Somewhere to Hide (The Estate, Book 1) (4 page)

Liz moved to the left, away from the glare of the early spring sun streaming through the large window at the far end of the room. Cathy had the same standard fitted kitchen that Liz had left behind in Douglas Close but that was its only similarity. The white wooden units looked clinical there but here, beside the huge notice board covered in photos of young teenage girls, and the sunset yellow walls, they looked homely.  

She sat down at the pine table, wondering how many women had done the same with Cathy. How many had told her their secrets. How many lives she’d helped to mould, hoping to send women off in another direction entirely than where they’d thought they were heading. Josie Mellor had told her that Cathy took in female teenagers but she would also take on anyone if she thought she could help. Liz doubted she’d be able to help her though. The average age of the girls in the photos was that, girls. She was twenty-eight.

Cathy joined her at the table. She was dressed in dark bootleg jeans, a white long-sleeved T-shirt and a multi-coloured scarf knotted at the nape of her neck. She wore make-up; her hair looked as if it had been straightened that morning. Liz’s shoulders drooped. How did she find the energy? She barely had the strength to get Chloe ready and off to school.

‘How long have you lived on the estate?’ Cathy asked her. ‘I can’t say I’ve noticed you around.’

‘I was in Douglas Close for eight years. We kept ourselves to ourselves.’

‘And your fella? Married, were you?’

Liz nodded. Cathy sensed an invisible wall being erected in seconds.

‘I’ve been around here since I was sixteen.’ She sat down opposite Liz. ‘The estate’s got worse since then but I wouldn’t live anywhere else. It was where I met Rich – my late husband. When he died, I thought of moving away but I just couldn’t. I had a lot of good people rallying around me. No matter what people say about the Mitchell Estate, there are some good ones here. It’s just the troublemakers that make it worse for everyone else.’

‘It’s a dump,’ Liz retorted. ‘If I could leave, I would.’

‘Really? Most people who say that have no intention of doing anything about it. Better the devil, and all that.’

‘But there’s not much to do around here, is there? I mean, is it any wonder the kids are bored? The clubs have closed down; most of the shops and the pubs are boarded up. I’m surprised everyone hasn’t moved away. There must be more to life than this wretched routine all the time.’

Cathy nodded. ‘There’s plenty going on at the community house. I’m a volunteer there. Josie Mellor helps to run it. We do all kinds of sessions, like job interview techniques, basic computer skills, that type of thing. Do you work?’

‘No. My days were filled with cleaning the house,’ Liz replied bitterly. ‘Everything had to be shipshape and perfect. Everything had to be just so.’

Cathy was tempted to add in the words
or else
when Liz stopped. That awkward silence filled the room again.

‘How long were you married, Cathy?’

‘Sixteen years. Rich died three years ago, when I was thirty-six. He fell down a flight of steps on his way back home from the pub one night and suffered fatal head injuries. Can you believe that? It was so bloody senseless. What about you?’

‘We married in 2004. I remember it as a good and a bad year. It was the year I gave birth to Chloe too.’

‘I met Rich when I was seventeen. He was my real first boyfriend.’ Cathy pointed to a photo in the middle of the notice board. ‘That was taken a few years ago, when he was best man at a wedding.’

 Liz looked across to see a picture of two people who seemed very much in love. Rich was marginally taller than Cathy and stood proud in a dark three-piece suit. Hazel eyes smiled back at Liz as he posed, Cathy’s arm linked through his as they stood in front of the church. Cathy looked striking in a navy blue and cream shift dress and a wide-brimmed hat.

‘You look so happy together,’ said Liz.

‘Oh, we weren’t always like that,’ Cathy reflected with a grin. ‘You need to ask Josie about the goings-on at Rich and Cathy Mason’s house. Time and time again I’d tell Rich to sling his hook when he’d come home from the pub absolutely blind drunk. He always said he was going out for the last hour, in the days when last orders meant eleven pm on the dot – and he’d always end up late, at some lock-up or another after hours.

‘I do miss him still,’ Cathy added after a pause. ‘It was really hard work at times but the more we were together, I suppose, the more it seemed to click.’

‘Did the rest of your family like him?’

‘I don’t have any family. My father left me and my mother when I was six and my mother took to drink. She died when I was sixteen and I was put into a hostel for homeless teens.’

‘Oh… I…’ Liz sensed she’d put her foot in it again. She quickly changed the subject. ‘Josie mentioned that you don’t have any children, is that right?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’ Cathy sighed, realising that it was time to stop the questions coming. She always tried to open up to new women so that they felt they could share their stories too. But some things she didn’t want to talk about, didn’t want to be reminded of either.

‘So now that you’ve learned all there is to know about me,’ she said, ‘when you’re ready to talk, I’m always here to listen. I’ve seen and heard everything in this house but what is said inside these four walls stays inside these four walls. You have my word. So if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, someone to rant at or a bit of friendly advice, don’t be afraid to ask. I’m only here to listen, not to pass judgement. There are things about my life that aren’t so rosy either. I’m sure –’

‘I can’t believe it’s only quarter past seven,’ Jess said, barging into the room. She marched across the floor, her dressing gown flying wildly behind her, and pointed at Liz. ‘That brat of yours has been snuffling for the past few minutes. She’s kept me up half the night as well. Can’t you gag her or something?’

‘Hey!’ Cathy snapped. ‘We’ll have less of that talk in here. Chloe is entitled to make as much noise as she wants to. Besides, you’re seventeen and you make far more noise than young Chloe. You don’t hear me complaining, do you?’

 ‘I’d better go to her,’ said Liz, quickly finishing her drink.

‘Yes, do.’ Jess made a shooing gesture. ‘Run along and tend to the young miss before I knock her bleeding head off.’

Cathy watched Jess give Liz an evil glare as she scuttled away. 

‘You’d better watch your step, young lady,’ she told her once Liz had gone. ‘You know I won’t tolerate rudeness. And if your sleep is so important, where were you until midnight last night?’

‘Out.’

‘Out where?’

Jess folded her arms and rested against the work top. ‘For God’s sake. It’s like being back at school.’

‘You know you should be in by eleven.’

‘Rules, schmools.’

‘They protect you as well as ensuring that you show consideration to others.’

Jess sighed. ‘I’m sick of having to do this every time someone new arrives.’

‘Then you know what to do about it, don’t you?’ Cathy challenged.

Later that morning, Liz walked with Chloe along Adam Street heading for the primary school. The weather was overcast and a tiny bit drizzly. She pulled her coat into her chest as it billowed in the wind. Her eyes flitted over the crowd of parents gathered at the school gates, praying that she would spot Kevin if he was there so she could be ready to react. Even though she knew he was on the early shift at work and would most likely be waiting for them in the afternoon, her heart still pounded in her chest. She held on tightly to Chloe’s hand.

‘Will you be okay on your own today, Mum?’ Chloe asked when they arrived at the entrance.

Liz ran a hand over her head. Chloe had a similar shade of mousey hair to her own, the same button nose and chubby cheeks. Unfortunately, Chloe had her dad’s deep-set eyes. A constant reminder. They were looking up at her now.

‘Of course I will, sweetheart.’ She smiled. ‘And I’ll be here to pick you up as usual. There’s nothing to worry about.’

‘I could look after you. I’ll make you some dinner and lots of cups of tea.’

Liz squatted down to her daughter’s level. ‘Please don’t worry, Chloe,’ she said, giving her a comforting hug. ‘I’ll be fine and back before you know it.’

Liz waved until Chloe was out of sight. Even then she didn’t want to move. She sighed. They would get through this mess, she tried to reassure herself. It was only a matter of time.

‘That’s a huge sigh,’ said a voice by her side.

Liz turned to see Sue Rothbourne standing next to her. She was in her mid-thirties with short, bleached hair, far too much make-up and wearing the Shop&Save uniform of garish green trousers and tunic with matching ballet pumps. Liz saw her often because her daughter, Abby, was one of Chloe’s friends.

She tried to muster a smile for her. ‘Hi, Sue.’

‘Oh, dear. Rough weekend?’

‘You could say that.’

‘My two have been playing up all morning. I couldn’t separate the little buggers, fighting over the free gift in the cereal, they were. I tell you, a piece of red plastic that’s supposed to be a dog. I don’t –’

Out of the blue, an arm encircled Liz’s waist, warm breath next to her ear. She froze as Kevin kissed her on the cheek.

‘Hello, darling. Sorry I missed you this morning.’

Aware that Sue was waiting to be introduced, Liz knew that she had to look at Kevin. But not directly in the eye.

‘You know my husband, Kevin?’ she asked, trying to keep the tremble from her voice.

‘I’m very pleased to meet you.’ His smile was cheesy. ‘It’s Sue, isn’t it?’

Sue ran a hand through her hair and beamed. ‘That’s right,’ she nodded, a little too enthusiastically. ‘I’m Abby’s mum.’

‘Ah.’ Kevin nodded in recognition. ‘She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she, Liz?’

Liz managed to nod back but she needn’t have bothered. She watched as Sue’s face and neck flushed under Kevin’s constant gaze. Couldn’t she see that he’d read the name from her work badge? That he was using his charm to make her feel special?

After a few seconds of small talk, Liz was left alone with him. Most of the other parents had been and gone: there was only the odd one or two who were still rushing in late.

Kevin grabbed her wrist tightly and swung her round to face him.

‘So, my lovely,’ he hissed. ‘Where the fuck did you disappear to?’

CHAPTER FOUR

Becky crashed down on the length of her bed, her eyes flicking around the tiny room. It was barely big enough to hold the single bed, wardrobe and chest of drawers. But then again, what had she to put in the room? What had she to hang up in the wardrobe? She glanced down at the pink T-shirt and black jeans that she was wearing. Cathy had given her two bags of clothes when she’d shown her to her room: they’d been left behind by some other girl.

Becky couldn’t believe she was still free. She couldn’t understand why there was no one coming after her: Rebecca Louise Ward wanted for the murder of James Michael Ward. Even though it was nearly two weeks since she’d ran away, she’d watched
Central News
last night but there hadn’t been anything so far about a murder. She’d scanned the local newspaper but they weren’t running the story. There wasn’t even anything in the small print. Perhaps she was too far away now. Her photograph must have been circulated everywhere but at least she’d had the sense to dump the knife. Even so, she didn’t dare risk going out yet in case the police were still after her.

To alleviate her frustration, she pummelled the mattress over and over.

‘What are you doing that for?’ A voice came through the half open door. ‘If you really want to vent your anger, you need to kick something and damage it.’

Becky looked up to see Jess standing on the threshold.

‘How old are you?’ she continued.

‘Sixteen.’

‘What’re you running away from?’

‘I’ve murdered someone.’

Jess snorted. ‘Don’t make me laugh. If the force of that punch is anything to go by you haven’t got murder in you.’

Becky played with a loose strand of cotton on the hem of the curtains. ‘That’s what you think.’

Intrigued by the comment, Jess ventured in another step. ‘Okay, then. Tell me who you’re supposed to have killed.’

‘My uncle.’

‘What did you do to him?’

‘I stabbed him.’

‘NO WAY!’

‘Yes way.’

‘You’re lying!’

‘Want to try me and find out?’

Becky cursed herself as soon as the words were out. Stupid, stupid cow. The last thing she needed was to bring attention her way. What if Jess went to the police and told them where she was hiding? She’d end up in prison, or worse, on the run again.

‘I’ll give you something,’ she said quickly, ‘if you’ll keep your mouth shut.’

‘Like you’ve got anything that I need!’ Jess sat down beside her on the bed. ‘You came with nothing, remember?’

Becky disappeared under the bed and pulled out a Nintendo game consol. ‘Here. It’s worth fifty quid at least.’