Faceless (53 page)

had the gall to try and fuck him over. He was absolutely livid. He

was meeting with his boys and they had better come up with some

answers or he would want to know why.

This was typical of the British mentality. He did all the collar, the

hard work, and now some little firm thought they could capitalise

on it. Well, it was not happening. No fucking way. If it was the

Yardies he would have heard by now, he kept a couple of boys in

their camp to be on the safe side, and anyway they would just have

taken him out. This smacked too much of retribution; this was

revenge, and he was racking his brains trying to think of someone

who’d worked for Malcolm Derby and would actually have the gall

to front him up. He could think of no one at all. He also had to

allow for the fact that someone in his pay was giving out to all and

sundry about his business. That was another thing he had to think

about.

As he pulled up at Maisie’s flat he saw the gleaming BMWs of his

workforce and sighed. Why didn’t they all just leave out a dirty

great fucking sign saying: ‘Meeting going on, knock on the fucking

nearest door’.

He was surrounded by a bunch of fucking morons, but then

again, what was new? He didn’t want anyone too intelligent

working for him because they eventually wanted what you had. It

was the unwritten law. But this lot were just above the level of a

class of five year olds and he had to have a good sort out in the near

future.

As he walked past the line of cars he scratched his keys down the

side of each one. He couldn’t even get parked at his own meeting!

What a fucking performance this was turning out to be.

He stomped towards the building and was amazed to see Marie

Carter standing in front of him. She had walked out of a doorway

right into his path.

356

‘All right, Pat? Long time no see.’

Patrick looked at Marie in abject horror. She was the last person

he had expected to see tonight.

‘Well, well, well. Marie Carter. What the fuck do you want?’

‘You took my baby …’

Patrick laughed. ‘Oh. That’s what brought you here, is it? Little

Tiff

She stared at him warily and he started talking to her again.

‘She was a whore, like you are.’

As he spewed out his venom to the woman he had destroyed, he

saw the iron bar coming towards his face but as he tried to sidestep

it, he stumbled.

Marie hit him, over and over again. And with each blow she felt

the anger and the hatred leaving her body. Eventually she stopped.

Breathing heavily from her exertions, she smiled down at his

crumpled form.

‘That was for my Tiff

Then she walked away from him without a backward glance.

It occurred to her that she had killed again and probably

jeopardised her relationship with her son and granddaughter. But

someone had to take Patrick Connor out once and for all.

It seemed fitting that it had been her.

Kevin Carter was screaming out obscenities at everyone and anyone.

Heavy sedation had been prescribed and he was now being held

down once more and injected with Librium.

‘By rights he should be out cold!’

The night sister was always amazed at what the human body

could take when it was under pressure. A tall thin Nigerian woman,

she had worked on agency at the hospital for over four years and

was more than aware of the state of mind of each of her patients.

‘Keep hold of him until the drug takes effect.’

The two male nurses and a female orderly held him tightly. They

did not need to be told to keep hold of him; one man was already

sporting the beginnings of a black eye from their last encounter.

‘What set him off?’

The nurse shrugged.

‘Who knows? He was talking away to old Sally about his kids,

she was smiling and nodding like she always does - God knows she

doesn’t know what’s going on from one day to the next - when he

suddenly started going berserk.’

357

The female orderly said quietly, ‘Whoever this Lou is, I hope he

don’t get hold of her. He hates her.’

Kevin was still talking, quietly now but they were wary of letting

him go.

‘She knows I know all about her and what she can do. I should

have told but it’s too late now. My girls are destroyed … Both of

them destroyed. She should have been burned up a long time ago,

the fucking old bitch! What she done to those two girls was wrong,

so wrong. My daughters were both ruined by her …’

‘Shhh now, calm yourself, Mr Carter. You are in hospital,

remember?’

He was nodding. His eyes were closing but still he fought to keep

himself conscious. They held him till his body relaxed and his pulse

was back to normal. Then they let go of him.

‘Off his trolley!’

The Nigerian nurse nodded sadly.

‘Poor man.’

‘He is a murderer, don’t forget.’

The female orderly was in her element. She kept her neighbours

regaled with stories about the patients on her ward. At the moment

Kevin Carter was a favourite topic of conversation.

‘How can we forget when you keep reminding us?’

Kevin was still mumbling in his sleep. He was quieter for the rest

of the night, but his explosive outbursts were getting more violent

and frequent as the days wore on. The doctors would have to up his

medication before someone got seriously hurt.

As she wrote up her report the nurse wondered what the fate of

this man would be. Prison would not be the answer, he was completely over the edge. Sighing, she stretched and wished the

night would end so she could get herself some well-deserved sleep.

Mickey was upset and it showed. With his mother at Bingo he was

now acting the man of the house. The fact that he had told Lucy she had to find somewhere else to live was forgotten in the surprise of her turning up in a taxi to collect her stuff. She looked different somehow. More in control, more relaxed. For some reason her doing what he had asked had wrong-footed him. Especially as she

had done it so quickly. It occurred to him that she might actually

have wanted to leave. There was also the fact he was going to miss

her and that was the worst thing of all. He had been all ready to

Front up his mother for her as well!

358

As she dragged the bags out to the waiting taxi he didn’t attempt

to help her. But she didn’t ask him to either so he let her get on

with it. As she walked back into the house she said, ‘You could have

folded the clothes up for me, Mick. Most of the stuff is new and

hasn’t even been worn yet.’

She said it without any animosity whatsoever but the words set

him off.

‘You should have packed yourself then.’

Lucy laughed and that annoyed him even more.

‘I could hardly have packed if I didn’t know I was leaving, could

I? Anyway, who’s rattled your bleeding cage? I’m doing what you

wanted so why you have the hump I don’t know. Perhaps you’re

going through the change. You’re like an old woman, perhaps

you’re turning into one.’

She laughed once more at her own joke until she saw the look on

his face. Then she surprised them both by saying gently, ‘Come on,

Mick, play the white man. How can you be cross with me when I’m

only doing what you wanted? Or, more precisely, what your mother

wanted?’

‘Where are you staying?’

‘With a friend.’

He didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t aware she had any

friends. Not close friends anyway. They both had lots of acquaintances

but neither had an actual bosom pal. With mothers like theirs

friends were never encouraged, there was always something wrong

with them, and so eventually they stopped bringing people home.

‘Who are you staying with then?’

She shrugged.

‘No one you know.’

He was suspicious now and thought it might be another bloke.

‘Male or female?’

‘Who the fuck are you, the friend police? Giving me the third

degree like you own me or something.’

He was taken aback and it showed.

‘I thought we were supposed to be engaged, Lucy? In case that

fact has slipped your mind.’

He was self-righteous now, on his dignity, and she wanted to

laugh at him again.

‘Hark at you, you pompous little twat! I was under the impression

we were engaged as well until I got me fucking marching

orders from you and the East End’s answer to Bonnie Parker. But I

359

think we both know it’s time for a rethink, don’t we? I ain’t

marrying your fucking mother, mate, I have enough trouble with

the one I’ve already got. So you think on that when she gets in

from Bingo and wants you to make her a cup of tea while she

regales you with stories of how she “only wanted one number” all

fucking night. What woman in her right mind would want to take

that on?’

She walked out of the door and he grabbed her arm, pulling her

round to face him.

‘I want to know where you’re staying!’

‘And I want world peace, to win the Lottery and a shag off

Denzel Washington, so like me you’ll know what it’s like to want,

won’t you?’

As she walked down the path the cab driver smiled at her. He was

about thirty-five, dark-skinned with thick black hair. That smile

tipped Mickey over the edge.

‘Who’s he fucking smiling at?’

As he spoke his mother turned into the street with one of her

cronies, Gladys Lancaster. She was like his mother, old before her

time, dried up and vicious. Lucy thought it all highly amusing.

Inside she was pleased to see Mickey was jealous. It proved to her

that there was a man in there somewhere.

Only a small man, she admitted, but a man nonetheless.

For the first time in ages she was in control and it felt good. He

was looking at her like he used to before they got bogged down

with the wedding preparations and their mothers. Before he let her

boss him about and she had lost all respect for him.

‘Oh Mickey, don’t be silly.’

As she spoke his mother came up to them with her friend.

‘Good riddance to bad rubbish, that’s what I say.’

She’d had a couple of brandy and ports, plus four barley wines in

the Bingo hall, and was ready for a fight. She was determined to see

Lucy off and determined to do it now. In fact, if it was left to her

then her boy would live with her for the rest of her days.

‘Mum!’

Her son’s voice was high.

‘Don’t you “Mum” me! You’re better off without her and the

tribe she comes from. You can do better than the Carters.’

Lucy opened the taxi door without even answering. The driver

was finding it all highly amusing and his laughter was making Lucy

want to laugh too.

360

‘Drive.’

Her voice was full of suppressed laughter as the taxi pulled away

quickly from the house, leaving Mickey, his mother and her friend

speechless.

‘She’s gone then?’

He heard the satisfaction in his mother’s voice and answered her

in a shout that could be heard three streets away.

‘It fucking looks like it, don’t it? Happy now, are you? You

fucking miserable old bag!’

Her face was ashen as she watched her son stalk off down the

street in his slippers.

Her hand was still pressed over her mouth in shock as Gladys said

happily, ‘What a bleeding night this turned out to be.’

Mary Watson had won three hundred pounds with a full house,

hence the over-indulgence in drink. But it meant nothing now as

she realised she had finally gone too far. Like his father before him

Mickey had his limit and she had pushed him over it this night. She

had won a few battles but she had a feeling Lucy Carter would win

the war.

Marie had lain in the bath at the hostel for over half an hour and

now she was lying on the bed in her room, staring at the ceiling.

She could not believe what she had done, what she was still capable

of doing.

All those years of controlling herself were for nothing. The

degree, the hours of dedicated learning, trying to be a better

person, were all for nothing. She was still a killer and this time she

didn’t have the excuse of drugs.

She had always had a temper, had always been capable of taking

care of herself. At school she had been the best fighter in her year

and had been proud of that fact. No one had dared to mess with

Marie Carter, and when she had gone right off the rails, her

reputation as a hard nut had made it all the easier because no one

had the guts to tell her to her face what an arsehole she was.

When she had had her Tiffany at fifteen she had looked everyone

in the eye with a steely glare and no one had ever had the front to

say anything to her face. It had become a habit in the end. The

worse she was, the more aggressive she got with people. That way

they didn’t say anything to her she didn’t want to hear. No one ever

had the guts to tell her where she was going wrong because they

were too frightened to. Then the drugs had taken over and it had

361

seemed at the time like a natural progression. She was bad, wasn’t