had some money in his post office account, and things were indeed looking up.
One day in the middle of a heatwave he arrived back home to find a note from Danny, the Social Worker, pinned to his front door to say he would be calling again that evening. Edwin tutted with annoyance, and tore the note into shreds. He was just finishing his meal of roast chicken, chips and peas, when he heard the inevitable knock on the door:
“Hello Edwin; may I come in?”
“Sure Danny. I was just finishing my dinner.”
“Had a good day at work?”
“Not too bad. There’s talk of me being promoted again. Nothing definite, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”
Danny nodded sagely:
“I’ve only been hearing good things about you, Edwin.”
“Well, I’ve tried hard to keep in their good books. It looks as if it might be paying off at last.”
“Indeed. Indeed.” Danny Vincent looked at the man standing in front of him and wondered what it was about Edwin that always made him feel edgy. He couldn’t put his finger on quite what it was, but there was definitely something about the man that just did not gel right with him.
“It looks as though you’ll be able to move off from Braemar House quite soon. You’re holding down your job, and if you’re agreeable you can start looking for somewhere of your own to rent now.” Danny smiled with his mouth, but his eyes stayed focused.
“Great. I was thinking somewhere like Colchester. My cousin lives near the town centre there.”
“Ok. I’ll inform Essex social services, but you’ll only need to report in once a week now to their office. Ask the HR department at the supermarket for help in transferring you to their branch in Colchester. They’ll be able to give you a good reference.”
“Will do.”
Danny felt relieved to be able to escape out of the front door. At the last moment he realised what he found disconcerting about the man; it was the eyes. Edwin’s voice was soft, but the black, beady eyes were mesmerising.
CHAPTER 62
Edwin left Braemar house at the end of July 2013 without so much as a backward glance, and found a one bedroom flat to rent in Colchester about a 20 minute walk from the train station. He remembered that his cousin probably lived nearby, but did not have any burning desire to find out for certain. He took his prescribed medications on time, reported to his new social worker once a week, cooked a meal for one each evening, and kept his new flat clean and tidy.
The reference from his previous employer stood him in good stead, and within a short time had been promoted to the post of produce manager at the Colchester branch. He ran his team with military precision, but spoke to nobody unless it was to do with work issues. He was aware the staff laughed at him behind his back and thought him odd, but his team were somehow mindful to arrive punctually for their shifts and to wear a smartly pressed uniform and a willing smile. Customers often commented on how tidily and neatly the vegetables were stacked in their little plastic compartments.
Edwin waited, and then waited some more. When his social worker only needed to see him once a month, he began to formulate some plans. The freedom from interfering busybodies gave him the chance to catch the train unobserved and make some forays into Norwich on his days off. He found a seat outside the station where he could sit and watch the people coming and going. He would be nearer to her there; he felt he could almost reach out and touch her hair.
He had all the time in the world. The weather was good, and not a soul noticed him sitting there hour after hour. People rushed by him, busy with their own lives. He scanned the faces of the women going in and out of the station, and knew that if he was patient one day he would catch a glimpse of her.
When the weather started to change he wrapped up warmly and brought flasks of hot soup with him on the train. The afternoon sun set too soon in the run-up to Christmas, and Edwin had to catch an earlier train home than usual when it became too dark to see people’s faces.
Then on the last Saturday afternoon before Christmas just as he had decided to go back, he saw her coming out of the station. She was laughing and holding hands with a man dressed in jeans and a long black overcoat, who carried a large holdall. Her long blonde hair was flying in the wind, and her head was close together with his as they shared some private joke that he would never be a part of. At one point they stopped to kiss, and Edwin felt the anger start to rise
Putting his rucksack on his back he followed at a discreet distance as they turned right out of the station and hurried along the road. It had started to rain slightly, and he saw the man put an umbrella over Beth’s hair. They cuddled closer to keep out of the rain. Edwin’s hands scrunched into fists as he walked, the knuckles whit
e in his pockets.
Within about 10 minutes they opened a garden gate and walked up the path to a detached double-fronted house. Edwin made a mental note of the number of the house and the name of the road. With the hood to his jacket pulled well down over his head he walked on by, and saw a middle-aged woman open the front door and let the couple in. His last vision was of the outside light picking out glints of gold in Beth’s hair as she embraced the older woman and stepped inside the house with the man.
Edwin thought long and hard on the train ride home. He would have to see his social worker the following day, but then the supermarket would be closed for Christmas for a couple of days. The festive season stretched out empty before him. He had all the time in the world to plan just exactly how he was going to get Beth back again. She had been taken so rudely from him all those years ago, but now he could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, and once he had her he would never let her go again.
CHAPTER 63
“Aw Mum, you’re not bringing out those terrible decorations again that I made at primary school are you?” Joss complained good-naturedly as his mother prepared to tie a paper bauble onto the Christmas tree that had been haphazardly coloured in many years before with a child’s red crayon.
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I?” Beth laughed. “This is very precious to me. You’ve written ‘I love my mummy’ on it.”
“Oh God.” Joss hid his head under a cushion.
“I think it’s lovely.” Tara brought out another one from the box. “This one just says ‘Jos’ with one s.”
“It took him years to be able to spell Jocelyn.”
“I am here you know.” A muffled voice spoke from beneath the cushion.
“Come out you wimp. Mum will be bringing my ones out in a minute.” Amy plonked herself down on the sofa next to Joss. “I’ll never understand why we have to put a tree in our front room just because it’s Christmas.”
“Prince Albert started it back in the 1850’s I think. Blame him. Paul, here’s some of Amy’s.” Beth held up a wonky-looking angel with a broken halo.
“Was she drunk at the time?” Paul laughed as he unravelled a string of coloured lights.
“I was only eleven, so I don’t think so. It was my first proper Christmas.” Amy was pensive and suddenly uncharacteristically quiet.
“Don’t dwell on the past darling, just enjoy the present.” Beth smiled. “We’re going to have a lovely time over the next few days.”
“But don’t you ever think of it; of him?” Amy stood up to help her mother decorate the tree.
“No. I try not to. It’s all in the past now. It’ll do us no good to keep thinking about it.”
“How’s it going in here? Liam came into the room carrying an aluminium ladder from the garage, with Toby following behind. “Come on Joss, you can help out eh? Can you hand me up some of those ceiling decorations? Hold the ladder steady, Toby.” Liam climbed up the ladder holding a large silver bell.
“Can’t I just sit here and watch?” Joss sighed and stuffed a warm mince pie in his mouth.
“It’s ok, I’ll help you.” Tara stuck her tongue out at Joss and handed Liam up a glittering ‘Merry Christmas’ sign.
“Thank you Tara. It’s a good thing someone wants to help.”
“I’m eating.” Joss took another mince pie and remained seated.
Beth looped fairy lights around the tree and switched them on, hoping against hope that they still worked after a year packed away in the loft. A cheer went up around the room as the bulbs sprang to life.
“Who’s going to midnight mass tonight?” She stood back to admire her handiwork.
“We’re all going aren’t we?” Amy looked at Paul, who nodded.
“Of course. It’s a Darrah family tradition!” Liam stepped down from the ladder. “Ok with you Toby?”
“Sure. Mom and Mike usually go. Christmas Eve wouldn’t be the same without midnight mass.”
“I’ll do dinner for eight o’clock then. Pork and apple sauce, roast potatoes, and vegetables. Volunteers needed to help set up and clear away.”
“Joss and I will help, Beth.” Tara sat down next to Joss and gave him a kiss.
“Did my lips move? Did I agree to this?” Joss chewed on a third mince pie.
“Yep!” Tara and Beth both spoke in unison.
CHAPTER 64
A light blanket of snow lay undisturbed on the quiet road. Edwin shivered inside his black duffel coat and pulled the hood well over his head as he walked towards the house on the opposite side of the road. He could see a light on in the porch, but otherwise the rest of the rooms were in total darkness.
Crossing over the road he opened the garden gate quietly and tiptoed unnoticed around to the back of the house, where he found that thankfully several large leylandii offered him good cover.
Switching on his torch, he tried the patio doors but found them locked. He then tried the handle of the double-glazed kitchen door, but it did not budge. Moving along past the kitchen there was a door to some kind of outbuilding. Edwin pulled the handle down and was surprised when it yielded. He opened the door and found himself inside a garage-cum-workshop.
Flashing his torch around the inside of the garage he could see the outline of the family car; one of those flashy Range Rover jobs. Ladders and tools were hung on hooks on the walls, and he could see some old tins of paint and used paintbrushes on a long workbench that ran along the left side.
Moving past the car towards the front of the garage he came across a door on the right hand side of the wall. Somebody had left a ladder propped up next to the door, which somehow looked out of place. Shining his torch on the handle, he turned it and found himself inside the house near to main entrance. He could see the light in the porch shining through the half-glazed inner front door.
There were no sounds of life in the house at all. Looking about him, he could see a white burglar alarm sensor in a corner above the inner door. He noticed there was no usual red light flashing indicating that it had been turned on, and Edwin decided to take a chance.
Keeping away from any likely pressure pads near the front door or at the foot of the stairs just in case, he crept onto the first step and inched his way upwards towards the bedrooms. He could hear nothing apart from clocks ticking away the moments until his hated and lonely Christmas Day. He stepped over another likely pressure pad at the top of the stairs, and had another look around.
Five doors were open along the landing, and another one right at the end was closed. Creeping on tiptoe Edwin looked in the first one; a bedroom with a double bed in it and various items of men’s clothing scattered on the duvet, probably pulled out of the suitcase he could see lying on the floor. There was a guitar by the bed on a stand.
He moved along to the room next to it; a boy’s room judging by the posters on the walls and the masculine décor. His son’s room! The little shit whose fault it had all been in the first place! There was no sign of the boy. Edwin’s sense of orderliness baulked at the sight before him; the unmade bed, the dirty cup and plate on the bedside table, and the possessions strewn haphazardly about the room.
The room next to the boy’s room was a bathroom and toilet. Edwin noticed how clean the room was, and how the matching pink towels and flannels were the same colour as the soap and the shower curtain. Did she use this room? Was that her perfume in the air? He became aroused, imagining her soaping her naked body. He had to turn away as his mind started to wander from its goal.
His goal! Walking confidently along the upstairs landing, now certain that the house was temporarily unoccupied, Edwin investigated the next two bedrooms at his leisure. They were definitely occupied by females; the rooms both had en-suite bathrooms, large double beds, and were fluffy, frilly and flouncy. He opened drawers and cupboards, fingering lacy panties, slips and brassieres. He felt a rage starting deep within him at the sight of men’s clothing hanging up on one side of both built-in wardrobes, and he had to sit down on one of the b
eds and take a deep calming breath as he had been taught to do years before at the hospital.
He opened the door to the last bedroom, which he decided was obviously a spare single room as all it contained were a bare mattress and empty cupboards and shelves. Edwin grinned to himself; it would be a perfect place to wait until the family were settled and asleep. Nobody would think of going in there, and there was even a comfortable-looking armchair next to the bed for him to sit in.
But first his bladder needed emptying; there could be a long wait until the family returned. Edwin went into the bathroom, turned on the light, lifted up the toilet seat, and relieved himself. He flushed the toilet, lowered the lid, and washed his hands at the sink. Before he went back to the spare room he straightened the mat around the toilet, wiped the sink, and lined up the towels neatly side by side, He folded the flannel and placed it next to the soap, turning off the light as he went out.
His rucksack was heavy on his back. He went back into the spare bedroom, closed the door again and unbuckled the rucksack; sighing with relief. He took off his duffel coat and sank into the armchair, undoing the zip of his rucksack and taking out a round of ham and tomato sandwiches and a bottle of water. After he had eaten he packed any rubbish back in his rucksack, making sure the knife in its leather sheath was within easy reach. Then he turned off his torch, sat in the dark, and waited.