Jogging Memories Ch. 03

"Well I never," Ralph said, thoughtfully, blowing on his tea, "I thought perhaps he was involved in drug dealing or something and that someone had not only topped him but made a thoroughly good disposal job of the body. What's he got to say for himself, leaving his wife, kid and parents like that?"

"The local uniforms haven't said anything about him, yet. This local detective who's assigned to the case said that he was brought in as a jogger with no identification on him and no recent missing person report filed either. Got a good kicking apparently and didn't wake up for four or five days. When he did regain consciousness he told them who he was."

"So, hopefully that ties up the loose ends on one old unsolved case. Wonder why he decided to go AWOL in the first place?"

"Abuse at home, perhaps?" Mike suggested, "I never knew his Dad."

"Nah, Tommy Barlow was in his early twenties by the time he disappeared. He had already moved out of his parents' home a year earlier and had married. He even had a kid on the way. I knew his Dad, Alan, very well. He was no child abuser. Frantic about finding his boy he was, went to all sorts of lengths. Alan weren't play-acting, he was the genuine article. No, both his parents were diamonds. There was no indication that Tommy was dishing out any abuse himself, either."

"Affair, maybe? Or his missus was having one and he found out about it. Maybe he thought the kid she was expecting was someone else's."

"I'm not sure he even knew about the kid being on the way, to be honest. I wasn't directly involved in the original case, as you probably know if you read the notes. After Ann Barlow started looking after you regularly we got to talking about it. So I looked up the case notes on the QT. I never interviewed Tommy's missus, and I can't even remember her name but I saw quite a bit of her around. She didn't seem the sort to have an affair, you know? Cute she was, very cute, but reserved, nervous around men but she was great with you kids. She looked a bit lost really, sad and only brightened up when she saw her kid. She and Tommy were childhood sweethearts apparently and I don't think either of them had ever dated anyone else before they married. Ann looked after both you and the baby some of the time. I didn't mind, though, Ann was very good with you."

"I only remember Ann a little, really, I remember your Fiona more, much more, of course."

"Yes, Fi got involved and joined our little family a little bit later on, but Ann still came in handy for when Fi and I went out, although you were often asleep by the time Fi got herself ready!"

"Well, I've stopped by because I've got to go visit Ann Barlow and give her the good news," Mike said, "You want to come with me?"

"Try and stop me!" Ralph laughed, "You going over now?"

"No time like the present, Dad."

CHAPTER FOUR: Missing

"Hi, Tommy," Rachel said, as she entered the darkened room.

"You must be Rachel?" he asked, blinking at the additional light coming through the doorway as the new visitor entered, "I thought I recognised your voice."

"Sorry, Tommy, I should've remembered you hadn't actually seen me before now, just heard my voice," the detective apologised, "And it is still pretty dark in here. When did they remove your eye pads?"

"Only about ten minutes ago, actually. You have the privilege of being my very first visitor since the miracle of my sight was restored."

"I naturally assumed that the two girls, Helen and Sharon would be in here already, to be honest."

"I got the impression Sharon works weekends, so Helen was here on her own early this morning. She was sent packing from the room before the Doctor removed the dressings and did his shining light thingy tests on my eyes. I think Helen said she was going for a 'larty' and a Danish. Anyway, you got any news for me?"

"Helen went for a 'latte', that's a coffee with milk. Anyway, I have some good and some bad news. And a few unknowns in the mix too."

"That doesn't sound all that promising, Rachel." he said, calmly, "How do you want to play this, good news first, then bad, or vice versa?"

"You sound quite relaxed about all this, Tommy."

"I've been talking to Ben and the Doc for the last half-hour, catching up on the last thirty years that I've lost. Now, that was a bit of a shock, to say the least. Anything else you add to that is just a crust of icing on top!"

"Well, that's one bad news item that I can cross off my list! Phew, that was one that I am really glad someone else beat me to."

Rachel sat herself down in the chair by the side of the bed and crossed her legs. She noticed, with the tiniest smile, that his recovering eyes slowly ran down her stockinged legs to her shiny black heels and back up to her knees. 'Yes, Tommy,' she thought silently to herself, 'I do work out, rather excessively, actually, and I am pleased with the shape of my legs and only wear trousers when the weather is bad. In fact, I'm really quite pleased that you noticed my legs. I could do with a lift this morning after dealing with my boss.'

"It's been a big disappointment to me that my team Notts County have dropped from Division one to the bottom of Division three," Tommy said, "Or whatever they call those divisions now. Ben did explain, but I got a bit lost in the translation somewhere along the line. I can't see what was wrong with the old simple 1,2,3,4, division system. Everything else they spoke about just seems like time has moved on real quick and left me behind in its wake. If I didn't believe them, the Doc showed me my face in a mirror just minutes ago, so I can see that I am old, really old. I suppose you are going to tell me that in the last thirty years my beloved Sally has moved on with her life without me?"

"Well, I don't actually have any information on Sally's whereabouts at the moment, the Nottingham boys have so far drawn a blank in that direction. There's nothing at all in the scanned paper file I received, which hasn't been updated it seems for 25 years, when ..." Rachel paused, "When you were officially declared deceased."

"Ah, someone's just walked over my grave!" Tommy said, more to himself than to Rachel. "Any ideas on where I have been living, and ... and who with, for the last thirty years or so?"

"We've had a bit of a lead from the Buxton uniforms, a description of you that was given over the phone late yesterday afternoon. No photo's come through yet. The woman who only just reported her husband missing is going to speak to the Buxton police later this morning. They will give me the tip-off if anything promising arises out of that interview."

"I thought I must've remarried." Tommy commented quietly.

"What do you remember?" Rachel asked.

"Nothing, Rach, I've not actually remembered anything at all in fact. When they removed some of the bandages from my hand and fingers yesterday, I could feel my wedding ring. I've seen it too now, just a few moments ago. It is a thin gold band and it looks well worn, you can just feel some light chasing around the outside which has been worn smooth in places. When I married Sally, I had a really broad thick gold band, with no patterning on it, just an inscription on the inside. So I knew then that I must've got remarried. Probably married a long time ago, too, judging from the wear. I may be a ... I don't know what the word is..."

"Bigamist?" Rachel suggested.

"Yeah, that," breathed Tommy, "I really can't imagine this remarriage thing happening, not to me. There was never anyone else in my life except Sally; she was always 'the special one' for me. We knocked around as kids while we were growing up and became best friends. Then we just naturally progressed to experimenting, you know, until we became lovers. Once we got to that point, I thought we were set up for life together. I was never interested in anyone else, never. I mean, I used to flirt with ladies all the time. That was just my way. Jack the lad, full of cheek, that was me all over. But Sally was never worried about it, she knew me, really knew me through and through. We both knew that as far as I was concerned she had no competition."

"You never know what's going to happen in life, Tommy. We don't know what will come to light about you or her, as we dig through your life, you just have to cope with it as it comes."

He nodded.

"So who is this missing person from Buxton?"

"The woman's name was ..." Rachel flicked over a page of her notes, "Er, Jennifer Eleanor Morris; her missing husband is Robert Neil Morris, missing since last Sunday morning. Does any of this ring any bells, Tommy?"

"No Ma'am, it doesn't. And I really wish it did."

"Well, you'll be interested to know that Robert's a keen jogger, too."

<<<>>>

Jennifer Morris was nervous, sitting alone in the Buxton Police Station interview room waiting for the detective to free himself from whatever was more interesting than her case, before he came to take her details. A policewoman had brought her a plastic cup of rather disgusting coffee more than ten minutes ago. She checked her watch again. It seemed like she had been waiting three times as long as the time that had actually elapsed. They were deliberately keeping her waiting, she was sure of that. Sure that they knew something and hoping she'd crack and confess. She screwed her face up again as she sipped another cold mouthful. It was probably the worst cup of coffee she had ever tasted, but she didn't have anything else to do with her hands except pick up the cup, sip from it and put the blessed thing down again.

Eventually the detective constable, a tall thin shaven-headed man who introduced himself as Paul Tully, came in and took the details that Jennifer was prepared to give him. She disclosed that she had last seen her husband on Sunday, and then only extremely briefly. It was very early that morning when he came home from work and before he left to go out for his usual end-of-shift-pattern run.

She had thought through earlier, how could she explain to the police her reasons for delaying so long before reporting him missing? So, when the detective got around to asking that awkward question, she admitted to Tully, apparently reluctantly, that they had had a small domestic argument, which was blown up out of proportion. Jennifer told Tully that she had assumed that he would stay at a hotel for a couple of days before coming back in his own good time for reconciliation.

These domestic rows take place from time to time, Jennifer said, it was just a stupid argument that hadn't come to blows and nothing breakable was thrown out of the pram by either side. She fully expected the row to blow over quickly. Bob didn't take their car with him and he left his wallet at home. He always went for a long run on Sunday mornings, but this time he never came back home.

The detective nodded, accepted what Mrs Morris was saying, not seeing any reason to go into any further details at this point. It was clearly no longer his case, if the Chesterfield "5-0" wanted to follow it up, they could. He had already spoken to DC Rachel Webster at Chesterfield CID and he would send off by email a scan of the photo that Mrs Morris had brought in for comparative purposes. It sounded from what both DC Webster and Mrs Morris were saying, that the injured guy in Chesterfield seemed to be the husband that was missing and lost. He had been there since Sunday he understood, although he must have been driven or taken the train, as Chesterfield was a good twenty-five miles away from Buxton by road.

"Too early to tell if we have found your husband at the moment, Mrs Morris," Tully said. "We have had reports of a man who, on the surface, answers to your description but some of the important facts don't quite match up. Therefore I don't want to get your hopes up yet that we've found him. I'll send off this photo to the relevant CID this morning. We'll be in contact with you in the next couple of days once we have more information for you."

<<<>>>

Jennifer Morris entered the restaurant at the motorway service station and looked around the tables. A wave from a table near the window alerted her to the presence of Richard Robertson. What a dummy, he was, the thought occurred to her, and not for the first time. They had arranged to meet immediately after her interview with the police, but somewhere distant, quiet, where no one they knew would see them together. However, instead of taking a table near the back wall or in a quiet corner, Richard picked a table out in the open as close as he could get to the main concourse, where every motorist that uses this station needs to walk down to use the facilities. She shook her head and sighed as she walked leaden-footed over to the table.

"Hi Jen, what did the police have to say?" Richard asked as she slid into the seat opposite him.

"They think they know where Bob is but they are not saying anything to me at the moment until they have had a positive ID," Jen replied, "They've got someone who answers to Bob's rough description somewhere apparently, but they have been given conflicting information by him. All reported by another police station. Again, they are not saying where. They are going to send the photo off to that station today."

"Looks like Bob's playing silly buggers with you, then, Jen."

"Well, can you blame him?" she lowered her voice even more, "Finding your spouse and best friend in bed together is enough to piss anyone off, even somebody as naturally placid as Bob."

"He wasn't that placid," he said, stroking his jaw.

"Well, you asked for that!" smiled Jennifer, noting that, even under the glare of this restaurant lights, there was hardly a mark there on Richard's dark skin after six days.

"So, from what the police are saying, he's not in Buxton, then?" he reached out and took her hand.

"No," she snapped as she snatched her hand away, "Look, Richard, this was a mistake meeting here today. We should be keeping well away from each other. Honestly, why did you have to pick somewhere right out here in the window, instead of one of the booths near the back, in the shadows? Anyone could see us ... and then you try and hold my hand! Are you really that stupid?"

"Look I'm sorry, Jen, you know you mean the world to me. Anyway, if you can't patch it up with Bob, you know, we could always-"

"There's no 'we', Rich, let's get this straight. I want my husband Bob back. I want my family back. I want everything to be as close as possible to what it was, at any cost. I don't even know what I was doing seeing you," Jennifer shook her head, "And staying together, in our bed for the whole of that night, that you thought was so special, has turned it into the very worst night of my life. And the nights spent alone ever since have almost been as bad. It's the not knowing..."

"But we are so good together," Richard lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned forward. "I never got over you ten years ago, you know."

"Oh my god!" Jennifer exclaimed, "Ten years ago was so wrong. It was a huge mistake. It wasn't even worth it, was it? I should have learned my lesson way back then. Why, oh why did we do this again?"

"We had fun though, didn't we? Nothin' wrong with a little bit o' fun, Jen. No harm was done and this will be sorted out between us, you see."

"I don't know," her voice full of anxiety, "But now Bob knows..."

"We can't cry over spilt milk. We can't do anything until we find out how Bob feels and how we can get him to come round to our way of thinking, possibilities and the like." Richard pointed out, "You know how you can twist him around your little finger."

"How I used to, Rich, once upon a time. Things are different now. We are going to have to walk on eggshells for the foreseeable future. If Bob and I even have a future together. I am worried that Bob will simply want to try and forget all about me."

<<<>>>

"Good morning Ann," Ralph Haroldson said, as soon as the door to the tiny sheltered accommodation flat was opened, "How are you, my dear?"

"Ralph Haroldson?" the bent old lady asked, "Is that really you? Oh, my! And it's young Mikey with you, too. It's so lovely to see you both! Please, please, do come on in. Sorry about the mess, I don't get many visitors nowadays."

The flat only had one main room with a tiny galley kitchen on one side, a couple of doors leading off, no doubt, to the single bedroom and the bathroom. It was neat and tidy, with some knitting and balls of wool on the two-seater settee, plus a spare armchair with several cushions on it. It wasn't messy at all, thought Mike - she should see his place! On second thoughts, she really shouldn't see the mess in his place!

Ann Barlow gathered up the knitting and carried it over to the top of the sideboard. Her two visitors waited until she returned, only two or three steps away, then they all sat down at the same time. Ann occupied the comfortable armchair and the two gentlemen perched themselves next to each other on the settee. Ann beamed at them.

"Can I get you two boys a nice cup of tea?"

Ralph cleared his throat, "Later, Ann, later, perhaps. Look, no point in us beating round the bush ... we think we may have found your Tommy, alive and well in Chesterfield."

"What!?" the old lady exclaimed before subsiding into wracking sobs. Ralph got up and put his arms around her, sitting on the padded arm of her chair.

"He's recovering in hospital," Ralph continued, "After he was beaten up."

"Beaten up, you say," she gasped, "Whatever's he been up to?"

"Oh, nothing bad, that we're aware of," Ralph answered, "He appears to have been jogging on some bit of common, when he was set upon by two thugs after he saved this young girl from being abducted."

"Abducted?"

"Yes, they were intent on raping the poor girl, Ann, but Tommy got in their way," Ralph confirmed.

"So, Tommy's a hero, then, is he?"

Ralph looked at Mike, who replied, "I guess so. That's what the locals are telling me, anyway."

"Then why did he disappear? Why did he leave that poor girl of his, Sally, to cope with everything all on her own? Why no word to his loved ones for so long, for all this time?"

"We really don't know any of the answers yet, Ann," soothed Ralph, "We are not even a hundred percent certain that this man is who he says he is." He took a deep breath. "We want to go down and see him on Monday morning and wondered if you would like to come along with us, too."

"Try and stop me, Ralph Haroldson!" Ann said, her chin set determinedly, "You just try and stop me!"

<<<>>>

"Hi, Tommy," the cheery voice came from the doorway, "It's so dark in here, are you sure you can see alright?"

"I can see you fine, Sharon, even in this light," chuckled Tommy from the chair next to the bed. "It was even darker than this in here earlier this morning. They have gradually been letting a little bit more light in, to get my eyes accustomed to it in its own good time."

"It's been quite bright out today," smiled Sharon, "Although it's just getting dark outside now and starting to get a little on the chilly side. I think the weather report said that a cold front was coming down from the arctic. Thought I'd pop in and see you on my way home from work. I've got some grapes for you, but they are really cold. When they are this chilled they set my teeth on edge."

"Thanks, you are so kind, Sharon." He looked at her, "You are looking very attractive, I must say. But then I knew from your gorgeous voice that you'd be a beautiful woman."

She put a bag down on the end of the bed and hesitated, hovering between kissing him and sitting down. How appropriate was their relationship now that he was awake and aware of her presence? It was so different when he was in the coma, she sat with him for hours, holding his hand, talking to him about all manner of subjects, without a single thought of the appropriateness of sitting with and watching over a complete stranger. Now they were just coming to terms with getting to know one another and she knew that her feelings for him were growing rather than receding.