Faceless

by Martina Cole

  Life was hard these days and it was going to get harder. She knew that better than anyone.

  Maxie and Eddie were having a drink in the Dean Swift. They were meeting a man there who had a bit of information for them. They were off their usual manor and consequently uneasy. As they sipped their designer beers they looked around warily. But the place seemed friendly enough and they gradually relaxed.

  Dino Carvalles came into the pub with his usual good-humoured smile and waved at them as he got himself a drink. Approaching their table he said genially, ‘How’s it going, guys?’

  Maxie grinned. Dino was a big man and a funny one. He had a natural sense of comic timing that made his jokes all the more hilarious.

  ‘OK. Yourself ?’

  Dino shrugged.

  ‘Usual. Here, what do you say to a woman with two black eyes and a fat lip? “That will teach you to keep your trap shut!”’

  They all laughed, along with three men from another table who had heard the joke. One of them shouted out, ‘What do you call a coon in a suit? The accused.’

  The men with him busted themselves with laughter but Maxie turned in his seat and looked at them menacingly.

  ‘What did you fucking say?’

  The joketeller was big with a shaved head and a tattoo round his neck that read ‘Cut here’. Maxie had seen people like him all his life and he hated them. Hated their racism, the fact that they put themselves above him and his black brothers just because they were white.

  Dino shouted, ‘What has a white bloke with a big cock got that his mates ain’t? A black forefather!’

  The big man was not amused and he stood up menacingly.

  ‘Outside, now.’

  Eddie stood up with Maxie. He was upset at this treatment as well and was determined to show them that.

  ‘In the car park now, you cunt!’

  They all walked from the pub. As they hit the street Maxie saw five blokes in a white Cavalier. He realised before Eddie did that they had been set up. The men were tooled up and as they got out of the car Maxie felt his bowels turn to ice water. Dino was distancing himself from the action. As Maxie caught his eye he shrugged as if to say sorry.

  Dino had set them up and it could only have been over one person. Eddie realised this was because of Tiffany Carter and cursed himself for getting involved in the first place.

  He caught Maxie’s eyes and knew that he was thinking exactly the same thing. They saw knives, wrenches and baseball bats. It was serious; this wasn’t going to be just a hiding. They were dead.

  The big white skinhead grinned.

  ‘Patrick Connor says hello.’

  The beating was fast and brutal. Eddie died on his way to hospital and Maxie never regained consciousness.

  It hit the papers as a race crime, as Patrick had expected it to.

  They never stood a chance.

  Verbena was at home waiting for her husband to bring back the woman who had birthed Jason yet never been a mother to him. Her son – her son not this woman’s – was already showered and changed into his best and waiting with bated breath for Marie’s arrival.

  The place was spotless. She had offered her cleaner double wages to come in and do the honours. It was now pristine. She would show this slut how they lived. What they had offered her child, the one she had abandoned without a second’s thought. Just like her daughter had done.

  Verbena was shaking and it was from anger pure and simple. Her whole body felt as if it was crying out for something. She knew, deep inside, that what she wanted was for her son to tell her he hated his natural mother and wasn’t going to see her ever again.

  She clung to that hope. Once he had seen Marie Carter in all her disgusting glory he would realise what he had in Verbena herself. Her fragrant cleanliness. Her love for him. Her devotion even. Wasn’t she taking on his slut of a sister’s child? Didn’t that prove her love for him that she would do that?

  Verbena did not really like girls, they were troublesome. She preferred boys. Boys needed their mothers for all the right reasons. Once he saw his birth mother Jason would understand her worries. Imagine introducing a woman like her to his friends! Youngsters from good, affluent homes. It was laughable.

  But she couldn’t laugh, not yet. Not until she had seen his reaction. Ossie said Marie had seemed very nice. But he would, her good old-fashioned liberal man who voted green and had no idea about the real world whatsoever.

  ‘They’re here!’

  She heard the excitement in Jason’s voice and sighed. Heard him running down the entrance hall to open the door. She lit a cigarette and carefully arranged her face into a neutral expression. She would wait and see what happened. When a big blowsy trollop came in she would smile at her and be nice. Jason was, after all, her son now not this woman’s and Verbena would prove that to her. She looked at the photo albums on the table and felt a moment’s triumph. She had the memories, not this woman, and would prove that to her with subtlety and cunning.

  This was war and the other woman did not stand a chance.

  Marie looked up at the large house and felt a moment’s shyness. It was in a pleasant tree-lined street and all the drives had new cars parked in them. It was a good area and she saw a woman looking at them curiously as she went about her business. She looked pointedly at Marie’s suit and suddenly she found it lacking, wished she had had time to buy a new dress before she met her son. First impressions were so important.

  Then the front door was flung open and she gasped as she saw the boy coming towards her. It was Marshall, her brother, only with dark skin and hair. But the likeness was uncanny. It made her heart stop in her chest and her breath come in short shuddering gasps. This was her son, her child, her baby.

  The tears came then, and as he stood before her, his smiling face so honest and sincere in its joy, the tears burst from Marie’s eyes and she instinctively gathered him into her arms. As his went around her she felt as if God Himself had come down from heaven and performed a miracle. She felt happy, truly happy, for the first time in many long years.

  She could smell him: a mixture of expensive soap and young man’s sweat. He was shaking almost as much as she was.

  Jason pulled himself free from her embrace and said shyly, ‘Hello again, Mum.’

  She hugged him as if afraid to let him go. She was frightened in case he disappeared from her sight.

  ‘Hello, Jason.’

  Her voice was a distant memory, but it stirred something inside him and he fell in love with his mother as boys do. He fell in love with her as the woman who had conceived him and borne him and without whom he would not exist. All his life he had needed something and now he knew what it was. He had needed to know where he came from, and he had come from this pretty woman standing before him. He would finally know what and who he was.

  Marie looked down the hallway and saw a woman standing there, beautifully dressed and with an expression that made her look as if she had just had a knife stuck into her ribs.

  Verbena walked back to the kitchen in a daze.

  The woman was beautiful. Extremely so. The opposite from what she had expected. Marie had entranced her son and Verbena had a feeling she had also entranced Oswald. She had heard him telling Jason how nice his mother seemed and had assumed he was just trying to make the whole thing easier for the boy. Wrong. He was understating her attraction if anything.

  She lit another cigarette and busied herself making coffee and tea. She was fuming inside and also feeling frightened. This woman could take her son from her, but that was never going to happen, not while Verbena had breath in her body. As she heard them come into the house she plastered a smile on to her face.

  She was standing by the double sink when Marie walked into the kitchen, held out her hand and said gently, ‘Hello. Thank you for letting me come to your beautiful home.’

  As Verbena shook hands all she could think was, This woman is stunning. She is enigmatic, has natural grace, and my son and husband are hang
ing on her every word.

  ‘Coffee, tea?’

  It was all she could force from between her tight lips. She just wanted to take back her arm and fell this woman to the floor, so great was the jealousy inside her.

  Carole Halter was in a pub having a quick drink between punters. The weather had turned again and it was cold, especially at night, so she was freezing in her flimsy clothing.

  ‘Hello, Carole, all right?’

  She turned to see Lally Turner, an old brass she had known for years.

  ‘Fuck me, girl, you still going?’

  Lally shook her head.

  ‘Nah, I have a little bird scratching for me these days.’ Lally was a large woman, a renowned lesbian with a penchant for young girls whom she put on the game. She had worked the streets for years and was well known, a fountain of wisdom and also a hard nut to crack.

  ‘You heard the news about Connor?’

  Lally’s voice was conspiratorial.

  ‘No, what?’ Carole was instantly all ears.

  ‘He’s put five grand on Tiffany Carter’s head. Whoever delivers her gets the poke. He must be in love is all I can say.’

  Carole’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘His new bird. Maisie, is it? She was asking round this afternoon.’

  ‘I ain’t heard nothing about it.’

  Lally shrugged.

  ‘Well, I spoke to her meself. Wouldn’t mind getting a bit of action from her. Right up for it, as young as she is. He has a goldmine there, but knowing that black ponce he’s already sussed that much out for himself.’

  Carole finished her drink in double quick time and left the pub. Her mind was reeling. Five thousand pounds, plus the chance to get back into Connor’s good books!

  She knew she was scum and she knew she was wrong but she’d make the call anyway. That was a lot of money and Carole needed it desperately.

  She was humming as she walked to the nearest phone box. It crossed her mind that with five grand she could get herself a mobile.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Verbena watched as both her husband and son tried to get their ten pence worth in with this woman who had infiltrated her home. She studied Marie quietly, looking at everything from her hair to her shoes. Her clothes had seen better days but were still good quality.

  ‘This is us in Barbados. My mum, I mean . . .’

  Jason was unsure how to put things and Marie smiled gently and said, ‘She is your mother, Jason, legally as well as emotionally. I don’t mind you saying it.’

  Verbena saw the look of relief on her son’s face and could have screamed. Her boy was actually pandering to this murdering bitch! A tart who had been a drug addict and a whore, yet to look at her own husband and son you’d think the Queen herself had come to tea. She watched as they smiled happily at one another and wanted to shout at them all.

  She didn’t need this woman to give her son permission to call her Mother – she had been his mother for years. She stood up abruptly and went back to the kitchen; she could not stand to listen to any more.

  She left them in the drawing room, laughing with the bitch as she was already calling Marie Carter in her head. The force of her own feelings scared her. She felt capable of murder herself. She took a few deep breaths and lit yet another cigarette. She could smell Marie, like a bitch on heat she was, drawing men to her. Taking the two most important people in Verbena’s life and winning them over.

  Her husband followed her and slipped his arms around her waist. Verbena pulled away from him and whispered spitefully, ‘You want that around my son?’

  Ossie looked at her sadly and answered her in the same vein.

  ‘She is a nice woman, Verbena. Give her a break. She is trying to change her life. She has done a degree; is a changed person. She is rehabilitated, darling. And your son is also her son and my son. Not exclusively yours. Not now, not ever.’

  Verbena was hurting. She didn’t want to hear what her husband was saying. She shook her head at him, as if looking at a complete fool.

  ‘I knew this would happen. She waltzes in here with her flashy looks and her terrible clothes and invades my home – and you take her part. Well, I’ve seen the way you look at her. She knows how to get men on her side – it’s what women like her are good at, isn’t it? Prostitutes, whores, call them what you will.’

  Ossie was shaking his head in bewilderment. He could not believe what his wife was saying. He had expected jealousy; she had always been jealous though she managed to keep it under control most of the time. But this was disproportionate.

  ‘Have you gone mad, woman? And keep your damn voice down!’

  Verbena’s face was twisted with rage and hurt.

  ‘There you go, defending her again. She looks like Christine Wallace, is that the attraction?’

  Ossie sighed to have that thrown at him again. Christine had been a partner at his private practice. She had been clever, beautiful, and Verbena had hated her on sight.

  ‘Christine and I were friends. She worked with me, that is all. I am sick of having to explain that over and over again. You know it’s the truth.’

  Verbena laughed nastily.

  ‘Do I? How do I know anything any more? I saw the way you looked at that woman, and I know men. I know what you want from her – and she’ll let you have it, I have no doubt about that. She likes black men, doesn’t she?’

  She turned from him and gripped the sink. She expected him to try and cajole her again but instead he walked quietly from the kitchen.

  Verbena realised she had gone too far.

  Marie smiled at Ossie as he came back into the lounge. He looked worried. She had already picked up the vibes from Verbena and was aware of the underlying tension here even though the boy wasn’t.

  Why did this always happen to her? Why did women hate her so much on sight without even trying to get to know her? She could have understood it if she was half-naked or if she flirted with their men, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t.

  But Verbena was like her own mother. Her son was her all and no other woman was ever going to take him from her. Verbena had the same dead-eyed look as Louise and the same body language. Her smile never reached her eyes. She had a coldness to her face that seemed to reach out to Marie and lodge itself in her heart. She was more than aware that as far as Verbena was concerned, Marie Carter was not welcome in this house or their lives, particularly Jason’s, and she never, ever would be.

  It wasn’t just because she was Jason’s real mother; it went deeper than that and Marie knew it. This was a jealousy that was out of control. It would have been the same if she had been his girlfriend. Verbena was full of hatred for other women and if Marie wasn’t careful it would be turned on her full force.

  She would have to tread warily because she wanted this boy in her life more than she had ever wanted anything before. It was a dream come true. And through him she might even gain access to her daughter and grandchild. She could maybe have a bit of family around her, what she had dreamed of for so many years.

  She’d just have to pretend she didn’t notice anything and hope for the best. But it galled her that once more in her life she was at the mercy of an unhappy and vindictive woman. She forced a smile and made herself concentrate on her son. He at least was pleased to see her and that in itself was a miracle as far as Marie was concerned.

  Alan was at Thurrock services once more. As he stood by smoking a cigarette, he kept his eye out for the Scania lorry that was going to deliver his cargo to Newcastle. This was a new venture, but with Tilbury docks having so much gear arriving on a daily basis it was good business. At least as far as Mikey was concerned.

  Alan was not so sure. In fact he wondered what the hell he was doing here in the first place. He must have been mad.

  The smell of diesel hung in the air, and the thunder of traffic on the M25 was loud and disturbing. He thought about Marie and hoped she was OK. He knew she was seein
g her son. Mikey had let the cat out of the bag and Alan was hurt that she had not even mentioned it to him. But then again, why should she?

  Things were still strained between them. It didn’t matter what he told her, he knew he was never going to accept Marie and Mikey being together. It had given him the push he needed to expel Devlin from his life. Alan wanted out and he was going to get out, no matter what. It might cost him, but it would be worth it.

  His mobile rang and he answered it. The drop was all ready to go ahead and he glanced around him to make sure everyone was in place. He felt sick with apprehension but this was something he had to do. He had no say in it whatsoever.

  Which didn’t make it any easier.

  Tiffany was still at Carole’s and she was completely out of her head. The rocks were the only things she wanted. Needed. They had taken over every other feeling she had. Suppressing even her mothering instincts, which had been strong, they made her forget all the troubles in her life. The only bugbear was, the problems were still there when she came down, and then the depression caused by the crack made them seem much worse than they had been before. It was a vicious circle and she hated it. But she was in a no-win situation now and just had to go with whatever made her feel good at the time. This was her life and she had accepted it.

  She understood why her mother had gone like she had. It had been because of Patrick Connor; he had worked his evil magic on her too. He was a destroyer of people, had been doing it for years. It had been in this very flat he had first taken Tiffany under his wing, bullshitting her about her mother and what a whore she had been. How he had tried to help her because she was the mother of his child, Tiffany’s brother.

  She had needed him then; just out of the council home and in the real world all alone, he had seemed like a rock to her. He had been so handsome, with money, a nice car, and well respected. Everywhere she went with him they were treated like royalty. She had been swept off her feet, had thought she was so clever. So on the ball. Then she had had the baby, and that was when he had changed towards her. The rest was a complete and utter travesty of love. He had taken her and given her drugs, talked her into whoring and made her into the person she had tried so hard not to be. Her poor mother . . . the woman he had said so many bad things about and convinced Tiffany was scum. But her mother had tried to help her and Tiffany had turned away, while simultaneously wanting to feel her arms around her and wanting to have her nearby.