Baildon Moor - Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Baildon Moor and West Bowling, October 1993

‘I don’t want to stay here,’ said Billy. ‘Can I come back to Bradford with you?’

‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ says Sullivan. ‘Get a bag, grab a few things and we’ll be on our way.’ Billy practically ran back upstairs.

The last thing I felt like was company but there was no point arguing with Sullivan. We went to pack our own bags and Billy re-appeared with a rucksack over his shoulder.

‘Don’t forget the shopping,’ I said and Billy looked at me blankly. ‘The shopping – in the fridge from earlier?’

‘Oh,’ he said, but didn’t move.

I went to the fridge and scooped up the eggs, juice, bread and bacon from the fridge. ‘Put them in your bag, no use in wasting it if you’re coming to stay with us.’

‘Oh yeah.’ God knows what he’d packed but there was barely room for the groceries in his rucksack, although he had the presence of mind to remember to bring the whisky too.

 

We got our stories straight on the drive back to West Bowling.

‘So Rudy came out with us last night to the pub,’ I said. ‘The Coach and Horses in Baildon.’

‘And he watched telly with us until we went to bed.’

‘OK.’

‘What did we watch?’

‘The Young Ones,’ we all said in unison.

‘And Sullivan and I woke up early and went to the shop,’

‘And Julianne very kindly drove Marie home, because you had the flu.’

‘Yeah.’

‘This bloke came looking for Rudy, but I checked his room and he was out.’

‘So you sent him away. He didn’t say why he’d come round?’

‘No, nothing. Thought he was a mate.’

‘And you went back to bed,’

‘Because I had the flu.’

‘And that’s why you’re staying with us. We couldn’t leave you in that place on your own; it’s miles from anywhere.’

‘Especially not whilst Rudy was out, I didn’t know when he’d be back,’

‘Exactly. But you should have left him a note. He’ll be worried.’

The two of them looked at me as if I was mad.

 

We got back home to West Bowling about ten o’clock and I felt an overwhelming sense of relief, although I was bone-tired and my arms were aching badly from driving the Wreck for miles – that and carrying Rudy’s body to its final resting place.

Billy unpacked the groceries and Sullivan cooked a fry-up. We surprised ourselves by how hungry we were.

 

I took a hot shower and finally felt almost clean. I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror and was shocked – my hair was lank and I was pale and haggard with the same dark-blue bags under my eyes as I’d seen on the others.

‘I’m going to bed,’ I said. ‘Billy, make yourself at home. I’m shattered.’

I went to the bedroom and crawled under the blessedly soft, warm duvet. Sullivan followed me and we lay side by side in bed and I tried to ignore the unfamiliar space between us that felt like a chasm.

 

When I woke up a few hours later Sullivan had gone. I stumbled next door - jet-lagged and still exhausted despite the nap – and saw Billy sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, surrounded by piles of banknotes.

‘Billy? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’

He jumped. ‘Jesus. I thought you were asleep.’

‘Obviously. What are you doing? And where has Sullivan gone?’ I wasn’t in the mood for niceties.

Billy shrugged. ‘He went out for a walk. Said you were asleep and he needed to think.’

‘What are you doing with the money?’

‘It’s alright. I only took the used notes, not the ones that had come straight from the bank. There’s fifteen thousand and eight hundred quid here.’

I collapsed on the sofa. ‘Billy, we can’t take it - it’s too big a risk. What if the notes are fakes or marked or something? We’ll get into serious trouble.’

He looks at me with a glimmer of defiance. ‘Sullivan didn’t think so.’

‘Sullivan knows you took this?’

‘Yeah, he wasn’t best pleased but he said since I’ve got it we might as well use it now. Then he went for a walk.’

I thought back to something Sullivan had said to me in the farmhouse kitchen.

‘That case will be covered in your fingerprints now – how will you explain that?’

‘Ah.’ He lapsed into a thoughtful silence.

‘What else have you taken?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing? Not even a single trip or bit of hash or anything?’

Billy pursed his lips and shook his head like a child.

‘Right, here’s what you do. You stay here for tonight and then on Monday you go back to Baildon. Carry on as normal, go to uni and whatever. You notice Rudy still hasn’t come home. Do you know any of his friends?’

‘No, not really. People come round most days but no.’

‘OK. Give it a few days, maybe a week, and then report him missing. Remember what we agreed – he went out early Sunday morning and you’ve not seen him since then.’

‘What, to the police?’

‘No. He’ll have a few more visitors  – for God’s sake don’t be tempted to sell them anything – but after a few people come round you get worried that he’s not come home so you go and check his room. Open the wardrobe, see if anything is missing, move the attaché case, look at some papers on his desk. Then we’ll come with you to the uni welfare office or somewhere and we can report that he has disappeared.’

Billy frowned with the effort of taking all this in. He looked very young and afraid.

‘We’ll help you; it’s in all our interests, OK?’

‘Suppose so.’

 

Sullivan came home half an hour later.

‘Did you know about this?’

‘Yeah. It’ll be fine.’

‘Where have you been?’

‘Out.’

‘I guessed that. Where ‘out’?’

‘Just out.’

Sullivan turned his back on me and sat on the floor next to Billy.

‘You won’t want your share then?’

I did the maths in my head. Five grand would pay off my overdraft; take care of all our red bills, the overdue council tax, last month’s rent that we still owed the agency….

I sighed. ‘Count me in.’

I tried to think of it as compensation. I rolled the notes up hid them in a pair of boots in the wardrobe; I didn’t want the money anywhere I could see it, I wanted to work out what to do with it first.

 

By mid-afternoon I couldn’t stand being in the flat any longer. Sullivan and Billy were watching TV as if it were a normal day and I needed to get out, get some air: anywhere but here.

‘I’m going for a drive.’

‘Yeah, alright.’ Sullivan barely looked up from the film.

I wanted to scream but instead went out and drove the Wreck all the way up to Skipton and sat alone, staring into space at the Yorkshire Dales and thought about what the hell we were going to do. It was dark by the time I returned and I still had no answers.

 

That night in bed, I turned to Sullivan. ‘What am I going to do?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I can’t carry on like this, pretending nothing’s wrong. Sullivan, today I almost got raped. I killed someone and you helped me bury a body. And your brother has stolen fifteen grand from that person, who also happens to be a dealer.’

‘Yeah, it wasn’t very clever of him.’

‘Jesus, is that all you can worry about? Billy not being very clever?’

‘We sorted it, OK? Now go to sleep, I’m tired.’

I was shattered but I hardly slept at all. I spent most of the night wondering what had happened to Sullivan to make him so cold – it was if I had killed a part of him, too.