Even Angels Fall (42 page)

Abbey is about to say something but stops herself as she hears a low murmur from inside the kitchen. She feels a rush of panic and grabs hold of Alex’s arm. Surely they haven’t returned home to a trap? Is Marcus in there waiting for them? But as she strains harder to listen, her breathing steadies when she recognizes the familiar voice. Alex opens the door and as they step inside, Lucy, Liam and Nathan all turn in unison. They are sitting around the glass table where Moorland and his men were gathered just two nights earlier and after a brief pause as the realisation sinks in, Lucy dives out of her seat and launches herself across the room. She throws her arms around both Alex and Abbey, almost knocking them over with the force of her hug.

Abbey’s mood instantly lifts as she is overcome with happiness and relief. She had been focusing so hard on her and Alex’s relationship - revelling in the fact that they were so far away from home and all of their troubles - that she had buried her feelings for her friends and pushed everything else to the back of her mind. It is only now, as Lucy is hanging off her neck refusing to let go, that she realizes just how much she has missed them.

“Hey Luc…” Abbey just about manages to choke out, and she finally takes a step back as Nathan and Liam look on, amused but also seemingly relieved.

“Don’t you two ever, ever leave like that again OK?” She practically yells, and Alex gently drapes his arm over her shoulders, kissing her on the top of the head.

“We won’t…” He smiles, and Abbey and Alex hug Liam and Nathan in turn as Gemma appears in the hallway, lingering sheepishly by the door.

“Are you OK?” She asks.

“Yeah, we’re fine…” Alex replies hesitantly, “How are you?”

“Better. Better now you guys are back…” She smiles timidly and he crosses the room, pulling her into a comforting embrace which she returns. Things seem to be looking up already.

“So where did you guys get to?” Liam asks.

“Ireland…” Abbey replies, smiling at Alex as they both think back to their perfect little escape, “We hired a cottage by the sea, went for walks on the beach, ate in every night… it was nice…”

“Sounds like a riot…” Liam laughs mockingly and Abbey punches him on the shoulder in protest.

“It was a nice change of pace…” Alex agrees and Liam pulls an ‘I never had you down for the quiet life’ kind of expression. If only he knew what Alex had confessed to her while they were over there? Maybe in time they will see the difference in him for themselves, if he sticks to his word and actually makes those changes. That remains to be seen.

“Well, you obviously had a better time of it than we did. Liam’s cousin, god bless him for putting us up, but seriously, to say he isn’t the cleanliest of guys would be a major understatement…!” Lucy screws up her nose as if visualising an unwanted memory and shakes her head in disgust.

“After three weeks it was starting to get a bit much…” Nathan nods in agreement, “We were getting a little stir crazy…”

“Yeah I can imagine…” Alex sighs, “I really am sorry for having to ask you to do this…”

“Well, it’s over now…” Lucy practically sings and Abbey can’t refrain from hugging her again. She has missed her bubbly, infectious optimism more than she can say.

“And everything can go back to normal…” Abbey adds cheerfully, but instead of being met with reassuring smiles and agreement from the others, Lucy, Liam, Nathan and Gemma all look down at the feet, shifting nervously.

“Almost…” Gemma whispers sadly and Alex stares at each of them in turn.

“What is it?” He asks, but before any of them can answer the battered front door creaks open and Darren and Sophie appear. Abbey instantly rushes over to Sophie and hugs her tightly as Alex shakes hands with Darren, pulling him forward and slapping him affectionately on the shoulder.

“You alright brother…?” Darren asks, as he takes a step back.

“Yeah… we’re good. It’s good to see you man…”

“You too…” He smiles, but he is visibly apprehensive and despite being happy to see Alex and Abbey home safe, something is clearly troubling him. Alex slowly scans the room again and everyone appears to be avoiding his gaze on purpose, everyone apart from Abbey, who is equally mystified.

“Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on…?” He demands, and Darren reluctantly steps forward.

“It’s Tom…” He replies, sombrely, “He’s looking at nine and a half years…”

T
he transport entrance to Armley Prison is an eerie and unnerving sight. The large green door sits underneath a stone archway that is positioned in the middle of two castle style turrets and the faded brick work and iron clad windows have a dark, medieval look to them. Just off to the side there is a slightly less intimidating entrance which leads into the lobby of the main building.

Alex zips his jacket right up to the collar and thrusts his hands in his pockets in an attempt to block out the cold that is sending a chill right through him. He doesn’t know whether he feels this way due to the miserable weather or because of the empty dread that this place instils in him.

It is 5:30pm on a Wednesday evening and as he listens to the pounding rain hammering down on the roof above, he stares vacantly at the sign standing a few feet to the right that declares this as the ‘Visitor’s Entrance’. The irony isn’t lost on him. He is entering Armley Gaol of his own free will when he should really be wearing the light grey prisoners garb and pacing irritably in his cell. Alex cannot stand the idea of being locked up. Losing his freedom is his worst nightmare and he knows all too well that he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He can’t think of anything worse and his stomach twists with a nervous guilt as he waits in line to see his best friend for the first time in over two months.

Tom is in this position because of him. He got a nine year sentence because he refused to admit that he was working alongside anyone else during the robbery, insisting that he acted alone. In short, he didn’t give Alex or Darren up to the police, which would no doubt have bought him favour with the judge. He took the full responsibility and even if he gets out in half the time on good behaviour, it is still five years of his life that he will never get back.

As Alex reaches the front of the queue he empties his pockets into one of the small, metal lockers and stands with his legs apart and his arms raised. A female prison warden carefully pats him down, first the right side then the left. She checks his documentation against his name on the list and waves him through without a single word. Why is it that people in positions of authority such as prison guards or airport security, always have a way of treating you like a suspect? They look at you as though you’ve done something wrong even when you are following orders and towing the line.

If only she knew the truth.

Alex enters a large, open plan room alongside the other visitors and discreetly picks a table over by the window. It is very basic, with stark white walls and a linoleum floor that squeaks under foot. The numerous benches are set out in orderly rows, each with four chairs arranged neatly around them and there are two hefty looking security guards lurking vigilantly in the background. As the door that leads from the prison block slides open, the inmates file quietly into the room in a regimented fashion. Tom is the last to appear and Alex instantly stands, half raising his hand to catch his attention.

He struggles with a conflicting range of emotion as he watches Tom slowly cross the room, feeling happy, relieved and extremely thankful that he is walking, talking, alive and still breathing; but at the same time, seeing him so uniformed in the standard grey prison sweats and t-shirt makes his heart sink. It is a painful vision and it makes the situation - and his guilt - all the more real.

They smile feebly at one another in an awkward silence as Alex tries to think of something to say, but every form of greeting that runs through his mind seems far too casual and informal. Eventually, at exactly the same moment, they both take a step forward and pull each other into a desperate hug. When they finally break apart they each take a seat and Tom rubs his face with his hands.

“You look like shit…” He jokes and Alex smiles despite himself. God he’s missed him.

“It’s not a patch on how I feel mate…” He answers solemnly and Tom shakes his head at the floor.

“We don’t need to have this conversation Al. I’m not angry; I don’t feel betrayed. You’d have done the same for me if it was the other way round… I know that…” Alex nods earnestly in response. It’s true. Despite how much losing his freedom would destroy Alex he would still go down for Tom if he had to. He would die for him; and he knows that same level of loyalty works both ways. Tom would die for him as well. He almost did.

“How are you holding up…?” Alex asks.

“I’m alright. I had my last hospital visit yesterday and they say I’m fighting fit, so that’s good. I don’t think I’ll be doing back flips anytime soon but I’m healed…” Alex nods again and Tom smiles at his lost, guilt ridden expression, “It really doesn’t matter how many times I tell you this isn’t your fault… does it?” He laughs quietly under his breath.

“Why did you do it you silly bastard…?” Alex sighs in frustration, “Why the fuck did you have to push me out the way?”

“Keep your voice down…” Tom warns, as he glances subtly over his shoulder, checking for the guards that are pacing the room. Thankfully, they are out of earshot.

“Don’t think I’m not fucking pissed off with you for making that call…” Alex snaps, leaning forward and glaring at him irritably. A look of amusement slowly begins to spread across Tom’s face and he throws his hands up in the air in mock indignation.

“Fuck me! You’re welcome you ungrateful prick…” He states - and once again he somehow manages to snap Alex out of his anger. They both end up laughing despite the fact that there is nothing even remotely funny about the situation they find themselves in. It might seem crazy but it is incredibly therapeutic, and Alex wishes more than anything that they were sat outside in The Locke beer garden having this conversation over a cold pint, instead of here in this horrible stale room that smells like crap food and disinfectant. He’d give anything to change this.

“How are the others doing?” Tom asks, once they eventually calm down.

“Now that you’re not banging on death’s door anymore they seem to be doing alright. I hear Gem’s been to see you?”

“Yeah…” Tom laughs, rolling his eyes, “Silly cow had to go and wait until I was banged up to finally admit how she feels, didn’t she? I’ve loved her for years and she tells me now…”

“She’s worth the wait…” Alex notes, instantly flinching at his own words as they take on a dual meaning.

“That she is…” Tom smiles again, but this time there is a hint of sadness in his eyes.

True to form, Tom always knows what Alex is thinking usually before Alex even knows himself, and as the clock ticks down on the hour they have together, they are both fully aware of how this conversation is going to end.

“And all the shit with Marcus?” There is more than a hint of venom in Tom’s voice as he pronounces his name, “It’s over…?”

“It seems to be. Moorland came up and they had words. Marcus is an arrogant prick and he ‘ain’t exactly the sharpest tool in the drawer but even he isn’t stupid enough to cross Moorland. He knows that’s a fight he can’t win…”

“Pays to have friends in high places…”

“Maybe…” Alex shrugs, “I guess we’ll see if it’s made a difference. Either way I’m through with running…”

“Just be careful…” Tom warns, “I can’t watch your back from inside a prison cell…”

“You just look after yourself mate. I need you out of here in one piece…”

“I’ll do my best…” Tom jokes, dryly and the hollowness that Alex feels in the pit of his stomach rises up, consuming him. He wants to grab Tom and break him out of this shit hole. He wants him back home at the flat, listening to his terrible trance music, moaning about his hang over and snoring so loudly that it gives Alex a headache. In all the time they’ve been friends, they have been inseparable. Now they are going to spend at least the next 5 years apart.

The conversation becomes much lighter for the remainder of the visit as they talk about their friends, reminisce about the past and laugh about the good times; remembering the days before everything got so complicated and messed up. Alex savours every moment. It feels so good, just sitting with his best friend, talking and laughing together, especially seen as the last time he saw him he was unconscious in a hospital bed. Despite the agony and hopelessness that Alex feels at Tom being locked up, he is beyond grateful that he is still here. He has absolutely no idea what the hell he would have done if he had been killed.

“Ten minutes please…” One of the guards bellows loudly - and Alex glances at the clock above the door. Why does time always move so fast when you don’t want it to end? He takes a deep breath as Tom stares down at his hands on the table, before leaning back in his chair with a half-smile on his face. He already knows what Alex is about to say and that Alex really doesn’t want to say it, but he has no choice… not really.