Somewhere to Hide (The Estate, Book 1) (21 page)

‘You can’t help me. No one can help me.’

Cathy watched her go up the stairs and into the bathroom. She sat on the bottom step for a moment. Running a hand through her hair, she let out a huge sigh. Not so strong now, am I, Rich, she thought, imagining him laughing at her. Only he had seen the real Cathy: tough on the outside, susceptible on the inside. If he were here, he’d tell her she was being a soft old bird. But she couldn’t help worrying about them. It hadn’t been two weeks since Becky had lost her baby. The chatter that she’d overheard confirmed the rumours that they were still hanging around with Danny Bradley and that Austin fella but what could she do about it?

A thought crossed her mind. Was Becky grieving so much for the loss of her baby that she’d get herself pregnant again? Cathy hoped not. Not so soon after she’d miscarried and definitely not with Danny Bradley. Danny Bradley was a thug, a well-known thief on the estate and a no-good layabout. If Becky got mixed up with the likes of him, then Cathy wouldn’t be able to stop her getting in deeper and deeper. She was certain it was Danny that had got Cheryl hooked on drugs – she hadn’t come home for two weeks either. Still, it was no use worrying about her too. There was only so much of Cathy’s mind that she could occupy with other people.

Minutes later, she heard a door upstairs open and close. Sighing loudly, she made her way to bed. Maybe, just maybe, she could get through a night without being dragged out of it again.  

At the top of the stairs, she could see Becky’s bedroom door slightly ajar. She crept up and pushed it open. Already Becky was gently snoring. She listened for a while before closing the door softly behind her. Then she stood in the silence for a moment.

Her chest began to rise and fall rapidly. She placed a hand on her heart, felt its thump-thumpety-thump, the panic building up inside her as she gasped for air.

Sometimes the responsibility of it all was too much for her to bear.

After a thankfully uneventful morning at the community house, Cathy had hardly set foot on the driveway before Jess and Becky were out of the front door and running towards her.

‘We’ve been robbed,’ Jess told her.

Cathy’s heart sank. She rushed into the house expecting to see a mess but nothing seemed to be out of place.

‘I thought you said –’

‘Nothing’s been touched downstairs except the photo of you and Rich.’ Jess handed her the photograph in the frame. The glass was broken, the corner of the frame hanging together by a small tack. ‘And the tin that you keep all your notes in.’

Cathy frowned. ‘How did you know about that?’

‘I’ve always known about it, since I moved in.’

‘Ever taken anything from it?’

‘No!’ Jess fibbed indignantly.

‘Me neither,’ added Becky quickly, telling the truth. ‘But it’s empty now.’

Cathy went through into the kitchen. The drawers on the unit were all open, the contents thrown across the floor. She stepped carefully over to the tin. Lifting the lid, she saw it was empty.

‘Damn and blast!’

‘It’s that bloody cow, Cheryl, isn’t it?’ Jess answered herself with the nod of her head.

‘Don’t call her names, Jess. She’s ill and desperate.’

Cathy hurried upstairs, only to find the room she’d given to Cheryl had been trashed again. She swore under her breath. This wasn’t the first time Cheryl had roughed everything up. The covers had been stripped from the bed, the mattress heaved to the floor. Drawers from the dresser were thrown on top of them. Pages from magazines had been torn and scattered like rose petals awaiting a bride on her wedding day.

‘Jeez, what a smell.’ Jess covered her mouth and nose with her hand. ‘Has someone died in there?’

‘Shut up,’ said Cathy. ‘Have you both checked your rooms?’

‘I’ve got eighty quid missing,’ Jess said quickly.

Cathy rolled her eyes. ‘Nice try, but you’re not getting that from me. Besides, where would you get eighty quid from? And what about you, Becky?’

‘No. But I’ve got nothing to take really.’

‘What about Liz’s room?’

‘It’s locked. There’s a muddy footprint on the door. Well, a bit of one anyway.’

Cathy thanked the Lord for small mercies and rushed into her own room. But nothing had been touched there either. She picked up the huge toy rabbit that sat on the bed. Rich had bought her that. To everyone else, Roger the Rabbit was a stuffed toy: to Cathy, Roger the Rabbit was where she stashed her rainy day fund. She had four hundred pounds tucked away in the pocket of his blue corduroy trousers. Luckily, no one had found that hiding place yet.

‘I hope you give her a good leathering when you next see her,’ Jess moaned behind her. ‘It’s because you let her get away with things that she thinks she can do what she likes.’

‘Sounds like someone else I know.’ 

Jess tutted.

Cathy went back downstairs. ‘Come and give me a hand,’ she shouted to them. ‘Help me clear up this mess.’

‘Oh, no.’ Jess put her arm out in front of Becky. ‘You and me aren’t setting foot in the kitchen until the plods are called. Our DNA will be over everything and then who will she blame?’

Becky stopped in mid step. She wasn’t sure why.

‘You’ve been watching too much television.’ Cathy shook her head and picked up a pile of papers from the floor.

‘Aren’t you reporting it?’ Jess sounded bewildered. 

‘No.’

‘But she’ll do it again and again.’

‘And I’ll cover for her again and again.’ Cathy looked up at Jess. ‘Like I would do for you, until I’ve had enough and can’t take any more. But that has to be my decision.’

Jess turned on her heels. ‘Mad, the lot of you. But if you think I’m going to clean up after some junkie… anyway, we’re off out, aren’t we Becks?’

Two days later as Cathy and Liz were on their way home from the community house, Liz dropped a bombshell.

‘Moving out?’ said Cathy. ‘Aren’t you happy staying with me?’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Liz. ‘I just think it would be good for Chloe to settle down somewhere now.’

‘I know, but –’

‘She needs her own room, her own space.’ Liz looked on with pleading eyes, willing Cathy to understand. ‘She can’t have that at your house.’

‘But what about Kevin?’ Cathy thought back to the last time they’d seen him. ‘I’m sorry if I was sharp with you. I just didn’t want him to get the upper hand. I don’t want you to leave because of it, though.’

‘Don’t be silly. That hasn’t anything to do with my decision.’ Liz shook her head. ‘Kevin will find me wherever I go. But I’ve spoken to Josie and she’s setting us up in a flat. She’s going to reinforce the doors and locks as part of the domestic violence program initiatives. She’s also going to set up a telephone system like yours so I can contact the police if I need to.’

Cathy was astounded. ‘You’ve certainly thought it through,’ she said.

‘Yes, but only because you gave me the confidence to do so. You’ve become my friend, I hope, as well as my confidante. And if you’re up to it, I’m going to need your friendship much more when I leave.’

Cathy felt herself blushing at Liz’s straight-forward talking. She wasn’t used to compliments: that someone liked to spend time with her. She smiled. Putting aside all selfish thoughts of how she’d enjoyed having the two of them around, she hugged Liz.

‘You don’t get rid of me that easily,’ she told her, holding back tears. ‘Has Josie got anything lined up for you?’

‘There’s a flat come empty in Preston Avenue. It’s near to Suzie Rushton, from the community house? Josie says we can keep an eye out for each other.’

‘That’s great.’ Cathy tried to sound enthusiastic but if Josie had a flat empty, she knew the system. Liz would have to be out of there within a fortnight.

‘Would you like to come with me to view it?’ Liz asked. ‘I’m going tomorrow afternoon, half past two. I’d really like your opinion.’

Cathy nodded. ‘Sure, why not?’

Later back at home, Cathy sat quietly sipping hot coffee. In just under three months she’d watched Liz start to believe that a life without Kevin was possible. That she could do this by herself – fend for herself and Chloe. Still, she might have helped her to gain confidence, but inwardly she cursed herself. It had been great having Liz around to talk to. She was nearer to her age than anyone else. She could have a laugh with her; discuss stupid, light-hearted things, like the men in their shorts when there was only football on the television. Or the latest gossip in
Heat
magazine and last night’s episode of
Frankie
.

More importantly, she’d really enjoyed having Chloe around. That little girl had brought extra rays of sunshine into the house. She was everything that Cathy would have hoped for in a daughter: bright, intelligent and caring. Chloe was always asking Liz how she was, always using her manners. Her parents might not have got along but between them they had done a great job of bringing up Chloe. If only Liz could keep Kevin from getting his claws into her, she might not be too damaged by what she’d been through so far.

Yet although she didn’t doubt for a second that Liz thought she was confident enough to live alone without Kevin’s interference, Cathy had seen it all before. She’d helped no end of women who had moved on from there to a new place, only to let their men move back in with them again. A few of them had learned the hard way, ending up with more bruises and mental scars. A few had even come back to stay before moving on again. Each time the women were adamant that their men were going to change; most of the time they never did.

Still, Cathy stood up and stretched her arms above her head. No matter what happened in the future, she would be there for her.

A few minutes later, Liz joined her. She turned to Cathy with a smile and held up a box of chocolates. ‘Got these for tonight. And I thought I could treat you to a takeaway?’

Cathy rubbed her hands together. ‘Fantastic. As long at it all comes with a bottle of red, I’m good with it.’

Liz laughed. ‘You and your bloody wine. At least I won’t turn into an alcoholic in my own place.’

‘Just promise me that you won’t let that useless shit back into your life, once my back is turned.’

Liz tried to look insulted at the suggestion but broke out into a smile eventually. ‘I am scared about going it alone but I have you, and Josie, to help me out. Even if it’s just for someone to talk things through with, I don’t feel so alone anymore.’ She held a hand to her chest. ‘And I promise you faithfully, Cathy Mason, that I will do my best not to let him get to me. So half past two tomorrow?’

CHAPTER NINETEEN

While Cathy and Liz went to meet Josie at the flat, Jess and Becky sat in the back garden. Two sets of legs and arms were warming in the afternoon sun, two sets of brightly-coloured toenails wriggling about.

‘If I moved out, I don’t think anyone would miss me,’ said Jess matter-of-factly.

‘I would,’ said Becky.

‘Yeah, right.’

‘I would!’

‘I bet Cathy would be glad to see the back of me. I’m always bringing trouble home. I try not to but it just happens.’

‘Me too, lately,’ Becky confessed.

‘Yes, but you’re not as bad as me. I’m a runner for Sam Harvey.’

‘What’s a runner?’

‘I take drugs to people. They pay me cash and I take it back. Sam gives me a cut.’

‘Of the drugs?’ Becky was shocked.

‘Sometimes.’

‘But aren’t you scared that you’ll get hooked?’

‘Sometimes,’ she repeated.

‘Do you like taking drugs?’

‘Not if I end up like Cheryl. She was really nice looking at one time.’

‘Oh?’

Jess got to her feet. ‘Wait there.’ She was back a few minutes later and handed Becky a photograph.

Becky peered at it but didn’t recognise the girl sitting next to Jess at first. Then she brought it nearer and peered at it again. The girl was tanned, dark hair styled in an updo with just enough strands hanging down for it to look sexy. She wore make-up, her full red lips pouted at the camera and she had huge dangly earrings. Her smile told of happier times. More noticeably, she looked healthy.

‘Is that Cheryl?’ Becky said in disbelief.

‘Yep.’ Jess flopped down beside her again. ‘That was only taken the summer before last. She was a real stunner until she got hooked.’

‘Aren’t you scared of looking like she does?’ Becky recalled how thin Cheryl had been the last time she’d seen her: wasted even, her skin the colour of milk, her eyes dark puddles of oil.

Jess shrugged. ‘But what else is there to do around here if we don’t get high?’

‘Plenty.’

‘Like what?’

‘Maybe we could go out and not get bladdered all the time.’

 ‘Like going to the flicks or out shopping?’

‘Or working together?’

Jess turned slightly to look directly at her. ‘Now you are talking silly! Me, working. What would
I
do?’