Chapter 42 Ruby

42

Ruby

The red priest was screaming at Ruby when the front door opened and Alison and John walked into the house. He shut up as soon as the Jacksons came inside, but Ruby's head still hurt. At times it felt like his pale hands were in her skull, pushing down on her brain, squeezing it.

Court was finished for the day.

John looked finished too. He looked even more tired and beaten than he had this morning. It had been interesting to Ruby to watch his decline over these last weeks. A vibrant, fit young father had become a wan, ghostlike figure. As if his life had been sucked right out through his eyes. Alison could see it too. Ruby noticed. She saw the concern in the looks she gave her husband. In her small touches. Brushing his shoulder, taking his hand. At times, Ruby wondered if Alison was concerned her husband might take his own life.

Ruby was concerned about this too. She didn't want that. John had to live, for a little while longer at least.

She explained it had been a rough day for Tomas. He might have been running a fever and she had given him some infant paracetamol. He'd had a tantrum, but Ruby had dealt with it and there was no point in going over it again. He was upstairs asleep. Had been most of the day.

Alison thanked her, and they both went upstairs to see him. Ruby followed, at a distance. She watched John and Alison wordlessly climb into Tomas's bed. One on either side. And together they held their son. Tomas stirred, but only a little.

‘Dad,' he said, and put his little hand on his father's chest and snuggled into him. His father's tears fell into Tomas's hair, but that didn't seem to disturb him from his slumber. Alison's body shook as she cried. John was still. And very quickly his tortured eyes closed.

Ruby walked silently downstairs, took her bag and her jacket and opened the front door. As she stood on the stone steps, she felt the small hairs on the back of her neck rise. A feeling started in her legs, then the small of her back and zoomed up her spine, through her shoulders and down into her arms, finally making her fingertips itch.

It was the same feeling as being in a dark wood and hearing a twig snap behind you; the same sensation experienced when leaning over the railing at the top of a tall building; the same central nervous system warning that's triggered when you're in the wild and you see a bear coming over the top of a ridge ahead; it's the body's alarm system flashing a red alert – flooding your muscles with adrenalin.

Someone was watching Ruby. She knew it. Instantly.

She patted her pockets, as if making sure she had her keys with her. It allowed her to take a moment, to be still, and to allow her peripheral vision to locate the watcher.

There, on the other side of the street.

One of the people who worked for John Jackson's lawyer. The woman, Bloch. Sitting in her Jeep. Staring at her.

Ruby wasn't used to being watched. As a cleaner, maid, babysitter, no one paid her any attention. She came into many homes in this street and spent hours there every week, and yet nobody seemed to even notice she was there. They didn't speak to her if she didn't engage with them. They certainly didn't look at her.

She was the help.

She was the server.

She was invisible.

But now she could feel the blood warming her cheeks as Bloch's eyes burned into her. Nothing to do but ignore it. She hoisted her backpack onto both shoulders, trotted down the steps and turned sharply along the sidewalk in the direction of home, and her mom, who would be waiting for her. Hungry.

She was smart, this investigator. The red priest would want her to kill this one. It wouldn't be easy. Best to avoid her, for now at least. Ruby knew she was a threat.

She kept her head down, pounded the wet pavement as she headed up the street. With every step, she felt the heat of those eyes upon her. And with every step, she heard the red priest's voice purring in her mind. She tried to think of something else. A way to get rid of this priest for good.

As she turned the corner, she couldn't resist glancing over her shoulder, back down the street. The investigator, Bloch, was out of her vehicle. Standing beside it.

Watching her.

Ruby turned the key in the door to her apartment and immediately heard an unfamiliar sound.

Voices.

‘Mom?' she called out.

No answer. Just the murmur of conversation. Two men.

‘. . . you found paradise in America . . . you made a good living . . . the police protected you . . . there were courts of law . . .'

The voice was familiar. Someone she knew?

No. It's the TV. Mother hardly ever watched television. She listened to her records. She read her paperback romance novels, but her mom never put on the TV. Ruby rarely watched it. Sometimes for the news, but that was it.

She stepped into the small living space, which was lit only by the glare from the screen. Somehow, Mom had rearranged the only two chairs in the room. They were both facing the TV. Mom sat in her chair. And a man wearing dark clothing sat in the other.

‘. . . someday . . . I may call upon you for service . . . Until that day, accept this justice as a gift on my daughter's wedding day.'

Ruby liked movies. She knew those lines. The movie was The Godfather .

Written by Francis Ford Coppola and Mario Puzo. The actor who played the title role . . .

Marlon Brando.

‘Good evening,' said the man in the chair.