Cherry Two

Part 11

Chapter 9

That weekend Wallace Ward came and went quietly. During their brief meeting at the Cock and Fox, Ward handed James the envelope containing his new family photos. Particular emphasis had been placed on the sectional blow-up where a nosey Tom Sidcombe appeared to be on fire in a blaze of reflected light.

"Who else has seen this one," James asked as he slid the enlargement back into a brown envelope containing the excellent overall results of the photo session.

Ward shrugged. "Only you. I never show spoiled prints to anyone. You're the one person I know that could remotely understand their significance. It's a secret I've kept to myself for nearly a quarter-century."

"Does it feel better?"

Ward shook his head. "Better?"

"Knowing someone else in the world understands," James added.

"Yes, I suppose so," he replied thoughtfully after a sip of beer. "You mean: realizing your not the only person on this planet that's outright crazy."

James looked bemused but didn't comment. After a brief chat they left.

Outside the pub James waved to Ward's economy car as the photographer began his lengthy return trip to Ongar, after James turned down Ward's offer of a ride home. He needed to walk-he needed to think. Standing at the corner of Church and Clarence Street this way, waving to a departing car, gave him a sudden eerie feeling of déjà vu. Just as it had been in 1984 when an innocent teenage lad waved goodbye to a girl in a red Mercedes after their first meeting—it made James realize he was on the actual spot where his hitherto miserable life had changed forever, only to be cruelly dashed into a thousand pieces.

He crossed over and began walking west, towards Staines Bridge, deep in thought. Before he'd reached halfway to the river a Vauxhall car cruised up to the curb behind him and tooted its horn. James recognized his brother-in-law immediately.

"Hey, Jimmy boy!" Raymond called out from behind a pair of dark glasses. "Get in. I'm on my way to see the girls. Winona is at your place."

Even though James was in no mood for Raymond, he forced a smile and clambered through the open passenger door. As usual Ray's trash-filled car stunk of tobacco smoke.

"I was stuck at the light on Thames Street. Saw you wave to that photographer chap. Those the photos?" Ray nodded at the brown envelope as he pulled away into traffic.

James mumbled a reluctant yes.

"Jesus, the dude even drives all the way out here from Essex to deliver them personally and he's not charging you a penny. How good is that?"

As James had noted on many occasions, Raymond epitomized your basic townie yob, but far from stupid. Once clear of the Thames River they negotiated the Staines roundabout and headed west along the Causeway into Egham. James pondered, knowing he needed to impart some sort of explanation that would keep Kate's curiosity at bay, now Ray had spotted the envelope and made a decent educated guess.

"I thought you worked on Saturdays since you started that job at the betting shop?" James said, hoping for a change of subject.

Ray also shifted gears. "It's alternate Saturdays and Sundays. I'm working tomorrow instead. Don't sound so happy to see me. I just saved you a fuck of a long walk, bro."

"I needed a walk. Anyway... it stinks in here."

They caught a red light at Glanty. "Well I can always take you back to Staines, you ungrateful sod," Ray retorted as he put the shifter in neutral. "Better still, give me a quick squint at those prints. Come on; this traffic light takes forever." He started snatching for the envelope.