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Authors: Calvin Wade

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Jemma

 


It doesn

t make sense.

Ray was annoying me now. I had gone to his house for a bit of

TLC

, not to be subjected to questioning from Ray, who all of a sudden
thought he was Britain

s answer to Columbo.


What doesn

t make sense, Ray?


How your Mum died. It makes no sense whatsoever.


She fell down the stairs.

I wished he

d give it a rest.


Yes, Jemma, but you said she was coming up the stairs. I have fallen
when running up the stairs and all that happens is that you fall forward,
face first into the stair, you don

t topple backwards.


Ray, I wasn

t there! I just heard a thud. I thought she must have
fallen when she was coming up to bed but maybe she forgot something,
started going down, then fell and that

s when I heard the thud.

Ray had a smug expression on his face.


Now that makes more sense. What you need to do, when you speak
to the police tomorrow, is explain that you have been talking to me and
I have worked out that the victim obviously fell whilst heading down
the stairs. If they don

t understand, tell them to ring me.


Thanks Kojak! They

ve probably worked that one out themselves!


Well, you hadn

t!

I humoured him.


Yes, but I

m not as intelligent as you, am I, Ray? Anyway, can we
not just talk about something else. For the last twenty four hours, all I
have done is talk to people about the accident.

The smugness had not yet left Ray

s face.


I know what I

ve not told you! Something weird happened to me
yesterday!

I loved Ray but a drama without him being central to it, would only
interest him for so long. I

m sure he felt genuinely sorry for me, that I
was having to deal with the crisis created after Vomit Breath

s death, but
ultimately he knew I wasn

t in the depths
of despair, so he was happy to
change the subject to one where he was the central character. As I say,
I loved the man, but Ray

s favourite subject was always,

RAY

. I was
happy to allow him to talk. At times, his incessant talking could become
a little irritating, but following on from Vomit Breath

s death and the
countless questions I had been asked, it was a welcome distraction.


Someone kissed me yesterday!

I think Ray was hoping I would be furiously jealous, but after the
twenty four hours I had been through, all I could manage was to feign
minor interest.


Really? Who?


You

re not going to believe this!

Only Ray could try to trump the unexpected death of my mother
by a story about someone kis
sing him! I was bored already.

             

Just tell me, Ray!


Honestly, Jemma, you won

t believe it!


I

m sure I won

t. Who?


Guess!


Ray, at this moment in time, if it was Madonna or the Pope, I

m
really not bothered. Just tell me.


Richie!


Richie?
Kelly

s boyfriend, Richie?

Still smug.


The very one!

This sounded odd. Then again, I suppose Richie was odd. He had
slept with me and then denied all knowledge. Kelly loved him dearly,
but he was odd.


When did he kiss you? Was it when Everton scored?


No, no, it wasn

t a celebratory kiss, Jemma, it was a romantic one.
He must have a bit of a thing for me. It was mad! He pulled me to him
in a vice like grip, started kissing me, tongue and everything and when
I pulled away, you should have seen his face. Furious he was. Got out
the door, slammed it and stomped off. We were at a petrol station just
off the M6 and he wouldn

t even get back in the car, I had to leave him
there!


Is this the God

s honest truth?


Swear on your life, Jemma! He told me I was disgusting for repelling
his advances. He must be one of those pro-gays who thinks everyone
who is not gay is weird!

All things considered, it was probably an inappropriate time to be
laughing, but I couldn

t help myself. It sounded ludicrous!


Ray, there is no way that Richie is gay!


Well he was doing a very good impression yesterday! He started
crying about the Hillsborough disaster, I started comforting him and
he obviously read my signals all wrong and started kissing me. He

s gay,
as sure as a puff is a puff!


So are you not interested then?


NO!


He

s a good looking lad!


Don

t be ridiculous, Jemma, I

m no arse bandit!


But you think Richie is!


I don

t think Jemma, I know. If I

d have kissed him back, he

d have
been up my bum like a rat up a drainpipe!

 

Richie

 

Kelly and I sat in the early morning sunshine on the

Sunny Road

only speaking intermittently. We both had a lot to take in. As I thought,
questions were raised in my head so I would occasionally break the
tranquillity by asking Kelly for explanations. I needed to fill gaps in
my understanding. One of the biggest shocks for me was learning that
Kelly

s Mum used to regularly beat Jemma. I knew she was an idiot, I
just hadn

t realised she was a psychopath.


Why did you not tell me all this had been going on?


I couldn

t, Richie. I was ashamed of myself for not doing anything
to help.

There was also the shock of coming
to terms with the simple fact
that my girlfriend had ended someone

s
life. My girlfriend who seemed
to me like the most beautiful and gentle girl you could possibly hope to
meet, had killed someone. Finally, I had to deal with the shock of being
asked to run away with the aforementioned killer.


Kelly, where
would we run to if we ran away?


Abroad. They would find us if we didn

t go abroad.


Whereabouts are you thinking?


We

d need to keep moving. Anyway, there

s loads of places I

d like
to go. Places that are culturally a million miles from here, places like
Saudi Arabia and Egypt.

As I was no stranger to home comforts, Egypt and Saudi Arabia
did not exactly appeal. I managed to smile.


I can

t imagine us there, Kelly!


Why not?


I

m too used to my Mum making my bed, cleaning the dishes,
putting the TV on for me and making me a pot of tea. Can you see me
riding through the desert on a camel?


No, but I could picture us riding through the desert on horseback,
like in Lawrence of Arabia!


I think you

ve watched too many films, Kelly! I wouldn

t even be
able to get on a camel or a horse, I

d pr
obably end up facing the wrong
way!

For the first time all day, Kelly giggled a little to herself. It was a
sweet giggle.


OK. You win! Egypt and Saudi are out. Where do you want to go?

             
I wanted to stay in Ormskirk but
I knew that was not what Kelly
wanted to hear.


Somewhere they speak English. My French is crap and I can

t roll
my

R

s so anywhere Spanish speaking is out! Somewhere like Australia
or America would be great.

After I said Australia, I cringed as I thought Kelly may latch on to the ancestral convict link, but luckily she didn

t.


I

d be happy going to either the US or Oz, I just need to get away
from here.


Today?


No, but soon.


How soon?


This month.


I don

t think we could get into Australi
a that quick, you need a visa.
You might need one for America too.

I was trying to slow things down.
Ultimately, I was going nowhere, I just didn

t want Kelly to either.


I need to go this month, Richie.


Kelly, that

s daft.

Kelly

s bottom lip quivered a little. I could tell she was offended.


No it is not!


Kelly, it is! I saw that policewoman with you earlier, there is no way
in the world that she thinks that you killed your Mum. If you try and
leg it this week, then all of a sudden, you are looking guilty.


When do you suggest we go then?

This was another surreal conversation. I had a lump in my scrotum
the size of a marble and pretty soon I

d be listening to a urologist tell
me whether or not I had cancer. Going on the run with a sixteen year
old killer was not high on my list of priorities, despite her being the
prettiest girl in the world.

BOOK: Forever Is Over
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