Page 148 of A Long Way Back
“If…WhenCarter puts my image on the web, there’ll be nowhere I can hide. Your mum and dad might say they believe me, but you think they’ll want us to be together? That your sisters will want me near their kids? There’s no family Sunday roasts in my future, no big family Christmas, no friendship with Jonty and Devan.”
“Then I won’t have those either.Youare what is important to me, nothing else.”
Ink gave him a sad smile. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me…” He took a shaky breath. “And I’ll always—”
“Ink! Don’t. You’re not running without me. Please. Look, let’s stay where we are until my parents get back. See how things go. I can work. You write a book. Or start an online course for paramedics. If someone firebombs the house we’ll move elsewhere, but maybe you’ll get left alone.”
That wasn’t going to happen. His punishment was ongoing and everlasting. If there was such a thing as heaven, he fucking hoped he got there because he was going through hell on earth. Hatred and venom never went away. People who didn’t know him wanted vengeance. Ink’s interview would start an eruption and hatred would spew like a pyroclastic flow.
He took out his phone and called George. As he suspected, George was not best pleased that he was going to speak to a journalist. He sort of washed his hands of him, but that was fine. Ink had done the same when he’d run that first time.
INK AND TAY RETURNED TO The Dunes and were waylaid by Carter when they walked in.
“You little fucker,” Carter snarled under his breath.
A young woman in a long flowered skirt stood a little way behind him. “He’s agreed to talk to me, Ben. That’s the way it goes.”
“You think I still won’t get a story out of this?” Carter’s smile was not friendly. “You’ll be sorry.”
Ink walked past him and held out his hand to the woman. “I’m Ink Farrow.”
“Vicki Leeson.” She shook his hand. “And you must be Tay.” She shook Tay’s hand too. “I’m staying here tonight. Would you like to come up to my room?”
Ink nodded. Tay pulled him into his arms and kissed him. “I’ll wait for you.”
The journalist had set up two chairs next to the table by the window and gestured for Ink to sit down. “There’s a bottle of water for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Is it okay if I record? Makes things much easier and more accurate.”
“That’s fine.” Ink settled in the chair trying to look more relaxed than he felt.
“I’m aiming for this to be in the magazine in two to three weeks. That’s the earliest opportunity. The magazine’s printed ten days in advance. But this is a big story. They’ll make space for it.”
Ink nodded, hoping his heart calmed down when he started to speak.
“I should warn you that whilst I want to give an honest account of what your life has been like, most people are not going to feel sorry for you.”
He nodded again.
“I know you maintain your innocence, but that isn’t going to be the focus of this interview. I have a photographer with me. We won’t take pictures that include your face, but we can do other shots. We’ll talk about that later. Okay?”
“Yes.”
“Start at the beginning, wherever you think that is.”
And Ink began to talk.
Three weeks later
TAY FELT AS IF HE were hanging onto Ink by the skin of his teeth, whatever the fuck that meant because teeth didn’t have skin. Since Ink had given the interview to the journalist, he’d been too quiet. Tay didn’t like to leave him on his own, because he worried he’d find Ink gone when he came back.
While Tay worked on his laptop, trying to concentrate on other people’s accountancy problems, Ink filled his time playing his cigar box guitar and going for long walks. Tay wanted him to enrol on a study course to be a paramedic, but Ink refused and wouldn’t discuss it.
They were both waiting for the magazine to come out.
For what happened after.
