"What's it like?"
The van driver paused again. It was almost as if he was thinking of the best way to sugarcoat it. After looking across at Marie for a moment, he returned his attention to the road. "They're all horrible, love."
Some of the blocks were better than others; one of the few things Frankie had told her about the estate was that the family blocks had a lower crime rate. She should tell the driver about her pregnancy. She was still technically pregnant and if it made her life any easier… "I'm pregnant."
The driver swerved slightly as he looked across at her again. When he pulled the van straight, it sent a lurch through Marie's stomach. The baby didn't move.
"You're pregnant?"
"Yep."
"Why didn't you say?"
"Because I'm having a child out of wedlock. That was a one way ticket to the estate and I need to keep my job."
The driver tapped his small computer again. A couple of seconds later a phone rang through the van's speaker system.
"Hang on," Marie said. "Who are you phoning?"
But someone answered before he could tell her. "Hello."
"John? It's Will."
"Everything okay, mate?"
Will scratched his face. "Um, not really; how much of her stuff has been moved in?"
"All of it. Why?"
"She's pregnant."
"Fuck it!"
Will looked at Marie again and mouthed the word sorry. "We need to get her in the single mum's block."
"Fuck no!"
"Sorry, mate, but we can't put a pregnant woman in B Block."
"Too fucking bad!"
"So I can leave that with you, yeah? You’ll send me through her new address?"
"Fuck it!"
Another tap on the small screen and Will cut the conversation off. "Sorry about the swearing, the boys don't like to spend more time on the estate than they have to."
"I can imagine!" Marie sank in her seat and stared out of the window again. They were getting closer to the grey buildings with every passing second. "I don't fucking blame them."
Will didn't reply.
***
When he pulled up outside the estate, Will turned the engine off. "The only thing in the back is a suitcase. Another removal van with moving droids got everything else. We were expecting you to have more things."
Without replying, Marie popped the door open and stepped out onto the pavement. Sure, Will was a nice guy but he was dropping her off at the estate. The last thing she wanted was to form a bond with him.
Once out of the van, Marie stood in the huge shadows of the tower block and inhaled the reek of rotting waste. Wherever she looked, there was rubbish and split bin bags. If the rubbish men ever came here, it was infrequently at best. Then she saw a shifting of something in amongst the waste. It was a rat and it was as big as a dog. Marie held back her tears. Crying wasn't going to fix anything and she'd done too much of that already.
The loud rumble of her wheeled suitcase grabbed Marie's attention and startled the huge rodent.
When he stopped next to her, Will handed her a piece of paper. "This is your new address. John just sent it through."
Marie took the paper and slipped it straight into her pocket without reading it. Get the hint, Will. Fuck off! When she looked back at the entrance to her new home, every atom of her being screamed for her to run away; it was hardly a solid plan though. She had nowhere to go.
Will was still standing next to her so she scowled at him. "Are you waiting to gloat or something?"
"Look," explained Will, "The way it works when someone's sent to the estate is the authorities notify the landlord first to give them the chance to evict their tenants with as little fuss as possible. The landlords then employ us to empty the properties. When we've emptied the properties, we then report back what we've done."
"As interesting as your job is, Will. What's your point?"
"My point is, at the moment, only your landlord and I know you've been evicted. The next stage is to tell your boss, if you have one, and anyone else it may concern."
Marie's stomach dropped—she would be jobless now too.
"Your boss will find out eventually; there's no avoiding that," Will said. "But if I accidentally," he used his fingers to make air quotes, "put the wrong details into the system, it'll take a month or two for them to find the mistake. All I need to do is put a couple of letters in your name in the wrong order and you'll vanish for a while. We all make mistakes right?"
Marie looked at Will. "Why are you being kind to me? What do you want?"
"I don't want anything, love. You look like you have enough shit on your plate. If we can keep your information hidden until at least your bump starts to show, then maybe you'll find a way out of this horrible place." Will then leaned forward and rubbed the top of her arm. "I'll be praying for you."
Marie took a deep breath. Time was a good thing. It was what she needed.
Once Will was in the van and had started the engine, she pulled the crude map he'd given her from her pocket. The printout itself was to a high standard, the computer doing its best to represent the higgledy-piggledy estate. The design of the place was chaos; lines ran everywhere on it. It looked like an architect's idea of hell—a labyrinth of pain and suffering.
When she stepped closer to the entranceway, the reek of decomposition made her heady. She nudged the rusty gate open with her foot and entered the first alleyway. It was so dark it was like stepping from day to night.
***
The close walls amplified the sound of Marie's trundling case, calling her out to anyone who was interested enough to look. The wrinkled map in her hand told her she was heading to the single mum's block. There was only one and on the map, it looked huge. Her new flat number was 1023.
The next alleyway was so narrow that Marie had to walk with a diagonal twist in her upper body, and her case grazed the walls on either side. With her lungs tightening, she looked up at the sky. It didn't matter how close it was around her, there was always space above. After a few more paces, her ragged heart calmed down and she pushed on. Claustrophobia was a bitch.
When she rounded the next bend, Marie retched. There was a muddy tang of human waste mixed with an acidic reek of household rubbish. With her eyes watering and her head spinning, she heaved again. The toast she ate that morning rose up as a chunky lump and burned the back of her throat. It was no good; she had to stop. She reached out and steadied herself on the rough wall on her left. After a few seconds, she continued on, using one hand to maintain her balance as she walked.
Once she was walking straight again, Marie pulled her hand away from the wall and gripped her nose in a tight pinch.
Before long, she had to stop again because the path was blocked by a huge mound of used nappies. Flies buzzed around the soiled white pile, landing on the exposed lumps of faeces before circling around her head. Fucking hell! What was wrong with this place? Marie batted the flies away and looked for another way round but there wasn't one.
Marie held her breath and lifted her case. She then stepped forwards onto the faecal mess. Brown water oozed from the squishy ground and ran across the top of her open sandals. It turned the gaps between her toes slick. This was her life now, she'd best get used to it.
The next block was called Alcoholic's Block. She'd already passed Lazy Block and Obese Block but what must have been hundreds of towers lay on the path ahead. If the map was accurate though, she was nearly there. Then she heard it.
"Oi oi."
The call bounced off the tightly packed walls, the reverberation making it impossible to pinpoint where it was coming from.
"Fresh meat, lads."
It was a different voice this time.
"We'll soon teach her a lesson."
There was movement in the walkways above. A group of men stared down at her. A quick headcount showed her eight leering faces. It was possible there were many more.
"Where do you think she's going?"
"Single
Mum's, I reckon."
"Slut."
"Whore."
The insults made her head spin and she increased her pace. With the plastic wheels clattering along, Marie looked down and kept going.
"We'll let her settle in and then teach her that lesson, eh?"
How had it come to this? Tears glazed her eyes, but Marie held onto them. She couldn't cry. Not now.
"Yeah, we'll wait until she's dropped her bag off and then we'll eight-ball her in the stairway. She obviously puts out."
How would Frankie react if he saw this? What would it do to him to know this was her and their child's fate?
Marie's knees buckled, throwing her off balance, but she managed to stay upright.
"She needs to know she belongs to the estate now."
From what she could tell, every voice was from a different man. How many of them were there?
Upon rounding the next corner, Marie saw her new home. It stood as wide as it did tall and blocked the sun out completely. Grey and erect, it was like a huge tombstone.
Marie dropped her head, pushed on, and disappeared inside.
Chapter Forty-Five
Once inside the building, Marie shifted into the shadows in the gloomy hallway and took a moment to catch her breath. If there were lights in here at one point, they were nothing but a memory now. Maybe that was for the best. If the smell of human waste was anything to go by, maybe she was better off not seeing anything.
Although the closing door had shut out the abuse from the men behind, their jeers had now been replaced with what sounded like thousands of crying babies. The screams were so high-pitched they drilled into Marie's skull and came at her from every angle. With her hands clamped over her ears, she leaned against the wall, her nerves frayed from the sensory assault.
***
It took a few minutes, but once she'd calmed down, Marie stepped out of the darkness and walked into the middle of the block. The building was square, the flats running around all four sides. The space above her stretched all the way up to the roof. It was a huge, empty column that made her head spin when she looked up it. It was too dark to see the top.
Each floor was an identical layer of the one beneath it, a perfect square with flats running down each side. They were placed one on top of the other—little imagination had gone into the planning of this building. It was almost like it had been built by a child. The sole exception was the ground floor, which had a space to accommodate the entranceway.
The only light came in through sparsely placed windows, most of which were thick with grime. Every part of the place was horrible.
As she stood there trying to take the place in, Marie looked for somewhere to sit. It was like the depression in the air was robbing her of her will to continue. Just a little sit down would do her fine—or would it? Just a little sit down and she'd probably not get back up again. Apathy was pulling at her feet and threatening to drag her under.
Thump!
The ground shook next to Marie and she jumped back; her pulse quickening as her wide eyes searched the darkness. What the fuck?
Then she saw it: a form on the floor, and she started to shake. It was actually two forms—a woman and her baby—each body as broken as the other.
Moving closer, she saw a huge sign around the woman's neck. Red writing had been scrawled over the white board.
What's the point?
We're fucked in this place.
Despite squinting up into the gloom and searching the walkways above, it was impossible to see where they'd jumped from. The pair wasn't moving, and no one was helping them. They were obviously dead. Was life on the estate that cheap that no one cared to check?
A projectile then flew out of the darkness and Marie ducked, the white blur narrowly missing her head. It was a dirty nappy. The entire floor was littered with them. Did anyone care that there was a dead woman and baby lying there?
Not wanting to touch the woman or the filthy floor, Marie backed away. What could she do anyway? They were dead, and if Will had kept her whereabouts hidden, she shouldn't be revealing it so quickly by calling the police. They'd go to Doug in an instant, and what was the point? No one cared about the lives of two estate rats.
Marie turned her back on them and walked towards the stairway to the next floor.
***
By the time she'd reached the second floor, Marie was sweating to the point where the back of her shirt clung to her. The flat numbers started on two hundred on this floor. How was that even possible? Each one must be tiny to have that many homes on one level. If all of the floors were identical, this block had at least twenty thousand flats in it. Good job she was in number 1023. The walk to the top would kill her. Maybe that was why the woman had jumped; maybe she got fed up of traipsing up and down the stairs.
***
Marie arrived at her flat and the door was locked. Attached to Marie's suitcase was a small brass object; the map called it a key. It was a strange key. Doors were supposed to be opened with scans of fingerprints or retinas. Even the most basic systems used a card, not a piece of metal.
Along one side of the door was a circular brass plate. It was the same colour as the key. Pushing the key into the slot, she said, "Huh, it fits."
After a few seconds, nothing had happened, so Marie shoved the door. It was still locked. She was at the correct flat—1023, like the map said.
She pinched the key, shook it, and pushed the door again.
Nothing.
When she wiggled it, it twisted slightly. Another turn and it opened the door. This was going to take some getting used to.
As soon as she stepped inside, Marie was hit with a smell that was somewhere between dirt and wet dog. It was better than the reek of shit she'd had to endure on the way over, but it still stank. Once inside, she closed the door behind her.
It was quieter in the flat, but just being in the filthy place made Marie's skin itch. She was going to have to clean it soon.
The floors were carpeted, but every one of them was frayed and stained. It was the kind of home where you left your shoes on, although with the brown water from earlier… Marie flipped her sandals off and shuddered when the grit on the floor stuck to her bare feet.
Marie inspected the place as she walked around it. The wallpaper hung off the walls in strips. The paint on the skirting boards was peeling off. Some of the light switches were cracked and bare wires hung out of them. It was hardly childproof. Not that it mattered; she was hardly with child anymore.
What little furniture she owned had been set up. Because most of the stuff in her old place belonged to the landlord, her new home looked like a squat at best.
She found her clothes still in the removal company's boxes in the bedroom. In the middle of the floor was her mattress.
As she stood there in the bedroom, she held her stomach and waited. There was still no movement.
The flat was stuffy, so she walked over to the window to open it. The handle twisted, but when she pushed, the window wouldn't budge. The smaller one opened with ease. Then she saw the lock on the other side. There was nothing worth stealing in the flats, so it must be to stop jumpers, although no one seemed to care if they jumped inside—out of sight and all that.
***
The bathroom was so dirty that just being in it scrambled the thoughts in Marie's head. How could someone live like this? Yellow stains ran around the light blue sink and toilet. Marie heaved as she covered her mouth and flushed the toilet that had been left soiled for a while. What was wrong with people?
Mould ran between the tiling around the bath, the corkboard floor was soft with rot, and lime scale caked the taps—it was impossible to see the chrome beneath it. The bathtub had a dark brown stain in it like someone had died there.
A deep breath and Marie closed her eyes. "It'll be fine. Everything will work out okay."
***
Marie emptied her clothes onto her bed, dragged the box into the front room, and sat on it. The view out of
the window was of another tower block similar to hers. It was the same grey brick and dirty windows. If the windows had opened, it would have been close enough for her to touch.
A rub of her stomach still returned no response from the baby. What happened when a baby died in utero? What was she going to do when it was time to give birth?
A sudden knock at the door made Marie jump. She stared at the back of it, held her breath, and remained perfectly still. Surely, no one knew she was in there. What about Will hiding her information? Does that mean Doug knew now too? Was it Doug?
Knock, knock!
Marie cleared her throat. "Who is it?"
Despite the door muffling her voice, it was clear enough. "It's me."
When Marie opened the door, Gina was standing on the other side, a hood pulled up over her head. "How did you find out where I live?" After a pause, she added, "Again."
After stepping inside and pulling her hood back, Gina shrugged. "I went to your house and saw a removal man helping the new people in. He told me where he'd moved you to. At first he was coy about which block you were in, but I explained I was a friend."
When Marie stared but didn't respond, Gina started walking around the flat and took the place in.
"Horrible isn't it?" Marie said.
Gina shook her head. "No, it's all right."
"All right for a crack den maybe. It's fucking horrible. Don't try to pretend it isn't."
Gina didn't reply.
"Anyway, how did you manage to cross the estate without any problems?"
"I covered up. The last thing I want is to be recognised by someone from Rixon. Us being friends would most likely land us both in New Reality." Then she pulled something from inside her jacket. "Secondly, I brought protection."
Marie gasped. "A gun?"
"You need one on the estate, darling."
This was what life had come to; she needed a gun just to walk home.
When she walked into the kitchen and tried to open a cupboard, the handle came off in her hand. She put it down on the side and fished her teabags out. "Do you want some tea?"
New Reality 2: Justice Page 22
