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Authors: Mark Sinclair

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BOOK: The Beard
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Then, almost without warning, there was her picture. Her picture on the TV. In her house. In her bedroom. There was a picture of Sam next to hers. A shudder of horrific, biting reality shivered down her spine.

Police are still eager to speak to a Miss Amy Walker-Smith in connection with one of the biggest drug-smuggling efforts in the UK. Police, who’d been monitoring the movements of a number of drug gangs, moved in late last night to smash an impending global smuggling effort. They’ve arrested a number of people, including the suspected gang leader, Mr Samuel Jenkins. Police have issued photographs of Miss Amy Walker-Smith, who, they believe, was recently involved in a relationship with Mr Jenkins. Police have asked the public to contact them if they know anything as to her whereabouts. It’s hoped that she can assist with the on-going investigation.

As each of the words fell, leaden, into the room, Amy gawped at pictures of Ah-Lam crying at the door, as photographers attempted to get photographs of the fugitive, while police removed things in bags.

“I don’t know about before, but Ah-Lam definitely thinks you’re mad now,” said Ash in a matter-of-fact way. Amy started shaking in blind panic as she and Tom stared at the screen.

“You’d better call the police,” said Tom. “I mean, you’re innocent. You can just tell them what happened. I’ll come with you.”

At that moment, Amy’s mother burst through the door. “That’s not you we’ve just seen on TV, is it?” She could see by the look on all of their faces that they were equally stunned. “Who are you?” she barked at Ash.

“I’m Ash, Tom’s friend,” said Ash, looking Amy’s mother up and down. “His gay friend,” he offered, smiling and giving a little wave.

“What are you doing here?” she said perplexed. How had a stranger suddenly materialised in her house?

“Moral support!” Ash protested. “Now that Amy’s a wanted fugitive in an international drug cartel, I thought I’d offer support to Tom, the aggrieved boyfriend.”

Amy’s mother looked at Amy, who stood before her, her eyes welling up. “How could you?” she bellowed. “How COULD you?” 

Amy was distraught. “I didn’t! That’s a complete pack of lies. I didn’t, Mum, really I didn’t. I thought he was a human-rights lawyer. I’m not a drug smuggler!”

Amy’s mother looked taken aback. “I don’t mean that, you stupid girl. How could you betray Tom? AND with a drug dealer?”

Amy’s focus was knocked for six. She was wanted by the police for being an accessory in an international drug cartel and her mother was more concerned that she and her fake boyfriend were about to split up.

Tom wondered if now was a good opportunity to end it. It would, in all fairness, be a bloody good reason to dump someone. Amy looked at him, both of them desperate to see if the other was giving out any clues or cues.

“Is this true, Amy?” Tom said, beautifully in character, almost shaking with rage. “Were you seeing this man behind my back?”

Amy wanted to scream at him, “You know I was! We all went out for dinner!” But she realised, in the fog of emotional meltdown, that Tom was keeping his head. To have one crisis was bad enough, but to complement one trauma with another was just asking for trouble. So, despite the fact that she was on the verge of screaming, crying and stomping her feet like a petulant five-year-old, she kept the lie alive.

“Yes, Tom, I’m sorry. I did. It meant nothing.”

Tom looked taken aback. He knew that he shouldn’t overplay his hand, as Amy would likely explode and everything would come out. He knew that he had to take the news manfully, so that they could move on. In doing so, of course, he’d look like he was managing the calamity maturely.

“I see,” he said, looking to the floor. “I though
t you loved me?”

Amy, not sure whether she was in or out of character, cried. “I do, Tom, I do!”

Tom shook his head and pushed her away as she made an advance. The rest of the room looked on astonished at the unfolding human drama.

Amy’s mother crossed and grabbed his hands. “Don’t leave her!”
she started with desperation. “She’s made a silly, meaningless mistake. But then again, who hasn’t? We all make mistakes.”

Everyone turned to look at her in disbelief. Amy’s father, who’d wandered in, was subsequently on the receiving end of a room full of stares. Each look asked the same question: had Amy’s mother been unfaithful? “Like mother, like daughter,” Ash said waspishly as Judith turned to glare at him.

At this point, Amy didn’t know what to do. She just stood rigid and screamed – a side-splitting, heart-wrenching, angst-ridden scream. “Amy, love,” her father said with quiet command. “Come on, let’s go and see the police.”

Amy’s mother collapsed onto the bed as Ash withdrew his legs, allowing her to fall. Tom looked at the prostrate frame on the bed and then at Amy. “No, Richard,” he said. “I’ll go with Amy. Whatever’s happen
ed between us, it’s only right.”

Tom moved towards Amy and, grabbing her hand, dragged more than guided her out of the room.

As they walked towards the door in a comatose state, almost like zombies, Amy’s father put his hand across to block their exit. They both looked at him nervously. “Don’t you think you should get dressed first?” he smiled. They looked down to see that they were still in their night attire.

Tom nodded and asked everyone to leave the room. It took Ash and Richard to haul Judith out. “She’s worth fighting for,” she kept sobbing as she was escorted away, Ash looking at her with horror rather than pity.

It was only when the door closed that Amy broke down into tears and fell into Tom’s arms.

THIRTY-ONE

 

 

 

 

 

Richard sat in an armchair in the living room, staring off into the middle distance. Judith paced the room, talking incessantly. Richard wasn’t paying much attention to his wife. After a while, he was able to tune her out and consider his own thoughts.

He analysed the mess that Amy had got herself into. Betraying her boyfriend was one thing, but having her face plastered across most TV stations and papers was highly regrettable. The social stigma of having a daughter caught in the machinations of a drug circle hadn’t quite filtered down to Judith yet. As Richard watched his wife pace and pontificate, it humoured him that she seemed unaware of the social fallout in the village and beyond. An adulterous daughter who was a wanted woman – that would be enough to send most mothers into shaking fits of fear. Judith, however, was preoccupied by the loss of a future (and acceptable) son-in-law.

Richard was struck at how quiet everything seemed when Judith stopped talking long enough for him to close his eyes and clear his mind. In doing so, he could shut out the nonsense. They’d elected to disconnect the phone when call after call had started to roll in from various journalists.

They’d had to take refuge in their living room, the curtains drawn, the lights on and the door locked. The press had been able to gain access to the grounds – with wedding guests milling about all over the place, they’d blended in easily enough. The house itself, however, was very squarely locked up and out of bounds.

Both of them sat in their makeshift panic room, access to which was only granted by a secret knock, known only to the family. Having hundreds of people swarming around outside would – in theory – also provide sufficient cover for Amy to get back into the house. She knew how to get in through a gate in the walled garden at the side of the house. There was sufficient hedge cover to the basement, where family members took turns waiting for a knock.

Richard was sure that once the police realised Amy’s innocence, they’d let her go and the press would drain away. The family solicitor, fortunately a guest at the wedding, was on hand to deliver a statement should it be needed. After that, the local furore would die down. All they’d have left to deal with was the unappetising reality that Amy had betrayed her partner – a man Richard had rather taken to in the brief time that they’d known each other.

“I just can’t believe she’s done it,” whimpered Judith. “Poor Tom. He’s so… did you see him? He looked devastated. His face was awash with confusion and … oh, how could she?”

Richard felt that Judith should, perhaps, have more sympathy for her daughter – the woman who was currently being questioned by police.

“Yes, I know,” he said. “But surely, our priority is Amy and her well-being? She’s in a police station right now.”

Judith seemed irritated at Richard’s short-sighted view. “I’m well aware of that,” she snapped back. “Do you think the fact that our daughter is implicated in a drug scandal and is currently in a police station being treated like a common criminal hasn’t factored in my thoughts?” Richard looked back at her, castigated. “But we both know that Amy is innocent,” Judith continued. “That girl can’t organise a social diary, let alone be part of a drug ring. Whoever this ‘Samuel’ is, he’s duped, conned, wooed and lied to her, and she’s fallen for his charms. The real issue is whether we can repair the damage done to her relationship with Tom.”

“We?” said Richard, his eyebrows aloft. Judith sent him a glance that said, “Yes, we.” “And doesn’t it bother you that we have newspapers outside that gate trying to get her photo?” he asked.

Judith turned back to look at her husband. “No, it doesn’t. She’s innocent. They’ll find that out soon enough. When they do, she’ll become a victim. People always feel sorry for a victim. Maybe Tom will.”

Richard balked. “People feel sorry for a victim when the victim hasn’t betrayed them.”

There was a startling truth to that fact, one that was ultimately indisputable.

“She’s been a very silly girl,” Judith said, as if Amy had taken a lift from a stranger and been sent to bed without any dinner.

Both Judith and Richard jumped as the recognised knock came to the door. Judith raced over and turned the long, dark, metal key that protected them from the baying mob outside. The door made a resounding ‘thunk’ noise as the lock mechanism turned and it swung open.

“Oh, it’s you,” Judith said as Adam appeared at the door.

Adam ignored the less-than-solicitous welcome and walked in. “She’s on her way back now – Tom just called.” The news hung in the air, as it was, as yet, meaningless. Was she in trouble or not? “She’s been released without charge.”

Judith turned to her husband, her eyes brimming with tears. Her sigh was of an Olympic scale. “I knew she was innocent. I knew it!” she gasped.

Richard took a very deep breath and smiled. Although they were both sure of their daughter’s complete innocence, having it officially confirmed was of significant relief.

“They’re saying on the TV that she’s talked to the police of her own accord and handed hers
elf in voluntarily,” Adam added.

“Well, we know that!” said Judith testily.

Adam smiled back his irritation. “Yes, we know it – now, they’re telling everyone else. Also, I’ve noticed that there are fewer press people about than there were. There’s also less champagne, as they’ve ploughed their way through it! Some reporter on TV was saying that Amy was just an innocent caught up in the whole affair, and that, privately, the police are saying she’s of no further interest to them.”

Judith slumped into a chair and exhaled her relief. “They’re on their way back?” she said, as if mistrusting the information. Adam nodded.

“How did Tom sound?” asked Richard.

“Erm…” Adam wasn’t sure what to say. “Relieved, tired, a bit fed up, really. I mean…”

They all nodded in agreement. He needed to say no more.

“Did you speak to Amy?” asked Judith.

Adam shook his head. “Nope, Tom called from inside the police station. They were clambering out of a back door to get to the car unnoticed. At that point, the news about Amy wasn’t out.” They all sighed. “Also…” Adam’s tone changed, his voice betraying signs of trepidation. “I think I’ve just signed Amy up to a bit of a kiss-and-tell with a paper.”

Richard rocketed to his feet. “WHAT?” he shouted, making Judith jump. “Adam, what were you thinking? You have no right to do that!”

Adam gestured for everyone to calm down. He smiled at them. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he said. “It’s only with the parish magazine. The vicar at the wedding asked if he could interview her to help raise funds for the church roof, and I said I was sure that she’d be only too happy to help.”

“Oh,” Richard said, feeling foolish. “Good man,” he offered. “At least some good will come of this.”

Judith looked up. “The wedding! I’d stopped thinking about that – how is it? Is everyone alright? How’s your sister, Adam? Has all of this ruined everything?” She put her hand to her mouth pensively.

“Well, I had a word with the groom and the best man, and we agreed that the best policy was to make sure that the champagne doesn’t run out. So, everyone seems happy. The service, what I saw of it, was beautiful. You’d have been proud. But don’t worry, they all understood why you weren’t there. Obviously.” Judith nodded appreciatively. “Anyway, I’ll go and see if I can find out anything more – I’ll be back in two shakes. I’ll see if I can find some champagne, too.”

Unlocking the door, Adam slid out into the hallway as Judith turned the key behind him. Richard walked towards the thick curtains and prised them open a fraction. He looked either side and then opened them fully.

BOOK: The Beard
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