She blinks up at him, tremulously.
No. Sheila doesnt scare me. Gene almost smiles in spite of himself.
Then why didnt you tell her about Stan half-inching the jeep? Jen enquires, with killer precision.
Why? Gene echoes, unnerved (and not a little indignant). Thats none of your business, quite frankly.
He delivers her what he imagines is a reproving look. Jen appears signally unmoved by it. He quickly relents. I was just biding my time if you must know, he backtracks. I planned to tell her after dinner, but then you rang and beat me to it
His attention is momentarily diverted by a brief commotion in the toilets (the rattling of a plastic toilet roll holder as it jumps clear of its metal supports and clatters down on to the stone tiles below). Gene scowls over towards the stalls, then returns his focus back to Jen again. Peerless timing, by the way, he adds.
I aim to please! Jen bats her lashes, unrepentant. So did Ransom get back in contact? she wonders, almost as an afterthought.
Ransom? Gene reaches up and pulls the tiniest remnant of a spiders web from the corner of the doorframe. When?
Last night.
Nope. Gene shakes his head. Why would he?
Why? Jens astonished. To apologize, you idiot! For ditching poor Stan like that.
Oh. Uh, no. Gene wipes the remnant of web on to a clean piece of shammy which protrudes from one of several pockets in the front of his uniform (a baggy, synthetic jumpsuit with questionable design attributes). He didnt, as it happens.
What a worm! Jens appalled. Well its extra lucky I turned up when I did, then, eh?
She beams at him, proudly, ruthlessly pressing home her advantage.
You saved the day, Gene affirms, somewhat mechanically, like I said in my message
Stan was shitting himself, she interrupts, he begged me not to ring you pleaded with me. Did he mention that?
Uh Gene pushes an uneasy hand through his auburn hair.
He said Ransom wanted him to head back to the rectory and pretend like a gang of local hoodies had jacked the vehicle. I swear to God he was seriously considering it! He thought youd cancel his trip. He was going frantic about it. Then the nausea kicked in, obviously
We were just happy to get him home in one piece Gene does his best to head her off.
I guess this means you kinda owe me. Jen sighs, inspecting her nails then glancing up, coquettishly. Gene meets her gaze, somewhat guardedly. Jen promptly misreads his expression. Are you cross with me because I had to run off before you could make it home yourself? she demands.
Not at all. Genes shocked. You were late for your shift. Youd already gone way beyond the call of duty
Jen inspects the split-ends at the tip of her pigtail for a while, mollified. I cant believe he never rang to apologize. She grimaces. What a spineless little shit! Im gonna give him a piece of my mind the next time we meet up.
Pause.
You think therell be a next time?
Genes understandably quizzical.
Sure. Why not? Jen shrugs. We need to seek retribution. I mean its not personal or anything, she smirks. Heaven forbid! Its just karmic.
It takes a full second for Gene to digest this information, then another to muster his response to it.
Have you given any thought to going public? Jen wonders, meanwhile.
Sorry? Genes still five paces behind.
Itd be a fab story for the tabs, dont you reckon? she muses. Bad-boy golfer feeds under-age kid muscle relaxants then takes him for joyride in stolen military jeep?
Bloody hell! Genes horrified.
Wed naturally do our best to keep Stans personal details out of the mix, she concedes, but if the Tuckers can make a mint out of this stuff
The Tuckers?
Gene stares at her, blankly, then suddenly unexpectedly everything just falls into place.
The Tuckers! he exclaims, knocking the side of his head with his palm, infuriated by his own idiocy. Ann Tucker Noel Tucker. I knew the face was familiar!
Jen raises a single, inquisitive brow.
I bumped into him again yesterday on my rounds, Gene explains. Stratton Street. Theres a girl with red hair
Thatll be Vee, Jen affirms. Really pretty. Party organizer. Into all the forties stuff. I never met the mum. She worked as a housekeeper at the Thistle. Before our time, I guess. A real sweetheart by all accounts bred cats wouldnt say boo to a goose. Patty Marsh from the laundry was her best bud
Hang on a second Genes frowning Im certain the name was Wickers on the electoral roll. I checked it against my details before I made the visit.
Tucker was Reggies business name, Jen elucidates, the name he tattooed under: Reggie T. You must remember Tuckers tattoo parlour on Kildare Road?
Of course. Gene nods. Next to the old Bingo Hall.
Well he always went by Tucker, but his real name was Wickers. Tucker was his mothers maiden name. The dad buggered off when he was a kid. Im not sure of all the whys and the wherefores, but while he always insisted on going by Tucker, the family went with Wickers, purely for legal reasons, I guess. Both his kids still go by it. Cant say I blame them, either she shrugs given the dodgy nature of their dads public persona the Tucker legacy. All the BNP malarkey
And it was Stuart Ransom who put Ann Tucker into a coma with that stray ball of his
Duh! Jen delivers him a pitying look. I found out all the gory details last night on Google, she happily fills him in. Transpires that Mrs Tucker did a bit of fetching and carrying for an elderly neighbour a widower whose sond bought him a couple of tickets for this big charity golf gala in Milton Keynes. The day of the actual tournament an ash tree falls on to his sons conservatory its chaos and he cant actually make it, so Mrs Tucker kindly steps into the breach. Fast forward to a few hours later: Ransoms on the third hole teeing this massive shot. Mrs Tucker is sitting on a blanket enjoying a picnic chowing down on a scotch egg or a sausage roll; history fails to record which it was, exactly when, whack! Ransoms ball hits her square between the shoulders. She slams, face-forward, into the rough, a piece of pork meat jammed in her throat. Everyone thinks shes concussed from the blow which she is but they dont realize that theres a secondary problem till its way too late. Shes starved of oxygen for about five minutes. Suffers serious brain damage.
It was just a fluke, though, an accident, surely? Gene rallies to Ransoms defence. I mean not to diminish the obvious tragedy of the whole thing, he qualifies.
Oh yeah. Completely, Jen concurs. But someone still had to take the rap for it. And like I said, her husband, Reggie Tucker, was Lutons premier local Nazi. He was madly litigious by all accounts. You might remember him as the public face of that long-running battle with the local Trades and Standards Commission when the EU forced us to go metric a few years back? Reggie ran under the banner of The Upholder of the Sanctity of the Great British Pint
Jen rolls her eyes. The pathetic old troglodyte.
Spoken with all the patriotic ardour of a girl who subsists entirely on root beer and Big Macs, Gene mutters.
The bottom line, Jen continues (ignoring this cruel if utterly accurate assault), was that he was determined to get some kind of compensation for his family
I guess you can see his point, Gene concedes.
And naturally Ransoms the first person he tries to finger for it Jen nods but it turns out Ransom isnt insured. Worse still, hes stony broke. In fact hes recently declared himself bankrupt after the collapse of his clothing line although rumour had it at the time that hed secretly squirrelled most of his cash abroad, to one of the Caribbean Islands. Barbados? Bermuda?
Gene shrugs.
So next he tries to finger the course itself who it turns out are actually part of this massive, American-based conglomerate and it doesnt take him long to realize that with the meagre resources at his disposal he hasnt a hope in hell of beating them in court. He even chances his arm with the St Johns ambulance people
Gene winces.
Not a good look, Jen agrees.
But what about his wife, meanwhile? Gene interjects. Ann, was it?
Well Ann is now out of the coma and slowly recovering in hospital under the tender ministrations of a Haitian nurse. Takes almost a year before shes ready to sit up, another three months before she can be fed orally, another six till she can start talking again, and then, when she finally does, its in pidgin French! Wont utter a single syllable of English! Refuses to! Its Mr Tuckers worst nightmare: he finds himself married to the enemy!
A rich irony. Gene grins, tickled by the idea.
And then some! Jen concurs. He promptly starts legal proceedings against the hospital
Oh dear.
and then six, short months later, he kicks the bucket.
Ouch. Gene winces.
Heart attack brought on by all the stress. Jen shrugs. Noel promptly takes over where his dad left off. But Noels a total flake has a dope addict girlfriend whos up the duff. The whole thing implodes, basically. Gets really nasty. Really complicated. Really personal.
Is the mother fully recovered now? Gene wonders.
Not sure. Jen pulls her T-shirt askew and shows Gene a small star on her collar bone.
The collar bone, she informs him, is one of the most painful places to get a tattoo
She shows him a second star on the other side. So muggins here gets two.
And thats Reggies work? (Gene tries not to inspect the stars too closely.)
Nope. Theyre Vees. She worked as her dads Saturday girl for a while trained as his apprentice. Did these babies illegally, obviously. Jen curtseys, proudly. She was pretty good even back then. Although after he died she got into all this weird, ultra-realist stuff
Jen grimaces.
Hang on Genes confused. I thought you said she was a party organizer?
Yeah. Yeah, she was. And she didnt just organize, either she was a real party girl Jen gives him a significant look but after the accident she became her mums main carer. Needs must. Theyd sold the dads business premises to settle their legal fees, so she set up this little studio at home, quit partying and started concentrating on the tattooing side of things again.
Is she any good? Gene wonders.
Oh yeah. Shes a genius at it Jen nods, emphatically turns down way more commissions than she accepts. Her dad was a real traditionalist roses, swallows, pin-ups, that kinda stuff, but Vees completely left that scene behind her, now. Shes like ultra-ultra real. Some people love what she does, others think shes completely whacko. I dunno I guess it just depends on what youre into