Faceless (59 page)

son’s house. Inside, her heart was singing at the thought of being in

his company once more. If she hadn’t had Jason she didn’t know

what she would have done.

Alan was in his flat packing a case. He was clumsy, the large amount

of Scotch he had drunk affecting his co-ordination. He had been

drinking for twenty-four hours solid and it was taking its toll. He

was trying to shut the case when the door went.

He opened it with a flourish and saw Steve Gamble standing

there.

‘All right, Alan?’

He nodded.

‘Can I come in?’

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The man’s voice was friendly enough and Alan stepped back to

let him into the flat.

‘What you going to do, Steve?’

The other man shrugged.

‘It’s nothing personal, Al, you know that. But you done a wrong

‘un. You know it can’t be left like that.’

Alan walked unsteadily into the lounge.

‘Was it Teddington?’

Steve nodded.

‘He’s as slippery as a fucking greased eel. He’d sell his granny for

a river and he got considerably more for you, I should imagine.’

Alan laughed.

‘I should fucking hope so!’

Steve was depressed. He liked Alan, always had. But he had a job

to do and that was that.

‘Kneel down, Al.’

Alan looked into the man’s face. He had drunk with him on

numerous occasions. Gone to barbecues at his house with his family,

and now Steve was going to kill him. Friendship was worth nothing

in their world once you transgressed the rules. He was a grass and

he was finished.

‘There’s twenty grand in the bedroom …’

Gamble held up his hand for silence.

‘Don’t, Alan. You can’t buy your way out of this.’

‘I don’t want to, Steve. You’re doing me a favour really. The

insurance will pay out for the wife and kids, and they won’t get

hassled by people looking for me. I meant, take it and give it to my

old woman.’

“Course I will, Al. Like I say, this is nothing personal.’

Alan knelt down. He knew Gamble would do as he asked, he was

a straight-up geezer. As he waited for the inevitable he concentrated

on a photo of his three little girls and the knowledge he would

never see them again was hard.

But he knew this was for the best, especially for his children.

Gone he was old news and they would not try and get to him

through his kids.

But he was sorry he had wasted so much of his life on chasing the

dollar, on betting on the horses and drinking and drugging in

scummy clubs with scummy people. He could have been a millionaire

now, twice over, legally. And he could have taken his kids away

on holiday and done the things regular people do.

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Instead he was going to die on a sunny day when he was still fit

and well. There were people dying all over the world through

illness, starvation, whatever. He was dying through his own greed

and stupidity. It was laughable really, except he didn’t think he had

a laugh left in him.

The gunshot was loud and unexpected. He dropped forward on

to the carpet with a surprised expression on his face.

Steve Gamble picked up the money and placed it in a Tesco

carrier bag. Then he left the flat and went to his car. He was

whistling as he drove away. Alan Jarvis was already history.

Karen Black was in her cell. She was crying, really crying, and one of

her cell mates snapped, ‘Put a fucking sock in it, will you? You’re

getting on my tits!’

Karen sniffed loudly, trying to stem the flow, but it was impossible.

She glanced down at the letter again and the tears started once

more. She could not believe what she was reading.

Her mother had in effect cut her off from the family. Wanted

nothing more to do with her. Said they all felt the same. They

would not visit her or write to her, and she was requesting that

Karen stopped writing to them. They had no interest in her any more.

She screwed the letter up into a ball.

Her solicitor had said she should get her head around a long

sentence. The prosecution was refusing to let her plead to a lesser

charge. She was up for attempted murder, and the state her victim

was in would be seen in the courtroom because Louise Carter was

going to give evidence. No jury in the land would find her anything

but guilty.

Her argument, that she’d thought there was no one in the house

when she torched it would go nowhere. As her brief had pointed

out, why had she blocked off the exits if she’d thought the place

was empty? She had to have known there was someone in there

whatever she said. She was better holding up her hand and taking it

on the chin.

But Karen was frightened. She didn’t want to be in prison for

years without anything on the outside to keep her going, and yet

that was what was going to happen. It was ironic really, because she

knew it was exactly what had happened to Marie Carter. Karen

would have to walk in her shoes now and she wasn’t sure she had

the guts to see it through.

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She was crying again, her face awash with tears.

Juliana, her cell mate, jumped off her bunk and punched Karen in

the head with all the force she could muster. The blow was heavy

and loud.

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Juliana was screaming now, fed up with the noise. She had just

been informed that her two children were going into long-term

foster care because their father had disappeared off the face of the

earth, and she realy wasn’t in the mood for this miserable bitch at

the moment.

Karen knew that this environment was all she could hope for in

the years ahead. She had thought she was violent until she had come

in here. Her head was smarting from the blow and she felt an urge

to scream at the sheer terror building up inside her.

She couldn’t do the time. She knew already she couldn’t do jail

time. But all her options had been taken away from her. She had no

say in what happened to her any more.

Like Marie Carter before her she was doomed to serve a sentence

without anyone giving her even the time of day or any letters from

home to cheer her up. Her Petey was dead, and in effect, so was

she. It was like being one of the living dead. Going through the

motions of breathing, of living, but for what reason?

She started to cry again and Juliana rolled her eyes to the ceiling

and shouted, ‘Grow up, woman! You were big enough and ugly

enough to get yourself in here. So be a woman and take it on the

chin, for fuck’s sakes. And stop that whining, I’m trying to think!’

Karen just buried her face in the pillow and cried her heart out.

Self-pity is a destructive force as she would find out over the next

few years.

Louise Carter was alone in her hospital room. She was in bed

because she felt tired even though it was only early afternoon.

A sympathetic nurse had told her it was the pain. Louise had felt

like laughing when the girl said that to her. Telling her about pain!

These people didn’t know the meaning of the word!

She had experienced pain all her life, and extreme pain from the

moment she had seen her dead son. His face gone, his lovely

handsome face destroyed by the gunshot. And all because of her.

Marie.

She closed her eyes to try and shut out the mental picture of

Marshall without his face and her husband looking at her with that

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accusing stare he could summon up when it suited him.

She knew the neighbours had laughed at her behind her back

because she’d bragged about her son’s achievements. But it was just

jealousy, nothing more and nothing less. He was cut out for better

than hanging around the streets like their children. Marshall was

going to be someone, and as honours were heaped on him she

would bask in the reflected glory. That had always been her dream.

The pain was burning in her hands once more, but still she flexed

them. She was terrified of losing her hand movement. It was her

biggest fear.

She didn’t care about the facial scarring, she would wear those

marks with pride and had refused any offer of skin grafts. At her age

she didn’t care what she looked like. But she wanted her hands

mobile so she could arrange the flowers on her son’s grave. She had

made the priest promise that he would take care of it until she was

better, and being a priest he had to do what he said because he was

a man of God. She hadn’t bothered to ask her lazy bitch of a

daughter.

Lucy had no interest in anything other than getting a man. All man

mad, the lot of them. Like Marie she was, deep inside. A right pair of

them she had given birth to. Louise closed her eyes once more as the

pain shot up her arms. But still she carried on flexing her fingers.

She heard the door open and kept her eyes closed. The nurse

might think she was asleep and go away and leave her alone. She

was sick of the lot of it: saline drips, painkillers, ice baths, the whole

kit and caboodle. She wanted to go home. Except she didn’t have

one any more.

The presence was still in the room and Louise opened one eye.

‘Oh. It’s you.’

Her voice was bored-sounding.

Lucy stood at the end of the bed and did not say a word. The two

women eyed one another.

‘Well?’ The single word was spoken with disdain and it set Lucy

off.

‘I’ve been to see Dad.’

Louise’s flexing was getting faster, a sure sign she was agitated.

‘He’s in Rampton. The mental hospital.’

‘So I heard. What do you want, Lucy?’

‘I just wanted to see you. Dad’s been talking about you a lot.’

There was something about Lucy’s voice that was wrong. The

usual whine was gone from it.

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‘Really? How thrilling. We’ve been married long enough, I

should imagine he would talk about me. Fuck all else going on in

his life, boring bugger that he is.’

Lucy grinned.

‘He can’t stop talking about you and Marshall.’

She was looking straight into her mother’s eyes now and they

connected like they had never connected before. Lucy saw her

mother afraid for the first time ever. It was almost tangible it was so

acute. She breathed in, convinced she would be able to smell it. But

all she could smell was the stench of sickness, aqueous cream and

the odour peculiar to all hospitals - disinfectant and urine.

She wondered at the fact that she could feel no pity for this

broken woman in the bed, but Louise’s hatefulness had stopped

anyone pitying her. In fact, she seemed even stronger since the

accident. Was stronger in some respects because she bore battle

scars to prove her righteousness. She was quite convinced she’d

acted for the best. How she could have allowed Marie to go away

for all that time without saying a word was the most amazing thing

Lucy had ever heard. But it was all for Marshall as usual, her son,

the light of her life. He had to be protected no matter what.

‘I’m living somewhere else now.’

Louise was glad of the change of subject and it showed.

‘Really, where?’

Lucy’s voice was matter-of-fact as she explained, ‘I’m living with

Dad’s girlfriend Susan. She’s a really nice woman. Mum. You

wouldn’t like her, though. Not really your cup of tea. But then,

that’s probably why Dad and me like her so much. And Marie.

Marie really likes her. Even more than I do, I think. She’s the

opposite of you, Mum, a really nice woman.’

Louise Carter felt as if she had been slapped in the face.

‘How could you do this to me, Luce? Knowing the state I’m in

thanks to that bitch Marie, how could you come here and do this to

me? Your own mother. Have you no decency, no compassion?’

Lucy shook her head and said in a bored voice, calculated to

inflict on her mother the maximum hurt, ‘Nah. None whatsoever.

But then, I had a good teacher, didn’t I? You, Mum.’

‘Get out!’

Lucy laughed at her mother’s display of anger.

‘But I have a visitor for you. Mum. You don’t get many, being so

unpopular, like. What with the neighbours avoiding you like the

plague and that.’

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She chuckled at her own wit.

‘I said, get out, Lucy, and don’t come back!’

The old Lou was back with a vengeance now and she was furious.

Lucy called over her shoulder, ‘Come on in, Marie.’

She grinned at her mother and said lightly, ‘A family reunion,

Mum. Isn’t that lovely?’

Lou’s eyes stared in horror as she saw her eldest daughter walk

into the hospital room. To see the two girls together was shock

enough. But Marie had the same calm look about her she had had

as a small child. That accepting demeanour that had driven her

mother mad whenever she had picked on her and got no reaction.

It was strange because she had pushed the girl for a reaction for

years and when she had finally got it, it had exploded in her face.

‘Hello, Mum.’

Marie’s voice was quiet and pleasant, something her mother had

forgotten. Seeing her standing there she was reminded of how she

had always been a help with Lucy as a little girl. She had always loved