Trying Not to Love You - Part Eight

Chapter Eight

A week passed before she saw Sonny again, she spent time in London, more than previously and that made her feel better. But every time she left there’d be more to do when she came back. As she pulled the car into the drive she almost baulked, there was a police car outside the house and two policemen were knocking at her door. She immediately thought the worst.

Jumping out of the car she rushed across to them, her heart in her mouth. Her father, her Aunty, the farmland, the restaurant. It could be anything.

                “Can I help?”

The two men turned around, “we’re looking for Sonny Carter, we understand he lives here.”

Relief...this was nothing really bad, everyone was safe, then that was replaced by anger, he had brought the police to her door!

                “He does have a room on the farm, but he’s not here.”

Why did I do that? She immediately questioned herself. She had no idea why they were looking for him; he could have lost his wallet. She was thinking bad, and that wasn’t good, that wasn’t her.

                “What’s happened?”

The older of the two uniformed men sighed, “sorry, can’t divulge that information, but we need to find him. Ask him a few questions.”

She shrugged, “sorry. Can’t help you. He may be back later, but I don’t keep tabs on him.”

                “Can we check out his room?”

Martha wasn’t comfortable with this, Sonny’s space was just that, his. There was no way these could just waltz into it and look for him. She remembered every police drama and movie she’d ever seen.

                “If you’ve got a warrant then I’m sure I can’t stop you. But as a landlord, you must be aware that I can’t enter his property without forewarning him.”

The officers had the good grace to look put out, the older one placed his hand in his pocket and handed her a card. “This is the number for the station; could you call if you get any information?”

                “Information on what? You haven’t told me anything.”

With a scowl and a grunt the two men get back into their car and drove off the farm.

As it disappeared the front door opened and Aunt Lucy stood there scowling, “I told you that man would bring nothing but grief, now is the time to get rid of him. How is a defenceless pensioner like me meant to sleep at night with that animal on the property?”

Martha laughed out loud, “I don’t know what’s more laughable, you being defenceless or him being some sort of predator. Aunt Lucy you are SO ungracious at times.”

                “The police haven’t darkened these doors in years.”

She shrugged, “and now you presume that he’s done something wrong? You have no idea why the police were here.”

“The post office was burgled last night, in Northfield” she named a neighbouring town, “the owner disturbed them, he’s in a coma in the hospital.”

“And the man with the criminal record is the immediate culprit?”

Aunt Lucy huffed, “He was flashing cash in town, where else would he get it?”

Martha shrugged, “That’s none of anyone’s business. What happened to innocent until proven guilty...that’s how justice works in the developed world?”

Aunt Lucy looked embarrassed for a moment, then turned on her heel in anger, storming inside with a slam of the door.

Martha leaned against the gatepost. What the hell was going on? She didn’t want to think bad of Sonny, she’d seen chinks of bad in him, and he told her he was anything but a good man. But when they’d talked he’d seemed nice, lonely, and quite open. Now she didn’t know what to think.

She wanted to check the yard, make sure everything was settled before turning in for the night, it was now a ritual. The boundary fences were secure; the prize horses that trotted across when she checked the gate were safe, enclosed. The dogs were settled in the feed room, even the cats were absent.

Nothing was out of place.

                “Maybe you should listen to your Aunt?”

As she was about to close the back door she heard Sonny’s voice behind her.  Turning she sighed.

                “You want me to blame you for whatever they’re talking about?”

He shrugged, “everyone else thinks it. Why should you be different?”

                “Because I’m NOT an idle gossip, and I’m not like them. I’m quite insulted that you think it.”

His eyes flashed at her, “I’m not asking for anything from you. I don’t need you to look out for me.”

She laughed, “I’m not doing this out of pity or sympathy, I’m being rational.”

Shaking his head he turned away, “I don’t believe you’d do that.” Her words caused him to stop, and that pleased her. “You’re not a petty criminal. I know that much about you.”

The responding laugh was sarcastic, “nope, only serious organised crime for me!”

                “You running away again?”

She threw that at his retreating form. And as anticipated he froze in his stride then turned slowly.

                “What is it with you? I am not running away.”

Lifting an eyebrow she laughed, “no, you never are, are you?”

With that she turned and entered the kitchen.

She’d barely opened the bottle of wine when there was a knock at the door. Pulling it open Sonny stood there, livid, towering over her.

                “Why? Why do you keep on at me?”

Martha rolled her eyes, “stop with the melodramatics. You run from sharing anything about yourself Carter, I’m thinking you’re scared of what people think.”

                “No,” he shook his head as he stepped into the kitchen. “I don’t care what people think of me. I don’t care about anyone, ok?”

She sighed, “if that’s so why are you shouting at me. You care that I think you care?”

Shaking his head he paced the kitchen, “you are a pain in the arse, trying to wind me up.”

Tipping some of the red wine into another glass she handed it to him, “have you got an alibi? For last night?”

Sonny stared at the glass for a moment, even when he shouted at her she ignored him, taking it he took a grateful slug, then turned to her. “No. I was here, in bed.”

                “Alone?” She asked with exaggerated incredulity.

Snarling, but with the strong hint of humour beneath the bared teeth he shook his head, “ironic, hey?”              

Sitting at the kitchen table she thought for a moment, “you win on the horses?”

He nodded, “picked up a couple of hundred.”

                “Were you in Northfield?”

Again he nodded, “met someone there, some business.”

                “Think someone may have known that you were there? Or is this a coincidence?”

When he shrugged she leaned across the table to him, “you make out that you don’t care, about what anyone thinks, yet you were hiding from the police. You don’t want to go back inside.”

                “Of course not. It’s the last thing I want.”

Topping up her glass she glared at him, “so you were seen in the same town last night, have no alibi for the night, no one in this town would stand to defend you...and you have a record. Presume that’s why you were hiding from the police tonight.”

He dropped his head to his hands and groaned, “shit. It’s that bad, isn’t it?”

                “Could be.” She stood and made for the fridge, pulling out a large piece of brie and then some crackers from the cupboard. Sat back down she cut off a piece of the oozing cheese and loaded a cracker. Before she popped it into his mouth she smiled, “lucky you helped me fix that fence about midnight then, hey?”

                “You can’t do that. You can’t lie for me.”

Chewing the cheese she shrugged, then once she swallowed she smiled, “it’s not a real lie. You DIDN’T do it, did you?”

It wasn’t a question but a statement and he immediately realised she believed him.

                “Carter, I know how people are in this town. Wouldn’t surprise me that they’re trying to blame this shit on you. If I thought you did it I wouldn’t dream of saying you were here. But you deserve a fair chance.”

He shook his head, “Carl will kill me, I’m not letting you do this.”

                “Not your choice. So shall I call the police now, or tomorrow?”

And like magic, it all disappeared. There was no more police, no more hassle, and no more accusation. Just like that. He knew that this was another set up, that someone was trying to implicate him in things, so either he was a threat to someone, or they were attempting to remove him, and he worried that whoever was sabotaging the farm might feel they’d work better without him around, and that scared him. Packing a few things he threw his bag over his shoulder, and then headed for the train. He needed to know what was happening on his side of the equation, and it was a while since he’d visited old haunts. He had to go back to London.

He’d only met Marcus Thomas on two occasions; he usually dealt with one of his higher level minions. The fact that on his first request he was granted an audience with the man himself, only confirmed that there was more afoot.

Marcus Thomas was a man in his fifties, huge in stature and presence that Sonny felt dwarfed by him even though he was sat behind a desk. Sonny sat when offered and looked at the older man.

                “So what can I do for you?”

Sonny sighed, “things are happening, I’m trying to piece together what’s relevant.”

That caused a raised eyebrow, and Sonny didn’t fail to miss that. “Look Oldbury, you know he is who I’m interested in. He’s...” Marcus took a deep breath, “he’s way out of his depth. I’ll be more than happy to bring him down, but I’m waiting for the right time. Your information is vital to that.”

Sonny nodded, “someone tried to set me up, aggravated robbery.”

Marcus gave a little gasp of surprise, “really? Now that is interesting. Do you need help?”

He shook his head, “no I managed to find an alibi.”

Again Marcus digested that, “look, Oldbury is so far out of his depth that he can’t tread water much longer. When this blows up it won’t be simple, it’ll be huge. And you’ll get everything you want and need then. Ok?”

From someone like Marcus that was as close to support as it got. There was nothing else to say, except, “and after that I can walk away?”

Marcus was shocked at that, “but you’re proving to be a worthy asset, I’m not sure I want to lose you.”

Sonny sighed, “I’m settled, I don’t want to come back...”

Marcus shook his head ruefully, “if that’s what you want...we can come to an agreement.”

As good as it got.

As he left Marcus’ club, he literally bumped into Sam, an old friend.

                “Bloody hell if it isn’t Sonny Carter! Where the hell you been? Heard you got out months ago.”

Sonny nodded, “been out of town, business, you know?”

Sam had never left London in his twenty eight years and Sonny could see he had no idea what he was talking about.

                “Want a beer? Great new pub around the corner.”

He joined his friend, but within minutes Sam was outlining the benefits of all their old stomping grounds and the work he was doing for guess who? Marcus Thomas.

Would he ever break free of this world?