Shaping the Ripples (4 page)

“Hello, Jack,” she said, and moved aside to invite me into the house. I noticed that since I’d last seen her, she’d had her long blonde hair cut into a short bob. I complimented her on it as we walked into the living room.

“Thanks,” she smiled properly for the first time. “I wanted to do something to show that this is the new me.”

I sat back in the chair. “I wanted to come and see you for a couple of reasons. First, and most important, how's it going?”

For the next few minutes, I listened as Linda talked animatedly about how happy and fulfilled she was. We’d managed to find her a lodging with one of the teachers of the local school, and they had become firm friends. She loved her job, and working with the children of the school had meant that she’d quickly got to know a large proportion of the villagers. In a short time, she felt at the heart of a small but supportive community. I sat, savouring her enthusiasm and thinking once again what a privilege this part of my job was.

If anything, she’d inadvertently made the second part of my visit more difficult. Once her story had drawn to a close, I took a deep breath and spoke,

“I’m delighted everything’s going so well. There is another reason for my visit though.”

Linda looked at me expectantly.

“I had a visit yesterday from Ryan.” Her expression changed instantly to a look of apprehension. “He wanted to know where you’re living.” At this, she couldn’t contain her anxiety, and blurted out,

“You didn’t tell him!”

“No, of course not,” I replied, “we wouldn’t ever do that. But I did promise that I’d come and tell you what he said, and bring you a letter from him.”

I then recounted our brief meeting, and Ryan’s words about the help he was getting to deal with his anger. When I’d finished, I handed her Ryan’s letter. Then I sat back in silence as she opened it and began to read.

The letter covered most of three pages, and as she read it tears began to squeeze out from her eyes, and roll down her cheeks. When she’d finished, she looked up at me and asked,

“Do you think I should go back to him?”

I hesitated for a moment before answering, “Obviously I don’t know what he says in the letter, but I think you’d be taking an enormous risk if you did. Especially when you’re so happy living here, it’s an awful lot to give up in the hope that he really has changed.”

Linda’s eyes were still moist as she looked at me. “He says how sorry he is, and that he’s changed – that he loves me and that he’d never hurt me again.”

Her face took on a slightly distant expression, “You know, it was almost a relief when he hit me,” she continued. “When we first got married he was so charming, so attentive. Before long though, I could tell there was something badly wrong. There’s a sort of rage inside him, just waiting to boil over. I’d spent so long being scared that one day it would all come out in my direction. When it did, even while he was hitting me, I just thought that I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life being scared.”

She focussed back on me, “I still really love him, but I don’t believe that he’ll ever get properly free from that rage. I can’t spend the rest of my life waiting for the next eruption.” Her voice became stronger, “I won’t live like that again.”

Linda fell silent, still looking at me. “Then that’s what I’ll tell him,” I replied, “that you wish him well, but that you’ve moved on, and it’s time for him to try and do the same.”

Linda looked anxious again, “Be careful,” she said in a warning tone, “he’s not going to like it. He often says that he never forgets and never forgives when someone crosses him. If he can’t get at me, he might decide that you’ll do as the next best thing.”

“Don’t worry,” I smiled at her with slightly more confidence than I was actually feeling, “I can look after myself. In any case, if he’s still clinging on to the hope that you might change your mind, he’ll not want to lose his temper in front of me.”

I gave her my home phone number in case she ever needed anything, and then wished her luck as we said goodbye. Back in the car, I planned my route back so that I could do another couple of visits before returning to the office.

By the time I’d made my two calls – one successful, the other finding no one home – parked my car again at the garage at home and walked to work, it was early afternoon. George was sitting in Reception with a wide smile on his face.

“Yesterday’s visits must have gone well,” I observed “you look as if you’ve just won the lottery.”

“On the contrary,” George replied, “I got exactly the same negative response as always.”

I wasn’t really in the mood for guessing games. “Well something’s cheered you up.” I said.

His faced cracked into an even more enormous smile. “Ian Jacobs rang me this morning.” He looked at me, clearly expecting some sort of reaction, and then realising from my blank expression that some further explanation was needed.

“Ian Jacobs,” he repeated with more emphasis. “He’s the current chairman of the Executive’s Club, and one of the most influential businessmen in York. He rang to say that he’s heard about the good work we do, and wondered if there was anything he could do to support us.”

I made suitably enthusiastic noises and George continued. “This could be the break we’ve been looking for – if Ian Jacobs is on our side, it will give me a way in to almost all the businesses in the city. I’m having dinner with him this evening to talk things over.”

George is by nature an enthusiast, which is what helps him to cope with the almost constant rejection that his job entails. Even so, I was hard pressed to remember a time when he’d looked quite so excited and happy. I just hoped that this Ian Jacobs might live up to George’s expectations.

“When you see him, see if he’ll give you some money to have this place redecorated.” I joked.

Towards the end of the afternoon I was working in one of the consulting rooms, when there was a knock on the door. Katie’s head peered around the frame of the door.

“There’s someone in reception to see you, Jack.” She said with a slight frown and wrinkle of her nose. “He seems a bit on edge.”

I knew at once who my visitor was going to be, and went out to greet him without much enthusiasm. Sure enough, it was Ryan Clarke, and I led him through to the consulting room.

“Have you seen her yet?” he demanded as soon as the door was closed.

“Yes, I have – I went to see her this morning.” I replied, sitting down, and waiting for him to do the same.

“How is she?” he asked, slightly calmer.

“She’s fine, Ryan.” I searched for the kindest way to break the news to him. “She’s well and she asked me to tell you that she still loves you and thinks of you often.” I hesitated for a minute to allow him to absorb that before continuing, “But she’s not coming back.”

Ryan’s whole body went rigid, and then he fixed me with desperate eyes.

“That can’t be true.” He insisted. “Did you give her my letter?” Seeing me nod in assent, he continued before I could speak. “Did you tell her what I’d said, about getting help and that I was different now?”

“I told her, Ryan.” I responded. “She’s really pleased that you’re dealing with your anger and she said to tell you that she only wishes you well. But she’s got her own life now, and she wants you to get on with yours.”

In counselling, it’s considered bad practice to have a desk or table between the two people talking, so the furniture in the consulting room had been arranged to ensure that the chair I was sitting in is to the side of the desk, directly facing the other chair. Normally it’s an arrangement I’m happy with but just at that moment, seeing the growing fury in Ryan’s eyes, I would have felt more relaxed if there was a solid desk between us.

“Liar!” He spat out. “She’d never choose to leave me for good unless someone had turned her against me. I bet you didn’t try to persuade her at all. That’s what places like this are all about isn’t it, splitting up happy marriages?”

“Ryan,” I said, trying to get him to face reality “it was Linda who decided to leave you after you’d hit her, and it’s Linda who had to choose whether or not to come back to you.”

“She wouldn’t have had a choice if it hadn’t been for you interfering and filling her head with all sorts of crap!” He was almost screaming now, and I could see what Linda had meant his rage. “Tell me where my wife is so I can go and sort this out face to face!”

“I can’t do that, Ryan,” I replied “If Linda ever wants you to know where she is, she’ll write and tell you.”

His face suddenly contorted and he leapt out of his seat towards me. Grabbing me by the lapels of my jacket, he pulled me to my feet. His face was just inches from mine, his eyes wild and staring. At this range, there was an almost overpowering smell of stale whisky fumes on his breath, disproving his earlier claim that he’d given up drinking.

“Maybe I should just kick the shit out of you until you tell me where she is!” he bellowed, tightening his grip still further.

I kept my gaze fixed on him and replied in as even a voice as I could manage,

“You can try, but I’m not going to tell you whatever happens. Besides which, you’re not exactly going to convince her that you’re a changed man by having to spend time in prison on an assault charge.”

His grip loosened slightly, and his breath came heavily as he considered my words.

“You must have a file here somewhere,” Ryan murmured, almost speaking to himself. Then his expression hardened and his voice became more menacing, “Take me to where you keep your files and I’ll look for myself. Otherwise you’re going to be eating your next meal through a straw.”

“We don’t keep people’s addresses in their files.” I lied. “Get this into your head – you are not going to find out Linda’s address. All you’re going to do is get yourself into trouble with the police, and that won’t help you at all.”

I reached up and, taking hold of his wrists, pulled his hands away from me. Ryan stood motionless, fury still in his eyes, and for a moment I was sure that he was going to attack me.

Before I could find out, the door to the consulting room flew open, and Katie stood in the doorway.

“What the hell is going on in here?” she demanded, staring coolly at Ryan. His eyes flickered between her and me, uncertainty and frustration written all over his face. Eventually he spoke, looking at Katie.

“All right,” he muttered, “all right, I’m going.” His eyes turned back to me, and now there was a look of sheer hatred in them. “But you’d better watch your back from now on. Because sooner or later I’ll be there, ready to get even with you. I’m not going to rest until I’ve destroyed your life, just like you’ve destroyed mine.”

He span around and, pushing past Katie, hurried out of the door. Katie moved across the room, looking concerned.

“Are you alright Jack?” she asked.

I smiled at her, “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for trying to rush to my rescue though.”

She still looked worried, “You ought to phone the police, anyway – tell them about the threats he made.”

I shook my head, “No, there’s no need. His wife tells me he often explodes, but regrets it later. He’s very hurt and upset at the moment, but he’ll calm down soon enough.”

“If you’re sure,” Katie said, “but he sounded as if he meant what he was saying to me.”

“He probably did at the time, but it’ll wear off.” I tried to make a joke of it, “Of course if I turn up dead in a gutter, you’ll know I was wrong.”

Instead of laughing, she moved towards me. “Don’t say that.” She admonished, and took hold of my hand. As her cool, soft hand closed on mine, I suddenly felt as if I’d been wired up to the electricity supply. I was unexpectedly swamped with an enormous wave of warmth and contentment.

Looking into Kate’s beautiful green eyes, for a moment I thought I could see something there, as if she had felt the same thing. If there was something, it was gone in an instant, and I told myself it had only been in my imagination.

She let go of my hand, and just for a moment it felt as if I’d had a limb removed. “As long as you’re OK then,” she said in a voice which seemed slightly unsteady, and left the room.

I sat down, staring at the door. If anything, I felt far more unsettled by the last couple of minutes, than by the whole encounter with Ryan Clarke.

Chapter Five

The next morning, I woke up early and decided that I might as well go straight in to work. Deep down my plan was to get there well before the others, and be shut safely away in a room before Katie arrived. I needed to sort things out in my own mind before I was ready to see her. At the same time, I do especially enjoy the walk to work when the pavements and streets are relatively silent.

This day, I decided to go the slightly longer route. At one time, I almost always walked this way, up Tower Street and past the fascinating windows of the Museum of Automata, with their array of mechanical music boxes and toys. Since the museum had shut down though, the walk had lost a lot of its appeal. It still had a few highlights, including the Castle Museum, built out of the old prison which had once been home to Dick Turpin. It also passed Clifford’s Tower that, as the only bit of the original castle left, had the dubious honour of being home to some of the bloodiest bits of York’s history, including a Jewish massacre and several executions. Today it helped to keep my mind occupied looking at the familiar landmarks and recalling their history.

I turned down Friargate, and back onto the waterfront. As expected, I was the first to arrive at work, so I unlocked and switched off the alarm. Today was my turn to deal with any emergencies coming in, which would hopefully mean a quiet day. I decided to use the time to go through the files, and plan my visits for the weeks leading up to Christmas.

About an hour or so later, I heard the main door open and after a few moments, Barbara popped her head round the door to say good morning. She also told me that Katie was out for the morning on visits. I knew that I was probably being silly, but I felt a sense of relief at the news. I had made the decision when Liz left that I was better off living alone for the rest of my life, but the touch of Katie’s hand had stirred up feelings I thought were long since dead and buried. I told myself that the strong response I’d had to her touch was simply due to the fact that it was an awfully long time since I’d had any sort of physical contact with an attractive young woman. I was reading far too much into something that was nothing more than a gesture of concern and friendship. Even so, it was going to take me a little while to get back to seeing her as just a work colleague.