Past Reason Hated

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘Can I have one?’ Grey indicated the cigarettes. ‘Supposed to have chucked it in, but…’

Banks gave him a cigarette, which he lit and puffed on like a dying man on oxygen. ‘I don’t suppose this is a social call, either?’ he said.

Banks shook his head.

Grey sighed. ‘I haven’t seen Caroline for about eight years. Ever since she started ru

‘Tuffy Telfer?’

‘That’s the bastard. Just like a father to her, he was, to hear her speak.’

Banks hoped not. ‘Did you ever meet him?’

‘No. I wouldn’t have trusted myself with him for ten seconds. I’d have swung for the bastard.’

Not a chance, Banks thought. Colm Grey couldn’t have got within a hundred yards of Tuffy Telfer without getting at least both arms and legs broken. ‘What caused you and Caroline to split up?’ he asked.

‘Just about everything.’ Grey flicked some ash onto the hearth by the fire and reached for his coffee again. ‘I suppose it really started going downhill when she got pregnant.’

‘What happened? Did you try to give her the push?’

Grey stared at Banks. ‘Couldn’t be further from it. We were in love. I was, anyway. When she got pregnant she just turned crazy. I wanted to have it, the kid, even though we were poor, and she didn’t want rid of it at first. At least I don’t think she did. Maybe I pushed her too hard, I don’t know. Maybe she was just doing it to please me. Anyway, she was miserable all the time she was carrying, but she wouldn’t have an abortion either. There was time, if she’d wanted, but she kept putting it off until it was too late. Then she was up and down like a yo-yo, one day wishing she could have a miscarriage, taking risks walking out in icy weather, maybe hoping she’d just slip and fall, the next day feeling guilty and hating herself for being so cruel. Then, as soon as the child was born, she couldn’t wait to get shot of the blighter.’

‘Where is the child now?’

‘No idea. Caroline never even wanted to see it. As soon as it was born it was whisked off to its new parents. She didn’t even want to know whether it was a girl or a boy. Then things started getting worse for us, fast. Caroline worked at getting her figure back, like nothing had ever happened. As soon as she got introduced to Telfer’s crowd, that was it. She seemed hell-bent on self-destruction, don’t ask me why.’

‘Who introduced her to Telfer?’

Colm bit his lower lip, then said, ‘I blamed myself, after I found out. You know what it’s like, a man doesn’t always choose his friends well. The crowd we went about with, Caroline and me, it was a pretty mixed bunch. Some of them liked to go up West on a weekend and do the clubs. We went along too a few times. Caroline seemed fascinated by it all. Or horrified, I never could make out which. She was well into the scene before I even found out, and there was nothing I could do to stop her. She was a good-looking kid, a real beauty, and she must have caught someone’s eye. I should think they’re always on the look out for new talent at those places.

‘One night she came home really late. I was beside myself with worry and it came out as anger – you know, like when your mother always yelled at you if you were late. We had a blazing row and I called her all the names under the sun. It was then she told me. In detail. And she rubbed my face in it, laughed at me for not catching on sooner. Where did I think her new clothes were coming from? How did I think we could afford to go out so often? I was humiliated. I should have walked out there and then, but I was a fool. Maybe it was just a wild phase, maybe it would go away. That’s what I tried to convince myself. But it didn’t go away. The trouble was, I still loved her.’ Colm rested his chin in his hand and stared at the floor. ‘A couple of months later we split up. She left. Just walked out one evening and never came back. Didn’t even take her belongings with her, what little she had.’ He smiled sadly. ‘Never much of a one for possessions, wasn’t Caroline. Said they only tied her down.’

‘Had you been fighting all that time?’

‘No. There was only the one big row, then everything was sort of cold. I was trying to accept what she was up to, but I couldn’t. It just wasn’t working with her coming in at all hours – or not at all – and me knowing what she’d been up to, imagining her in bed with fat, greasy punters and dancing naked in front of slobbering businessmen.’

‘Where did she go?’

‘Du

‘Did she ever tell you anything about her past?’

‘Not a lot, no. Didn’t get on with her mum and dad so she ran off to the big city. Usual story.’

‘Ever mention her brother?’

‘No. Didn’t know she had one.’

‘Did she ever tell you about her dreams?’

‘Dreams?’ He frowned. ‘No, why?’

‘It doesn’t matter. What about you? What did you do after she’d gone?’

‘Me? Well, I didn’t exactly join the Foreign Legion, but I did run away and try to forget. I sublet the flat for a year and drifted around Europe. France mostly, grape picking and all that. Came back, got a job as a bicycle courier, and now I’m doing ‘the Knowledge’. Nearly there, too. With a bit of luck I’ll “Get Out” and have my “Bill and Badge” inside a year.’

‘Good luck.’ Banks had heard how difficult it was riding around on a moped day after day in the traffic fumes, memorizing over eighteen thousand street names and the numerous permutations of routes between them. But that was what one had to do to qualify as a London taxi driver. ‘Did you forget her?’ he asked.

‘You never do, do you, really? What did she do after she left me? Do you know?’

Banks gave him a potted history of Caroline’s life up to her death, and again Grey sat still after he’d finished.

‘She always was fu

Banks nodded. It was common knowledge that a lot of prostitutes were lesbians.

There was nothing more to say. He stood up and held out his hand. Grey leaned forward and shook it.

‘Were you working on the twenty-second?’ Banks asked.

Grey smiled. ‘My alibi? Yes, yes I was. You can check And I’ve got to get started today, too. When you’re doing “the Knowledge” you eat, breathe and sleep it.’

‘I know.’

‘Besides, I don’t even know where Eastvale is.’

On his way out, Banks offered Grey another cigarette, but he declined. ‘It didn’t taste all that good, and I couldn’t justify starting again. Thanks for telling me… you know… about her life. At least someone seemed to make her happy. She deserved that.’ He shook his head. ‘She was just one fucked-up kid when I knew her. We never had a chance.’

Outside, Banks turned up his collar and walked through the squares and side streets towards Notting Hill Gate. This area had been his first home in London when he had come as a student. Back then, the tall houses with their white facades had been in poor repair, and small flats were just about affordable. Banks had paid seven pounds a week for an L-shaped room, with free mice, in a house that included one out of work jazz trumpeter, an earnest social worker, a morose and anorexic-looking woman on the second floor who wore beads and a kaftan and never spoke to anyone, and Jimmy, the cheerful and charming bus driver who Banks suspected of selling marijuana on the side.