Page 84 of The Cut

‘Oh, it’s a long road to justice and I’m too old and tired.’ Patel’s eyes scanned the cemetery. ‘And in the end, maybe your film will be enough.’

Max glanced towards the gate. A Vauxhall Astra was kangarooing down the road to a halt by the entrance. The door of the car opened, and a man stepped out.

Max’s eyes returned to Dave. ‘You know, I once thought this was about revenge, but it was something else. I did it for Annie, and I wanted to right the wrong I had done to you by not coming forward.’ In his peripheral vision, Max caught another little person, and his heart skipped a beat. ‘This was the only way I knew how.’

Max reached into his pocket. ‘Here … this is yours.’ A small plastic Hi8 video cassette tape with words scribbled in felt-tip pen.

Patel shook his head. ‘You keep it.’

A sad excuse for a horn sounded from the stalled Vauxhall at the roadside. Max looked over. Brandon was standing in a full-length winter coat with Charlie in his arms, dressed as if they were going skiing. Americans! Max looked back to Patel, but he was already gone. He turned and walked towards the gates of the cemetery.

‘Nice motor … you cheapskate.’

‘Yeah, Charlie was helping with the stick shift.’ Charlie reached out his arms for a cuddle. Max picked him up and squeezed him hard.

‘What are you doing here?’ Max unzipped the sweltering puffer jacket and smiled at his son.

‘We missed you.’ Charlie pressed his hot cheek on to his father’s and Max inhaled his skin.328

Brandon stepped in close and put his hand on Max’s shoulder. ‘So, wanna show me where you grew up then?’

Max swallowed and composed himself. He stood up and faced his ex-husband and took a deep breath.

‘Pfft! … Where on earth do I begin?’

Max glanced towards the Maddock Farm and the sound of dogs barking in the distance at the rescue shelter on Forest Hill. Back across the cemetery, through the trees, he could see the chain-link fence around the perimeter of Barton Mallet Secondary School and the sprawling sports complex where the leavers threw their Pearls Before Swine. The Cut with the bugle vine, and the Conker Lady’s house, the playground with the rusty witch’s hat and the broken swings, where they’d played at the Easter Wakes. The tall tower of Blackstone Mill. No. Too many ghosts.

‘Well … have you guys eaten? … I do know a really good chippy.’