Faceless (39 page)

Why did this always happen to her? Why did women hate her so much on sight without even trying to get to know her? She could

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have understood it if she was half-naked or if she flirted with their men, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t.

But Verbena was like her own mother. Her son was her all and no other woman was ever going to take him from her. Verbena had the same dead-eyed look as Louise and the same body language. Her smile never reached her eyes. She had a coldness to her face that seemed to reach out to Marie and lodge itself in her heart. She was more than aware that as far as Verbena was concerned, Marie Carter was not welcome in this house or their lives, particularly Jason’s, and she never, ever would be.

It wasn’t just because she was Jason’s real mother; it went deeper than that and Marie knew it. This was a jealousy that was out of control. It would have been the same if she had been his girlfriend. Verbena was full of hatred for other women and if Marie wasn’t careful it would be turned on her full force.

She would have to tread warily because she wanted this boy in her life more than she had ever wanted anything before. It was a dream come true. And through him she might even gain access to her daughter and grandchild. She could maybe have a bit of family around her, what she had dreamed of for so many years.

She’d just have to pretend she didn’t notice anything and hope for the best. But it galled her that once more in her life she was at the mercy of an unhappy and vindictive woman. She forced a smile and made herself concentrate on her son. He at least was pleased to see her and that in itself was a miracle as far as Marie was concerned.

Alan was at Thurrock services once more. As he stood by smoking a cigarette, he kept his eye out for the Scania lorry that was going to deliver his cargo to Newcastle. This was a new venture, but with Tilbury docks having so much gear arriving on a daily basis it was good business. At least as far as Mikey was concerned.

Alan was not so sure. In fact he wondered what the hell he was doing here in the first place. He must have been mad.

The smell of diesel hung in the air, and the thunder of traffic on the M25 was loud and disturbing. He thought about Marie and hoped she was OK. He knew she was seeing her son. Mikey had let the cat out of the bag and Alan was hurt that she had not even mentioned it to him. But then again, why should she?

Things were still strained between them. It didn’t matter what he told her, he knew he was never going to accept Marie and Mikey being together. It had given him the push he needed to expel

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Devlin from his life. Alan wanted out and he was going to get out, no matter what. It might cost him, but it would be worth it.

His mobile rang and he answered it. The drop was all ready to go ahead and he glanced around him to make sure everyone was in place. He felt sick with apprehension but this was something he had to do. He had no say in it whatsoever.

Which didn’t make it any easier.

Tiffany was still at Carole’s and she was completely out of her head. The rocks were the only things she wanted. Needed. They had taken over every other feeling she had. Suppressing even her mothering instincts, which had been strong, they made her forget all the troubles in her life. The only bugbear was, the problems were still there when she came down, and then the depression caused by the crack made them seem much worse than they had been before. It was a vicious circle and she hated it. But she was in a no-win situation now and just had to go with whatever made her feel good at the time. This was her life and she had accepted it.

She understood why her mother had gone like she had. It had been because of Patrick Connor; he had worked his evil magic on her too. He was a destroyer of people, had been doing it for years. It had been in this very flat he had first taken Tiffany under his wing, bullshitting her about her mother and what a whore she had been. How he had tried to help her because she was the mother of his child. Tiffany’s brother.

She had needed him then; just out of the council home and in the real world all alone, he had seemed like a rock to her. He had been so handsome, with money, a nice car, and well respected. Everywhere she went with him they were treated like royalty. She had been swept off her feet, had thought she was so clever. So on the ball. Then she had had the baby, and that was when he had changed towards her. The rest was a complete and utter travesty of love. He had taken her and given her drugs, talked her into whoring and made her into the person she had tried so hard not to be. Her poor mother … the woman he had said so many bad things about and convinced Tiffany was scum. But her mother had tried to help her and Tiffany had turned away, while simultaneously wanting to feel her arms around her and wanting to have her nearby.

She had just not realised it. Had not realised how lonely and frightened she was. The man who had made her so happy a little time before frightened her now. The man who had told her he

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loved her and wanted her more than anyone else in the world had deliberately set out to make her into the girl she was, a watered-down version of her mother. Or the mother he had told her about anyway. The one who had abandoned her kids, dumped them and lived for drugs. Well, Tiffany had done the same thing and yet she knew she wasn’t really bad, just weak and unhappy. If her mother were here now she would beg her forgiveness. But it was all too late. Patrick Connor had knocked all the decency from her body and shame made her want to keep away from everyone, especially her own little daughter.

Like her mother she was ashamed of what she had become, and the more ashamed she became the more drugs she wanted to consume. They, at least, killed the pain. Tiffany hated herself inside and out, Patrick had seen to that. She had absolutely no self-respect any more.

He had done his job well, she would give him that much.

She heard the door and didn’t even open her eyes. She assumed it was Carole back from work. She had drunk the last of Carole’s whisky so was expecting a row but wasn’t too worried. She should have dumped the cards by now and received the money for them, so they’d have a few quid to see them through the next few days. Then Tiffany would have to go on the street, but it would be far away from London. Far away from her daughter and brother. She was resigned to being alone now. Anastasia was better off without her.

She could smell herself, a sour smell like milk that had been left in the sun for a few days. But it was a comforting smell as well. It told her she was still alive. She watched the colours behind her eyes, bright vibrant colours that she loved to see. There was a whole world behind her eyelids that she had not enjoyed since she was three years old.

As she relaxed back on to the dirty cushions she felt a hand wrap itself around her neck and her eyes flew open to see Patrick’s face close to her own.

‘You smelly, dirty cunt! I have you at last.’

The fear was so acute she felt faint. She could smell his breath and was acutely aware that he could smell hers. He threw her back on to the cushion and she saw the look of disgust that crossed his face and closed her eyes against it.

‘You are crunched, girl. I will make you sorry you ever decided to try and think for yourself. All I have done for you and this is how you repay me, is it? You made a complete cunt of me and you

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‘Did you think I’d let you get away with it?’

He was poking a finger into her chest and it hurt, but she knew it was nothing to the hurt she was going to experience before too long.

‘You are dead. Tiff, so you better start saying your prayers, mate.’

He slapped her heavily across her head and she felt her ear split. He wore a heavy keeper ring, and though the pain was sharp she was beyond feeling it. She was used to it. She didn’t even cry, just looked up at him sullenly.

He saw the look and slapped her again, but he had a plan for her and was careful not to make her look any worse than she already did.

He cut himself a line on the dirty table and she watched enviously as he snorted it.

‘Carole will wonder where I am.’

She was clutching at straws and knew it.

He grinned.

‘It was Carole who told me where you were. Tiffany. She’s five grand better off, the ugly bitch. She couldn’t wait to sell you down the river, love. You ain’t got no mates, you ain’t got nothing.’

She kept quiet. She knew the last thing to do now was antagonise him.

‘See what you cost me? See all the trouble you cause, and yet you still think you can treat me like shit, don’t you?’

He was gone, she could see it from his eyes and decided to keep quiet and do what he wanted. Someone had once said that he was a psycho and they were right. Even without drugs he was unpredictable and vicious.

‘I killed Maxie and Eddie today over you. Both good grafters. Maxie was the closest thing I had to a mate and now he’s dead. All over you. Tiff. I hope you’re happy now?’

She knew that he really believed she was the cause of what had happened. He was good at blaming other people for his own mistakes. According to him he never, ever did anything wrong. It was always someone else. Today it was her turn to take the blame.

She was finally convinced of the lunacy of the man before her and becoming more and more terrified by the second.

‘You just don’t realise the trouble you have caused me, do you? Well, it stops now. I am going to sort you out fucking once and for all.’

Tiffany was dragged from the sofa and even though her legs were like jelly she allowed him to frogmarch her from Carole’s flat.

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People were going about their daily business as he threw her in the car but she knew no one would interfere. It was that kind of neighbourhood.

You could be stabbed to death in this street and no one would have seen or heard anything because it made life safer to keep yourself to yourself.

Jason was more aware than any of them realised of what was happening with his adoptive mother. He also understood it all on one level. But his real mother, his birth mother, had affected him strongly. To feel her near him brought joy. She was beautiful and he could feel kindness exuding from every pore other body. It was like his dad said: she had been a victim, like Tiffany was a victim now. She needed understanding and she needed him in her life, just like he needed her. He knew all this already, and he was going to talk to Verbena about it as soon as he could and reassure her that his birth mother would never take his adoptive mother’s special place. He loved his adoptive mother and needed her as well.

As he listened to his real mother’s voice, low and husky, he knew that this was someone who was good inside. It shone from Marie like a beacon. Whatever she had done, it had been many years before when she had been a different person. He had seen what drugs had done to his sister and understood that.

He felt he could look at her for hours, she was so still and tranquil. She made him feel calm and complete.

He heard Verbena calling him from the kitchen and excused himself. There were sandwiches and a cake ready to be brought into the lounge. He plastered a wide smile on his face as he walked to his adoptive mother’s side.

‘Thank you for doing this. Mum, it looks scrumptious. I know how hard it must be for you.’

Verbena looked at the boy she adored and forced a smile to her face.

‘It’s the least I can do for the poor woman. I just hope we’re doing the right thing, that’s all.’

‘What do you mean?’

Verbena shrugged.

‘Well, think about it. From prostitution to prison, drug addiction to a beautiful home like this. I’d be very careful for a while if I were you. She may only be out for what she can get. After all, that’s what people like her do, isn’t it?’

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She saw the hurt on his face but couldn’t stop herself now.

‘Look, Jason, I don’t want to upset you, son. But people like her, your so-called birth mother, they just use people. Especially men. Why do you think she’s all over your father, eh?’

Jason was nonplussed, unsure where his mother was going with this.

‘What do you mean? Dad likes her as much as I do. She’s nice.’

Verbena could see the confusion on his face as he tried to convince himself that she meant no harm. Even though deep inside he knew better, knew what she meant to do and was trying to avoid a confrontation. She had always been protective of him and he had appreciated it over the years. He had never called it jealousy before, but he knew there had been an element of that to it. If he had said he liked another boy’s mum, for instance, she had always been miffed. He had learned very young how to be a diplomat.

‘Of course your dad likes her, Jason. She is making sure he likes her. I don’t want to speak ill of the poor woman but I have to speak as I find. Don’t forget what she was, is - a murderer and a prostitute.’

Jason stared into the face of the woman who had been everything to him for years and was surprised to find he didn’t really like her. He loved her, but he had never liked her, and at this moment in time he was also feeling another repressed emotion which was anger. She often made him angry with her throwaway remarks. Like when his friend Thomas’s mum had come round. She was fat and jolly, always laughing, and his mother had said she was OK, but just a bit too loud. ‘A touch common’ had been her exact words. It had angered him at the time.

‘That was a long time ago. Why don’t you leave her alone! I want to know her and I will know her, whatever you try and say.’

Verbena sensed the animosity coming off her child and felt sick at the thought of what he was saying. He would prefer that thing to her? The woman who had loved him, adored him, all his young life? It was as if a cancer had split open and all the poison was pouring out.

She was whispering feverishly as she grasped his shoulders, ‘She may be your birth mother but that means nothing, nothing. I was the person who fed you and loved you. I don’t really see why you need someone like her in your life. Her own family didn’t even want her …’