by Gemma Rogers
I woke early to Dan planting butterfly kisses on my shoulder. Pressed up against me, I could tell he was more than awake.
‘Morning,’ he said as I stretched my limbs.
‘Morning,’ I replied, reaching around to stroke him.
Half an hour later, I was pulling my clothes on and tying my hair into a ponytail. Face now devoid of make-up, I looked pale and tired. It was barely seven o’clock and I needed caffeine.
‘I’ll run you home on the way, is that okay? I’ve got a meeting at nine with a client, something Terry had booked before he disappeared, taking on more work.’
‘Sure, no problem,’ I replied, trying not to wince as Terry was mentioned.
The morning was a bit of a rush, which Dan playfully berated me for, as according to him, it was my fault I’d tempted him, and we’d got out of bed late. He drove quickly, the traffic heavy but moving.
‘I’ll see you in a bit,’ he said when we reached my house, leaning across the passenger seat to give me a kiss before I jumped out. I waved as he drove away.
I didn’t notice when I put my key in the door, the side was bowed. It wasn’t until I had to force the door to get it to move across the carpet, pushing aside a sea of my stuff strewn on the floor, I realised I’d been burgled.
35
My mouth gaped and I gingerly peeked inside to see the bedsit had been turned over. Practically everything I owned had been thrown onto the floor – clothes, books, food from the cupboards. I glanced at the mattress, skewed across the frame of the sofa bed where it had been pushed aside.
The money! Clambering over my clothes, I reached the thin mattress and lifted it. The money had gone, along with the photos of Terry. That’s what this was about, the money, and the only one who knew I had it was Karla.
I slumped onto the edge of the bed, lowering my head and thrusting my fingers into hair at my scalp, pulling in frustration. Why? I didn’t understand. I said I’d give her the money; she didn’t have to break into my fucking home!
‘Jesus Christ.’ Stuart stood at the door, his voice making me jump. A gust of air rushed in as he pushed it open for further inspection. He was dressed in a shirt and tie, no doubt heading into the office. I should be on my way to work too.
‘Someone broke in.’ I waved my hand around at the devastation.
‘What have they taken?’ He cast his eye around the room, deep lines etched on his forehead.
‘I don’t know yet, not much I don’t think.’ I wasn’t going to admit I had nearly two grand robbed from a dead man hidden under my mattress.
‘I’ll call the police.’ He pulled his phone from his pocket, his fingers moving across the screen.
‘No,’ I blurted, and Stuart paused, raising an eyebrow.
‘The door is damaged, I’ll need a crime number to go through the insurance,’ he said stiffly.
‘I’ll pay for the door; it just needs knocking back out. I don’t think they’ve taken anything else.’
Stuart narrowed his eyes and I realised I’d been too eager to dismiss the police’s involvement. He was now suspicious. ‘What have you got yourself into, Jess? Because I said to your sister you can only stay here if you keep yourself out of trouble. I don’t want you bringing any shit to my door.’
‘I haven’t, I promise,’ I pleaded, looking Stuart straight in the eyes, imploring him to let it go.
The silence stretched out until it was his turn to sigh; shoulders sagging, I watched him relent.
‘Okay, this one time, all right! I’ve got to go to work. I’ll pop back and take a look at the door this afternoon. Try and secure it as best you can in the meantime.’
I nodded, awash with relief. My eyes prickled with threatening tears. How had I gone from being on such a high to such a low in a matter of hours? I was going to fucking kill Karla. If anything like this happened again, Stuart would throw me out, then where would I be?
Snatching up my phone, I sent her a text. My fingers pounding the screen.
WHAT THE FUCK!
I called Dan and left a message on his voicemail. Obviously, I was going to be late to work, it was already eight thirty. I pushed the door shut. It closed, but the catch wouldn’t stay, so I found something to wedge underneath to stop it from opening. I waded through the remnants of my life that looked like they’d been fired out of a cannon into the tiny space. All the time, my phone remained infuriatingly silent.
None of the new clothes, still with their tags on, had been taken and I hung them back up on the upturned rail. The microwave, kettle, even my half-full bottle of vodka remained untouched. I had one hundred cigarettes sitting on the side from my last supermarket visit. Surely, they would have been taken to sell on if it was a proper burglary. I knew it was Karla. When I didn’t answer the phone last night, she must have paid me a visit. A vein pulsed in my forehead, throbbing intently. All Karla caused was chaos.
It took around half an hour to put the room back together. I’d need to borrow Stuart’s hoover again as the carpet was a mess, but all my things were returned to where they’d been before.
Fixing the door as best I could, wedging it closed, I left for work, texting Stuart as I walked so he would know how to get in later. Before I could put my phone back in my pocket, Helen rang.
‘Stuart said you’ve been burgled!’ she shrieked down the phone.
‘Yes,’ I replied flatly.
‘Why has someone burgled you? Stuart’s worried about his house.’
‘Nothing of Stuart’s was taken, Helen, it’s fine, I’m going to pay for the door.’ I was trying to remain calm, but the urge to tell Helen to fuck off was growing.
‘He says you didn’t want him to call the police. You better not be in trouble, Jess, because I tell you, I won’t let you back into our lives again.’
I bit the inside of my cheek, sucking air through my nostrils. Who the hell did she think she was? ‘Keep your beak out, all right, it’s between me and Stuart. He’s my landlord, not you. I’m not doing anything.’
‘He’s really strait-laced, Jess, does everything by the book, so no dodgy dealings, okay!’
‘I’ve just told you I haven’t done anything.’ I enunciated each word, starting to lose my temper.
‘People don’t just get burgled for no reason,’ she snapped.
‘Of course they do, all the time!’ I hung up before I let her push any more of my buttons.
I marched to Bright’s, ready to give Karla hell. I was no fighter, but inside I raged, convinced when I saw her, I’d scratch her eyes out. However, when I got there, flying straight into the warehouse without clocking in or stashing my things, she was nowhere to be seen. I scanned the stations; Hanna, Laura, Agnes, Natalia and other girls I knew, although not well, were there, but no sign of Karla.
‘Where’s Karla?’ I asked Agnes.
‘No idea.’ She shrugged and I stormed back to Dan’s office, pushing open the door, but Barry sat where Dan should be.
‘Well hello there, just the person I wanted to see.’ He smirked, sitting upright.
‘Where’s Dan?’ I asked, ignoring him.
Barry frowned and shook his head. He must still be at his client meeting.
‘Go and put your stuff away and I’ll see you back here in a minute.’ Barry pulled my file out of his satchel.
I rolled my eyes and willed my blood pressure to drop. Projecting my temper onto Barry would only serve to put me on his shit list and he’d already made it clear that wasn’t a good idea.
‘Sure,’ I replied and forced a smile, heading out to clock myself in and drop off my things in a locker. I checked the one Karla always used, but it was empty. She’d not replied to my text message either; it looked like she hadn’t even read it. ‘Sorry, bit of a nightmare morning,’ I said on entering Dan’s office and flopping into the chair.
‘Everything okay?’ Barry slipped into the mask of caring probation officer all too easily and I saw how I’d been taken in at first.
‘No, just fa
mily stuff,’ I lied, not wanting to tell him about the burglary. I didn’t want him to question why I’d been targeted.
We went through the usual questions, my answers slight variations from last time, elaborating here and there until I could see Barry was satisfied. I wanted to fly under the radar as much as possible.
‘Brilliant, Jess, you’ve settled in well. Now it’s head down, nose clean and hope the next five months whizz by.’
We locked eyes for a moment, and I waited to be excused, but he just stared at me. Eventually he closed my file and laid his palms flat on top of it, a tight smile stretched across his face, eyes twinkling.
‘So, let’s talk about Terry.’
36
I ran my tongue across the front of my teeth. Barry’s cold stare making my skin crawl.
‘What about Terry?’ I said.
‘Heard anything else?’
The back of my neck prickled with sweat; he didn’t know anything.
‘Funny you should ask. Dan told me yesterday the police have had a sighting in Portsmouth.’
Barry leaned back in the chair, clasping his hands behind his head. ‘Portsmouth?’ he sneered and I nodded. His eyes darted around the room; I could see him trying to recall Terry mentioning the area.
‘Can I go now?’ I asked, there was only an hour left before lunch and I wanted to see if Karla had shown up.
‘Sure. Stay out of trouble, Jess, and I’ll see you next week.’ He grinned, the mask firmly back in place. I matched his fake smile with one of my own before leaving.
Frustrated I couldn’t find Karla, and Dan wasn’t back either, I joined one of the girls I barely knew, Natalia, who was working on the dryers. She didn’t talk much and that was fine with me. My head felt as though it was going to explode.
Dan bowled in at lunchtime, carrying a sub roll he’d bought from the café, winking as he passed. I wanted to talk to him, but the machine had just finished, and Natalia was already pulling out towels and handing them over to fold.
I went for lunch once we were done, buying myself a roll and loitering in the yard with a cigarette. Ashley sent me a text, dying to hear all the juicy details from last night and I sent her a quick message back saying I’d ring when I could. Next, I tried Karla. Her phone went straight through to voicemail and since she’d made her account private and not yet accepted my friend request, I couldn’t see if she’d posted on Facebook. I sent another text with only the words ‘Ring me’.
I unwrapped my ham roll and tore a bite out of it. I leant against the side of the building, scrolling through Facebook when I saw Ashley had commented on Eddie Watt’s wall. A remembrance post had been put up yesterday. The anniversary of the accident was coming up, the date seared into my mind forever. The date when everything changed. It wasn’t until March but looked as though a family member was organising a balloon release to mark the occasion.
I took another bite, chewing slowly as something caught my eye, a flicker of recognition. I moved the screen upwards trying to find it again. There, around ten comments down from Ashley’s. Karla Grant had commented on the remembrance post last night at almost midnight.
Love you always
I coughed, choking on a mouthful of doughy bread, eyes streaming as I stared at the screen. Trying to process what it meant. Karla knew Eddie. Knew him well enough to post on Facebook how much she loved him!
A cold sweat ran the length of my spine and I sank against the wall, feeling my legs give out. How did she know Eddie? Could they have been a couple before he got together with Ashley? Did we know her back then? I didn’t think so, I had no memory of ever seeing her before my first day at Bright’s. Maybe she’d known us, although Ash didn’t remember her. Perhaps Karla wasn’t her real name?
It dawned on me if she knew Eddie, if she was local to the St Helier estate or had been, she must know I killed him.
‘Jess.’ Dan’s voice interrupted my thoughts and I looked up to see him frowning at me where I’d sunk to the gravel. He wrapped his hand around my upper arm and pulled me to my feet. His fingers digging into the flesh.
‘You’re hurting me,’ I cried, trying to yank my arm away.
Dan’s face was contorted, and he led me away from the warehouse doors further out into the yard. ‘What the fuck is this?’ he spat, shoving a piece of paper into my chest.
My feet scuffed the gravel as he carried me along. I pushed him off as we came to a halt at the edge of the plot, out of earshot of anyone. I peeled the paper away from my chest, glowering at Dan. I’d never seen him angry, but his eyes were ablaze. Holding the paper out, I blinked back tears as I tried to focus, registering where I’d seen it before.
‘Where did you get this?’ I spoke through gritted teeth. In my hand was the first image of me and Terry that had been put through my door. The one taken by the secret camera, of me kneeling in front of Terry on the night he died. He was still alive in this one. Before he pushed his cock in my mouth, before I bit down. Air rushed out of my lungs like I’d been winded. Even with my head bowed in the picture, Dan had worked out it was me.
‘Well?’ he said as I looked at him through watery eyes.
‘H-have you seen the video?’ I stammered.
‘There’s a fucking video?’ He raised his voice, incredulous and my tears erupted.
‘It’s not what you think.’
‘What do I think? That you have a thing for screwing the boss?’
I winced as he snatched the paper out of my hand and stalked away.
I left the yard, tears streaming down my cheeks, until I found a grass verge on a residential street and sat on the kerb. Dan thought I’d tricked him; I wasn’t who I said I was. From the photo, he assumed I was sleeping with Terry, that’s what was depicted, an act of consent.
I lit a cigarette and tried Karla again, no reply. I had to tell Dan, screw the others, I had to come clean. I smoked quickly, forming the words in my head, and hurried back to Bright’s before I lost my nerve.
Laura stared at my stained puffy face as I zipped through the warehouse, whispering behind me, but I didn’t care. Dan was in the office with the door shut, but I didn’t knock, just barged straight in. He looked up in surprise, eyes wide, his anger subsided, whereas I was seething.
‘Who sent you the photo?’ I demanded.
‘I don’t know, it was just here, on my desk.’
I clenched my jaw.
‘Look at the picture again,’ I instructed, stabbing the desk with my finger.
‘What?’
‘Tell me what you see, Dan. Hang on, wait, let me tell you what I see. I see a girl on her knees in an office with the blinds closed, in front of her boss. The same boss that has a hidden camera in the corner to take photos or videos of these moments. What you don’t see in this picture is my face, the panic in my eyes, how I felt sick when your brother unzipped his fly and forced himself on me.’
Dan’s mouth hung open. He looked wounded, as though my words had been bullets, firing into him. Coming to his senses, he looked up in the corner above the shelf.
I sighed. ‘It’s not there. It’s been moved. I don’t know by who or where it is.’
‘What are you saying, Jess? Are you telling me Terry assaulted you?’
I snorted. ‘Not just me, all of us.’
Dan stared, lips moving, but nothing came out. He blinked and gave his head a slight shake, as though trying to dislodge the words I’d placed there.
‘No, no.’ Dan’s voice was quiet, eyes imploring. I knew he didn’t want it to be true. Who would?
‘Your brother, Terry, was a low-life, a predator, who used us for his own filthy self-gratification,’ I said flatly, before walking out of the office.
37
I collected my things and left without bothering to clock out. I was done for the day but didn’t want to go home. The bedsit had been tidied; the horror of the morning now gone, but I wasn’t sure I’d feel safe there. Also, Stuart might be fixing the door and I couldn’t face mor
e questions. The closest thing I had to a friend, bar Ashley, had stolen from me and the man I’d given myself to, had decided I was a slut. It was the latter that hurt the most, it ate me up inside. I’d been a target of sexual gratification. For him to assume I’d welcomed it in any way made me sick.
I balled my hands into fists as I stomped along, the fire in my belly still smouldering. I had no real idea where I was going until a 151 bus came past and I chased it to the next stop. I wanted comfort and there was only one place I’d get it.
The bus took me almost to the door and I jumped off, jogging up the path.
‘Mum,’ I called out as I unlocked the door, not wanting to surprise her.
‘In here,’ she called back from the sitting room.
Helen would be at work so I would have Mum all to myself.
She sat in the chair, her slippers on, but she was dressed and even wore a little make-up. Shirley Valentine was on the television and she had a tray of tea and biscuits on the table beside her. My chin wobbled as soon as I saw her.
‘What’s happened, poppet?’ she said, taking one look at my puffy red-rimmed eyes and throwing her right arm open, the left she barely raised off her thigh. I swallowed hard, she’d called me poppet since I was a child. Hearing her say it sent me over the edge.
I drew into her, my knees to the carpet, head in her lap as I sobbed. All the fear, anger and frustration from the past few weeks leaking out. I had no control and Mum let me cry, stroking my hair and telling me it was going to be all right.
Eventually I sat back on my heels.
‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ she implored, the creases damp surrounding her eyes.
