by Martina Cole
‘What about the crack? You won’t go the night without it. There’s a bit of coke knocking around here but that’s about it. The odd joint maybe, but crack is a complete no-no, darling.’
‘It’s not mine. It’s my boyfriend’s.’
‘You just scored it for him?’
She nodded.
‘Nice bloke he is. I suppose you earned the money for it as well?’
She nodded once more.
‘You want a bit of advice, love? Change the boyfriend and change him soon. You’ll be on it within three months. Seen it time and time again.’
She sighed, and he could see she was near to tears.
‘I need this job. I can’t take another night on the pavement. I want the job to get meself a proper place and that.’
He sat back down and stared at her for a while. She had something about her. He knew she would do things for the business. Joanie would have given her a chance but she wasn’t here due to Kira’s foray into alcohol abuse. Lazy Caroline was off gallivanting with her new squeeze and he was left to hold the fort.
‘Who’s your boyfriend?’
She was startled by the question.
‘Why do you want to know that?’
‘Because I am a fucking nosy bastard! So come on, who is he?’
She sighed once more, and he could see she was going to lie to him so he said abruptly, ‘I can find out in two hours, love. I can find out his name, address and his fucking cock size so tell me the truth.’
‘Pippy Light.’
She saw his eyebrows rise.
‘Pippy! Jesus, love, you really have started at the bottom, ain’t you? Working your way down the ladder by any chance?’
She shrugged.
‘Where you from?’
She shrugged once more then thought better of her attitude and said gently, ‘Cardiff originally, but I was in care all over the place for most of me life.’
‘Train them well in care. I get a lot of you girls in and out.’
She smiled then, a friendly smile.
‘I need this start, Mr Martin, and I will literally work my arse off if you give me the chance.’
‘What about Pippy? He’s a poxy useless pimp, violent and arrogant. I don’t want him here causing fucking aggravation.’
‘He won’t be. Look, can I be straight with you?’
He nodded.
‘That will be a first but carry on, love.’
‘I picked this parlour because of Pippy. I know you have the required rep to keep him off me back while I work me trade. Last night he rolled another punter and I don’t work like that. I want to go on the trot but it’s hard when someone takes every penny you earn.’
He believed her, and finally felt sorry for her. He had seen girls in this position time and time again. Then he glanced at his watch. He was late and already fed up with the conversation and the company. Pippy wouldn’t come after him, he knew that much.
‘Start tonight, six prompt. You work till two, OK?’
‘Thank you, Mr Martin, you won’t regret it.’
‘I’d better not, love, or you’ll know about it.’
As they left the office Liz was happier than she had been in weeks and it showed. Jon Jon was waiting outside. He looked at the girl and smiled. She smiled back and Paulie noticed it was a real smile, not a punter smile. It made her look even younger and prettier than she was.
In the car he looked at Jon Jon and said caustically, ‘Fell in love, have we?’
Jon Jon didn’t answer him and Paulie laughed.
‘She’s been round the turf more times than Red Rum, son, and her current squeeze is mad Pippy Light so I wish you luck, Jon Jon - you are going to need it.’
Jon Jon just smiled.
He liked the girl and that was all that concerned him.
Chapter Eight
Kira felt ill, and she looked ill.
Like many before her she vowed she was never going to drink alcohol again. Her head was still pounding, and her thirst was way out of proportion. It was a week since the incident and she was still feeling the after effects. But more than anything she was missing Bethany. She knew that her mother and Monika were at war but was unable to understand why Bethany was now banned from here as well. She consoled herself with the thought that once she was back at school the row could be cleared up. At least, she hoped so. Her mother and Monika had never fallen out for so long before and she was getting worried.
As she lay on the sofa watching Coronation Street she looked small and vulnerable. Even Jeanette felt sorry for her. With her own problems forced to take second place for once, she made her sister cups of tea and generally fussed around her. Seeing her looking so ill had really brought home to Jeanette just how much she loved Kira. Yet the loyalty so abundant in the other members of the family still eluded her. She was on the verge of doing something so fundamentally wrong in the Brewers’ scheme of things that she should by rights be terrified even to think about it, let alone plan it.
Now that her mother was finally going back to work Jeanette had offered to take care of her sister, but with an ulterior motive. Jon Jon was watching her like a hawk so she was going to let him and Joanie think she was indoors with her sister when in reality she was going out to see Jasper. He was home now though still fragile.
It was two weeks since the attack and physically he was getting stronger by the hour. It was mentally that he was still weak. Jeanette was determined to see him. Tonight Karen was going up the pub with her mates, and Junie was going with her to keep watch and alert them if she was on her way home. Jasper was to all intents and purposes on his own. Though still ill, he had healed better than anyone could have hoped. The doctor had said he was always amazed by the resilience of the human body, and Jasper had made a marvellous recovery.
But he was different now; nervous, thin and gaunt. Jeanette felt that all that had happened to him was her fault. It was her brother who had attacked him, after all.
For that she hated Jon Jon with a vengeance even as she loved him. She knew that Jasper’s racism was at the heart of the bad feeling between the men, but even as she understood that, the pull of him made her disregard any lingering feelings of loyalty to her family she might have had. She wanted Jasper and that was enough for her.
They had been texting each other all afternoon and she was going to visit him if it was the last thing she did. Even if it meant doing something so outrageous, just knowing she was contemplating it frightened her. But she was going to do it, no matter what.
She watched Kira drink the last of her sweet tea and waited for her eyelids to droop. The sleeping pill should knock her out for the night. Her friend had told her that she gave them to her little daughter all the time so she could shoot out to take care of business, which meant in their speak to score drugs or work a while to pay for them.
The girl in question was even lower down the food chain than Jeanette’s own family. At nineteen she had a five year old and another child on the way. She was the Queen of her Maisonettes and all the young girls thought she was fabulous. She was a fount of wisdom on everything from sexual matters (give them what they want and you will get what you want) to school (don’t fucking go, no matter what they say or do, and eventually they will give you the hard word and leave you to your own devices). All good advice that had proved correct. Lorna was a popular girl.
And if her daughter had felt no side effects then Jeanette was willing to take the chance with her own sister. Plus, after what had just happened to Kira no one would think Jeanette would be stupid enough to leave her on her own. It was perfect. When they all came back she would be sitting on the sofa watching TV as if nothing untoward had happened.
Little Tommy deserved a night off, especially as he was washing and ironing all his father’s clothes ready for the big move. It had all worked out perfectly really, almost like fate was taking a hand.
Jon Jon was out scrumping a new bird from the parlour and her mother was out with Paulie - g
oing through the books, she said.
Jeanette smiled. That was the first time she had heard it called that before!
Lately he was never off the doorstep, and her mother was glowing with all the attention. In one way Jeanette was pleased for her; in another way she was waiting for the bombshell because she knew it would fall. Paulie would disappear like he always had before and then her mother would be left devastated again.
But, like Joanie, she was going to grab at her own chance of happiness while she could. Jasper was everything to her, and though she didn’t understand why this was, she accepted it as her mother had accepted the same feeling many years before.
Kira’s eyes were drooping now and Jeanette took the empty mug from her gently and placed it on the coffee table. Her excitement was such she felt as if she would burst with the prospect of seeing Jasper, of touching him, loving him.
Ten minutes later she took one last look at her little sister sleeping soundly and then slipped out of the front door.
Jon Jon was in lust and he knew it.
Liz Parker was like a magnet to him. Even as he despised her weaknesses, he loved the idea of having sex with her.
But once it was over, he wanted shot of her as fast as possible.
The fact she was a brass bothered him not one iota; he only wanted to fuck her, not commit to her for the rest of his life. Yet he went through the rigmarole of taking her out, and no matter how often he asked himself the question he could not understand the logic behind his own actions. He was part of Paulie Martin’s firm, and as such he had the pick of the brasses. It was a perk of the job. He wondered briefly if it was because of his mother. Could that be why he treated this girl with a respect she certainly did not deserve?
He didn’t know. All he knew was he wanted shot of her now, and he wanted shot of her quickly.
As she pulled on her knickers he said nonchalantly, ‘Is that the time? I better get going, I have to meet Paulie in twenty minutes.’
She didn’t answer him and he knew she knew he was lying. He slipped her a tenner for a cab, not for payment just transport fees, and then left the little flat near his home where she was renting a bed until she sorted herself out. He was going home to shower before starting work for the night. After he had been with her he always felt the urge to scrub himself clean.
That was another anomaly he was trying to work out in his head. He was giving her one three times a day. That meant three showers a day. He only hoped it would burn out with her soon so he could get back to normal.
Bethany was inside Joanie’s flat and staring at the doped-up girl on the sofa. She had opened the door with the key Joanie kept hidden in the coalhole that stood beside every flat’s front door. All the coalholes were used to store junk now, from old paint tins to empty beer bottles and Christmas decorations. Most people hid their spare keys in them somewhere and Joanie was no different. Bethany had only come in for a look round, she had not expected to see Kira on her own and asleep. Kira was never left alone, unlike Bethany of course who had brought herself up in the absence of anyone else to do the job.
She tried to wake her little friend and, failing to do so, helped herself to a few things, among them a ring from Joanie’s dressing table and fifty pounds in fivers from Jon Jon’s wardrobe. She left the flat as quietly as she’d entered it, unsure of what she was going to do with the money and the ring but pleased nevertheless that she had acquired them. Like her mother, she always had her eye on the main chance.
Paulie and Joanie were in a pub in Essex. They had ordered a bar meal and were chatting together about the parlour. He was glad she was on her way back to work because he was getting fed up with policing the place himself. The girls were nervous of him for a start, which was how it should be, of course. But it didn’t make for a good atmosphere in the place itself. Plus he was a great believer in the old adage, you don’t have a dog and bark yourself. As he privately and sometimes publicly referred to his girls as dogs, he thought it was rather fitting.
He was loath to put anyone else in because it would have caused ructions when Joanie returned. Once a girl had a taste of power it sent her off her head, and as most of them already were off their heads it did not make matters any easier.
Lazy Caroline was due back at work this week as well, after her sojourn in the Greek Islands with a young girl she’d flipped her lid for. He shrugged; it took all sorts, he supposed.
But Joanie was looking so well these days even with all the aggravation she had had. He still wanted her, and for him still to want someone after all this time both amazed and worried him.
He suspected he was getting old. The younger girls these days were determined to give the blokes a good time and pulled out all the stops to ensure they had one. It was bloody wearing at times, especially when a quick dip and a cuddle were his only real requirements. If he wanted sexual gymnastics he would go Up West and pay for them. But the younger brasses all wanted just the one man to shag and would do anything to achieve that end.
It was like being caught in a blue film and he was long past all that poncing around, plus he knew they didn’t really enjoy it, why would they? He was just a means to an end to them.
He was a face and he had a few quid - he was like the Mirror pension scheme to them when all he wanted was a quick fuck and a goodbye. Was that too much to ask?
He watched Joanie tuck into her steak and chips. She ate nicely did old Joanie, and he saw the looks she was getting from the other men in the bar. She was oblivious to them and for some reason this pleased him.
She was looking well enough, old Joanie, he couldn’t take that away from her. Still, they were supposed to be talking business so they did. He could see how much she was enjoying herself, and watched as the lines of strain gradually left her face. She had had to put up with a lot over the last few weeks and had as usual handled it far better than most people would have done.
She was a survivor was Joanie, and in his heart of hearts he knew that it was just as well. Her life could not have been lived by anyone else. At least not as well as she had lived it.
Later he was going to take her in the car. He liked doing it in the back of a car; it was cramped but it made for a laugh.
And one thing he would give old Joanie: she was always game for a laugh.
She had had to be.
Jean Best was knocking on the door of Joanie’s flat when Jon Jon walked up the stairs. She was small, dark, and obviously not from the flats.
He smiled at her disarmingly.
‘Can I help you?’
Jean smiled back at this polite young man and said casually, ‘I am looking for a Ms Brewer, Joan Brewer?’
Jon Jon nodded.
‘That’s my mother. I’m afraid she’s out. Will I do?’ One part of his mind was registering the fact that she was obviously here on some kind of mission, the other half was eyeing the folder underneath her arm. She was Social Services or probation, there was no doubt about that.
He opened the door with his key and invited her inside. He assumed Jeanette hadn’t answered the door to this unknown woman and was pleased with her acumen for once.
‘This is purely a routine follow-up after your sister’s little mishap recently.’
Jean Best was marking her territory and he appreciated that. She was telling him in a nice way that she was only here to observe that his sister was OK and then she would be off. Her voice was soothing and sounded friendly enough to Jon Jon to be believable.
As they walked into the lounge the smile was wiped from both their faces. Kira had rolled over in her sleep and was lying at a crooked angle on the floor. She had taken the contents of the coffee table with her when she had fallen and it was obvious to anyone that this child was out for the count.
Jean Best saw the look of shock on the boy’s face and knew it was mirrored on her own.
‘Jeanette?’
The boy was hollering out the name as he picked his sister up from the floor. She opened one eye and immed
iately closed it. It was obvious she had been given or had taken something to make her sleep.
‘What is going on here?’
Jean Best’s voice was different now, the authority of years coming to the fore. Jon Jon, nonplussed for once in his life, didn’t answer her. All he could see was how it looked, and he wanted to know where his sister Jeanette was and he wanted to know now.
He stood up and looked at the woman before him. Her face was set and her eyes were like flint. Even her thinning brown hair bristled. She was bending over Kira, taking her pulse and feeling her forehead. The girl slept on through her ministrations.
Jon Jon, taking a decision, asked the woman to leave, explaining that his other sister should have been here with Kira and that he would ascertain where she had got to. It was probable she had gone to look for him, but he made it plain to the social worker that he had only been gone twenty minutes. He knew she didn’t believe him but he also knew she would have trouble proving otherwise.
