Faceless (3 page)

‘Hark at you! If he is really my son he’ll be able to take care of himself. I had to and I ain’t done too bad.’

‘That, Patrick, is a matter of opinion. But I felt you should be warned. I mean, supposing she decides to pay back a few old debts, eh? Who’ll be first in line?’

Lucy let the words hang in the air for a few seconds. Then she too laughed.

‘Baseball bats and torque wrenches are still on sale locally, I should imagine.’

She was laughing as he stormed from the house.

14

Carole Halter heard the doorbell and looked at the clock beside her bed. It was twenty past nine in the morning. She snuggled into the warmth of her bed once more and closed her eyes.

The doorbell rang again and then a hammering on her front door caused her to leap from the bed naked and storm through the flat. She opened her front door wide, displaying a body that had seen its fair share of wear and tear. The obscenity she was about to scream died on her lips when she saw who was standing there.

‘Marie? Marie Carter?’

Marie smiled at her.

‘Can I come in, Carole?’

She walked into the flat and was instantly assailed by once familiar smells: sweat, fried food, perfume and damp. It brought her back to reality. It was years since she had breathed in a similar foetid odour, only then she had not really noticed it. Everyone she knew then had the same sour smell in their home, like old farts and alcohol mixed together. It was disgusting.

Carole saw her wrinkling her nose up. For a split second she felt the old antagonism return. Then she reminded herself why she had not seen this particular friend for so long and swallowed down the retort.

‘Coffee?’

She made her voice light, but it took an effort.

Marie smiled.

‘Please. If it’s not too much trouble. Late night?’

Carole picked up a T-shirt off the worn sofa and pulled it over her head. It just covered her bum and heavy thighs.

‘I was working last night. I’m in a club now. It’s better money.’

As she put the kettle on she was eyeing Marie. The years had been kinder to her old friend than she would have expected.

‘You look well, Marie.’

‘Thanks, so do you.’

It was a kindly lie, but well meant. Carole looked dreadful, all dark rings under the eyes, wrinkles and dry skin. She looked fifteen years older than her actual thirty-five. Marie realised that she was aware of the fact herself and tried to change the subject.

‘How are the kids?’

Carole shrugged.

‘Bernice is duffed by some coon from Romford, she’s just

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seventeen, and LaToyah is in Borstal. They caught her skanking in Oxford Street. She beat up the arresting officer.’

Carole grinned.

‘Always a lairy bitch, her. Broke the geezer’s nose and split his eye. She got bird, bless her. Her baby lives with foster parents and I visit every fortnight. Nice people, good house and that. I wish they could keep the little fucker - and her Shaquille is a fucker with a capital Fuck!’

She laughed at her own wit.

‘Got a mouth like a sewer and she’s only three.’

‘Like her mother then. I remember LaToyah was a swearcr.’

Carole placed two mugs on the cluttered table.

‘She certainly was. Remember when she called your Tiffany a cunt and Tiffany jobbed her?’

She laughed again.

‘Like you, Tiff. Deep waters, her.’

The laughter was suddenly gone from Carole’s voice.

‘I’m not supposed to be here. I’m on licence, like. So keep this under your hat, eh?’ Marie told her.

Carole nodded as she lit a cigarette.

“Course. You’ll be on licence for life. I mean, that’s what happens after a murder stretch, ain’t it?’

Marie nodded but didn’t answer.

‘You do look well, though. You’ve hardly changed.’

Marie had heard enough compliments. She got to the point.

‘Where’s Patrick, and what’s he doing now?’

Carole had been expecting the question.

‘Ain’t you heard from him?’ Her voice was incredulous. ‘The black bastard! Are you telling me in all these years that ponce never kept in touch?’

Marie smiled now, a real grin.

‘What do you think? You never wrote or visited. No one did.’

Carole drew deeply on her cigarette. Silence hung in the air like the smoke.

‘I understand, Carole. It was all a long time ago. And, I mean, it ain’t like I was in for shoplifting, is it? I had a fucking big lump and I accept it all now. I have done me time and don’t want any more trouble. I just want to see me kids.’

‘Ain’t they told you where they are then?’

Marie shook her head.

‘I ain’t asked and they ain’t offered. Enough said. Tiffany is just

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nineteen and Jason is seventeen. All I want to know is that they’re OK. But I don’t want everyone knowing what I’m about. I’ll see them in me own time.’

‘If they want to see you, you mean.’

‘In a nutshell. So where is Patrick these days?’

‘Gone right up in the world, him. Still runs women but with drugs as a sideline. He owns a gym and a wine bar, too. All blonde birds and BMW these days. Thinks he’s the dog’s gonads.’

Marie grinned.

‘No change there then?’

Carole laughed with her, felt herself relaxing at last.

‘Nah. No change there, girl. But I don’t think he sees anything of Jason. Last I heard the kids were in a home in Wales. I saw your mum a few years back.’

‘How was she?’

Carole shrugged.

‘Same as usual, acting like her shit didn’t stink. Do you know something, Marie? That is one bastard of a woman.’

Marie didn’t answer her.

‘Where’s the gym?’

‘Spitalfields, you can’t miss it. There’s a dirty great big sign saying “Pat’s Gym”. Real nineties stuff. Glass windows so they can train and show off all at the same time.’

Marie smiled.

‘Why am I not surprised?’

Carole gripped her hand tightly.

‘It’s done my heart good to see you, love. We’ll have to get out one night. Tie one on like the old days.’

Marie removed her hand and shook her head sadly.

‘I couldn’t cope with all that now. Those days are gone and I want to leave them like that.’

Carole’s face creased into a frown of concern.

‘Well, how are you going to live?’

Marie sipped at her coffee to give herself time to think before she answered.

‘They’re going to help me get a job and eventually a place to live.’

Carole lit another cigarette and blew out smoke noisily.

‘Are you telling me you’re going to go and work in a factory for a couple of ton a week when you could earn that and more in a night?’

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Marie nodded.

‘I done a degree inside. I also did computer studies, IT. I’ll get by without flashing me clout.’

She tried to make it sound like a joke but it fell flat. She knew Carole was in complete and utter shock.

‘You! You did a degree? What in, for fuck’s sake - blow jobs?’

Marie closed her eyes tightly before answering.

‘No, actually, it was in English literature. And I did a certificate after that. I could teach if I wanted to.’

Carole grinned.

‘I know they’re crying out for teachers in this day and age but I expect even sink estates would think twice about a double murderer, don’t you?’

Marie didn’t answer, just stared at her with dark blue eyes that seemed to look into Carole’s very soul.

‘I’m sorry, that was out of order,’ she said nervously.

Marie stood up.

‘It was true, and even I can’t argue with the truth. But I’ll keep me head down and see what happens. I’ll be in touch, eh?’

Carole nodded.

‘If you need anything, Marie, you only have to ask.’

‘I know, mate. Thanks.’

As she walked away from the flat she was aware of her friend’s eyes boring into her back. Marie knew she had made a mistake. Carole had always had a loose lip and now word of Marie’s visit would be all over Silvertown within hours. But she had not known where else to go for information.

Seeing Carole had reminded her of a life she wanted to forget. She could still smell the odour of decay on her clothes as she stepped on to the bus.

Amanda looked at Marie as she sat down in the office of the halfway house. As duty probation officer Amanda had seen her fair share of murderers come and go but there was something different about Marie Carter.

She was self-contained, but then a long stretch did that to a body. This was different in that the woman before her seemed to have stopped living. She was just going through the motions and it showed. It was almost painful to watch her.

‘How was the Job Centre?’

‘OK.’

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Amanda had long since realised that it was like pulling teeth, getting any reaction from Marie, so she took a deep breath and commented, ‘You were a long time.’

‘I was walking. It’s so long since I could wander around, look in shops…’

Marie’s voice trailed off.

‘I understand. How are you adjusting?’

‘OK. It’s early days.’

Amanda nodded reassuringly.

‘It gets easier.’

Marie didn’t answer her.

‘Is there anything specific you want to ask me?’

‘My children?’

It was out before Marie knew what she was saying.

Amanda had been expecting the question. Had been surprised not to be asked immediately. She smiled again, uneasily this time.

‘They have been approached and both have declined to see you. I’m sorry …’

Marie nodded. She had expected as much. Standing up, she picked up her bag.

‘I think I’ll go out and walk again, if that’s all right? Try and get used to the area.’

‘Certainly. Grab a coffee and get your bearings. Don’t forget you have a curfew - six-thirty.’

Marie didn’t turn back to face or answer her. Instead she walked from the office and closed the door quietly behind her.

Out in the street tears slid down her face and she wiped them away angrily. It was what she had expected, but it didn’t make it any easier. They had blanked her. Her own kids had blanked her.

And who could blame them?

Lucy walked out of work and made her way to the bus stop. A red car pulled up beside her and she looked down into the face of Mickey Watson, her boyfriend.

‘Have I done anything wrong. Luce?’

His voice was heavy with fear and she felt a moment’s sorrow for the way she had treated him. She got into the car and smiled gently at him.

‘It’s me, Mickey. Something happened and I’ve been worried about it.’

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‘What’s wrong, mate? You can tell me.’

She looked into his big moon face. He might not have the looks but he was a decent, kind man and that was what she wanted. When she was with him she was a nice person - he made her nice. Made her feel nice inside. Since childhood Lucy had had a nasty streak in her. It all stemmed from her jealousy of her sister. She knew that, but it didn’t help. In fact it just made it worse because she couldn’t control the urge to hate, and hate deeply, unequivocally.

‘Marie’s out.’

She saw his change of expression.

‘Your mum won’t like that, Mickey, will she? The murderer’s loose again.’

He didn’t answer her.

‘Is she living back home then?’

Mikey was terrified of his mother’s reaction and it showed.

‘Don’t be so bloody wet! Of course not.’

‘Where is she then?’

‘How the fuck should I know where’s she’s living? Why would I want to know. I’m telling you before someone else does, that’s all.’

‘All right! Calm down, Luce, for fuck’s sake.’

‘I hate her, Mickey. She ruins all our lives and then thinks she can just waltz back in as if nothing happened.’

‘Well, I can’t see your mum giving her house room, can you? It’ll be a nine-days wonder and then everyone will forget about it.’

She could hear the hope and desperation in his voice.

‘Do you think so?’

He nodded vigorously.

‘It’s nothing to do with me and you, is it?’

She shook her head.

‘I suppose not. But your mum …’

‘Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’

He kissed her on the lips.

‘Stop worrying. What can she do to us?’

Lucy didn’t answer. She knew exactly what her sister was capable of, especially when she found out about her kids, and she would find out. She had always been a sifter, had Marie. She sifted information and calculated what it meant to her. The fact she had come to their front door spoke volumes. She was out … and out for revenge if Lucy knew anything about it. She herself would be, in 20

her sister’s place. Oh yes, she would settle a few old scores if she was in Marie’s shoes.

But she didn’t voice her opinion. As Mickey said, they’d cross the bridges as they came to them.

They had no other choice.

21

Chapter Two

Marie answered the loud knocking at her door, frowning to see a woman standing there. She had dark backcombed hair and heavy black eyeliner. She smiled at Marie, her false teeth too big for her mouth.

‘Marie Carter?’

It was a statement more than a question.

Marie nodded.

The woman held out her hand in a friendly manner.

‘Sally Potter. I’m next door.’

Marie shook hands, saying nothing.

‘You can call me Sal,’ her visitor said encouragingly.

‘Thank you.’

The woman grinned.

‘I done a lump, love, murder like yourself. Been out nearly eight months. ‘Course, I topped me old man, and give his bird something to think about and all. I thought I would introduce meself, that’s all. I ain’t trying to pry or nothing. If you fancy a bit of company give me a knock, OK? It takes a few weeks to acclimatise, like.’

She smiled again and walked off.

Marie shut the door, her heart hammering in her chest. She sat on the bed and listened as the radio blared through the thin wall. Closing her eyes, she sighed heavily. She wanted out of this place and she wanted out soon. Everyone wanted to pry into her business, everyone wanted something from her and she had nothing to give.