Journey’s End. Josephine Cox
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Название: Journey’s End
Автор: Josephine Cox
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
isbn: 9780007369690
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‘I’d watch what you say if I were you.’ The coalman gave a naughty wink. ‘There’s many a man might take advantage of a remark like that.’
‘You behave yerself, Bert Peters!’ Elsie chided. ‘I’m too old in the tooth to be flirting with the likes of you – and besides, if I were to pounce on you now, you’d run a mile. Don’t deny it!’
Bert roared with laughter. ‘Aye, an’ if you were to pounce on me now, I’d more likely collapse. I’ve carried that many bags o’ coal today, me legs ’ave gone.’
Back in Knudsden House, Lucy heard their shrieks of laughter echo across the valley, and couldn’t help but smile. The world might be crumbling round your ears, she thought, but somehow, life went on.
Her thoughts returned to what Adam had said earlier, and her mind was made up.
Suddenly she knew what she must do. She looked up to the heavens, a deep yearning for peace flooding her heart. ‘I will go back and face the demons,’ she declared. ‘Maybe then, I can find some kind of peace.’
It would not be easy, she knew that. It had been a lifetime since she had travelled that particular road. When she left that familiar and much-loved place, she left behind a wealth of laughter, sun-filled days and happiness. The pain she took with her, for it had never gone away.
Her train of thought turned to the monster who had snuffed out her baby’s life.
‘Edward Trent, may you rot in Hell for what you did! You murdered your own son!’
She had no idea where he was. After the tragedy he had fled into the darkness of the night, and was never heard of again.
Many times over the years, Lucy had prayed that, somehow, he had been made to pay for the evil thing he did.
In the beginning, the hatred had eaten into her very soul, but now as the years caught up with her, after World War Two had changed everybody’s lives forever, she had learned not to let it rule her life. By contrast, with the passing of time, memories of Barney and the personal sacrifice he had made grew ever stronger; as did the need to put things right before it was too late.
She thought of how it had been, and her heart was sore. ‘I’m going back, Barney,’ she murmured. ‘Then I’m going to tell it all, to try and bring a measure of peace to Vicky, and the children.’
First, though, there was someone she needed to see.
THE GOVERNOR WAS busy poring over official documents when the knock came on the door. ‘Yes, who is it?’
The prison officer told him, ‘I’ve got Carter with me now, sir.’
At once the Governor’s face betrayed his repugnance. ‘Right! Let’s have him.’
Momentarily disappearing, the prison officer threw open the door and thrusting Edward Carter inside, positioned him before the desk. ‘All right, Carter! Stand up straight!’ he growled. Digging him in the back with the flat of his hand, he pushed the prisoner forward.
For a seemingly long time, the Governor remained in his seat, his head bent and his long bony finger flicking over the pages of his document. He neither spoke nor looked up.
When, beginning to tire, the prisoner lolled to one side, his hands sliding deep into his pockets, he was caught up short by another dig in the back, this time rougher and more meaningful.
Without raising his head, the Governor peered over his rimless spectacles. ‘Remember where you are, Carter. Hands out of your pockets … NOW!’ he ordered.
Wary of this new Governor, who had already proved himself to be a harsh disciplinarian, the man quickly did as he was told. After all, he had secrets to hide. Moreover, he had almost served his time and did not want to jeopardise his date of release.
Intending to unnerve the prisoner, the Governor continued to stare at him, his observant gaze taking in every detail of the man: the strong, stocky build, the inherent arrogance, the thick shock of greying hair and the deeply-etched lines on the once-young and handsome face.
Here was a puzzle, he thought. Carter was a devious cunning sort, capable of anything, a man seemingly without a background; though if it was ever uncovered, it would probably betray him as an evil and merciless creature.
While the Governor studied the prisoner, the prisoner did the same in return. He observed the lank dark hair and the small beady eyes behind the spectacles; the long sinuous fingers now drumming on the desktop, racking his nerves and sending a ripple of murderous intent through his every sense. There were many men inside this prison he would like to strangle, but the greatest pleasure would come from feeling his hands round the Governor’s slender white throat.
His train of thought was abruptly broken as the Governor smiled directly into his face. ‘You’d like to kill me, wouldn’t you, Carter?’ he asked tantalisingly. ‘You’d love to get your two big hands round my throat and squeeze the life out of me. I’m right, aren’t I? You hate me so much you can taste it.’
Gulping so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, the prisoner lowered his gaze, his thoughts going wild. Jesus! How did he know that? He must be a bloody mind-reader … but he was right. The prospect of choking him until he stopped breathing filled him with excitement.
The scraping of a chair told him the Governor was standing up. He could feel the coldness of his gaze as it fell on him. ‘Look at me, Carter.’ The sound of air being drawn through his nose was oddly loud in that warm, uncomfortable room. ‘LOOK AT ME, I SAY!’
Carter looked up. ‘Sir!’
The Governor came close, so close his smoke-stained breath fanned the prisoner’s face. ‘You broke both his legs, Carter.’ The voice was almost tender. ‘You went into the showers and broke both his legs. Why would you do a thing like that?’
The big man looked up. ‘I didn’t do it. I never touched him.’
‘Liar!’
‘No, sir. I’m no liar.’
‘So you say.’ The Governor put his hands behind his back and strolled about for a while, eventually coming up behind the prisoner. ‘If you didn’t do it, who did?’
‘Don’t know, sir. It pays to keep yourself to yourself in this place. All I know is, it weren’t me.’
‘You were seen.’
‘No, sir. It weren’t nothing to do with me.’
‘There was a witness, Carter! You were seen … slithering into the space beside him. One minute he was washing, and the next he was writhing on the floor and you were gone.’
‘No, sir!’ As he glanced up, rage fired his eyes. If ever he found out who had grassed on him, he’d slit their throat without a second thought. ‘Who was it, sir? Who lied about it being me?’
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