The Toll Bridge (35 page)

Throughout the ordeal Bob Norris bridged the gap between us and everybody else. Jan's admiration and liking for him deepened. Not that Bob wasn't upset, furious even, but typical of him, in front of us at least, he was calm, amenable, unruffled.

After the police left he held his own interrogation, guessing there was more to the story than we had let on. We told him about the party, about Gill, about Adam being unconscious all night, about his desperation after he came to, and we explained what we had planned to do. Bob pursed his lips now and then, shook his head, huffed, smiled at our various panics, but took everything in without comment. As for us, we were glad to talk to someone older who we could trust. We both felt a great weight lifted from us and – though we would not have admitted it – relief that it was over.

Tess and Jan spent the rest of that Sunday huddled together by the fire, and went over everything again and again. They snacked but ate little. Two or three times they walked through the still falling snow to the village phone and called the hospital, always to be told that Adam was ‘comfortable but not allowed visitors'.

They parted reluctantly late that evening, Tess not wanting to face the family's questions, Jan not wanting to be alone. But they had no choice and they ended the day in an empty exhausted silence before Tess plodded off, her feet crunching and squeaking on the crisp snow while Jan watched the beam of her flashlight to the bend in the road, from where she shone it back at him and blinked it off/on, off/on in a final farewell.

Monday. Snow thick on the ground, reflecting the dawn light up into the bedroom and filling the room with an unfamiliar glow.

Jan was up early, unable to lie still. The river was oiled metal edged with frayed lace. Bird and animal tracks criss-crossed the white blanket of the garden, surprising in number, a crowd had they all visited at once.

The comfort of daily routines got him through. But he was heartsick for Adam.

In her room at home Tess was also awake, but she stayed where she was, curled up in bed, horrified by what she had seen at the bridge and wishing and wondering and regretting and berating herself. She got up and left for school at the last possible moment. Because of the snow she took the bus, so didn't see Jan that morning. She passed a dreary abstracted day, only half aware of the excitements caused by the snow and taking nothing in during lessons. Her friends, dying to talk about the party, quickly learned not to try. During the dinner hour her period started, relieving her mind of at least one worry.

Bob Norris turned up at the bridge early that afternoon. Jan could tell from his face there was bad news.

‘Adam?'

‘Haven't phoned this morning. You?'

‘No.'

Bob sat at the table, refused coffee, asked how Jan was, talked about the weather, the state of the roads. Then silence.

Jan waited; Bob always took his time. When he was ready he said with strained quietness,

‘There's something I have to tell you.'

‘Yes?'

‘To do with the estate.'

‘They've found a buyer for the house.'

‘Worse than that.'

‘Worse?'

‘The whole estate.'

‘All of it?'

‘The lot – lock, stock and toll bridge.'

‘Dear God! When?'

‘Last week. Huge multinational. Plan to build their new European headquarters here.'

‘But that means . . .' Jan tried to grasp the implications.

‘The whole area will be affected. Lot of new building. New jobs as well of course.'

Jan took a deep breath. ‘So what happens now?'

‘I've instructions to tell you that your job will officially end on the last day of this month. You'll be sent a letter in the next couple of days.'

Jan could think of nothing to say. Like anyone who's been sacked, he felt like chattel, a powerless object to be discarded at will, that his time at the bridge had been wasted.

Bob went on, ‘Traditionally, if you'll pardon me for using a rude word,
traditionally
no tolls are taken from Christmas Eve till the second of January. You were going home for that week anyway so you might as well pack up and leave for good on Friday. Sooner, if you like. The extra few days won't matter. And the new manager says he won't object.'

It took a moment for this to sink in. When it did, Jan said, ‘The new manager?'

‘Arrived this morning.'

‘But you're –'

‘Redundant.'

‘But they can't!'

‘They can and they have. All very proper and legal, redundancy settlement and all that. And they've been generous enough to give me three months to find somewhere else to live. Our house belongs to the estate of course.'

‘The bastards!'

‘Welcome to the real world, son.'

‘Is it?'

‘You'll see.'

‘No. There has to be a better real than that.'

‘Oh? Let me know when you've found it. In the meantime, the new boss has a job or two for me so I'd better stir me stumps.'

Neither moved. They stared across the table at each other.

‘You must be devastated,' Jan said.

‘It's not unexpected. I thought something like this might happen as soon as the major brought in the estate agent. And there've been men in Jags and expensive suits up at the house quite a lot lately. So it isn't the shock it might have been. The major's come up trumps as well, I'll give him that. He'll cover us for a new house wherever we decide to live.'

‘So he bloody should after the years your family's given him. Cheap at the price!'

Bob smiled. ‘Bolshie.'

‘Well, it's true. He'll come off all right, I'll bet.'

‘Won't be short of a penny, that's for sure. But at least I'll not be as badly hit as a lot of men in my position.'

‘What'll you do, though? Retire?'

‘Lord, no! Not ready for the geriatric ward yet. The wife says I should use some of the redundancy to set up on my own – jobbing work. She says people are always complaining they can't find reliable men for small jobs – repairs, maintenance, a bit of building and decorating. But I don't know. Running your own business isn't all it's cracked up to be. And anyway, the paperwork would get me down. Don't mind hard work, but writing letters and filling forms and keeping the accounts. No no, not for me.'

They were silent again before Bob said, ‘And what about you? What'll you do?'

‘Go home, I suppose, what else? Don't want to, not to stay. Made the break, don't want to go back.'

‘Take a tip from me. Finish school, get yourself to university. A good education is the best start you can give yourself. That's what I didn't have. Wouldn't be in this predicament now if I'd had an education. And don't give me that sour look.'

Jan managed a smile.

Bob stood up. ‘I'd best be off,' he said and made for the door. ‘Let's know which day you decide you'll go. The wife says come for dinner before you leave. We've liked having you around. Oh, and by the way,' he added as if an afterthought, ‘brought you this.'

He took a small brown-paper parcel from his pocket and put it on the table.

‘What is it?'

‘Memento. Christmas present. Something of that sort. See you later.'

Inside, wrapped in bubble pack and layers of tissue, was the prayer mug with its two-faced Janus.

Tess heard the news from her mother when she came home from school. She arrived at the bridge blazing. Jan had never seen her in such a megaton rage before. It both frightened and exhilarated him.

When her anger had vented itself they turned their minds to thinking what to do next. Jan's main concern was Adam. All day long he had been nagged by worry about him.

‘I can't decide what to do myself till I know what's happening to him.'

‘You've rung the hospital?'

‘This afternoon. Same story: comfortable but no visitors. I rang the police as well. Nothing. They'll let me know, et cetera. Can't reveal any details, the case still under investigation.'

‘You want to see him, is that it?'

‘Course I do. Want to know how he is and want him to tell me who he is and what's been going on. Don't you?'

‘Don't just
want
to know.
Need
to know. That's right, isn't it?'

‘Yes.'

‘So we'll find out.'

‘How?'

‘Go to the hospital. There's bound to be a visiting time in the evening.'

‘But he isn't allowed visitors.'

‘Oh dear oh dear, we didn't know, what a pity, and we've come all this way just to see him, we're close friends of his, he was staying with us when he had his . . . accident, couldn't we just wave to him through the window or something? . . . What d'you think?'

‘Won't work.'

‘Wimp!'

‘Bully!'

‘Defeatist!'

‘Who said there'd be no wars if women were in charge?'

‘Sexist. We can at least
try.
And it'll be better than hanging round in this condemned cell all night, I'd just go
mad
!'

The reception area was busy.

‘Hang on,' Tess said. ‘Let's weigh things up before we take the plunge.'

‘Must be the strain.'

‘What?'

‘Makes you talk in clichés.'

‘Don't start,
please
!'

They stood against a wall opposite the reception desk, to one side of which was a notice board listing the wards.

‘Know which ward he's in?'

‘Seven.'

‘Fifth floor.'

Some visitors went to the reception desk, others, knowing their way, went straight to the lifts. Almost everyone was carrying hospitalish gifts.

‘Ought to have some flowers or something,' Tess said. ‘We'd look more convincing.'

‘Maybe if I limped they'd think I was a patient.'

‘Maybe if I gave you a tweak you'd shut up and follow me.'

They made their way to the lifts and took the next one to the fifth floor.

‘Look confident,' Tess said as they approached the ward. ‘That's the secret.'

‘Not good at acting.'

‘Leave the talking to me.'

‘You're enjoying this! I'll never understand women.'

‘Not women. Me.'

At the nurses' desk they waited behind a family of four – anxious parents, two bored children of about seven – while the ward sister chatted about their relative. A nursing aide was filing papers and eavesdropping; she glanced at Tess and Jan but did not speak.

The family disposed of, Sister turned her professional smile on Tess.

‘We're here to see –' Tess began and dried, suddenly realizing she didn't know what to call Adam.

‘Adam,' Jan said quickly, anticipating the dilemma and knowing fom his phone calls that this name worked.

But Sister looked from one to the other, puzzled. ‘Adam?'

‘The boy in C2,' the aide said.

‘Oh, him. Poor lad! Yes. You're too late, I'm afraid. They took him away about an hour ago.'

‘Took him away?' Jan said.

‘Where?' Tess said.

‘Who took him?'

Sister was wary. ‘Are you family?'

‘Yes,' Tess said.

‘No,' Jan said. ‘No, not exactly. We were with him when he had his accident. He was staying with us.'

‘I'm sorry,' Sister said. ‘I can't tell you anything. Not allowed. It's a police matter, you see. Nothing I can do.'

Jan said, ‘Was it the police who took him?'

‘And a doctor. Now, that's all I can tell you. You really will have to ask the police.'

They retreated into the corridor.

Jan said, ‘I don't believe this. They can't just cart him off and not tell us. What the hell's going on?'

They made for the lift.

‘I'm going to the police station,' Jan said, pressing the button.

As they waited, too bewildered to speak, the nursing aide came hurrying up to them and said, ‘Can I have a word with you?'

She led them through swing doors marked
EXIT: STAIRS
.

‘You're Jan and Tess?'

They nodded. The nurse produced an envelope from the side pocket of her uniform. ‘He asked me to post this to you. I shouldn't. There'll be trouble if you tell. I was going to bring it, to make sure.'

‘We won't,' Jan said.

‘No, we won't,' Tess said.

‘He was such a nice kid. His name was Aston Davies, by the way.'

‘But where've they taken him?' Jan said.

‘Norton Psychiatric Unit. It's near Leeds, a special detention unit for disturbed young offenders. Look, I've got to get back.'

She was gone before either of them could even thank her.

They made themselves wait till they were on the bus home before opening the envelope.

As Jan pulled out a folded A4 page Adam's silver chain slithered onto his lap.

Have to be quick, coming for me soon. Wish you had not stopped me, it is my life, I should be let do what I want with it, I am not fit to live. You were good to me though Jan you tried to help me and I want to thank you and the nurse who gives you this who is nice says I should explain if I really mean it. I do not know how to start, so many things to tell and the main thing that happened is not the only thing.

The main thing is I killed another boy. Did not mean to, it just happened. That is what all we murderers say I expect. 14 then, 17 now, was playing with a gang of other boys, seven of us, larking about with a tennis ball, playing a game, I do not remember what but it had winners and losers and the losers had to give a penalty. I lost and would not give the penalty, I was fed up of losing, I was always losing. The boy who was the leader, he was called Tony, he was older, about 16, was always making snide remarks about me and this time I would not pay the penalty, I was fed up of him. But the others said I had to and I said no it was stupid and the others said Tony had to make me pay, it was the rule. He said Come on you have to do it and I said get stuffed, who are you anyway, you are just a loser yourself or why are you playing with us. I was up against a wall, and when I said that Tony started tossing the tennis ball at me aiming so it would just miss and bounce back, but I kept saying no and then he started calling me names and tossed the ball harder and harder and closer and closer and then the ball hit me in the face. It didn't really hurt, I started swearing at him and crying and I picked up a pebble, threw it at him and he said Come on cry baby you aren't hurt, and threw a stone and the other kids started throwing them as well and after that it all got out of hand. They started throwing bigger and bigger stones, anything they could find. I do not remember much about the rest except I chucked the stones harder and harder back at them and they came closer and closer so I
ducked to the side where one of the smaller kids was standing and grabbed him and held him in front of me to protect myself, I thought they would stop then, but they didn't, they just kept on, and I don't know what happened then, I must have flipped or something, I was not seeing anything, it was just a red blur, but in the end the boy I grabbed was on the ground and I was beating him in the head with a big rock in both hands which I only know because it is what the other boys said in court.