Jim’s thoughts were scattered as he stormed out of the pub. Colin was alive? But how? And how could it be that he found out now, on the day he got married! And he knew. His beautiful Colin knew he’d betrayed him. Hadn’t they always promised they would never leave each other? That nothing could kill their love!
But he’d lied to him as surely as he’d lied to Reenie. He’d let despair and grief consume him until the only way he could survive was to try to expunge Colin from his heart. Would he understand? he thought frantically. Could he forgive him?
A sudden righteous anger burned through him. He’d never have married Reenie if Colin had found a way to let him know he was alive! Didn’t he trust that Jim would keep his secret? But even as he cursed him for not getting in touch, he understood. Just one small moment of indiscretion could have meant the end of Colin’s mission, even his death. And the death of the children he was trying to save. No, this was all his fault, and the knowledge was like acid in his gut.
Reaching Market Square, he barely even glanced towards the café. Instead, he ran straight into Perkins’ Fish.
‘Where is he?’ he demanded of an astonished Reg Perkins, who was standing behind the counter.
Reg stared at him. ‘Where’s who?’
‘Your bloody son!’ Jimmy roared.
‘Is this about the fire?’ he asked, alarmed.
‘Just tell me where he is?’
‘It’s all right, Dad,’ a calm voice called before Reg could answer. ‘I’ll deal with this.’
As soon as Jimmy saw Wilf, a red mist descended and he rushed at him, grasping his jumper and pushing him against the wall. ‘Where. Is. He?’ he demanded.
‘Right, that’s enough! You need to get out of my shop!’ Reg tried unsuccessfully to prise Jimmy away from his son.
‘Gladly,’ Jim rasped, pushing Wilf through the queue of customers who were watching with avid fascination.
Outside, Jim shoved Wilf away from him so hard that the other man stumbled and almost fell. Recovering quickly, he held up his hands. ‘Calm down, mate,’ he said evenly.
‘Calm bloody down?’ Jim shouted, aiming a punch at him, which Wilf blocked easily.
‘Tell me,’ Jim growled. ‘Or I’ll beat you to a fucking pulp!’
Wilf stepped back and folded his arms, refusing to fight. ‘You need to shut up before the whole world hears you,’ he said.
‘What did you do with him?!’ Dimly, Jim realised that Wilf had a point, but just knowing that Colin might be somewhere nearby had driven all common sense from his mind. Nothing mattered apart from seeing him again, holding him again.
‘You don’t know what you’re doing, Jim. Shouting your mouth off like this could put him in—’
With a roar of anguish, Jim swung his fist, catching Wilf on the nose and sending him tumbling to the ground.
Reg Perkins had been watching from the doorstep in growing bemusement, but at the attack on his son, he jumped into action, grabbing Jimmy around the neck from behind and holding him securely against him.
‘You all right, son?’ he called.
Wilf stood up, gingerly feeling his nose, which was already bleeding. Then ignoring his father, he put his face close to Jim’s. ‘You make me sick!’ he snarled. ‘You’ve led Reenie on –making her think you love her! Then you come here on your bloody wedding day to ask about your fucking lover!’
By now a group of spectators had gathered, and there was an audible gasp.
‘What lover?! What are you talkin’ about? He’s just got married!’ Unseen by all, Nellie, Jasper and Rodney had come tearing out of the café, Cissy trailing behind them.
Wilf wiped his nose on his sleeve. ‘Yeah, well, he shouldn’t have. And where is Reenie?’ He looked around, and failing to spot her, he turned on Jim again, who was struggling against Reg’s iron grip. ‘Where is she?’
Jim jabbed his elbow hard into Reg’s solar plexus, causing him to loosen his hold.
‘What do you care?’ Jim responded heatedly. ‘From what I hear you deserted her years ago, so don’t get on your high horse with me.’ He stared around wildly, only dimly registering his mother’s shocked face.
‘Son, what’s this all about?’ Jasper approached him gently, hand out.
Just for a moment, Jimmy wanted nothing more than to fall into Jasper’s arms and sob on his shoulder, as he’d done so many times when he was a boy. But even Jasper couldn’t help him now.
‘Jim?’ his mother said, her voice shaky. ‘What lover?’
Another figure pushed through the crowd, bald head shining in the weak sun. And before anyone could stop him, Brian Turner pulled back his arm and punched Jimmy hard in the stomach. ‘You bastard!’ he yelled. ‘What have you done to my Reenie? I’m gonna count to ten, and if you’re not out of here by then, you’re gonna wish you’d never been born.’
‘Over my dead body!’ Nellie threw herself between them, arms outstretched. ‘What the hell’s got into everyone! I nearly just lost my café, and now you want to kill my son! If Jim’s done wrong, then you got every right to be angry! But if you harm a hair on his head, then you’ll have me to deal with!’
Somewhere, someone was blowing a whistle and it silenced the crowd as they turned to see a bevy of policemen running down Biggin Street.
Jimmy looked frantic for a moment, then he grabbed his mother’s hands. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I never meant to hurt anyone . . .’ His face crumpled. ‘Please believe me I never set out to hurt her. I would never have married her if I’d known . . . Oh God, tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I love her. But I need to go to Colin . . .’
‘Colin?’ she gasped. ‘But he’s dead.’
Jim shook his head. ‘No. He’s alive, and I have to find him before it’s too late.’ Then he ran across the square and disappeared up Castle Street.
‘Well, well.’ Lou Carter’s voice broke into the stunned silence. ‘Seems Terence were right after all.’
‘Right about what?’ Nellie said, still trying to process the fact that Colin was alive.
‘Your Jim bein’ a pansy. A poofter. A shirtlifter.’ She cackled. ‘Who’d’ve thunk it.’
Nellie fell back, grateful that Jasper was there to catch her. Twisting her head, she stared up at him. ‘Is this true?’
But Jasper looked as bemused as she felt. She stared around at the crowd of people; many of them had known Jimmy since he was a baby, surely they couldn’t believe . . . Most of the faces around her looked as shocked as she was, but there were others whose eyes were gleaming with excitement at this new scandal, and she knew it would be a matter of minutes before everyone in town heard the news. She felt a powerful urge to run away and hide. But Jim was her son and no matter what he’d done, she’d sworn to always defend her children, so drawing herself up, she stuck her chin in the air and walked forward.
‘Look at you,’ she shouted. ‘Revelling in grubby gossip. You’d believe Lou Carter, would you? The woman whose son set fire to my café. The woman who by her own admission—’
Before she could finish what she was about to say, Lou leapt forward and with one meaty punch sent her sprawling to the pavement, lights flashing behind her eyes.
Marge was standing in the café doorway, watching the altercation in disbelief. But when Lou’s voice rose above the general hubbub, she felt her stomach drop, as suddenly things started to make sense. Christ alive, where was Reenie? she thought desperately. Did she know?
A flash of white beside the grocery store caught her eye, and without stopping to think, she crossed the road and hurried over towards the Market Hall.
At the bottom of Cowgate Steps, she almost bumped into Wilf, who seemed to have had the same idea. ‘You bloody knew!’ she shouted, eyeing his bleeding nose with satisfaction. ‘Why didn’t you tell her?’ She shoved him in the chest. ‘Instead, you start hanging around, confusing her, until she didn’t know whether she was coming or going! Was that why you went to her last night? Did you want her to see Colin? Did you think he might tell her!’
Wilf looked utterly defeated. ‘How could I tell her? I wasn’t allowed to talk about what had happened!’
Marge narrowed her eyes. ‘You could have mentioned it to her. But once again, you chose silence over actually discussing things of importance!’
Wilf swiped at his nose. ‘I’m going to try to put it right. Let me go after her.’
Marge folded her arms and considered him. ‘Put things right? When have you ever managed to put anything right? You’re a coward! You’ve always been a coward. How could you hide something like this from her? You’re no better than Jimmy.’ She shoved past him and started to run up the stairs, but Wilf caught her arm.
‘Please, Marge, you must know how much I-I . . .’ He paused, his expression tortured.
‘How much you what?’ Marge challenged.
When he still didn’t answer, she threw up her arms in exasperation. ‘And as always, Wilf Perkins can’t find the courage to say what he feels. Or say anything, come to that. You broke her heart. And instead of putting it right at the first opportunity, you’ve skulked around like a brooding bloody Heathcliff. Well, a fat lot of good that’s done you. Or her!’
‘I need to try.’ He looked down at his feet.
Marge snorted. ‘Yeah right. Cos you’re so great with words. She’s been utterly humiliated. Again. But at least last time no one else was there to witness it!’
‘Please?’
Marge sighed. Wilf looked so devastated and defeated that she almost felt sorry for him. ‘You can go on one condition: finish the sentence for me. For once in your godforsaken life, tell someone what you feel!’
Wilf shut his eyes and threw his head back. Then taking a deep breath, he looked back at her and said quietly, ‘You must know how much I love her. How much I’ve always loved her.’
Marge clapped mockingly. ‘Finally, he speaks. And no. No, I didn’t know. Which means that she definitely wouldn’t know, because she thinks she’s not worthy of love. You make me sick! If you loved her that much then why did you marry her bitch of a sister? What the hell were you thinking?’
Colour washed up Wilf’s cheeks and he looked away.
‘Oh, I see. Let me guess, you weren’t doing the thinking.’ She looked pointedly at his crotch and then back at his face, one eyebrow raised. ‘God, men! A pair of tits and a pert arse and you’re panting like street dogs in a heatwave. Add to that your inability to hold a simple conversation, when you’ve had twelve bloody years to try, and I doubt she’ll ever believe a word you say. And frankly, you don’t deserve her.’
Wilf rubbed his hands over his face. ‘I-I’m so sorry. For everything. And you’re right, I don’t deserve her. But she doesn’t deserve what’s just happened, and I want her to know that she’s loved. That this isn’t her fault. That she . . . She’s the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. Please, Marge, let me go. I owe her this much, at least.’
Marge sighed and looked at her watch. ‘You have fifteen minutes, then I’m coming in.’
But Wilf was already sprinting up the stairs. Marge followed more slowly behind him, her heart heavy with guilt and sorrow for her friend. But also for herself. She’d managed to paste on a smile after her conversation with Rodney, but after the drama of the afternoon, she couldn’t do it anymore.
Sitting down at the top of the steps by the cemetery she put her head in her hands. The parallel between her and Jim’s situation wasn’t lost on her. The difference being, she hadn’t made any definite decisions. Yet. But what had happened between Jim and Reenie had clarified things in her mind. If she married Phil, she’d end up living a lie. And Phil didn’t deserve that.