A Genuine Mistake by Ted Tayler (miss read books txt) 📗

Sean, “but the committee listened to Nick Barrett’s advice that they could benefit from encouraging a special talent to blossom. Byron played his first tournament there soon after his fourteenth birthday.”

“That was in 2010?” asked Gus.

“That’s right. Byron won that tournament, and everyone sat up and took notice. Nick Barrett was right. The club’s image went up several notches, and better players from the region applied to join.”

“You continued to play at home, just the three of you?” asked Blessing.

“Yes, we did. Because Dad could tell that Byron needed to get used to proper match conditions, he tried to make things in the games room as authentic as possible. When the three of us played together, one of us acted as a referee and marker. Dad bought a pair of white gloves. While I watched Byron compile yet another hundred break against me, Dad pretended to be Jan Verhaas, the Dutch referee. He’d been on the World Snooker scene since 2003. Dad was tall and distinguished-looking, like ‘Jan the Man’, and he’d try to get the accent right when he called out the break. They were the happiest times I remember. Byron will say the same.”

“How did you react to your father’s relationship with Rachel?” asked Blessing.

“It was awkward, at first,” said Sean. “When Mum died, it felt as if we’d never get over it. I cried for weeks. Aunt Belinda had always been part of our family, and she did her best to fill the gap, but she wasn’t Mum. It was Dad who changed the most. He spent every minute of his free time with Byron and me. He never took us anywhere with Aunt Belinda. When he met Rachel, they just clicked. Byron and I were too young to understand what was going on, but right from the start, Dad included Rachel. We met her at a restaurant first, then a month or two later we went abroad on holiday together. A week in Portugal. After that, Rachel moved in with us. Rachel made Dad happy. She was always good to us, and not once did she ever try to become our Mum. She told us when we were on that holiday always to call her Rachel.”

“The awkwardness soon disappeared, and you never doubted that she loved your Dad?” asked Blessing.

“Never,” said Sean. “Aunt Belinda got it into her head that Rachel wasn’t good enough for Dad. The more she tried to split them up, the less time Dad had for her. Dad continued to spend as much time with us as possible, and Rachel took up the slack. Aunt Belinda wasn’t needed to babysit us anymore. I was thirteen when Rachel moved in. Dad only went out during the evening on a night when Rachel didn’t have a fitness class. I went into the games room with Byron, or we watched TV with Rachel.”

“Are you able to talk us through events on the evening your Dad died?” asked Gus.

“I think so,” said Sean. “I’ve been through it enough times this past six years. I’ll never forget. Dad told us after Mum died that there was no time limit on grief.”

“Was it a typical Sunday?”

“We had decided to spend the weekend at home because of the World Snooker Final. We watched TV for long periods on Saturday. Whenever there was an interval, we dashed into the games room to play a few frames. We had a late breakfast on Sunday, watched the afternoon session, and Rachel cooked a meal for us to eat at around five o’clock.”

“Was that normal?” asked Blessing.

“No, we often ate at lunchtime, especially when the four of us were going out for the afternoon and evening. Dad thought it gave us more time to play snooker before the evening session started.”

“You were in the games room when the front doorbell rang at six-thirty,” said Gus. “Why didn’t one of you answer?”

“Byron saw the light flashing,” said Sean. “It distracted him, and he missed the last red. The black was on its spot, and he only needed the yellow for yet another century. He swore. Dad told him off. The light didn’t flash again, so we thought that either they’d gone away, or Rachel had answered. She was in the gym working on a new routine.”

“Did you have a TV in the games room?” asked Blessing.

“Yes, a small one. We usually tuned it to one of the sports channels with the sound off.”

“You said earlier that you watched TV in the lounge with Rachel.”

“We did,” said Sean. “Rachel enjoyed all sorts of shows. Comedies, dramas, quizzes. We didn’t watch sport twenty-four seven.”

“What happened then?” asked Gus.

“I kept an eye on the screen while Byron was racking the balls for a new frame. I saw Ronnie O’Sullivan leaving his dressing-room. The camera tracked him to the top of the stairs, where the MC does the big build-up to bring the players into the arena. Ali Carter was just leaving his dressing room. I knew Dad wanted to see the whole session, so I gave him a call.”

“What could you see in the hallway?”

“Nothing, except the front door was partly closed. I went back to the games room to watch the build-up.”

“Then what happened?”

“The next thing I heard was this dreadful scream. Byron and I ran into the hallway. The front door was wide open, and Rachel was on her knees, cradling Dad’s head in her lap. There was blood everywhere. We couldn’t move. I remember grabbing Byron’s hand and clinging to him for dear life. Not again, I thought. We’d lost Mum, and now Dad was dead.”

“Did you hear the gunshot?” asked Gus.

“We didn’t hear a thing,” said Sean. “Byron had turned up the volume on the TV, and when the door was closed, it was difficult to hear anything outside. That’s why Dad put in the