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Once on Jason’s street, Nathan parks a good few doors away and waits for him to park and go in. Then he takes a package out of the glove compartment, unwraps it, and slips it into the quilted lining of his zipped jacket. Swiftly, and keeping to the shadows cast by the tree-lined avenue, he makes his way to Jason’s and slips down a ginnel and round the back. From behind the bins in the yard, Nathan sees that a window is open in the kitchen by the back door. He runs to the door and flattens his spine against it. Through the window he hears Jason shout, ‘It’s only me, Mrs W! Got your drugs, love. Do you want a nice cream bun and a cuppa?’

  Nathan hears his mum reply but not what she says; she’s obviously in another part of the house.

  ‘Right, duck! Just going to the bog. Be with you in ten!’

  Excellent. Things couldn’t be going better. The door handle is cool under Nathan’s fingers and he gives it a quick press. No. Locked, as you’d expect. He had to try it though given Jason’s level of intelligence. Slipping round the front, he peeps through the front room window. Yep. There’s Mum watching TV. His heart flips over – she looks no worse for wear, thank God! Two choices present themselves. Get his mum’s attention and make her open the front door, or go back to the kitchen and knock, because barging his way in through the front might catch the eye of a neighbour.

  What to do? Even if he put his finger to his lips in the shush sign, Mum might call his name out and Jason could hear … it’s been at least three minutes since he went to the toilet and he could be on his way back down to make the tea. The back door seems safest. At the back door he pulls the oldest trick in the book. A quick short rap and then duck round the corner of the house. Nathan’s heart is thumping hard and an adrenalin rush is preparing for fight or flight. Nothing. Shit. He waits a few seconds then knocks again. Almost immediately Jason opens up and steps down into the yard.

  There’s a bit of muttering about kids, then he yells, ‘Bloody little shits! If I see you round here playing silly buggers I’ll skin you al—’

  The unforgiving steel barrel of Nathan’s gun in the back of his neck silences him, and he allows himself to be meekly guided back into the house. Nathan kicks the door shut behind them. ‘Now just be a good lad and kneel down in the corner here and put your hands behind your back.’

  Jason stops. ‘Nathan?’

  Into Jason’s ear he whispers, ‘Don’t turn round. Just do as I say.’ Nathan keeps the gun in Jason’s neck while he takes some cord from his pocket with his other hand. He drops it as a vicious back elbow to his stomach knocks the breath out of him. As he doubles over, he remembers what it is that Jason is good at.

  Then Jason’s weight is on top of him, his forearm across Nathan’s windpipe, his big iron fist around his wrist trying to wrest the gun from his grasp. Nathan can feel himself floating, but then he hears his mum’s voice. ‘Hey, leave my lad alone, you big bastard!’

  Momentarily the pressure on his windpipe lessens and Nathan brings his knee up into Jason’s groin. There’s an ‘oomph’ as Jason grabs his balls and, as he does, Nathan’s up and landing him a few choice kicks and punches. Jason curls into a foetal position, covering his head from Nathan’s fists, but Nathan’s not fooled into letting up. If he does, Jason would be at him again. Though it pains him to do so – he’s not a naturally violent man – Nathan pistol whips him. One blow and Jason’s out.

  Nathan takes in huge gulps of air through a windpipe that feels the size of a straw as he scrabbles for the cord and ties Jason’s wrists to his ankles. ‘Bloody hell, Nate. What’s going on?’ His mum leans her weight against the door jamb. ‘Jason here has been really nice to me while you’ve all been on your holidays, then he tries to kill you.’ She starts to slump to the floor. ‘Oh no … I’ve gone all of a tremble.’

  Nathan catches her before she falls and sits her on a kitchen chair. ‘Don’t worry, Mum, I’m here now. And that man isn’t nice. If you hadn’t come in just then and surprised him I might have been a goner. He took you from your house and I didn’t know where you were.’ He runs water into a glass and takes her medication from the bag on the table.

  ‘But he said he was a nephew of Margaret thingy, you know. She used to live at number … now where did she live?’

  ‘She lives next door to you, Mum. But he’s a liar. Now, take your tablets and we’ll get going.’ He does the shush sign and points to the prone Jason, then whispers, ‘We don’t want him coming round and overhearing, but I’m taking you to the seaside.’

  The delight in Mum’s eyes lights up her face and Nathan’s reminded of the old mum he knew as a child. She whispers back, ‘The seaside. I can’t remember the last time I saw the sea. Our Angie lives by the sea, doesn’t she?’

  ‘She does, Mum. Now where’s your stuff? We need to go.’

  On the way to Devon they stop at some services for dinner and Nathan calls Angie to explain what’s happened. He’d talked to her the day before to explain what he’d hoped to do and if he was successful, his plans for their mum to live near her. Angie had been all for it. It’s not lost on him that the rest of the family think he’s failed their mum, and of course he has to agree with them. There was no point in saying he misguidedly thought he was taking on Dad’s role, looking after them all, because going through all that again wouldn’t have done any good. This is all about to change though. He’s done what he set out to do, and he’s never going back to his old life.

  Angie had exceeded all expectations. She had found Mum somewhere to live – she couldn’t live with Angie because, unlikely as it was, Ransom could try to track her there – at the house of someone who used to be a nurse in mental health. Angie’s friend’s mum Samantha had been widowed a few years ago and was lonely and felt useless since she’d retired. She was only too glad to offer a room to his mum and is looking forward to the company. How perfect is that?

  Once Nathan has got himself some kind of work he’ll send money to Angie, and his brothers would do the same. Between them all they’ll make sure his mum pays her way and wants for nothing. On the road again, his mum gently dozing beside him, he notices her dark hair is now threaded with thicker strands of grey. Is it any wonder? This new chapter in her life will hopefully slow down the ageing process and, with Samantha’s expert help, who knows what might happen?

  Nathan allows his mind to wander and to actually make plans he knows are no longer dreams. His boats are burned. He’ll settle his mum in her new place and then go back up to Sheffield and get some of his stuff. On second thoughts he might have to leave it – there’s no doubt he’ll be on Ransom’s most wanted list once they find Jason hogtied. Never mind. It’s only stuff. Stuff that can be bought anywhere. Then he’ll be off, cut all ties with his hometown and never look back. There’s only one person he’ll miss and he knows, at whatever cost, he’ll have to see her before he leaves.

  23

  Spring has wrapped a blanket of fog around herself this morning and its threads are leaking fat raindrops down the window of my hotel room. More coffee’s needed before I ring Nathan, I think. I had expected to hear from him before now. In the hotel café I deliberate about a pecan croissant to go with my coffee, but only for a second or too. Life is too short not to have a bit of what you fancy now and then. My healthy eating regime is underway – sort of – so I can’t chastise myself for this, can I?

  I draw a high stool up to the counter by the window and look into the fog-drenched courtyard, but the river’s hidden. A few daffodils in tubs are doing their best to pretend it’s still a lovely spring day, but who are they kidding? Days like these smother any hope of sunshine and green shoots. The coffee’s rich, dark and bitter, the croissant sweet and indulgent, both just what I need to galvanise my mood … my resolve to look to the future with optimism.

  I try not to let my mind go back to yesterday when I broke the news to Mark. He was sure after my break away I’d come back refreshed and ready to plunge into police work again. I hinted that Ransom might be gunning for me, but he said if he’d quit th
e force after idle threats from every toe-rag he’d banged up, he wouldn’t have lasted five minutes. I neglected to tell him the threat was real and unlikely to go away if I stayed, because that would have to involve Nathan. Much as I despise him for his part in it, he doesn’t deserve that. Under it all I think there’s a decent guy wanting to get out. My great hope is that he’ll come to his senses once we’ve got his mum back and try to make an honest living at last.

  As I’m about to phone Nathan, my phone rings and it’s him. ‘About time,’ I say as an opener.

  ‘Sorry, been a bit busy. Listen, can I come and see you now at the hotel?’

  Is he bloody nuts? ‘No. Absolutely not. Imagine if we’re seen?’

  ‘Very unlikely. I’m in a hire care and nobody knows where you are, do they?’

  ‘No. But why do you need to see me? Just tell me what you found out when you phoned the surgery.’

  ‘I’d rather do that in person. You see, a lot’s happened since then.’

  He sounds serious and my heart plummets. God only knows what he’s done. ‘If you’ve done anything to bring sodding Ransom to me, I’ll swing for you so help me—’

  ‘No. No, of course I haven’t! Look, I promise it’s good news. Please, I need to see you – there’s too much to tell you over the phone.’

  Logically I should suspect him … should worry that he’s sold me out to Ransom in return for getting his mother back or something. But my gut tells me to believe him. I saved his life, after all; that should count for something. ‘Okay, are you in the city now?’

  ‘Yes, I can be there within half an hour unless you’re not central.’

  ‘I am. It’s the Hilton and I’m in Room 231.’

  Twenty minutes later I’m thinking of ringing and telling him I’ve changed my mind and I won’t see him. The whole thing is ridiculous. Then there’s a short rap at the door. I look through the peephole and see Nathan. He’s on his own, as far as I can see. My training joins hands with natural suspicion and I say, ‘Are you alone?’

  An affronted look sweeps his face. ‘Yes, of course I am.’ Then he shakes his head. ‘Can’t blame you for asking though.’

  I pull the door open but leave the chain on. He’s got his hands behind his back. ‘I have my phone in my hand and my finger on the nine digit. If you’re not alone I’m pressing it three times, and to warn you, I have a Taser in my other hand and at the risk of sounding dramatic, I’m trained in defence. What’s behind your back?’

  Nathan’s mouth turns up at one side and the amusement in his eyes is clear to see. ‘You’re great at spoiling surprises, aren’t you?’ Slowly his hands come round to the front. In one there’s a big bunch of flowers and in the other there’s a shiny red gift bag.

  A rush of blood floods my face. Damn him. What the hell is he playing at? I step back, take the chain off and wave him into the room. ‘Nice of you to think of me, but I’m not accepting gifts from you,’ I say in monotone.

  Nathan walks through, glancing at my hands, and puts the flowers and the bag on the table by the window. ‘You were fibbing about the Taser then?’ He raises an eyebrow but I choose not to answer.

  He’s dressed in a smart navy jacket, light blue shirt and black trousers rather than the usual casual jeans and T-shirt. His stubble is gone and his unruly blond surf-dude hair has been tamed by some product or other. ‘So you won’t accept my gifts? Well, that’s tough, because I accepted your gift to me, and these’—he nods at the table—‘are the woefully inadequate things I’ve brought to try and make a small start at saying thank you. One of the reasons I wanted to see you in person.’

  ‘Gift from me? I didn’t give you a gift.’ I notice my reflection in the mirror behind him and try to straighten my hair. Must have got blown about when I went out for a quick walk this morning. Then I stop myself. Why do I care what I look like? I have no one to impress.

  His green eyes focus on me with such intensity I feel as if he’s reading my thoughts. ‘You gave me the greatest gift of all. My life.’

  This disarms me and I wave him to the sofa next to the bed. ‘Well, you really didn’t have to.’ I perch on the end of the bed and he sits on the sofa, then jumps up again and grabs the bag from the table. ‘Here, have this now and then we can talk.’

  A sigh escapes me, but I take the bag and inside there’s a slim black box. I gasp when I open it. A silver Rolex? ‘No. I can’t accept it. This is too much – it must have cost thousands … or …’ At the back of my mind an uncharitable thought waits.

  ‘It’s not stolen, Bryony.’ Nathan tries a smile but I can see hurt behind his eyes. I wonder if he actually is a bloody mind reader. ‘I sold my car.’

  I purse my lips and try to hand it back. ‘As I said, I can’t take it.’

  He folds his arms. ‘I can change it if you don’t like it.’

  ‘It’s not that. It’s beautiful …’

  ‘Then please accept it.’ The note of desperation in his voice gets to me. Wouldn’t I be the same if someone had saved my life? I look at the watch again and then slip it onto my wrist. ‘Okay. Thanks, Nathan.’

  His face lights up and he gives me a huge smile. ‘It looks great on you. Just how I imagined.’

  Okay. That’s enough of that. ‘So what have you to tell me?’

  He sits on the sofa. ‘Well, I’m happy to tell you that my mum is now safe and living with an ex-mental health nurse in Brixham.’

  My jaw feels like it’s come unhinged. ‘What?’

  Nathan laughs. ‘That’s the reaction I was expecting. Yeah, I found out that the hired muscle that works for Dawson and Ransom had her at his house. I followed him and took Mum. Candy from a baby … mostly. Left him hogtied in his own kitchen. I made sure he could get to his phone though.’ He laughs again. ‘I expect he had to use his tiny brain to find a way to untie himself, might even have thought of struggling to get a knife from the block after a good while.’

  ‘But the deal was to tell me, I’d get the police round.’

  ‘Hmm. The thing is, I knew I could handle it myself and if others had become involved, Jason might have panicked – I know he had a gun – and, well …’ He shrugs.

  I’m impressed that he’s finally showing some guts, but even so. ‘Well, I’m glad she’s out safe, but it was really risky. Won’t Dawson question your brothers, your sister?’

  ‘Might do. But they’d have to find them too. They’ve dropped off the radar really, not being criminals. I was the one they always dealt with. My brothers moved out after Mum was taken, and my sister moved years ago. But just in case, I made sure we got our stories straight. If they’re questioned they’ll say I phoned from an unknown number to explain what had happened. I’m out of the country and Mum was safe and that was all I told them for now. And risky? It would have been riskier for you if anyone had got shot. As I said before, the officers would have dropped you in it, no matter how big the favour they owed you.’

  He’s giving me that intense look again and I glance away, fiddle with the watch. ‘So you risked everything to make sure I was safe?’

  ‘If you like.’

  ‘I’m a big girl, Nathan. I don’t need people looking after me.’ I know this sounds ungrateful, but would he have done the same if I was a guy?

  ‘I know that. But I saw a way to keep you out of it all and I took it.’

  A thought occurs to me. ‘This means you’re going to be on Ransom’s most wanted – this Jason saw you, I assume?’

  ‘Yes, he did. But I’ve been wanting to get out for ages as I mentioned to you before. This was the perfect opportunity. My mum’s safe now so I can leave, make a new life, hopefully.’

  ‘You also said that getting a job without having legit employment history would be almost impossible too, and I had to agree with you.’

  ‘I’ve considered that. I’ll go abroad. France first, I think. I know a smattering of French, loved it at school.’ He smiles at me but I don’t return it. ‘Anyway, I’ll do cash in hand st
uff … waiting tables, kitchen work, cleaning. If anyone asks what I did before, I’ll say the same kind of work. I won’t stay long in one place, keep moving on. Then I’ll see how the land lies. I have money left over from the sale of my car and a few savings. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘It’s a plan, I suppose. You’ll have to work all the hours in the world to get a place to live on the money those jobs will pay though.’ It’s encouraging to hear that he’s trying to break away, but my gut tells me he won’t be able to hack it. He is going to be poor. Very.

  Nathan raises his hands and lets them fall on the sofa cushions on each side of him. ‘Hey, I’m not pretending it will be easy. But I’m determined to change my life. I did have a daft dream of moving somewhere hot, getting a little shack on the beach, making a living that way. That was all it could ever be, a daft dream. This might actually work.’

  The look of raw determination in his eyes touches me. I believe every word. ‘I wish you loads of luck, Nathan. I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you want to make a change.’

  He grins, and pride colours his cheeks. ‘Something else I have to thank you for. Your idea meant that I found my mum and that freed me from Ransom. You saved my life too, obviously. I know I keep going on about it, but I’ll never be able to thank—’

  I raise my hands. ‘Stop. You’ve thanked me with this watch.’ I look at it again and caress the strap. ‘But mostly you’ve thanked me by deciding to leave the stinking pile of shit that is the likes of Ransom behind. You’ve opted for the right choice at last.’

  Nathan nods, leans forward and looks at me as if he’s about to say something important. But then he stares at the floor instead. I wait, but the silence is making me feel uncomfortable. There’s a tickle of anticipation in my chest. Then he looks up, clears his throat and says, ‘You’re going abroad too, right?’

  I nod. ‘Yes, that’s the plan.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet. I thought perhaps Spain. I have savings, I’ll rent a little place …’ I stop. It wouldn’t do to say too much. Even though I trust him, he might get caught by Ransom’s lot and be made to talk. ‘Not sure.’