Deep Water, Thin Ice (33 page)

‘What do you think?’ he asked her and she tilted her head to one side, listening, flop ears pricked. ‘Should we go to see Alex?’ At the woman’s name Susie tipped her head the other way and her tail thumped the floor.

Still undecided, Mick stretched out a hand to stroke Susie’s head and then sat down again. The dog lay down too, stretched out one front leg and rested her head on it with a pointed grunt. Mick looked round his tiny sitting room and sighed. It was a shambles; he hadn’t cleared up properly for weeks. He’d intended to, had even made half-hearted attempts to do so at first, but then he’d realised that Alex wouldn’t be coming any more and he couldn’t be bothered. On the outside of the carriage, someone had sprayed obscene words in paint and tails of the paint trailed across the window and he hadn’t done anything to clear that up either.

Would she listen to him if he turned up at her door? There again, what did he have to lose? There were so many reasons why he wanted to see her. He swore and stood up again. He’d been through this a million times. He should just do it.

*

Pushing open the wrought iron gate which gave on to the front garden of Hillen Hall, Mick glanced warily around and then flicked a glance towards the Lodge. He’d heard that Theo had gone away for a couple of weeks but he couldn’t be sure. It was two-thirty. The man would probably be at work anyway but Mick was both nervous and angry with himself for his cowardice. Still, he was on alien territory, unknown; he felt more confident when he was on his own patch. He called Susie close to heel, stepped up the path to the front door, hesitated and pressed the bell-push. He could hear it ring inside and waited, heart thumping, for the door to open. When there was no response he was considering trying again when Susie twisted round and whined. He turned to see Alex standing just inside the gate, watching him. She appeared fixed to the spot but eventually walked slowly towards him. She wasn’t wearing a coat and her hair was flattened against her head in the rain. He thought she looked lovelier than ever; he’d forgotten how luminous she was, how she radiated warmth. When she got close to him she stopped, square on, hands rammed in the pockets of her jeans. She said nothing but her blue eyes challenged him and she waited.

‘Hello Alex,’ he said. Susie moved to her side and Alex bent over to give her a fuss. The rain was getting heavier by the minute and when she straightened up he could see it running down her face onto her neck and then down to her sweater. She ran the back of one hand under her chin to wipe it away. ‘I’ve come to tell you all about it,’ he said.

‘I don’t want to know,’ she said, and stepped forward to pass him but he put a hand out and gripped her arm.

‘Please…Alex. I can’t believe you don’t want to hear my side of the story. The Alex I used to know was always fair. I can’t believe you’ve changed that much.’ She looked down at his hand and he let go of her but still she didn’t move. She ran her eyes over him and he could sense her disapproving appraisal. He’d made a weak attempt to tidy up his beard and his hair before he’d come out but he knew he didn’t look good. He wished he’d taken more trouble. ‘I should have told you everything long ago,’ he continued. ‘I know that. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry you found out from someone else.’ He hesitated. ‘Look, I’m not sure what you know exactly but it isn’t…wasn’t…what it seems. Won’t you let me explain?’ He waited but she said nothing though neither did she move. She just looked at him. He thought he could see evidence in her eyes of some sort of internal struggle. ‘Please?’ he pressed her softly.

‘You’d better come in,’ she said. ‘You’ll have to come round to the kitchen door though. This one’s bolted.’ She walked off and he followed her round the corner to the back. She turned at the door and caught him glancing down towards the Lodge. ‘Theo’s away,’ she said, and then turned the key in the door and pushed it open.

‘I know. All the same I’d better not come in. I’m dirty.’

‘Of course you are. But you’d better come in anyway. I’m not going to stand in the rain talking to you.’

‘I don’t want to leave Susie outside.’

‘She can come in too.’ Alex looked down at the dog and smiled. ‘Come on Susie. Let’s see if I’ve got a treat for you.’ She stepped inside onto the doormat, kicked her muddy shoes off and called the dog again. Susie followed her in and immediately shook her rain-sodden fur all over the kitchen. Mick hesitated and then stepped inside too.

*

Mick stood in the middle of the kitchen and glanced around. It was old and worn, dingy even. He was surprised perhaps, though in truth he hadn’t known what to expect. He’d rehearsed this moment so many times but now his witty opening gambits felt clearly out of place and the more sensitively considered sentences deserted him. He stood there, feeling foolish. Susie was in the corner, already demolishing the chewy treat Alex had given her. Alex had grabbed a towel from behind the door and was dabbing it over her face and neck.

‘Take your coat off,’ she said. ‘Here,’ she added, passing him the towel. ‘You’re soaking too. Have a seat.’ She nodded at the chairs by the table. He dumped his bag on the floor and rubbed the towel briefly over his face. He glanced down at it to see if he’d made it dirty, then pushed it back onto the hook. ‘Coffee?’ she said, without looking at him and was already picking up the coffee jug to fill with water.

‘Yes…thanks.’ Mick carefully removed his waxed coat and put it round the back of a chair before easing himself down onto the seat.

Neither spoke while Alex filled the filter with coffee and set it running. Susie patrolled the kitchen, nose to the floor in search of crumbs, her claws clicking on the stone floor. The rain pattered against the window and could be heard gurgling insistently down the drainpipe outside. Eventually, and reluctantly it seemed to Mick, Alex had nothing left to do and she slid into a seat opposite him. She lifted her eyes to his.

‘Well?’

‘I see you’ve already judged me.’

‘I don’t need to do that. You were judged years ago and found guilty. How do you expect me to react?’

‘I expect you to keep an open mind.’ He could see distrust in her expression. ‘I didn’t do it – whatever version of the story you’ve heard.’ Mick checked himself. He hadn’t intended to be so confrontational. He could understand why she might be upset and confused but defensiveness was ingrained in him.

Alex stared at him and then got up and walked out of the room. She came back a couple of minutes later with the press copy Theo had given her. She passed it to Mick without a word. He looked down it and then lifted his eyes to look at her.

‘Is this all you’ve seen?’

‘Isn’t it enough?’

Mick tossed the paper down on the table.

‘No.’

‘So, it’s not true? You haven’t been to prison for sexually abusing children?’

‘Yes, of course,’ he said. ‘That bit’s true.’ Alex pulled a pained face and turned her head away. ‘
And
some of the rest of it,’ he pressed on. ‘I
was
a biology teacher and then went to work on a nature reserve but there was no abuse…ever.’ Alex turned back to look at him and he could see how much she wanted to believe him. This was probably his only chance to make her understand and he hesitated, desperate to choose the right words. ‘I never did anything inappropriate with any child. That’s not to say there weren’t a few I wouldn’t have liked to slap at times but I never touched any of them…ever. Alex? It’s true.’

‘So? Go on.’

‘The school I used to work for began to run regular school trips to the reserve, three or four times over the term, and I was responsible for showing them round, organising projects for them to do. There was one lad – a fifteen year old - who was a troublemaker. He kept throwing things at the nesting birds, trying to get to the nests to steal eggs. He was a complete pain in the ass. I remembered him from the school and he’d always been difficult when I was teaching him. In the end I caught him actually stealing eggs one day and gave him some grief. I said I was going to report him. He was cocky and aggressive and made a load of threats. I didn’t pay any attention. I’d heard stuff like that before.’

He paused. ‘That evening I had the police at my door. They were arresting me for supposedly molesting this lad when he was in the first year at the school. I couldn’t believe it. I knew I was innocent so I tried to stay calm. I assumed that it would all be sorted out over an interview and that would be the end of it. But I was wrong; it was just the start of a god-awful nightmare. The next thing one of the boy’s cronies came forward to claim the same thing. So much time had passed that there was no chance of doing DNA tests or anything to prove it one way or the other. It was my word against theirs.’ Mick shook his head, feeling the throat-thickening emotion he still had every time he thought about it. ‘I didn’t have a hope. I was remanded. It took ages to come to trial and then I was sent down for six years. That was hell on earth. You know what they do to child-abusers in prison? Well, you don’t want to.’

Alex was watching every move of his face as he spoke. Then the sound of hissing from the coffee-maker prompted her to get up. She opened a cupboard, took out a packet of biscuits and tipped some onto a plate. ‘Here,’ she said, putting them in front of him. ‘You’re thinner than ever.’ She turned back to pour the coffee and then brought it to the table.

She sat down but this time didn’t look at him and sat fiddling with a spoon, as he had so often seen her do before.

‘I did three years Alex. But then I was released early on appeal.’ She looked up at him then.

‘What? Why?’

‘Some new evidence came up. My defence team found another boy who said he’d heard my two accusers laughing and joking about how they’d stitched me up. He was prepared to testify.’ Mick paused. ‘It was bloody brave of him.’

‘So what happened?’

‘To cut a long story short, after much debate and argument, the appeal court overturned the verdict, said that I was innocent after all and I was released.’

Alex leaned forward onto the table then with an earnest expression.

‘I don’t understand. So, if you’re innocent, why did you end up here? Why the carriage thing? Why do you behave as if you’re guilty, hiding away?’

Mick leaned back in the chair and rested his wiry hands flat on the table, trying to look calm.

‘Because once you’re convicted of a crime like that, everyone doubts you. A lot of people think that a successful appeal means that you’ve just got away with it, not that you’re innocent.’ He sat forward again, drank some coffee and then picked up a biscuit. He shot a glance towards Alex’s face. She was frowning.

‘I didn’t know. That was the only report I saw,’ she said, looking towards the newspaper article.

‘How did you see it?’ he asked, though he knew the answer.

‘Theo showed it to me. A friend of his brought it to his attention.’

‘There’s an unlucky coincidence,’ he said casually. ‘Well, there
were
other reports. Of course there were pages of it when I was convicted, column upon column of spurious evidence and hearsay. When my appeal was upheld, it was crammed into one paragraph inside. If you look, you’ll find it somewhere. Have a look on the internet. You can find everything there these days can’t you?’ Mick grimaced. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. He picked up the mug of coffee again.

Alex was quiet for a few minutes. He waited. Susie had come to lie down near his feet and he reached a hand down to rub the top of her head.

‘I’m sorry,’ Alex said eventually. She lifted her eyes and looked at him directly. ‘I’m sorry it happened and I’m sorry I didn’t come to give you a chance to explain. I found it hard to believe but…’ Her voice trailed off as her eyes came to rest on the news copy and then added: ‘It seemed impossible to deny.’

‘After seeing that report, I can see why. And it’s my fault for not telling you in the first place. Silence suggests guilt, doesn’t it? But at least you’re listening to me now which is more than most people would do, believe me. Once you’ve been accused of doing something to a child, no-one wants to know you. That’s it – the end of your life as you know it. I can understand why people get so worked up about it – it’s a filthy thing to do - but when you’re innocent…’ He left the sentence hanging. ‘Well I had to move away. In any case there was no job to go back to.’

‘Family?’ Alex asked tentatively.

Mick shook his head.

‘My wife divorced me and moved away when I was put in prison. I’ve got a son somewhere but I haven’t seen him since. He was very young. It’s probably kinder for him, though I’d love to see him. I’d like him to know the truth.’ He took another mouthful of coffee. ‘I tried living in a few different places – I even changed my name - but each time someone would find out and then life would become impossible and I moved on.’ He paused but Alex was listening keenly now and the words seemed to be tumbling out of him, the release of pressure pushing them out.

‘Then I received some money as compensation for my wrongful imprisonment and I found out about the marshy Grenloe land. Felicity Brook had been told it was good for nothing and more of a problem than an asset so she let it go cheap. It was just the sort of place I needed: no-one knew me and I could keep my head down and set up my own reserve. A loyal friend helped me get the old railway carriage down here and I made it over to live in. I wrote a few articles for nature magazines under yet another name, did some carving to sell…’ He shrugged. ‘I was doing OK.’