Page 5 of The Last Bench

He was still there. This wasn’t a nightmare.

Once John nodded for her to carry on, Anne said, ‘Well, he leaves Wexford at three o’clock, picks up an Abrakebabra takeaway, then drives home. He lives down a quiet lane off the N25. It only allows one-way traffic. Tiny.’

John knew where Hinges lived. He’d been there himself six years earlier. Plotting, planning, hating. Until he’d come to his senses and returned home to his grieving family.

‘I created a diversion by parking up outside the entrance to the only other house on the lane. The only option for him to get past me was to ask me to move. I had the hazard lights on and sat tight.’

John clutched his chest as another pain struck him. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. While he was in the office each day, meeting clients, his wife was plotting to do God knows what to a drug dealer.

‘He wasn’t happy with me. Not a patient man. Anyhow, I told him I was waiting to see the young couple who live down the road from him, who were both at work. And, as I told you, I was careful. I knew that they wouldn’t be home from work until at least six thirty.’ Anne looked smug with this detail and looked at John expectantly. She wanted him to acknowledge and praise her planning. His head swam, and he wished he’d taken that drink now.

‘Anyhow, Hinges told me to get out of his effing way – honestly, the mouth on him, shouting out of his window, honking his horn. I got out and told him my car had a dodgy battery and needed a jump-start, but I didn’t know how.’ She smiled, ‘I told him that the lever to pop the bonnet was on the passenger side. Sure, he had no choice but to help. I knew he wanted to get to his Abrakebabra.’ Anne frowned. ‘I did consider giving him a belt across the head with the jump-start box. It’s heavy enough, and I reckon I could have knocked him out cold with it. But I was worried I might kill him. And I didn’t want to kill him.’

‘No. That would be ridiculous,’ John said sarcastically.

‘Exactly. We need him alive. As he sat in the passenger seat, I put a chloroform-drenched rag on his mouth. Got it from a pharmacy. He was out like a light in seconds.’

John felt his jaw slacken as it hit the floor. He’d known Anne for more than forty years, ever since they were children. And there were many times that he’d been surprised by her. But this was new territory.

‘Once I’d tied his legs and arms, and knew he couldn’t move, even if he woke up before we got home, I moved my car into the entrance of the Fox’s bungalow, which gave me the space to drive Hinges’s car down the lane to his house. I turned the engine off and threw his keys through the letterbox. Oh, and I took his takeaway, because I was afraid it might look odd if someone saw it uneaten in the car.’

‘You thought of everything.’

‘I did. I even wore gloves, so that I didn’t leave any fingerprints.’ Again, that flash of pride on her face, and for a moment, despite himself, John couldn’t help but feel impressed with her too.

‘I drove home and, honestly, those twenty minutes felt like the longest of my life. I mean, what if we met a Gardaí checkpoint? He looked like he was napping in the passenger seat, but what if he woke up? Thankfully, it was a dream of a drive. As if someone was looking out for me – our guardian angel. I managed to pull him out of the car and into the wheelbarrow. He was still out cold. The back doorstep was tricky for me, as you know. I made myself a cup of tea and watched him from the kitchen window, waiting for him to wake, which was about ten minutes before you got home. I think that’s you all caught up!’

John shook his head slowly as he tried to make sense of his wife’s words.

‘I know it’s a shock for you. And you must have lots of questions for me,’ Anne said, gently.

There were dozens of questions John could have asked, but only one came to mind, to which he was frankly terrified to hear the answer. Nevertheless, it had to be asked. ‘Now that you’ve got him here, what do you plan to do with him?’

Five

John

7 April 2025

John led the way through their private garden towards the top field. He heard Vega take a sharp breath as she took in the majesty of the landscaping for the first time.

‘You did all of this yourself,’ Vega said, her eyes flitting around her.

‘Every single slab of concrete was cut and laid by John,’ Anne said, smiling at her husband. ‘There’s not much in our house or garden that he didn’t have a hand in creating.’

John felt a flush of embarrassment at the praise, coupled with pride. He knew he had accomplished something special here. But he’d had help, especially over the past ten years.

Vega whistled appreciatively, ‘I’m not handy at all. I bought a pack of those stick-on picture hangers. No nails. What could go wrong? Well, apparently, a lot.’

They all chuckled at her joke.

‘Well, I might be good with a hammer and nail, or a shovel, but Anne is the one with the good eye,’ John said. His mind wandered back to his wife, a newly-wed, sewing curtains for their first home – a static caravan – trying to make it look pretty.

‘This is a big site. What is it, an acre?’ Vega asked.

‘Almost one and a half. The house sits on three-quarters of an acre. The rest is in what we have always called the top field, but the public knows as the blossom maze,’ Anne said, a little breathlessly.

John frowned, changing his pace for Anne. She had slowed down over the past year, and it worried him. Stairs and hills, once easily tackled, now made her hesitate. He had insisted she visit their doctor for a complete check-up. Everything was fine apart from her blood pressure, which occasionally acted up – nothing to worry about, bar the usual complaints of someone slowing down in their seventies.