Faceless (11 page)

71

She was smiling amiably as she walked over to the woman who was the cause of so much heartache in the firm. But as she was also the union rep she got away with murder.

‘I have the address here.’

She handed Karen an envelope with the details scrawled on it.

‘Good stuff.’ Karen grinned. ‘Glad you ain’t my sister.’

The barb hit home. If Marie had been her sister Karen would have taken on the world for her, she implied. The Blacks didn’t care that their relative had been on the streets and a druggie. That didn’t bother them. The blood tie did. Bethany had been family and that was that. Unlike Lucy’s own family who believed that what the neighbours thought was more important than whether you were having a nice time, or a good life. The neighbours were her mother’s yardstick for everything.

When the Patels had moved in her mother had had a blue fit. The thought of Indians in the street had done her head in. That was until she found out Mr Patel’s son was a pharmacist, and that he owned the pharmacy in the little block of shops nearby. He had assumed saintly proportions then.

In fact, her mother would cheerfully have had the whole population of Asia in her street rather than the next new arrivals, the McDuffs, a crowd of swearing, screaming Irish. But they had bought the house and that was that. If their Friday night cabaret annoyed everyone else, it sent her mother demented: the night out at Bingo and then the pub and the fight afterwards in the street.

Mrs McDuff could give as good as she got so the couple were evenly matched and her husband often came off the worst. Their son was in prison for armed robbery, and so Mrs McDuff saw herself and Louise as kindred spirits, which did not go down well at all.

‘Marie is going to regret ever leaving prison, you realise that, don’t you?’ Karen gloated.

Lucy shrugged.

‘Big deal. Can I have an in on the paper scam then?’

Karen laughed.

‘No! What would we want you in on it for? How could we trust you for a start?’

‘What do you mean? Of course you can trust me.’

Karen looked her over and obviously found her wanting.

‘You just grassed your own sister up. I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you now, love.’

72

She saw the look of confusion on Lucy’s face.

‘You just don’t get it, do you?’

Lucy shook her head. ‘Get what?’

‘You’re scum, Lucy. Whatever Marie did she’s still your sister. I’d have her any day of the week over you, love. She was out of her nut when she topped everyone. But you are as sober as a judge and you still want to tuck her up. I’d have had more respect for you if you’d told me where to get off.’

‘If she’s so great then why do you want to give her a hiding?’

Karen sighed heavily.

‘You really are that thick, ain’t you? It’s family, ain’t it? Family loyalty. Bethany was me cousin and she was topped so I have to have something to say about that, don’t I? My mum took her kids in so they didn’t go into care. It’s what you do, isn’t it?’

Lucy didn’t answer.

‘Your mother should have took Marie’s kids - people would have thought more other if she had. Stuck-up bitch she is! You can tell her that from me. She is really disliked round these parts. She should have looked after them kids and made some sense out of it all. They hadn’t done anything wrong, had they?’

Lucy felt as if she was getting an education in life in double quick time. All those years they’d thought everyone had admired the stand they had taken when in fact it was the opposite.

But her mother had not wanted the kids, especially the boy. He was half-caste but too dark for her to cope with, and the girl was Marie all over again. Big trap as well as stroppy.

If her mother knew what people really thought it would kill her. She set such stock on what others thought of her. How she was perceived.

That was the trouble, they all did, Lucy included. For all the good it had done her. As Karen walked away she felt the urge to cry.

Tiffany listened with half an ear to the girl beside her. She was wittering on about how much money there was to be made in Manchester. Her sister had gone up there and was now the proud owner of a convertible and a big black pimp who was the dog’s gonads.

‘I was telling Pat Connor about it last night and he’s going to look into it.’

She had Tiffany’s undivided attention now.

‘You saw Pat last night?’

73

The girl, Lauren, nodded craftily.

‘Went to a party near Praed Street with him. Had a right laugh.’

The girl’s long blonde hair was tossed back as she spoke. Tiffany knew she was trying to wind her up and smiled evenly.

‘I hope you used a condom, love, he’s got the big syph.’

She saw the girl’s face pale.

‘It’s them Russian birds, see. All dosed up to the eyebrows, ain’t they? He’s been buying them from Jimmy the Greek to work the black rooms.’

Tiffany was smiling sweetly now.

‘Looks like you better get your arse down the Old London and have a check up, eh?’

The girl screwed her eyes up and laughed.

‘You’re a fucking windup!’

Tiffany opened her eyes wide and said innocently, ‘Am I?’

Then she walked from the room.

In the toilet she pressed her forehead to the cold tiles and sighed. He was a bastard if he was pulling from her own workplace. But inside she knew that was what Pat did. He put a girl in then moved in on the action. It kept the girls fighting and made sure he got all the gossip. Prostitutes grassed one another up without a second’s thought. It was in their nature.

She felt the familiar sickness inside her and made herself walk back into the girls’ changing room. She picked up her bag nonchalantly and went back to the toilets. As amenable as the club owners were about grass and cocaine, crack was strictly off limits. It was a fighting drug, even more so than coke or speed. Previously mousy girls had turned into demons after a smoke. It was the downside. The euphoria was so short-lived it was over in a moment and then the craving was twice as bad as before.

In the few weeks since she had been introduced to it Tiffany knew it had taken a grip on her. She also knew that was exactly what Pat wanted. But the need for it was too great now. It was put above everything else.

As she inhaled the little rock she felt only blinding pleasure and all else was conveniently forgotten.

Even Anastasia.

Marie got off the train and walked wearily out of the station into the cold night air. It was just after six and dark as hell. The street lighting was bad, but she knew the route well now as she had been

74

walking it for so long. She was looking forward to a bath and an early night. It was Friday and while everyone else would be getting ready for a night on the town, she was still under a six-thirty curfew.

It didn’t bother her, though, not tonight. She was tired out and tomorrow she was going to see her father. He would have news of the kids, she hoped.

As she turned the corner, she felt someone behind her. She’d half turned to see who it was when something hit her heavily on the side of her face.

She crumpled to the pavement.

She knew that feet and instruments were raining blows all over her, but was powerless to stop them. She curled up into a ball and covered her face. It was all she could do.

People watched but did nothing to help her. They just hurried on their way. After what seemed like hours she was pulled to her feet.

Karen Black looked into her face nastily.

‘This is for Caroline and Bethany, you murdering cunt!’

Her fist encased in a knuckle-duster hit Marie square between the eyes. She slumped to the ground then, losing consciousness.

Karen and her two sisters carried on the beating for another five minutes. Finally, spent and sweating, they spat on the prostrate form before running off. They knew they were in the clear. No one was going to call Old Bill. Not until they were well and truly off the scene. It was the law of the street and as far as they were concerned, it was a good law.

A Hindu woman and her daughter finally got an ambulance. They stayed with the unconscious woman until help arrived and then disappeared.

Kevin had just finished his dinner when the phone rang. He picked it up casually and said hello. Louise stood watching as his face turned paler and paler.

‘Where is she?’

She saw him nodding. Then he put the phone down and went to get his coat.

‘What’s wrong? Is it Lucy?’

He shook his head sadly.

‘No. What you on about, woman? It was one of the workmen. Mrs Harper’s kitchen’s flooded and she’s doing her crust. I have to go round there now.’

He rushed out of the door and into his van, Louise’s eyes

75

following him distrustfully. If he was seeing another woman again that would be it. He thought she didn’t know about his other life but she did. He was like all men - his cock was both god and brain to him. Well, he had a short sharp shock coming to him if he thought he was going to start all that crap again. If this one was another screamer, he’d be looking for someone with a bollock donor card before the week was out.

She dialled 1471. Number withheld. Well, that told her all she needed to know.

She poured herself a large medicinal port and sat down to await his homecoming. Her eyes strayed to her son’s photographs. If only Marshall had lived, how different it would all have been.

Marie opened her eyes painfully and then closed them immediately. Her whole body was screaming and she felt sick. She tried to open her eyes again but all she saw was the starkness of the white ceiling above her.

‘How are you, love?’

Her father’s voice was quiet. She tried to smile but it was too painful. Instead she squeezed his hand and drifted off to sleep again.

‘Are you sure she was mugged?’ he asked.

Kevin’s voice was controlled now, the edge of fear gone since he had seen her for himself.

‘Well, her bag’s not gone for a start. She probably fought for it.’

Amanda Stirling stared into his face.

‘Do you think it’s not a mugging then?’ she asked. ‘Only if it was something else it could get her locked up again, you see.’

He stared at her in complete incomprehension.

Amanda looked earnestly back at him.

‘If it was, say, a beating because she had done something, or was involved in something, then that something would have to be illegal, wouldn’t it? And if she’s involved in anything illegal at all then she goes back inside.’

He realised then the enormous burden his daughter carried in order to enjoy her new ‘normal’ life.

Amanda continued, ‘She can go back inside just for associating with her old friends, or anyone with a criminal record. She has to be on her guard twenty-four hours a day. The police are treating this as a mugging but if you think it’s something different then you have to tell them.’

Kevin carefully made his face a blank.

76

‘Nah. It was a mugging, of course it was. Why would anyone want to do her? She ain’t even seen anyone, I know that much.’

The probation officer nodded sadly.

‘She’s a nice woman. I think she’s paid the price and deserves to be left alone now.’

He didn’t answer her but knew she still thought there was more to it than met the eye, as he did. Well, his daughter could do nothing about it but he could. He had been handy in his day and would ask about, see how the land lay. See who he could find who might have some news for him.

It was a world he had left years ago but it was a world he was willing to enter once more if it would help his daughter, lying battered and bruised in her hospital bed. Louise might have made them respectable but old habits died hard.

Whoever had done this had better watch out. Kevin Carter was going to get them.

Karen Black was in the pub. Her face was flushed with excitement and her breath was coming in short shallow bursts. It had gone like a dream and she was the Queen of the Friday night fight. Everyone knew what she had done because she had told them all about it. Drinks were being bought for her and the backslapping was phenomenal. Her husband was proud of her, her brothers were proud of her, and the regulars and friends in the pub were all toasting her.

‘Fucking whore got what she deserved! When I think of Caroline and Bethany … Now she’ll know what it feels like, won’t she?’

She was so high on adrenaline and hate, she was euphoric.

‘Yeah, she’ll know what it’s like to have a baseball bat round the head. I hope she fucking dies in the Old London, I really do.’

She didn’t really, not deep down. She would rather die herself than be banged up for a big lump but it was all part of the act. Part of the persona.

‘I’ve done me bit for British justice so who’s going to have a drink with me then?’

Karen was shaking from her taste of violence. Real violence. It was heady stuff.

Her brother Luke, a large skinhead with tattoos, grinned as he passed her a vodka and Red Bull.

‘I wonder what Pat Connor will have to say, Kal? Gonna take him on and all?’

77

He was laughing at her and she knew it. Trust Luke to piss on everyone’s fireworks.

‘He can fuck off and all. I did it for this family, mate. For justice.’

Her niece Tamara smiled sadly.

The mum would have been over the moon, I’m sure.’

Karen was nonplussed.

‘I did it for you. Tarns, for what you lost.’

Tamara sighed heavily.

‘What did I lose, eh? A skaghead mother. And what did I gain? You lot. Thanks a fucking bunch.’

Karen watched her walk from the pub.

‘Ungrateful little bastard!’

Luke laughed again.

‘Runs in the family.’

‘Bollocks to the lot of you!’

Luke’s laughter followed her out of the pub.

78

Chapter Six

Alan Jarvis opened the door to the Portakabin with a flourish. The girl with him tripped over the step and practically skidded into the room. They were both drunk and laughing.