Faceless (58 page)

He laughed again and Lucy wanted to cry for the man she’d

loved as a father and who seemed to her now more like an

overgrown child.

He was gone, completely tipped over the edge. Like Marie, he

had killed. Unlike her, it had sent him off his head. Although Sue

had told her what to expect Lucy still could not equate this

scarecrow of a man with the strong father she had lived with for so

many years.

But then, he wasn’t that strong. Not really. He had been ruled by

her mother as they all had.

‘Have you seen your mother?’

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Kevin shook his head at his own question and carried on talking

without waiting for an answer.

‘Of course you haven’t! No time for her girls her, only had time

for Marshall. God rest his soul, she drove him fucking mad with

her stupid ways and her pseudo-middle-class shit. He wasn’t all

bad. God love him. She made him like it. Made him weak because

she always took care of him, didn’t she? At the expense of the rest

of us.’

No one answered him. They just listened, both guessing that he

needed to get it all off his chest.

‘She protected him and I protected her. Why did I do it, eh? And

who protected you, Marie?’

Susan saw Lucy’s eyes widen as she realised what her father had

said and her heart went out to her. She held on to Lucy’s arm as she

made to leave.

‘Stay. This is the most he has spoken since he arrived. Let him say

his piece.’

Lucy stayed in the chair but the hurt lay heavy on her heart. It

was always Marie for him, and her mother had had her Marshall, so

where the fuck had that left her all these years?

‘Them poor kids dumped. I wanted them, I did! I told her we

should have them, but then Marshall killed himself and she had the

breakdown and that was when I knew I had to keep me trap shut. I

let you go away because I was terrified that if the truth came out it

would destroy Lou. Now I wish it had destroyed her.’

Kevin started to cry.

‘I’m sorry, Marie, please forgive me. She used it against me in the

end, see. Because I let you go away, she knew she had me. I did it

for her, for her son, and so people wouldn’t know what had

happened …’

‘What are you talking about. Dad?’

Lucy’s voice was small. She wasn’t sure she actually wanted to

hear what he was going to say.

‘All those years it ate away at me like a cancer. She knew … your

mother knew, deep inside. But because I couldn’t tell her she used

it against me, do you understand that?’

Lucy shook her head.

‘Explain what happened. Dad. Please.’

‘I heard her at him - Marshall. She knew he’d been at the squat

that day. She knew he’d been to see you, Marie, and had searched

his room. He was a dealer and she had known that for some time.

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She blamed Patrick Connor, of course, but it wasn’t just him. It was

always in Marshall’s nature to go after easy money. But Marshall,

you see, was in deeper with Connor than she’d realised. When he

told her it was Connor who had beaten those girls to death, had

actually seen him do it, Lou went berserk. He told her he’d kept

quiet because he was terrified of her finding out what he was really

doing. That’s how deeply she affected him. And she decided she

would rather Marie went away and those two children were left

motherless than have people know that her wonderful Marshall had

gone off the rails. She was terrified of the neighbours finding out

what he really was.

‘He was her golden boy, see, the one she held up as a beacon of

goodness to everyone. The truth getting out would have killed her.

As it was, it destroyed their relationship. He still hadn’t told the

whole truth, see? That’s why he shot himself. I think he knew he

was cornered by her. She had said she would kill herself if he went

to the police and that would always be on his conscience. By this

time Marie had been charged, and even she thought she had done

it. Everyone thought she had. It had gone too far.’

He lit an Embassy cigarette with shaking hands and puffed on it

deeply.

‘But you didn’t know the extent of his dealings with Connor, he

made sure of that. He knew you’d cause trouble over it. Always

looked out for her brother and sister, did Marie.’

He looked into Lucy’s face.

‘Didn’t you, darling? Tell her what I’m saying is true.’

Lucy looked at Susan and nodded her head.

‘See, she knows the truth of it. Over the years after his death Lou

convinced herself that Marshall just lied to help his sister out of

trouble. Do you see what I’m saying, mate? Yet another good thing

he had done in her eyes. She had it all worked out to her own

satisfaction.’

He was shaking his head once more and the sadness in his eyes

and voice was so terrible that Lucy closed her eyes.

‘Even I believed it. Until I found his note after he topped himself.

I still had it. I hid it in a safe place. I don’t know why I kept it but

it’s all burnt up now, I suppose.’

He laughed. ‘Like Lou, burnt to a fucking crisp!

‘In the letter he said that he got to the squat with Patrick, and

Marie was out of it on the floor. Stoned out of her skull as usual. It

was then that the argument started and Patrick lost it. Marshall said

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in the letter that he picked up a baseball bat to stop Bethany

attacking Patrick. Marshall killed her with the first blow. Caroline

lost it then, and that’s when Patrick Connor and he both went

berserk. Marshall was on mescaline, see. He was as out of it as his

sister. He’d been using for a while. He said in the letter that

afterwards they wiped the weapons and then placed them in Marie’s

hands to put her prints all over them. She was covered in blood

anyway; it was all over the ceiling, everywhere. Marshall was

terrified by what he had done, and what his mother would do if it

ever came out, and that’s when he decided to shoot himself.’

Kevin started to cry again.

‘And I never done anything about it! I let my daughter rot

because my wife was so devastated by her loss, I dare not give her

any more grief over her son. So what does that make me, eh? But I

hated her for what I’d done; I hated her from that day on. And she

knew I did. She fucking well knew!’

He was sobbing and Susan and Lucy stared at him with their

mouths open and their eyes wide.

Lucy broke the spell.

‘Oh, Dad.’

He put his arms around her and said loudly, ‘I am so sorry, Marie.

I was caught up in her fucking madness, you see. I am so fucking

sorry for what I did to you. Forgive me, Marie. Please, forgive me.’

389

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Marie felt as if she had had the weight of the world taken off

her shoulders. Even though she was more than aware that

she had seriously hurt Patrick, that meant nothing compared to

what she had thought she had done. The knowledge that Mikey had

done the real killing for her made her feel strangely humble. He

was bad, and she had known it, but he had tried to help her and

she was grateful for that.

He had been a villain, but then he had never pretended to be

anything else. He had given her peace by his actions and she would

always remember that.

She looked around the room that had become her home and felt

strangely nostalgic for it. She knew that was because she had been

convinced she was going back to prison so even this little place felt

like a haven. But she knew she had to leave now and go out into the

world proper. It would be a big step for her but she would do it, for

her son and for her granddaughter and ultimately for herself.

She would immerse herself in her remaining family and try and

make amends for the years she had lost.

Time passed, slowly but surely time passed, and with each passing

year of her life imprisoned as a murderer she had felt stronger and

more able to cope with what she had done. She remembered lying

in her cell, knowing the door was bolted on her and the light was

turned off. Durham had been so cold. Even in the summer it had

been chilly. Cookham Wood had seemed like a five-star hotel after

that place. But no matter where she was she would think of her

children, try and imagine them at the age they would be. Scramble

for memories of them: their smells, skin textures, any little fact to

hold on to. To cherish as a reminder of her time with them, wasted

in her stupidity.

Unlike the other women she had no photos to keep them fresh in

her mind. No pictures were sent in, no childish letters to look

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forward to. She had had nothing. Not from her kids or anyone else

for that matter. Even her father had abandoned her. She had done

her time alone, both physically and mentally. Now it was time to try

and make a different life for herself. She had been given another

chance and must not waste it this time.

The hardest part was going to be burying her daughter but she

knew she had to do it and do it with dignity. People would come

not so much to mourn as to catch a glimpse of the famous

murderess. She knew that. Faces from the past would seek her out

under the pretext of paying their respects to her dead daughter.

But it was her son she would be strong for. For Jason.

She had an interview with a social worker on the coming Monday.

Amanda had arranged it for her and Marie was going to find out

about access to her granddaughter. Amanda seemed to think she was

entitled to see Anastasia.

Marie wasn’t so sure. She wasn’t the normal grey-haired granny

they were used to dealing with. But she was going to try; she had to

do that much for Tiffany, and for Jason who wanted to have contact

with his sister’s child.

As Sally said, she had to stop dwelling on the past, especially the

recent past. She had to mourn a child and a lover. She would do

that as best she could, hopefully with dignity and forbearance. After

all, she had mourned her children for many years; they had been all

but dead to her for so long.

But every time she thought of what she had wanted to do to

Patrick, had tried to do to him, she felt her resolve start to waver.

She was still capable of inflicting mortal damage on people who

hurt her and had to make sure she kept herself away from any

potentially explosive situations. Unlike other people she had to take

a back seat because she could not trust herself when hurt or upset.

The knowledge still made her feel like a freak of some kind.

She glanced at the mobile phone on the night table and noted

that it was still turned off. She decided she didn’t want to hear from

Maisie again. She would throw the bloody thing away. She didn’t

like them anyway. They were intrusive and made you accessible

twenty-four hours a day. Didn’t people feel they wanted any peace

any more, on call twenty-four seven? She found it almost Orwellian.

No one seemed to have any privacy. CCTV cameras everywhere you

went and even TV programmes dedicated to watching complete

strangers make arses of themselves. It was a different world from the

one she had left all those years before. Although they had had TV

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and computers in prison their viewing had been controlled and so it

had not really made any impact. Now even little children were

computer literate. Knew about soap operas and adult problems. It

was amazing how much everything had changed.

Even this Archer scandal, which had inadvertently knocked Mikey

off the front pages, was all a scam. He wouldn’t do any real time,

not like she had done and countless others were still doing. She had

come out to a pretend world, filled with pretend people. She had to

learn to survive in it if she was going to have any real chance in life.

And she was determined to have a life of sorts. Even if it was always

to be tinged with sadness and regret, she was going to live her life

to the best of her ability, not just for her but for Tiffany as well as

Caroline and Bethany. Otherwise it had been a waste of time. All

the hurt and the pain would have been for nothing.

She glanced at the little travelling clock that had ticked away

beside her all through her years in prison and saw it was time to go

to Jason’s house to discuss the funeral arrangements.

She glanced at herself in the mirror and saw a woman in a shabby

suit. She had good skin and a trim figure and the saddest eyes in the

world. But she was alive, she had a son and a granddaughter, and at

last she was looking to the future. Tentatively maybe, but at least

she now felt she had something to look forward to.

So many people couldn’t even say that, could they?

Count your blessings was going to be her new philosophy. She

was also keeping her old prison mantra, which was tried and tested:

It’s not what happens to you but how you deal with it.

She had forgotten that one - and look where it nearly got her.

She closed the door of her room gently and made her way to her