Deceit

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Deceit Page 6

by KERRY BARNES


  Colette really laughed at that, and then she winked. ‘You can join in, if ya fancy a bit?’ She stood up and ran a finger along Kara’s uninjured cheek.

  With her stomach now in knots, Kara instantly grabbed Colette’s wrist. ‘You can hit me, Cole, but don’t touch me.’ Surprised that those words had left her mouth, she swallowed hard and winced, awaiting the backlash. However, Colette didn’t see the fear behind those words. All she saw was a flash of fury, which took her by surprise.

  ‘So, I ain’t ya type, then, Posh? Not good enough for ya, eh?’ Her voice was climbing several levels, and Kara felt drained by being on edge all the time. She had to think quickly; backing Colette into a corner would not be clever. ‘Look, Cole, it’s apparent that Dora’ – she pointed to the angry-looking woman still sitting on the bed – ‘is your type, and you have a thing going. I wouldn’t like someone to take what’s mine, and my neighbour did just that, so do you understand where I’m coming from?’

  Colette’s eyes flicked from left to right, trying to take in the message. It took a couple of seconds for her to process the intent behind Kara’s question before she dropped her guard and sat back down. Colette was not totally stupid, not by a long stretch. She realised that Kara had given her a way out, a face-saver. ‘I get ya, Posh, I get ya. You are the faithful type. So, did ya do the neighbour ’cos she was muscling in on ya ol’ man, then?’

  Kara wondered if she could adopt an alter ego. She realised she would have to continue with the lie just to give herself some creds, if she was to survive. Telling lies wasn’t her thing, and yet being in the slammer certainly wasn’t either. ‘Yes, Cole, I burned the house down and tried to kill the bitch.’ She tried to sound cold and hard, but in her mind, she knew she probably sounded pathetic. Truthfully, even saying those words made her feel ill. Mrs Langley was a sweet woman who never deserved what happened, and worse, Kara was using the incident to save her own skin by coming across as hard and uncaring. Who the hell was she turning into? This wasn’t who she was.

  However, Colette was uneasy because Kara wasn’t jumping about swearing and re-enacting the crime; there was a coldness to the woman’s tone and manner. Through long experience of prison and life, she wondered if Kara was really a nutter behind that angelic façade.

  ‘Was ya ol’ man a bit of a dish, then, was he?’ asked Dora, raising her eyebrows and licking her lips.

  Gritting her teeth, Kara wanted to cry again. Of course, he was a dish; he was everything she ever wanted in a man, but he’d abandoned her, ripped her heart out, and left her in prison to rot.

  ‘He was a class-one bastard!’ she snapped.

  ‘All fucking men are bastards; it’s in their make-up. ’Orrible wankers, they are. Always after ya fanny or wanting their shitty pants washed. They’re no good to us women, let me tell ya. Me ol’ man ruined me muvver, then he fucked off, leaving her without a pot to piss in and me to bring up. I know how to treat men, though, just as they treat us. I use them for a free ride on their cock, get ’em to buy me a few bits and pieces, and then fuck ’em off.’ She looked Kara up and down and sighed. ‘I guess you ain’t learned the rules yet, ’ave ya? I suppose he sucked you in, got what he wanted, and then he spat ya out, moving on to the next unsuspecting bitch?’

  Kara wanted to say, ‘No, it wasn’t like that at all. He loved me and never used me,’ but then, in this new environment, she would look a right idiot. ‘Oh, I knew the rules. It’s just a shame that my neighbour didn’t,’ she replied, with a smirk, even believing her own slander now. Nevertheless, it was easier than admitting the truth. It was her way of escaping the reality of the situation.

  At once, the tension seemed to ease, and Dora, now looking more relaxed, giggled. ‘No flies on you, gal.’

  Colette joined in and smiled. ‘I bet the bitch knows now, though, eh? With a face like Freddy Krueger, she won’t be messing with no woman’s man again. Who would want her now?’ She slapped her thigh and laughed even louder.

  Kara was feeling nauseous. That poor woman. What if she really was scarred … and worse, what if she was dead? Kara resignedly sat on the bed, her legs weak and wobbly, and yet Dora and Colette took it as if she was joining in with them and having a laugh at the neighbour’s expense.

  The inmates’ levity was cut short by the appearance of a large woman, with jet-black hair half up and half down and a deep jagged scar across her forehead, standing in the doorway. Kara smiled but was sneered at. The woman was in her late thirties, good-looking and yet hard-faced. She had on the prison issues, a green tracksuit, but her sleeves were rolled up showing her tattoos. ‘Cole, I want some gear!’

  Kara watched the dynamics. Dora had her head down, and Colette jumped to her feet, flustered. ‘Er, Vic, I ’ave only got a bit of puff.’

  Victoria Meadows, commonly known as Big Vic, was obviously someone with clout. She exuded confidence and her demeanour said, ‘Don’t fuck with me’. She was scratching her neck, and as Kara’s eyes followed her hand, she could see the raised swirls of red inflamed skin.

  ‘I need something now, Cole. You’d better call on everyone on the wing, or I’ll be smashing a few heads in.’ Her beady dark eyes glared at Colette, who was clearly shitting herself.

  ‘What do ya need, then, Vic?’

  ‘I need anything that’s gonna stop this fucking itching, something to knock me out, and I don’t care what it is, meth, brown stuff, or puff!’

  Kara bravely stood up and stepped towards the woman.

  Vic stepped back with her forehead creased. ‘What are you fucking looking at?’

  ‘The rash on your neck,’ replied Kara, totally unfazed by the woman’s harshness.

  ‘Go fuck yaself.’ She turned to face Colette. ‘Who’s this fucking numpty?’

  Colette was still uneasy. ‘Er … that’s Posh. She’s in with me. Tried to kill the neighbour who was sniffing around her ol’ man. She burned the fucking house down.’

  ‘You got any gear, Posh, or are you just another waste of space?’

  ‘I don’t have any gear, but I can tell you what’s wrong with you.’

  In a flash, Vic snatched Kara by the hair, bending her back. ‘You can tell me about meself, yeah? Ya cheeky fucking whore. I run this wing, so you’d better know ya fucking place, or I’ll show ya!’

  Kara then realised what she’d said had been taken the wrong way. ‘No, I mean your neck. I know why it’s inflamed.’

  Vic dropped her like a hot brick and glared at Colette and Dora. ‘Get out!’ she hollered. Instantly, the two women darted out of the cell. Vic then closed the door behind them and glared at Kara. ‘Oh yeah, some kinda doc, are ya?’

  Kara looked at Vic unblinkingly and nodded. ‘Yes, sort of.’

  As Vic sat down on the bed, Kara noticed the woman’s demeanour soften. ‘So ya know what this is?’ She lifted her baggy green tracksuit top revealing swirls of raised red circles covering her chest.

  Leaning forward, Kara ran her finger over the inflammation. ‘Does that irritate you?’

  Vic was like a patient in a surgery. ‘Yeah.’ Slowly, she rolled her top back down.

  ‘What did the doctor give you for it?’

  ‘That ol’ cunt said it was a heat rash. Four weeks I’ve had this, and it’s getting worse. The blind ol’ fucker, I could smash him round the ’ead. So, what is it?’

  ‘It’s a fungal skin infection.’

  ‘What!’ screeched Vic. ‘You better be joking! You mean, I have a fucking fungus growing on me skin?’

  Kara knew it would make anyone feel ill, imagining a fungus growing over their body. ‘Yes, but don’t worry, it’s easily cured. I promise you, all you need is an antifungal cream. You know, like athlete’s foot or thrush?’

  With wide eyes, Vic slowly nodded. ‘Yeah? So, that’s all I need, just that cream?’

  With a compassionate smile, Kara replied, ‘Yes, that’s all you need, and within a couple of days, it will be gone. Try not to scratch it and keep it cool for now.�
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  ‘Right, I’m going back to tell that idiot fucking doctor. I swear if he don’t give me that cream, I’ll smash the living shit out of him.’ She jumped up and went to walk away, but then she turned back. ‘Er, listen, this is between me and you, yeah?’

  Kara nodded. ‘Of course. Oh, by the way, my name is Kara. Cole just calls me Posh.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you are posh. Everyone calls me Vic or Big Vic … Er … if ya need anything, give me a nod, yeah? But you’d better be right. I don’t take too kindly to being mugged off.’

  With a warm smile, Kara nodded again. She had got the picture loud and clear. It was going to be a testing time. She had to prove her worth and use everything she had, if she was going to survive. She lowered her eyes and sighed. If she believed in God, she would pray that she hadn’t got the diagnosis wrong. Then the muscles in her jaw relaxed. If she had got it right, then perhaps she would have a friend on her side.

  At that moment, Colette and Dora hurried back in. ‘So, what did she say?’ asked Colette, looking flushed.

  ‘Nothing much. It was personal, really.’

  With a deep laugh, Colette went on, ‘Personal, there’s no such thing in ’ere. Anyway, no matter, whatever you said, ya got her off my back.’

  Perhaps she was making headway at last for a peaceful life.

  Chapter 4

  The sun was just starting to rise. While Lucy was in the shower, full of the joys of spring, Justin sat on the end of the bed, with his hands cupping his tired face. It had been a long night, a stressful one, and he felt like shit. He’d rolled on his side just to avoid any affectionate contact and had found himself almost hanging off the bed most of the night. He took a deep breath. What the hell am I doing? I don’t even know her. It’s all madness.

  Lucy obviously hadn’t taken the hint, as she casually walked into the bedroom from the bathroom completely naked. He’d looked up and thought about Kara. She was never so provocative, more sweet and shy. He was always the one doing the running, making the first move, but he liked it that way, not having it handed to him on a plate. Something about Lucy’s body made him blink. He thought perhaps his longing for Kara had messed with his mind because Lucy’s figure with her neatly shaped breasts and slim thighs was almost identical. He looked away.

  ‘Justin, please don’t tell me you don’t find me attractive, not after you were all over me before.’

  Even her higher-pitched voice was irritating him; so much so, that he stood up from the bed and reached down to pick up his bag. ‘Lucy, I know that I slept with you and we’re having a baby, but it doesn’t feel right that I should live here as if we’ve been dating for years. We don’t know each other all that well, and so to play the happy family game right away doesn’t sit comfortably with me. Surely, you understand?’ He looked at her with his face half turned away, but it was definitely not easy, with her standing there naked. ‘I think for now I’ll stay elsewhere until I can figure this out. I don’t intend to shirk my responsibilities, but I need time. You do realise that, don’t you?’

  Lucy felt like a schoolgirl. The way he pronounced his words – with no trace of an accent or slang – he bordered on being posh. She wasn’t used to it, and she felt a little intimidated. She wouldn’t be put off, though; his looks and money more than compensated for his more genteel and less manly ways.

  ‘Don’t be like that. Look, Justin, if you want to sleep in the spare room, then do that. Christ, all those things you said to me, I guess you never meant them, eh?’

  ‘What things?’ he snapped.

  ‘That you really liked me a lot, how you wished you were with me, and how things would be so different. Well, Justin, you have me now and a baby on the way. For fuck’s sake, she burned our … sorry, I mean your bloody house down and nearly killed the neighbour. Seriously, you aren’t telling me you’re having second thoughts, are you?’ She began to snivel and left the room.

  It was bizarre. One minute, he was in his perfect world with Kara, where they shared his lovely home and enjoyed a comfortable lifestyle, with a deep sense of closeness between them, and now he was facing a life with Kara in jail and Lucy swanning around like she’d been with him for years. What the hell was he doing? Was being a father so important that he was blinded by the notion? He thought back to his childhood, and yes, he longed to have his father in his life, but could he really sacrifice Kara for this unborn child and Lucy? Who the hell was she, anyway? He knew absolutely nothing about her.

  Still gripping his bag, he sighed. Perhaps he’d gone too far. ‘Lucy!’ he called out. She didn’t answer, so he wandered to the bathroom to find her sitting on the edge of the bath sobbing. She looked vulnerable and very different from a few minutes ago. With a towel wrapped around her, she whispered, ‘I’m so sorry, Justin, I guess you’re right. This is all too soon. I never knew I could get pregnant. The doctors said I couldn’t. I would never have put you in this situation, but you did say how much you liked me, and when you came back here for the second time, I assumed I wasn’t just a one-night stand. But it’s okay. I understand. You never really did like me.’

  She wiped the tears away and pulled the towel tighter around herself. ‘You’re a good man, Justin, and I will admit I fell in love with you the first time I met you, and so having your baby is not a heartache for me. I just hope he or she grows up to be just like you. But, I promise you, I’ll be a good mum, so never worry about that. I’m just sorry you don’t feel the same way about me. I’m not Kara, and well, I couldn’t possibly be. I grew up in a foster home, a few actually, so I’m a bit wilder, I suppose. I can’t take her place, and so it’s best that you go and forget you ever met me.’

  With a heavy sigh, Justin placed the bag on the floor. ‘It’s not you, Lucy – you’re probably a lovely person. It’s just so soon. We don’t even know each other, and I wish you wouldn’t act like we have done so for years. I feel suffocated.’

  ‘I only wanted it to be nice for you. I didn’t want you to feel awkward. Perhaps I wanted too much.’ Her voice was softer and gentle, and it tugged on his heartstrings. It wasn’t Lucy’s fault. After all, the only person who had caused all this mess was him. He needed to man up. Only he could put it right. He had played away from home and got this woman pregnant. He couldn’t bring himself to mess up two women’s lives.

  ‘Why she had to burn the house down, I don’t know. She could have stayed there. I suppose, she really hated me for what I did.’

  Lucy looked away. ‘Babe, she did something terrible. The neighbour is in hospital, fighting for her life. That could have been you. Kara isn’t the person you think she is.’

  Justin chewed the inside of his mouth, going over Lucy’s words in his mind. Perhaps she was right. Maybe Kara did have a vindictive side to her. ‘Okay, I’ll stay in the spare room, and we’ll see if we can work this out. I’m not ready for a full-blown relationship, so give me some time, eh?’

  With an obliged, compassionate smile, Lucy nodded. ‘I understand, love, and I’ll back off, although it will be hard, because I do love you, Justin.’ She paused, as if wondering if she sounded convincing.

  Those words kept repeating themselves in his mind. Still numb and racked with guilt and grief, he made his way into the spare room. It was little more than a box room, with just a single bed, one pine wardrobe, and a bedside table. The window looked out over the row of houses opposite, and as he stared, he shuddered.

  This was worlds apart. His house was in a close and the property opposite was so far away, that he never felt hemmed in. Lucy’s flat was in what was once a large house with three floors. The property was now split into two flats. The basement flat that was accessible from the side door to the building was on one level, whereas Lucy’s flat had an upstairs as well as a downstairs floor. There were two separate entrances, but the back garden was only available to the basement flat. At least it was kept very neat and tidy by the old lady who lived there.

  * * *

  Lucy smiled to herself.
She had to keep him there, close to her, and work on him. Acting as if they had been together for years wasn’t working, so she would have to change tactics. But she noted how he responded to her when she appeared needy. She would have to put on a first-class act, although she shouldn’t denigrate her acting skills. They’d made her what she was today. They had been honed to a fine art, and she knew she was good at disguising her true inner self.

  She believed she’d been dealt the shitty hand, being left with her father, while her mother upped sticks and got on with her life, leaving her behind to live with a bastard of a man. She didn’t care what anyone said. Even the shrink, Julien Spinks, with his stupid ideas that she had an unhealthy vivid imagination. What did he know, anyway? As far as she was concerned, her father was a short-tempered, evil bastard.

  The tears she’d put on for Justin, though, were fake. As she recalled it, all her life, no matter how much she cried, she was told to stop snivelling, don’t be a baby, and grow the fuck up. Her recollection from the age of six was that she’d had to cook, clean, and pander to her father’s needs or suffer a violent backhander. The freezing cold bath or the metal cabinet were two of his favourite forms of retribution, although no one believed her. She vaguely recalled being locked away overnight, unable to sit down because the space was too small, and standing in the dark, desperately hoping that he would let her out soon, feeling the cold walls and hearing the rustling of rats outside and the scurrying of spiders.

  Then, there was her father’s face when he opened the cabinet, and her blinking furiously with the bright light and the silhouette of his big frame and thick neck. ‘Have ya learned ya lesson, then? Now, will you stop telling lies?’ he would bellow.

  Lucy remembered a woman from the social services, called Rhonda, a big black woman, smiling sweetly at her father and then tutting at her, shaking her head, and with those condescending words, saying, ‘Now, now, Lucy, this has to stop. You have to attend your weekly appointments with Dr Spinks and take your tablets every morning.’ But they had her all wrong – even Dr Philippa Shelby, her GP, the condescending bitch, with her curt words and sharp tongue, telling her that without the medication, she would be sent to a home.

 

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