middle ages. Daddy is fairly modern in his thinking. Too modern for some of the old men. His idea is to let me out on a long leash.’
‘And then wind you back in when he’s ready,’ I finished for her.
‘Exactly.’
We sat in silence and finished our cigarettes and the dregs of our coffee.
‘Jo,’ I said, ‘I want you to sit still and listen without interrupting for just a minute.’ She looked at me wearily but remained silent. ‘What you’ve just told me obviously hurts you like hell. For you to have travelled half-way round the world to get away from your own family proves it.’ She started to say something but I shushed her. ‘Sweetheart,’ I said, ‘so what? Don’t get me wrong, it looms large in your life but who else cares? Why beat yourself up? You can’t be held responsible for what your family are or do. You’re out of it and your life’s your own. As you said, we don’t live in the middle ages.’
I sat back and lit another cigarette. I was smoking again, but I felt all shiny and new, puffed up and proud. Let the poor little people come to the amateur psychiatrist and in exchange for a cup of coffee and a Marlboro Light he’d solve their problems. Big man, big deal, big frightened phoney.
‘I know you’re right Nick,’ she said at last, ‘but I just feel so guilty. I don’t want anything to do with them, right? But the family paid my fare here, got me the flat and Daddy keeps putting money into my account, and I do love him so, whatever he is, and he calls me up and writes such lovely letters asking me to go home. I’m so confused.’
‘Life’s not so easy that we can just kick over the traces, walk away from places and people and forget them as if they never existed. Some involvement goes so deep that there are things and people you can never get out of your system. You’re tied together for as long as you live. However hard you try and deny it, you can’t. It’s one of those facts you just have to accept. As long as you have memory, that person or place lives with you. So don’t be confused – it’s the human condition. And that is the full extent of my philosophy and psychology lecture for this morning.’
She smiled at me. ‘Is it that simple?’
‘I don’t think it’s simple at all. It’s just that some truths are self-evident. Life is not simple is one, you are beautiful is another, I loved you the moment I first saw you is yet another. I refuse to let you go: now, that one is simple.’
‘Don’t talk like that.’
‘You can’t stop me.’
‘Oh, Nick,’ she said and held my hand. ‘I’m so glad I found you. It’s just that I thought I wasn’t good enough for you.’ If I hadn’t realised before, I realised then that under her brains and beauty there was a frightened little girl looking for reassurance. I held her hand tighter.
‘Good enough for me, are you kidding? Listen Jo, if this is going to be true confessions time, I think there’s a few things you should know about me.’
So I told her. I told her what a lousy copper I’d been. The bribes and the drugs and the scandals that had forced me to leave. I told her about Laura taking my daughter and leaving me because of the state I was in. I told her about the time I’d spent in mental hospital getting my life back together. She didn’t say a word as I explained about setting up as a private detective and the Bright case and how it finished in bloody murder and mayhem.
She waited until I stopped for breath until she spoke.
‘Why aren’t you in prison?’
I took the breath and went on.
‘I got hold of a policeman named Fox,’ I said. ‘Danny Fox, he was my old DI. Detective Inspector,’ I translated when she gave me a quizzical look. ‘He’s gone up in the world now, thanks to me. I was sitting on a mountain of cocaine and enough dirty pictures to bring down the government. I gave him the coke and George Bright in exchange for the photos which are now hidden somewhere safe and
‘And then wind you back in when he’s ready,’ I finished for her.
‘Exactly.’
We sat in silence and finished our cigarettes and the dregs of our coffee.
‘Jo,’ I said, ‘I want you to sit still and listen without interrupting for just a minute.’ She looked at me wearily but remained silent. ‘What you’ve just told me obviously hurts you like hell. For you to have travelled half-way round the world to get away from your own family proves it.’ She started to say something but I shushed her. ‘Sweetheart,’ I said, ‘so what? Don’t get me wrong, it looms large in your life but who else cares? Why beat yourself up? You can’t be held responsible for what your family are or do. You’re out of it and your life’s your own. As you said, we don’t live in the middle ages.’
I sat back and lit another cigarette. I was smoking again, but I felt all shiny and new, puffed up and proud. Let the poor little people come to the amateur psychiatrist and in exchange for a cup of coffee and a Marlboro Light he’d solve their problems. Big man, big deal, big frightened phoney.
‘I know you’re right Nick,’ she said at last, ‘but I just feel so guilty. I don’t want anything to do with them, right? But the family paid my fare here, got me the flat and Daddy keeps putting money into my account, and I do love him so, whatever he is, and he calls me up and writes such lovely letters asking me to go home. I’m so confused.’
‘Life’s not so easy that we can just kick over the traces, walk away from places and people and forget them as if they never existed. Some involvement goes so deep that there are things and people you can never get out of your system. You’re tied together for as long as you live. However hard you try and deny it, you can’t. It’s one of those facts you just have to accept. As long as you have memory, that person or place lives with you. So don’t be confused – it’s the human condition. And that is the full extent of my philosophy and psychology lecture for this morning.’
She smiled at me. ‘Is it that simple?’
‘I don’t think it’s simple at all. It’s just that some truths are self-evident. Life is not simple is one, you are beautiful is another, I loved you the moment I first saw you is yet another. I refuse to let you go: now, that one is simple.’
‘Don’t talk like that.’
‘You can’t stop me.’
‘Oh, Nick,’ she said and held my hand. ‘I’m so glad I found you. It’s just that I thought I wasn’t good enough for you.’ If I hadn’t realised before, I realised then that under her brains and beauty there was a frightened little girl looking for reassurance. I held her hand tighter.
‘Good enough for me, are you kidding? Listen Jo, if this is going to be true confessions time, I think there’s a few things you should know about me.’
So I told her. I told her what a lousy copper I’d been. The bribes and the drugs and the scandals that had forced me to leave. I told her about Laura taking my daughter and leaving me because of the state I was in. I told her about the time I’d spent in mental hospital getting my life back together. She didn’t say a word as I explained about setting up as a private detective and the Bright case and how it finished in bloody murder and mayhem.
She waited until I stopped for breath until she spoke.
‘Why aren’t you in prison?’
I took the breath and went on.
‘I got hold of a policeman named Fox,’ I said. ‘Danny Fox, he was my old DI. Detective Inspector,’ I translated when she gave me a quizzical look. ‘He’s gone up in the world now, thanks to me. I was sitting on a mountain of cocaine and enough dirty pictures to bring down the government. I gave him the coke and George Bright in exchange for the photos which are now hidden somewhere safe and
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