The Dream Catcher Diaries Read online

  For fifteen months Steve disappeared from all of our lives. According to the Containment of Sex Offenders Act that was introduced in 2022, Steve was not allowed visitors for at least the first twelve months, after which receiving them was considered a privilege and had to be earned. His head was shaved and he was made to wear a different uniform to the other prisoners. As well as this, Steve was sent to one of the new hard-labour prisons.

  The Steve who came back to us was a very different Steve to the one who had left. He had hardened – he had to in order to survive – and he had gained shoulders, arms and a chest – muscles in fact. He was a completely different shape. A skinny boy went into prison; a muscular man came out. He moved differently, he spoke differently, but in the end none of that mattered, it was still Steve and we celebrated. We all celebrated except, of course, Adam and Simeon. They merely scowled. Or did they?

  My sight may not be brilliant, but I notice things that many sighted people don’t; as I say, I have the gift of insight, of seeing into people’s hearts. Therefore, I noticed that, although Simeon was still merciless in his taunting, Adam became quieter – and it became even more apparent after the visit from the Lost Boys.

  Chapter 24

  ‘How can I trust you?’

  ‘You have no choice.’

  ‘There is always a choice.’

  ‘You want to protect Matrix.’

  ‘Matrix is just another client.’

  Gray laughed. ‘I was there when you defended him in court. I saw you speak. I saw the passion.’

  ‘Just another job.’

  ‘I saw you kiss the Dream Catcher’s hand.’

  Samuel paused. He looked down at his own clean neat hands and thought of Matrix. The hand he had kissed; the mark of the swastika. Yes, it was true; he had placed his lips to that symbol and he had not hesitated to do so. He had done it then and many times since. He wished he could do it now. But he couldn’t, it was already too late. How could he even begin to say what Matrix meant to him? To so many people?

  ‘No need to pretend,’ continued Gray. ‘You will do as I say.’

  ‘What exactly is the deal?’

  Gray shifted uncomfortably. He was feeling his age and old injuries sustained during the troubles still bothered him. The injuries reminded him what he owed and who he owed. He pushed the thought away.

  ‘The Brotherhood is not to pursue any blood run on the men involved in Todd’s death – and that includes Skinner. This marks the end of the matter. People have died on all sides. It ends now.’ He watched Samuel carefully. The man was giving nothing away. It didn’t matter; he really didn’t have any choice. Besides, in the circumstances, it was a fair deal; probably better than they could have hoped for.

  ‘In return for what?’

  ‘We protect the name of Matrix and, incidentally, his body, which, as you know, is now in police custody.’ He paused. ‘I take it you haven’t told the General about ...’

  ‘No.’

  Gray nodded his head. ‘We will not pursue enquiries concerning the twenty-three deaths of the top layer. Enquiries will lead to no conclusion. As I say, it all ends now.’

  Samuel was frowning. This was not what he was expecting. There had to be more. ‘And all you want from us is that we do not lead a blood run against your murdering colleagues?’

  Gray noticed with amusement that the lawyer had included himself in the Brotherhood cause. He shrugged his shoulders. ‘That’s it. That’s all we want.’

  Samuel watched him carefully. Gray was a big man who sat in a big chair. He had thinning hair and prominent ears. His skin was mottled and as grey as his name. He had a reputation, not all of it good. Samuel knew about Gray; he knew about his history. He even knew about the old injuries that still bothered him. ‘Are you doing this for Matrix?’ he asked at last.

  Gray was quick in his response. ‘This offer doesn’t come from me. You’re a fool if you think I have that sort of authority.’ He didn’t believe Samuel was a fool, quite the opposite, but he was something more dangerous. He was an idealist. ‘I owe Matrix nothing,’ he continued.

  ‘You owe Matrix everything,’ hissed Samuel. ‘You forget I know your history.’

  ‘Do you accept the offer?’

  ‘And that’s it? Nothing more?’

  Gray shrugged his shoulders again. ‘Sure,’ he said. He ran his fingers idly along the surface of his desk. ‘That and the General,’ he added seemingly as an afterthought.

  Samuel looked up sharply. ‘What?’

  ‘We want the General.’

  ‘Absolutely not!’

  ‘We want the General in prison for at least twelve months – until all the fuss dies down. Then he’s yours. A small price to pay.’

  ‘On what charge?’

  ‘Terrorism.’

  ‘That makes him a political prisoner. You can’t guarantee twelve months. You tried that with Matrix. Do you really think you can do it again?’

  ‘That’s the offer.’

  ‘How do I know that once you have him you won’t just keep him incarcerated indefinitely?’

  ‘You don’t. That’s the offer.’

  ‘How can I trust you to do the right thing?’

  ‘As I said, you have no choice.’

  Samuel stared at him. ‘I can’t possibly do that!’

  Gray smiled. ‘Oh, I think you can.’

  Samuel closed his eyes. He knew that Gray was right; he had no choice and he would accept the offer.

  ***********************

  Gabriel and Francis came to visit the summer after Steve was released from prison. It was the summer Davey and Sam married. It was cold and wet but wonderful. It was wonderful because I’d been lonely and now Steve was back, because Adam had been very ill and had completely recovered and because I met some of the other Lost Boys.

  Gabriel and Francis were as beautiful to look at as Steve, and they had the same damaged, vulnerable-predator look to them. They had worked with Steve in the past.

  I use the term worked advisedly here. All three had fallen into a paedophile ring as children. All three had been trained in the ways of sex and all three had the same ugly tattoo on their left arms. At the time, they were known as the Lost Boys, simply because they were lost in every sense of the word – and they remained lost.

  Gabriel and Francis came to visit and did something Steve was not capable of doing: they talked.

  I remember quite clearly us all being invited to Simeon’s apartment overlooking the river and close to the hospital where he worked. He lived there alone; he couldn’t persuade Adam to join him. It was expensive, tasteful and perfectly put together.

  We all sat around the table: Sam, Davey, me, Francis, Steve, Gabriel, Adam and our host, Simeon. The food was superbly cooked and the wine was just right. It was the first time Steve had been there, and I could tell he wasn’t enjoying it. His now broad frame rested uncomfortable in the designer chair and he scowled.

  Gabriel and Francis were talking; well, Francis did most of the talking. They described in graphic detail their lives as the Lost Boys. We all sat around entranced at the casual horror of it all. Steve walked out pretty soon after they had started and sat outside on the balcony, smoking cigarette after cigarette.

  ‘He won’t talk about any of it,’ said Francis, ‘and he should.’

  ‘He can’t – and don’t make him,’ said Gabriel quietly.

  Francis only scowled. He loved Steve – that was clear. After the paedophile ring had been broken, both he and Steve had run away from their foster homes and gone back on the game. They had worked the streets together. Now he wanted more than Steve was capable of giving him, and Gabriel had shown his reluctance at anything more than friendship. ‘Two damaged people together is bad news,’ he said. ‘They both need to find someone normal and stable.’

  He was living with an accountant; I don’t suppose you can get more normal than that.

  ‘Do you keep in touch with any of the others?’ asked Sam.r />
  ‘Not many,’ admitted Gabriel. ‘For most of us it hasn’t been good. Some of us were not so much damaged as broken beyond repair.’

  ‘There’s Karim; he’s fine,’ said Francis. ‘He’s found religion – except he doesn’t want to speak to any of us. He’s married a good Muslim woman.’

  ‘Most of the Lost Boys are dead, pimps, whores or worse,’ said Gabriel shortly. ‘Society fucked us up and it doesn’t want us back and that’s all there is to it.’ He looked around us. ‘Stevie will be alright; he has you as his friends; that’ll make all the difference – and they never broke Stevie. He was one of the strong ones.’

  ‘You weren’t there at the end,’ said Francis. He turned to us. ‘Gabriel got too old to be one of us, and Tam sold him to a gangster who liked to have pretty boys around to service some of his clients – a nasty sadist with plenty of enemies and few friends. He didn’t like black boys. I never went to his house but Gabriel was a favourite.’ He paused; I looked at Gabriel, who had dropped his gaze and was staring intently at his plate. I saw an unspoken regret, memories of a life he chose not to share, not openly anyway, only to me for a brief heartbeat. In that moment I knew his pain.

  Francis was still talking. He turned back to Gabriel. ‘You didn’t see what they did to him.’ He took a mouthful of garlic bread and chewed for some time, thinking.

  Gabriel shook his head. ‘Stevie’s strong. That’s why you chose him to look after you all when I left.’

  ‘No, they broke him. In the end they did it,’ insisted Francis, putting his bread back down on the plate. ‘I remember Tam taking him and saying, “Stevie you’re still smiling. You still seem to think the world is a good place. I’m going to change that. I’m going to make you understand.” You didn’t see how they hung him up to dry and gave him to the pack. Tam broke him, right at the end, just before the pigs came. Tam broke him. We all saw it.’

  ‘Who’s Tam?’ asked Simeon.

  ‘He owned us all. Tam was a black guy like me but it was Stevie he loved. Stevie was his favourite. Tam and his girlfriend took Stevie to their bed after work. He was the only one they ever did that to. Said it was a treat. He still wanted to break Stevie though, but it wasn’t till the end that he did it – that Stevie finally stopped smiling. It broke all our hearts. He had such a beautiful smile.’

  I knew that. I had seen it. I had also had enough of the conversation. I got up and walked out onto the balcony.

  Steve was hunched on a chair leaning forward, staring out at the river view, but I don’t think he could see anything. He was smoking and frowning. His elbows rested on his knees. I sat next to him and took his hand in mine. He held my hand as if he was drowning, and I do believe that at that moment he was. He was drowning in unwanted memories.

  A single tear slipped down his cheek; I touched it and wiped it away. He rested his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes. We sat there for two hours listening to Gabriel and Francis speak unspeakable horrors. It grew dark; we sat there and still he could not speak.

  Chapter 25

  ‘The answer is no. You are a traitor to Bràithreachas for even considering it.’

  Samuel winced at the accusation. ‘I am not a traitor to Matrix or his family and the deal has been struck. We had no choice.’

  Cadros scowled. ‘They’ve been too quick in this. They’re running scared. They fear the Brotherhood and another revolution.’

  ‘They have the General,’ responded Samuel, ‘and, more importantly, they have Matrix. Do you really think they fear another revolution?’

  There was silence. Samuel watched Cadros carefully. Of all the Blood Brothers, he had always found Cadros the most unnerving. He had no idea why. The face was soft and gentle, the voice lilting and full of humour, but he knew that, under it all, Cadros was the hardest – and he had just lost a favourite brother, someone he was close to. The two had been called the twins, not because they looked alike – they didn’t – but because of that bond, that closeness.

  ‘I’m not a chess player,’ said Samuel. ‘Not a good one anyway; and neither are you. I’m telling you we had no choice. Someone has to pay the price.’

  ‘Not my brother!’ cried Cadros. ‘I’ve lost one brother already. I don’t intend to lose another; and the General’s too important. We need him now more than ever; with him and Matrix out of the picture the Brotherhood can’t survive. The cause’ll be lost.’

  ‘Why do you think they want him?’ asked Samuel with a sigh.

  ‘They’ll never let him go. They’ll incarcerate him and hope he’s forgotten. Political prisoners are lost men - as good as dead.’

  ‘Isn’t that the point?’

  ‘It won’t work. They tried it with Matrix; it didn’t work then.’

  ‘Matrix closed Belmont down and Finley House too,’ Samuel reminded him.

  ‘There are other prisons just as bad. You hide men away and who knows what those bastards will do to them.’ He paused. ‘We know what they did to Matrix. I’ll not put this proposal to my brother. I’ll not sell him down the line.’

  ‘Too late,’ said Samuel. ‘I’ve already done it.’

  He felt the surprise. ‘What did he say?’ whispered Cadros.

  Samuel looked him in the eye. His own eyes were full of tears. When he spoke, he sounded defeated. ‘He took my hand in his and said, “thank you”.’

  ***********************

  Shortly after the visit from Gabriel and Francis, just when we were all planning our holiday trip to France and Davey’s wedding, Adam became very ill. Since he had come to live with us, having been taken from the clutches of the Reverend Gillespie, his health had improved dramatically and he no longer needed his crutches. But, even so, he was still not strong. At first we put it down to a virus of some sort, but it soon became apparent that it was something more serious.

  When we found out what the problem was, we thought we were going to lose him. He was rushed into hospital late one night and diagnosed with kidney failure. With his poor health, he was, as you can imagine, a long way down anyone’s list for a kidney transplant and something of a liability to operate on. The first problem: the hospital refused a surgeon; the second problem: we had no replacement kidney.

  Robert made up his mind that neither of these complications would stop him saving Adam’s life. He persuaded Simeon to operate with him and our father assisting – well, they were good vets, I suppose. He then lined us all up to find a suitable donor.

  None of us matched.

  Ian and Daniel were brought in and Steve came too. One of life’s ironies was that Simeon found that the man he and Adam had been tormenting for months was the only suitable donor.

  ‘Absolutely not!’ spluttered Simeon when he found out.

  ‘Yes,’ said Robert firmly.

  ‘He probably has all sorts of sexual diseases,’ protested Simeon.

  ‘Test him,’ said Robert. As part of his probation and because of his offence, Steve attended a STDC (Sexually Transmitted Disease Clinic) every month. He was considered high risk.

  Steve was waiting anxiously in a side room when Robert came in with Simeon. Robert went up to him. ‘Steve will you ...?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Steve.

  ‘I’m going to test you first,’ said Simeon.

  Steve shrugged. ‘I was at the clinic a week ago,’ he said. ‘I was clean then.’

  ‘You may have been clean then,’ said Simeon dismissively, ‘but you may not be clean now,’ adding spitefully, ‘Been hanging round Marilyn’s recently, have we?’ Steve ignored him and just held out his arm, which was already heavily marked with needle scars. ‘And it doesn’t mean you’ll be clean tomorrow or next year. You’re a liability.’

  Steve remained silent.

  He was still clean; Simeon had no choice but to operate. He complained all the time saying that if Adam survived the operation he could one day come down with some latent sexually transmitted disease. Robert said he would take his chance. He actually didn’t have m
uch choice.

  Simeon operated and it was a success. Out of spite, he made a terrible mess of Steve’s wound, leaving him a jagged disfiguring scar. Steve didn’t care. He lay in his recovery room afterwards with a serene smile on his face.

  ‘He’ll never forgive me for this,’ he muttered. ‘He’s got a bit of me inside him now.’ He knew Simeon had just butchered his side but that didn’t take the smile away, nothing could, and he was right; Adam did have a bit of Steve inside him and it changed everything.

  Chapter 26

  Morgan walked down the white, clean-smelling corridors. He passed men and women in crisp, fresh uniforms, people devoted to the business of care – all being very careful not to care too much. He came to the private wards, the rooms devoted to the very rich. He had no idea whether Matrix was very rich but he did want him kept very private.

  Two men sat outside one of the doors. They were police officers, plain clothed and discreet. They were meant to be discreet anyway. Morgan could smell the police on them, but it didn’t matter, not many people came this way and, even if they did, all they could guess was that it was somebody important inside; they wouldn’t know who.

  Morgan nodded to the men. They both stood to attention when he walked up. ‘Anything to report?’ he asked, passing them his ID card. They took it reluctantly. He had insisted that everyone had their card checked before being allowed to enter the room and that included him, but they obviously felt awkward doing it.

  They scanned the card quickly and then passed it back. ‘Nothing, sir, the doctor’s in there now with one of the nurses she’s appointed.’

  He nodded again and entered.

  The room was brightly lit and, except for the bed and the machinery surrounding it, empty. They had emptied the room of any surplus furniture and that included the chairs. This patient would not be receiving any visitors; Morgan had made sure of that. The doctor and one of the nurses were standing by the bed. The soft sound of the machines filled the room, clicking, whirring and beeping. Lights lit up monitors showing the patient’s life signs – if it could be called life. The room already had that distinctive smell of stale urine, antiseptic and lotions.