by Gemma Rogers
I went for a walk around the block into a nearby housing estate after Dan left. When I came to a drain, I bent to tie my shoelace and dropped the ring between the grate, listening to the plop in the water below. Limbs lighter on my walk back to the warehouse. Inside, I discovered Karla complaining about the lack of air to Dan, trying to get him to raise the shutters to let a breeze through. She’d stripped off to a spaghetti-strapped vest top, her spindly arms on show. Faint bruises swirled across her back and shoulders, aged although still yellow. Not from our recent altercation. She clearly was mixed up with a bad crowd. Was she selling drugs again? It was the only reason I could think of why she owed someone money. Stupid of her to go back down that road after what happened the last time. Had she learnt nothing from her stint inside?
I knew the system wasn’t perfect, it spewed out probationers, back into their old lives with little support and it was easy to get involved in the same shit they were locked up for. Karla was smarter than that.
When the day ended, I forced myself out the door, without waiting to see if Dan was going to ask me to hang back. I wanted more than anything for him to ask me over, to spend the evening with him and let him take me to bed. The pull was strong, and it took willpower not to catch his eye as I passed his office, but the two of us together wasn’t a good idea. Perhaps once things had calmed down and the police were no longer hanging around.
I didn’t understand why they were wasting resources on Terry as a missing person, although I supposed with anonymous tips from Karla, perhaps they suspected foul play. Barry hadn’t returned, he’d no doubt be back in tomorrow and I wasn’t looking forward to our meeting, remembering how he’d squeezed my wrist when he asked about Terry.
Later that evening, around nine, I was buried in one of the thrillers I’d bought from the charity shop when Ashley called.
‘What you up to?’ she asked.
‘Well I’m not rollerblading down the high street, I’ve opted for a quiet night in… like all my nights currently.’ I sniggered, fully aware this was tragic for a twenty-two-year-old, but my limited social circle didn’t help.
‘I’m in the pub, the Woodman, on the High Street… I’ve got a shot lined up for you already.’ Ashley giggled.
‘What are you doing there?’ I dropped my book and sat up, glancing at my frightful reflection in the mirror.
‘It’s my nan’s birthday, I completely forgot until Mum reminded me she’d booked a family dinner at Pizza Express. I caught the train down earlier. I’m staying with her tonight, but my parents have slunk off back to Chichester already and now I’m all by my lonesome. I said I wanted to catch up with some old friends… And that, my girl, is you!’
‘I bet they loved that,’ I said, knowing how Ashley’s parents detested me. They always blamed me for leading her astray.
‘I didn’t mention you. Anyway, come onnnnnn! It’s Monday night, the place is dead. Let’s get wrecked. I have no lectures tomorrow and my train isn’t until lunchtime. It can be pre-Saturday drinks.’
‘Okay, okay, I’m coming. I’ll be there in about twenty.’
49
Ashley was sat at the bar, her glossy long hair covering her back. She wasn’t lying when she said she had shots ready. They sat on the bar, an oily film swirled on top. My throat closed automatically.
‘Check you out, quick as a flash and still you look fab!’ Ashley said, giving me a hug.
I slid into the seat beside her, brushing my hair over my shoulder. I’d got ready in five minutes, a speedy wash, applied a little mascara and lip gloss and ran the straighteners through my hair. I’d even managed to cover my bruise with concealer, so it was barely noticeable. Not bad for someone who twenty minutes ago was rocking slob chic.
My heart raced from the march, combined with excitement of seeing my best friend. Without hesitation, I necked the shot, the liquid burning my throat.
‘Jesus!’ I cringed.
‘Can I get two gin and tonics, the elderflower if you have it? Thanks.’ Ashley smiled at the bartender, who, by the way he was blushing, had a bit of a crush. No doubt she’d been chatting him up while she waited for me. It was something I’d never done; it seemed a life so far removed from my own. Like I was watching through a window into Ashley’s, to see what awaited me, when I was brave enough to come out of my cave.
‘How was your nan’s birthday dinner?’ I asked.
‘Conservative, and a little strained. I told the parents I’m going to stay in Portsmouth once my degree is finished, the place where I did my work experience have offered me a job as a junior lab technician.’
‘That’s great, congratulations!’
‘Thanks. Funnily enough my parents weren’t so chuffed.’
‘They just worry about you, probably want you to move closer to them. I’m so glad you got out of here though. I can’t wait until it’s my turn.’
Ashley paid for the drinks and we moved to a table. The pub was quiet, and we were the youngest in the place.
‘How long until you’re not on probation any more?’
‘Beginning of June, another few months yet.’
‘So, tell me about Karla,’ Ashley said, twisting her silver ring around her finger.
I told Ashley as much as I could without giving away what had happened with Terry. Problems caused at work by Karla and how hostile she was.
‘That’s awful. She was always a mixed-up girl though, idolised Eddie. You said she was locked up, for drug dealing?’
I nodded. ‘I mean, I’m pissed off with her, sure, but I get it. She’s devastated, even now, four years later. She still harbours a lot of resentment about Eddie.’ It felt good to be gracious about the girl who nearly cost me my freedom.
We chatted about Dan for a while, Ashley thrilled to be finally getting the details of my limited sex life, while I squirmed, my cheeks hot. She flashed her knowing smile, black winged eyeliner drawn to perfect points. I was in awe of her and dowdy by comparison.
‘What’s the plan for Saturday, you might have to lend me some clothes,’ I said, and Ashley launched into a full-on timetable of our afternoon and night out, shifting excitedly in her seat. It was infectious and for a short time I was wrapped up in it too.
‘I’ve got so many people I want you to meet!’
I swallowed, knowing I wasn’t the social butterfly that Ashley was. It was only for one night though and I needed out of here.
We drank until closing, staggering out of the door after Ashley unsuccessfully tried to convince the bartender to let us stay for a lock-in. I called a taxi to drop her off first at her nan’s, then take me home, crawling into bed worse for wear at quarter to midnight. It felt good to be a normal twenty-two-year-old for one night, having fun with my friend. For a second, I glimpsed the life I could have and almost forgot about Terry.
The next morning when the alarm went off, I scrunched my eyes up tight and tried to ignore it, throwing my phone across the room in disgust. A stupid move as I had to get up to shut the bloody thing off.
I text Ashley as I waited for the bus, to say thanks for a great night, but she was likely still comatose if her train wasn’t until lunchtime. I, on the other hand, had to drag myself to a muggy warehouse to spend eight hours sweating over someone else’s dirty bedsheets.
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to stave off the threatening headache. Gallons of water were needed today, and I got a bacon roll and a bottle of water from the café before heading into Bright’s.
‘Where’s mine?’ Dan asked as I walked past his office, already eating as I couldn’t wait.
‘I ate it,’ I said, mid-chew.
He got up and came over, tugging a piece of stray cotton on the sleeve of his polo shirt. ‘I… um…’ he began.
‘Jess, you’re first up today. Dan, mind if I use your office,’ boomed Barry, who looked more dishevelled than I did. Irritation cloaked his voice and my mouth dried up, the roll hard to swallow. He was angry. Without waiting, Barry made to go into t
he office as Dan bristled beside me and cleared his throat.
‘Actually, Barry, I have some calls to make, so you’ll have to find somewhere else for the next hour.’
The two men stared at each other, all bravado, with their shoulders back and chests puffed out in nothing shy of a pissing contest. Barry was bigger than Dan in stature, although he conceded first, giving a little chuckle.
‘No worries, mate. Jess, come around to the warehouse, we’ll find a cosy corner.’ Barry left and my shoulders sagged.
‘Prick,’ Dan muttered.
‘Here.’ I wrapped up the bacon roll I was no longer interested in eating and handed it to Dan.
‘Don’t worry, I was kidding.’
‘No, honestly, I don’t want any more.’
‘Are you hung-over?’ Dan looked mildly amused.
I nodded and watched his eyes narrow.
‘Did you have a date?’
I snorted; the mere suggestion was ridiculous.
‘I’ll see you later.’ I headed to the lockers to put my stuff away, my stomach lurching. Barry was pissed off. He must know I told the police about him. Fuck. I wasn’t sure why I’d done that, trying to divert attention away from me, but I hadn’t considered the consequences. Karla said as soon as we met, he had us all by the short and curlies.
I rounded the corner and Barry had pulled two chairs opposite each other, in the corner of the warehouse. They were too close together and my knees brushed his as I sat. Inwardly, I shuddered. He gave me a cold stare, eyes penetrating, before looking at the form and running through the usual questions at speed. Once he’d finished, he put the folder on the floor and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. We were too far away to be overheard by anyone. I inched backwards to avoid the coffee breath leaking from his mouth.
‘So, you told the police Tel owed me money?’
I swallowed, shaking my head. My legs quivered, knees bouncing of their own accord.
Barry leaned closer still, entering my personal space. ‘Don’t fuck around, Jess. I can make life difficult for a little slut like you. Even if you are banging the boss.’
I gasped at the venom in his tone. His cheeks were mottled, blood pressure sky-high.
‘So play nice, or I promise you, you’ll be back in Bronzefield before you know it.’ He squeezed my thigh, which may have looked at a distance as a friendly gesture, but he dug his fingers into the muscle.
I squirmed in my seat, refusing to speak.
‘Perhaps I’ll find out exactly what Terry liked about you, eh, would you like that?’
My head throbbed as I shook it, Barry’s hand inching higher. Finally, he released me, picked up his folder and stalked away, chair screeching back on the floor, leaving me a shaky mess. We weren’t free at all, none of us. We might have cut off Terry’s head, but another would grow back in its place.
50
I had no time to process my meeting with Barry before Karla came into the warehouse. She was pale, a sheen upon her skin and her hand was covered in a makeshift bandage of a tea towel and masking tape. Dark circles beneath her eyes conveyed a sleepless night.
‘What happened?’
The other girls hadn’t noticed yet; while I was with Barry, they were helping Dan unload a hospital order. Knee-deep sorting through the sometimes-gruesome sheets, separating what would be burnt and what would be cleaned. It wasn’t rare to find more than a drop of blood left behind. Hanna told me stories of entrails she’d found tangled in one sheet.
I steered Karla into the store cupboard, out of sight of the others, and watched as she fell apart. I’d never seen Karla cry properly before, not like this. She was the strong one, armour-plated. I placed my hand on her shoulder and felt her stiffen at my initial touch before slowly melting until I was practically holding her up. We sank to the floor, amidst boxes of detergent.
‘They cut my finger off,’ she whispered, holding up her hand, the bandage looked like a boxing glove. She shivered, her teeth chattering. Her face looked almost grey.
‘Who did?’ I asked, eyes wide. My heart rate accelerated. I’d seen a lot of things over the four years spent in prison, bullying, assaults, but nothing of that level of violence.
‘Leon,’ she said as if I’d recognise the name.
I shook my head, it meant nothing to me. ‘Come on, you need to go home.’
‘I’ve got nowhere to go, he knows everywhere,’ she sobbed, and I sat awkwardly in the small space unsure what to do.
Pulling myself to my feet, I wiped my forearm across my brow. ‘Stay here for a sec, let me get you some water.’ I left the room and headed over to Dan, tugging him by the arm out towards the yard.
‘What’s up?’ He’d rolled his sleeves up, the dark hairs on his arms made him look tanned. I bit my lip, hit by a pang of regret those arms might not hold me again.
‘Karla’s hurt herself. Her hand is all bandaged up, she’s come in, but there’s no way she can work today. In fact, she needs to go to the hospital.’
‘Okay, give me a minute and I’ll run her over there, it’s only down the road.’
‘Great, would you mind if I went with her? Can you spare me?’ I turned back to the sheets, hearing Agnes squeal at something she’d found in the folds.
‘Sure, we’ll manage.’
I reached up and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, watching it instantly flush red.
He laughed, shaking his head. ‘You know how to get around me.’
I smiled, perhaps it wasn’t over after all?
I took a glass of water to Karla, who looked positively clammy now. Was it shock or did she have an infection? I asked to take a look, but she refused to unwrap the bandage. I had so many questions: when did it happen? How much blood had she lost?
‘Dan’s going to take you to hospital, I’m going to come with you. Get that properly looked at,’ I said, giving her the water to drink.
Fear shot through her eyes and her head whipped up to look at me.
‘It’s okay, you don’t have to tell them anything, you can say you had an accident, chopping tomatoes or something.’ Quite why I was helping her after her campaign against me I had no idea, all I knew was she was going to get herself killed if I didn’t do something. I couldn’t have that on my conscience.
Thirty minutes later, we were waiting in Accident and Emergency at Croydon University Hospital. Dan had dropped us off outside, telling me to ring him when we wanted picking up.
‘This used to be called Mayday, I remember my mum telling me,’ Karla said, holding her arm close to her chest as though she’d broken it.
‘Why aren’t you living with your mum and dad?’
‘It’s not safe for them.’ Karla glanced at her hand and back to me. I nodded. So that was the reason Karla had been sofa-surfing. No fixed abode, she kept moving. Who was after her?
‘Do you want to tell me what happened?’ I asked softly.
Karla glanced around; the waiting room was packed. Almost every seat was taken, and the low hum of chatter was constant. ‘Not here. Later.’
‘Karla Grant,’ called the triage nurse and Karla stood, waiting for me to join her. I hadn’t intended to, I was squeamish at the best of times, but she looked like she needed the support. Despite what she’d done, I couldn’t walk away.
She hadn’t been lying, her pinkie finger had been hacked off below the knuckle, the end open and sore. The nurse asked how had it happened, what had it been cut with? Karla told her a chopping knife, for tomatoes, but she didn’t look convinced. Did she by any chance still have the end of her finger? My throat closed and I had to look away as the nurse examined it.
‘I just want to get the doctor to check this over, I’m not sure whether we’ll be able to stitch it as it is. You might need a skin graft.’ She put a temporary covering over the finger, and we were sent back out to the waiting room.
‘Are you okay, do you want some sugar or something?’
Karla nodded; she looked a little green
around the gills.
‘Be right back,’ I said as I went to wrestle with the vending machine at the other end of the room. I had enough change for a Boost and a can of Coke which we shared, only because Karla couldn’t eat it all. She pepped up around ten minutes later once the sugar hit her system.
We waited for almost an hour before the doctor called us. By which time it was gone lunch and my stomach grumbled. My hangover was long forgotten, but I still had the munchies. The nurse stitched and bandaged the finger properly, although the doctor advised Karla might require a skin graft. By the time we left, with antibiotics and an appointment booked at another NHS site with a hand specialist, it was mid-afternoon.
Karla fumbled with her lighter until I stepped in, both of us desperate for a cigarette. I hated hospitals, the smell seemed to get on your clothes and in your hair. I always had to wash it off. Karla looked exhausted as we trudged off the hospital grounds.
‘Shall we get a cab back to mine?’ I asked, not sure if Karla would agree but I knew she was scared. She already said she didn’t have anywhere else.
‘No, I need to get my bag from Bright’s, my duffel bag is in a locker.’ Was she carrying around her worldly goods in a duffel bag?
‘Sure, I’ll ring Dan.’
Dan picked us up around ten minutes later, jumping out the car to help Karla into the front seat. He seemed concerned, making sure she was comfortable, and he’d bought lunch for us in case we hadn’t eaten. I found the visceral pull in my gut for him during the drive hard to ignore.
When we got back to Bright’s, the girls rallied round, keen to hear Karla’s story of what had happened. She mentioned an accident where the knife slipped when cutting a tomato, and I was in awe at how easy the lie spilled off her tongue. I shouldn’t have been surprised, she’d been spinning lies since we’d met. Could I believe anything she said now?
While the girls were occupied, I found Dan in his office, gathering up the sandwiches he’d bought from the café to bring out to us. I stood in the doorway, blocking his exit.
