by Lisa Stone
Kelsey’s eyes filled. She would never have wished this life on her daughter. Never in a million years. Perhaps the child would be better off without her – adopted like her older kids, or living with her sister, Sharon. Sharon had offered enough times, but if Leila went, what would she have left to live for? Nothing. There’d be no reason to carry on. The rest of her life was shit. Leila was the only reason she got out of bed. Perhaps she should really try to turn over a new leaf and get clean like she’d told the social services and her sister.
Once in her flat, Kelsey took the half-drunk bottle of vodka from the kitchen and settled on the sofa with the coke. If it was good stuff like Jason had said then one gram should last all evening and she could save the other for tomorrow. She always bought extra when she had the money. She was sensible like that.
Taking a swig of vodka, she set to work on the coke, rubbing some on her gums and then snorting it for immediate effect. A few seconds later, her mind and body relaxed as the alcohol and coke took effect. Any thoughts of hunger went, as did those of missing Leila. Another few snorts of coke and swigs of vodka and Kelsey had forgotten most things from the real world and was floating high on a cloud of euphoria, confidence and opportunity, where anything and everything seemed possible.
THREE
Strange, unsettling dreams, noises, sensations and raised voices floated into Kelsey’s thoughts. She heard distant footsteps in the corridor outside and doors opening and closing. She dreamt she heard Leila laughing, possibly at her, which made her sad, and a man’s voice that seemed familiar, though she couldn’t place it. Her eyes shot open and suddenly she was awake. She was lying on her side on the threadbare sofa, her mouth bone dry and craving something sweet.
Shit. She’d overdone it again. ‘Leila!’ she shouted. ‘Get me a drink of water, will ya?’
There was no reply. The flat was quiet and the only light seemed to be coming from the lamp she’d left on in the living room. There was no bulb in the main light, as it had blown ages ago and she’d never got around to replacing it.
God, she felt rough. She really shouldn’t have drunk all that vodka with the coke. The bottle was empty and the coke had been strong stuff as Jason had said. She’d only used a gram, and with the vodka her life had become OK for a few hours, but now she felt awful.
What time was it? She groped for her phone and found it on the floor. 3.20. How time passed when you were having fun, she thought bitterly. Leila would be asleep, having let herself in with her key and put herself to bed. She’d have to get her own bloody drink of water – in a minute, though, when the room had stopped swaying and she could stand without falling over.
Scrolling down her phone, she saw the last text message she’d read was sent at 10.05 p.m., so she’d been out for over five hours. Well-deserved respite after the shitty day she’d had yesterday, she thought: two clients not showing, one not paying and then that pig taking advantage of her. Well, she’d shown him! He’d paid her for overtime. She smiled to herself, then gingerly turned onto her back and read the other messages. One was from a regular client, Alan, who visited her during his lunchtime while Leila was at school, asking if she was free today. He always paid well, never wanted extras, gave her a tip and left on time, so today was already promising to be better.
Time to get up, she thought. Dropping her phone on the sofa, Kelsey lowered her feet and then hauled herself upright and slowly stood. Her head spun and it took a moment for her to get her balance. No, she really shouldn’t have had that vodka as well as the coke. She walked unsteadily into the kitchen, which was off the living room. It was still a mess! The kid hadn’t touched it. Typical! She must have come in late and gone straight to bed.
Kelsey leant against the sink and poured herself a glass of water, drank it straight down and then peeled off a couple of biscuits from the open packet on the drainer and ate those. Her stomach cramped from lack of food. Now the vodka and coke were wearing off she felt hungry and sick. Perhaps the kid had left something for her to eat. She did sometimes if she’d been to the fish-and-chip shop or the Burgers-For-All café on the main road. She bought extra for her mother and left it in the oven for her. Leila was good like that, taking care of her. But when Kelsey opened the oven door she saw it was empty and stone cold. With a stab of guilt, Kelsey wondered if Leila hadn’t had enough money to buy food. Hopefully she’d had the sense not to go to Goodman’s again for something to eat.
Kelsey drank a second glass of water and then badly needed a piss. By the light of the lamp she went slowly down the hall. Leila’s bedroom door was open, which was odd. She always closed it when she came in. She liked her privacy, and if there was a stranger in the house she bolted the door too. Kelsey had fitted the bolt herself to keep her daughter safe when she had clients in.
She stepped into Leila’s bedroom and in the half-light couldn’t see a lump in the bed. She flicked on the main light. The bed covers were thrown back and the bed was empty. Where the hell was she? ‘Leila!’ she cried, an edge of panic in her voice. Perhaps she was asleep in Kelsey’s bed, although she’d never done that before.
Kelsey took the couple of steps down the hall to her own bedroom and switched on the light. Her bed was empty too, and just as she’d left it after getting the pig out: crumpled and with the bottom sheet spotted with her blood. But where was Leila? Ridiculously, Kelsey crossed to the wardrobe to see if Leila was in there. Sometimes, when it was just the two of them, she hid in there as a game and then jumped out to scare her mother, but not at 3.30 a.m. She opened the wardrobe door to find it empty apart from Kelsey’s miserable selection of clothes.
‘Leila!’ she called again. ‘Where the hell are you?’ The only room she hadn’t looked in was the bathroom and she needed a piss more than ever now.
Opening the bathroom door, she pulled on the light cord. It was obvious straight away Leila wasn’t in there, and from the look of it she hadn’t used the bathroom the previous evening. There was no towel or face flannel dumped in the bath and her toothbrush was dry. What the hell was the kid playing at?
Kelsey took a piss, the warm stream of urine giving her some relief. Once she’d finished, she checked the kid’s bedroom again and then the living room, as if by magic Leila might suddenly have reappeared. There was nowhere else in the flat she could be. Had she been back at all yesterday after she’d left for school in the morning? Kelsey wondered. She couldn’t remember but didn’t think so. There was no sign of food having been eaten and her school bag wasn’t here. So where the hell was she?
Kelsey picked up her phone and checked the texts again. There were no new messages and anyway Leila didn’t have a phone of her own. According to the school, kids her age weren’t old enough to have phones. Kelsey had gone along with it because she needed to do what the school said, as they sent a report to the social services every term – not just about Leila, but about Kelsey’s parenting skills: things like if Leila was on time and looked clean, with her hair brushed. Well, this just showed how much they knew! Her daughter was missing and she had no way of contacting her! She should have followed her gut instinct and given Leila a phone. She could have kept it in her bag for emergency use only, although deep down Kelsey knew the temptation to show her friends or text in class would have been too great.
As the last of the numbing effect of the coke and vodka completely disappeared it was replaced by the depressing realization that her daughter hadn’t come home, and instead of getting into bed Kelsey was now going to have to go out and look for her. How thoughtless was that!
Annoyed and irritated, Kelsey picked up her leather jacket from the clutter on the floor of the living room, tucked her keys and phone into her pocket and left the flat with a feeling of self-righteousness. This was what good mothers did if their kids were missing, wasn’t it? Go out on a cold night and look for them. Even so, she didn’t think she’d be telling the social worker what had happened.
It was freezing; a frost had settled and she could see her bre
ath in the air. Leila wouldn’t be outside in this for sure. She hated the cold and was always complaining her coat wasn’t warm enough. Perhaps she was staying the night at a friend’s house. That’s what kids her age did, Kelsey thought. They had sleepovers, although Leila had never been invited to one before, and if she was sleeping at a friend’s house why hadn’t the parents phoned to let Kelsey know? Perhaps Leila had pretended she’d told her and was now teaching her a lesson for being a crap mother. Yes, that fitted. It seemed a reasonable assumption. Had she known who her daughter’s friends were she could have phoned them and checked Leila was there. But she didn’t have a clue who her daughter associated with or even if she had any friends. The kid just got on with her life as she had to.
Kelsey continued across the estate, which was poorly lit and now eerily quiet in the early hours of the morning. She was still half-expecting Leila to suddenly appear, perhaps having been watching her from one of the flats. She looked up at the windows she passed for any sign of a child looking out, but nearly all the flats were in darkness, and no face appeared. A police siren sounded in the distance and a lone dog barked. The cold was seeping through her clothes and into her bones, making her miserable and her teeth chatter.
Suddenly she needed to crap. That was the trouble with coke: it gave you the squits that couldn’t be ignored. Ducking behind a wall where the refuse bins were kept, Kelsey squatted down, did her business, then took a tissue from her jacket pocket and wiped her bum. Straightening, she zipped up her jeans and continued to search the estate for her daughter.
Kelsey had known all along that at some point she was going to have to knock on Gawping Goodman’s door. If Leila wasn’t there, Goodman would probably know where to find her. Her maisonette looked straight onto the play area where the kids gathered. Goodman spent most of her waking hours looking out, and she knew better than most of the parents on the estate where their kids were and what they were up to. If the police came looking for someone or if there’d been an incident on the estate, they usually asked Goodman if she had any information, and she was always pleased to assist. When a teenage girl fell pregnant, which they did quite regularly around here, Goodman knew first, and who the father was, long before anyone else did, even the girl’s mother. As well as being the eyes of the estate, she was also its ears. The kids seemed to confide in her, probably because there was no one at home to listen to their problems. Granny Goodman, the kids called her, while the adults – resenting but needing her help – called her plenty of other things.
Kelsey continued along the perimeter road that ran all around the edge of the estate and saw no one. Feeling she’d done everything she could, she retraced her steps. As she approached the play area she was sure she could smell the dump she’d taken earlier lingering in the cold night air. Goodman’s maisonette was in darkness and her curtains were closed, but as usual the porch light was on. The old bat made a point of leaving it on every night, telling the kids it was a light in their darkness, a beacon of hope for them to come to, or some such rubbish.
Kelsey stared at the doorbell, reluctant to press it. She was sure to get a lecture before the witch told her where Leila was. She didn’t think she could stomach it right now. She was tired, cold and hungry and she needed to find Leila and get into bed. With a small flash of hope she checked her phone again, but there were no new messages. The time showed 4 a.m. She glanced up at her own flat on the other side of the play area – the lights were on as she’d left them. She wondered if Leila could have returned in her absence, but realistically the chances of that were slim. And if she had returned, she would have used the landline to call her to find out where she was. Kelsey either had to press Gawping Goodman’s doorbell and listen to her lecture, or tell her sister or the police that she couldn’t find Leila. She didn’t fancy doing either. Sharon would be even more angry and holier-than-thou than the last time, and the police were sure to notify the social services, who would take Leila away from her. Leila had a habit of disappearing, but she always turned up eventually.
Shivering from the cold and with mounting nausea, Kelsey pressed the doorbell. A Big Ben chime rang pretentiously in the hall. She waited but not for long. The net curtain in the window beside the door twitched and Goodman peered out. She must have been awake.
‘Open up,’ Kelsey mouthed, pointing at the door. ‘I need to talk to you.’
Goodman rolled her eyes disapprovingly and let the curtain drop. A moment later the door chain rattled, a bolt slid and the door opened. Goodman, wearing a floral fleece dressing gown buttoned up to her neck and with her grey hair clipped down for the night, didn’t try to hide her censorious expression. Kelsey forced herself to stay calm and not give her a mouthful. She needed her help.
‘Yes?’ the old bat asked. ‘What do you want at this time of night, Kelsey?’
‘Is Leila with you?’
‘No, she isn’t. Children rarely stay overnight. Their parents come to collect them eventually.’
‘Do you know where she is?’
‘No.’
‘Did you see her yesterday?’
‘Yes, in the evening when she should have been at home.’ Here we go, Kelsey thought. Just stay calm. ‘You never learn, do you, Kelsey? God was kind enough to bless you with children. And you have wasted his precious gift. Women like you don’t deserve kids. If I had my way, I’d—’
It was too much for Kelsey in her fragile state. ‘Will you shut the fuck up and tell me where Leila is? I’m not feeling well and I’m worried about her.’
‘Really?’ Goodman asked cynically.
‘Yes, really.’
‘And you honestly can’t remember where she is?’
‘No. Sorry. It seems to have slipped my mind,’ Kelsey snapped sarcastically
‘Your bloke took her. Well, I assume that’s who he was.’
‘My bloke? What are you talking about?’ Kelsey stared at her.
‘Your new fancy man, latest boyfriend, client, whatever you call him. He came to the play area around six-fifteen and took her. Just as well, otherwise the poor child would have been there all night for all you care.’
Kelsey continued to stare at her, trying to make sense of what she was being told.
‘A man took my Leila?’ she asked, shivering.
‘And you can’t remember!’
‘Who was he?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t be expected to keep track of all your fancy men.’
‘He’s not my fancy man!’ Kelsey exploded. ‘Will you stop saying that! You’re doing my head in. I didn’t send anyone to collect Leila.’
Mrs Goodman held Kelsey’s gaze. ‘You wouldn’t know even if you had. You’re so out of it most of the time. I can’t help you and I’m getting cold standing here. Go home. I’m sure your daughter is being looked after by him. Goodnight.’ The door closed.
FOUR
Pulling her jacket closer around her to keep out the cold, Kelsey headed back across the dark, deserted play area towards her flat. Leila had gone with a man – her boyfriend, the old witch had said – but Kelsey didn’t have a boyfriend. She hadn’t sent anyone to collect Leila, she was sure of it. Or was she? Goodman knew most things and the old cow was usually right. Kelsey knew her own mind was so messed up from years of drink and drug abuse that she forgot stuff all the time. But could she really have forgotten that she’d asked someone to fetch Leila from the play area? Was it possible? Yes, her brain was in such a state, she had to admit it was.
As Kelsey walked, she struggled to think back, but once she’d started on the coke and vodka her mind had become blank. That was the point of it – to block out her miserable life and make things seem better for a while. She remembered she had vaguely heard a man’s voice in the distance and Leila laughing, but it was all indistinct, like in a dream. She hated to admit it, but Gawping Goodman was probably right. Hopefully Leila had now returned to their flat or was being looked after by the man who’d collected her. But who was he? Certainly not Lei
la’s father. He’d disappeared as soon as she’d told him she was pregnant. And hadn’t she searched the flat before she’d come out? Perhaps she hadn’t searched it properly.
The lift doors clanged shut, reverberating down the empty corridor, and the lift began to rise with a harsh grating noise. A printed notice inside the lift asked residents not to use the lift late at night or early in the morning as it woke others, but there was no way Kelsey was going to climb three flights of stairs in her state. Exhausted, with her head throbbing and feeling sick, she just needed to get into her bed. The lift juddered to a halt and the doors opened. For a moment as she went down the corridor towards her flat she wondered why she’d been out at all, then she remembered.
‘Leila?’ she called as she let herself into her flat. ‘Are you here?’
Silence. She checked her bedroom, then Leila’s room, then the bathroom and living room. There was no one here. No man and no Leila, so the old witch Goodman was wrong! Now what? She hadn’t a clue. She wondered if she should be really worried as Leila was still missing, but she didn’t think it was necessary just yet. Goodman had said a man had taken her, but it had to be someone Leila knew because she would never have gone off with a stranger. She was too streetwise and savvy for that.
But where was she? Who knew Kelsey well enough to do her a favour like that? Their immediate neighbours were both single mothers. Brooke Adams, who lived in the flat to the right of hers, had helped her out in the past, but she’d said she wouldn’t do it again and had told Kelsey to get herself sorted before it was too late.
Kelsey flopped on the sofa and tried to think of someone who might have collected Leila from the play area and could now be looking after her. No one came to mind. Bone weary – it was now 4.30 a.m. – she rested her head back on the sofa and closed her eyes. She could really have done with a smoke, but she didn’t have anything apart from the remaining gram of coke and she was saving that for later. If she used it now, she’d have nothing to look forward to. She’d save it for as long as she could.
