Page 51 of Captive Hearts
Twenty-One
Gina loved to hide behind her camera, she always had. Ever since she’d recorded her first shot on an old video camera she’d found in a cupboard at her grandad’s. Her first shot was on shitty 8mm video, but Gina loved the way it looked, the way the camera felt in her hand. What she really liked, though, was how the world moved away through the viewfinder. Reality became a scene, and she wasn’t in it. It felt so safe.
Today had been the most dangerous day of Gina’s life, and the camera had been a wonderful comfort. Every minute her baby was sat on her shoulder, she could keep it together. She wasn’t really there. It was just another scene.
But Rick liked to take her camera away from her when it suited him. Then there was no screen between Gina and the world. She was rudderless.
But she realised she didn’t need the camera for protection. Ashley could make her feel safe too. It was a twist in the story she’d never have predicted. They’d kissed, and that had felt good. But the hand squeeze at the end? It was better. Even more comforting than the camera.
But who was there to give Ashley comfort while she tried to keep Rick on the rails? No one. She was alone. It was wrong, Gina knew now. Everything she’d told Ashley, all that pressure, it was too much for one person. Even for Ashley, who bore it well.
Gina decided she didn’t want Ashley to take the weight of these lives on her shoulders alone anymore. It wasn’t fair. So even though Rick had given her back her camera and she could have held onto its sweet safety for a little while longer, she chose to put it down, to step into the scene. Be there.
Gina waited to see if Rick would take her offer to sit and be waited on. He looked down at the shattered remains of his two attempts to open a beer and gave it up. ‘Fuck it, yeah. I’ve had enough. I could do with a sit down. Tiring business, dealing with pigs. They’re fucking with you constantly, trying to wear you down.’
Gina didn’t think that Detective Conway was sharp enough to fuck with anyone. She was quite clearly out of her depth. But as ever, Rick needed to blame someone for his little meltdown, and she was a convenient scapegoat. ‘My uncle’s a policeman. By marriage,’ Gina offered. ‘He’s a right dick.’
Rick grinned. ‘Rozzer in the family? Fucking bad luck, that!’
‘Yeah. Don’t know what my aunt was thinking,’ she said, taking the lids off a few beers and handing one to Rick. He took a swig and set it down, already looking more tranquil. ‘I bet he’s always going on about rules.’
Gina took her own swig. ‘God, yeah. He once slapped me round the face because I cheated at cards with him.’
Rick raised an eyebrow. ‘What card game?’
‘Go Fish. I was eight.’
Rick loved that. ‘What an absolute twat.’
‘That’s a copper,’ Gina agreed.
‘Hey, shall we watch some telly?’ Rick said. ‘I wanna see if they’ve got any more to say about me.’
Gina scanned the bar until she found the remote. She put the telly on and switched it to Channel Seven. Kara Malone was talking about Rick, just repeating things she’d been saying for hours, but slightly reworded. Rick was immediately rapt. He went to sit a bit closer to the screen.
Ashley came over to the bar. ‘Wow,’ she said quietly. ‘You really calmed him down. Thank god for that uncle.’
Gina glanced at Rick, who was utterly absorbed. She turned back to Ashley with a light grin. ‘Both my parents are only children,’ she whispered, taking a sip of beer.
Ashley’s mouth fell clean open. She looked impressed and surprised, and Gina enjoyed that look very much.
But it was the calm before the storm. ‘Hey, what’s she doing back at the end of the road?’ Rick asked. ‘She’s supposed to stay in the car park until the plane comes,’ he complained.
Gina couldn’t think why she’d swapped locations, and she turned to Ashley. Maybe she’d know?
But before Ashley could posit an answer, it became unnecessary. Kara Malone produced an interviewee to her left, a civilian who wouldn’t be let past the barrier, hence the relocation. He was a boy of about fourteen, deep into an awkward bit of puberty, speckled with acne, a honker of a nose on him. At the sight of him, Rick dropped his beer, smashing his third in five minutes. ‘Liam!’ he exclaimed. ‘What the fuck…’
Oh shit, thought Gina.This can’t be good.
‘I have with me, Liam Ennis. The gunman is yourfather, is that correct?’
Liam nodded nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he spoke. ‘Yeah. He gave the police the name Rick, but he’s actually called Pete. Pete Ennis.’
‘Oh, fuck me! Fuck me in every hole!’ Rick said, standing up, the blood draining from his face. He rushed to the window and reached for the blind. But then he dropped his hand. ‘Oh yeah, that’s exactly what you’re fuckinghopingI’ll do, aren’t you?’ he screamed at the blinds.
‘Err… Pete?’ Ashley began.
Rick, aka Pete, rounded on Ashley, his eyes ablaze.
