Page 109 of A Long Way Back
“It was ridiculous. I’d never hurt Ru. I couldn’t believe anyone could think I would. Wes and I were enemies. He’d bullied me since I started school. He and his parents were blaming me for all of it, saying I was the instigator, that I’d been obsessed with Wes. Later, he tried to backtrack and say he’d lied just to get me into trouble, but it was too late. The story grew and grew until the police and the lawyers made it fit. My mother had a nervous breakdown and was admitted to hospital. I spent a year in a YOI, a young offender institution. Wes did too, in a different one. When the case came to court, Wes was a blubbering mess and I was dumb with fear and shock.”
“What forensic evidence did they have?”
“My grey T-shirt and jeans stained with Ru’s blood. Found hidden in our shed. I had no explanation for that. Whoever killed him had set me up. My blood and a speck of Wes’s blood were found on Ru. It was like some horrible dream where every way I turned, there was another monster waiting to eat me. My parents thought I’d killed him, the entire country thought I’d killed him, Wes said I’d killed him, then smashed his body to pieces, and the jury decided that I had. Wes was found dead in his cell in the middle of the trial.”
“I remember that.”
“I heard people shouting I should do the same thing. A policeman even said it to me. I don’t even know if Wes killed himself or someone did it for him. I don’t think Wes was the type to commit suicide, so…”
“What do you think happened to your brother?”
“I don’t know. Twelve years to think about it, and I still don’t know. In my most hopeful moments, and they don’t happen very often, I think he’s still alive and my dad misidentified him. But I know how unlikely that is.
“My best guess is that Wes saw Ru outside the school, was still pissed off with me for not giving him a blow job, and unseen by the camera, lured my brother to the mill. Wes knew Bela was missing. Ru had fastened a picture outside school. Maybe Wes told him he’d seen her. When Wes got Ru there, he might have tried to get him to do what I wouldn’t, then hit him. Kept hitting him. Maybe Wes’s father tried to get me blamed, knowing Wes did it. I’ll never know. That’s…hard, the not knowing. They said one blow killed Ru. That was some comfort, that he didn’t suffer, but…” Ink put a hand over his mouth and rubbed his face.
“It all seems a bit…flimsy.”
“It was, but they made it fit. Guilty beyond reasonable doubt. My PE teacher even came to court and said how I’d tried to blackmail him, how desperate I was to leave school that afternoon. That did me no favours. I think my dad not being on my side made people wonder.”
“You don’t think your dad might have done it?”
“No. He had an alibi and he adored Ru.”
“Then some random stranger?”
Ink shrugged. “The case is closed. No one cares. Ru is dead. Wes is dead. No one’s going to come forward and say they did it.”
“Now tell me why you’re running?”
“I was given a new identity the moment the trial was over. Thirteen-year-old Killian Byrne was made fifteen years old. No one was supposed to know my new name or where I was serving my sentence. They cut my hair, dyed it blond, gave me clear glasses to wear, and a new history. I was kept apart from the others locked up. I’d been made into a different person inside and out, as far as they could manage, but they were still careful about my security and I had to be careful too. Once I’d changed enough physically that I could be in general circulation, I was sent to another YOI with a criminal record of grievous bodily harm.
“I chose my name. I argued about that. They wanted me to have something ordinary like John or James. One fight that I won, but they thought I’d made a mistake, that I shouldn’t have a name that was so distinctive. Ink stands forI Never Killed.That’s Bela, Ru’s crow tattooed on my back. As far as I know, she was never seen again. The words on my back mean the same thing.Níor mharaigh mé mo dheartháir riamh.I never killed my brother. I couldn’t find anyone who knewShelta, the traveller’s language, so Irish Gaelic was the next best thing. I want the truth to stay with me in death.”
He looked at Tay.
“Jesus, Ink. How did you cope? How did you survive?”
“With the help of my imagination. I relived happy memories of me and Ru, such as when we made kites and flew them, or when we rode our father’s carousel, or how we made dens in the garden. When it hurt too much to think of my brother, or to contemplate the life I had, I made up worlds of my own that were nothing like the world we live in. My imagination offered me the chance to escape, though it was also a sort of cancer, letting me hope when there was no hope. I’d always written stories, now I did it all the time, scribbled in notebooks for hour after hour. I was afraid, angry, hated everyone, but for a long while I clung to the hope that someone would realise a mistake had been made. I suppose I’ve given up on that now. Well, maybe I cherish the tiny flame that still flickers, but I know nothing will change. I’ve accepted that.”
Tay looked devastated, the lines in his face more pronounced.I’ve done that. I wish I hadn’t.
“A guy called George Milton was appointed my offender manager. Only George and a couple of others in high-up roles knew who I really was and where I was living. My safety depended on them, but there was a breach. I was never told exactly what happened, but a journalist called Ben Carter found me working in a factory in Lancashire and a picture of me was posted on social media. It was taken down fast, but the damage was done. My lifelong anonymity didn’t last long.” He gave a quiet laugh. “A lot of people want me dead even after all this time.”
“Christ.”
“I didn’t put a foot wrong while I was in detention. I worked hard, did as I was told. I was determined to succeed. Though I knew if anyone found out who I was once I was released, I’d have no chance of putting my past behind me, of finding and holding on to a good job, or continuing my education at university, or forming relationships with anyone.
“I can’t have friends. I have to keep moving. I have to lie, or at least avoid answering some questions, and I don’t like lying. I know this is us done now, but I’m glad I’ve told you the truth, even though I’ve broken the one rule that was drummed into me.Never tell anyone who you are.” He huffed. “It would have come out sooner or later, and the later it came out, the worse it would have been, the betrayal too much for either of us to bear. I could have run, but I got to know you too well to walk away without a word.”
He lifted his head and stared at Tay. “I once thought if I was a good boy, all my dreams would come true. I’ve given up on dreams. They only break my heart.”
Tay’s eyes brimmed with tears.
Ink rolled his shoulders, then grimaced in pain. “Carter came to the hospital this morning. I’ve always felt him looking over my shoulder. He’d get into trouble for posting a picture of me, but I seem to have managed that all by myself. One hint about my real name from anyone and… Yeah, well, he’s writing a book and he wants me to tell him my side of everything. I think it’s only a matter of time before people know who I am. What they don’t know, unless you told them, is this address. But I can’t wait until they find out where I am. I can’t stay inside forever. I need to move on. When I’m strong enough to leave, I will. I’m sorry I got you involved. I wish things were different, but they’re not.”
“Where are you going to go?”
“I usually just pick a destination at random.”
