Deceit

by KERRY BARNES

  Julie stared at Kara in disbelief, never imagining that the girl would even swear let alone be so brazen and hard-faced against the nastiest screw of all. They hurried inside their cell, and as soon as all three were in, they closed the door. Julie slumped on the bed with her hands over her face. ‘Is Vic gonna die, Posh?’

  Before Kara could answer, Deni piped up, ‘Listen to me, Julie, your sister is one hard bitch. She will fight for her life. If anyone can, she can, and I’ll tell ya this for nothing. If it weren’t for Kara, she would never have stood a chance. I swear to God, the girl’s an angel.’

  Julie removed her hands from her tear-stained face and snivelled. ‘Oh my God, if she dies … well, I can’t even imagine it. She’s like a mum to us. Me own mum’s a fucking waste of space. It was our Vic that brought us up. She can’t die, it won’t be fair.’

  Kara noticed for the first time how Julie, who she thought was a really tough cookie, had become so vulnerable, hunched up with her lips drooping and her eyes full of sadness. ‘She will be okay. The paramedics got here fast enough. She was still conscious. I think she’ll be fine.’

  That evening, the three women shared the cell. Deni lay on Julie’s bed whilst Kara and Julie shared the other one. As Kara lay there with Julie’s arm over her belly, she felt a comfort and warm feeling. And she also felt something else – being part of a family.

  Chapter 10

  The excitable noises, as the cells were unlocked, woke up the three inmates. Deni stretched, farted, and then giggled. ‘Aw, excuse me.’

  Julie yawned and cupped her hands over her mouth to smell her own foul breath. ‘Jesus, I stink.’

  Kara was now sitting at the end of the bed, trying to open her heavy eyelids, still tired from talking until three in the morning. When she did finally fall asleep, that creepy Chucky voice, taunting her about Justin, weaved its way into her dreams. She shook the aftermath of the nightmare away from her thoughts. ‘I wonder if there’s any news about Vic? Surely, one of the officers would let us know?’

  ‘You’ll be bleedin’ lucky. We’ll be the last to know, especially if it’s left down to ol’ ginger minge, Barbara, to inform us. Now, see, there’s one sick, evil bitch, if ever there was one.’

  Kara noticed the discriminating veil that cloaked Deni’s face. ‘You hate her, don’t you, Deni?’

  ‘Yeah, babe, I do, and talking of that streak of piss, you be careful, Kara, because she will be after you. Maybe not now, but she’ll find a way of harming you. I don’t mean physically, either.’

  What could hurt her any more now? She had nothing, no one, and her future was looking pretty bleak. So what else could Barbara take from her?

  Just as they were about to get up and get showered, the door opened, and there in the doorway, almost touching the frame, stood George. Like three schoolgirls, they stood to attention. He very rarely came on to the wings, usually pen-pushing. He nodded at them to relax and entered, closing the door behind him.

  ‘Are you ladies okay this morning?’

  Julie burst into tears, fearing the worst. ‘Oh my God, she’s dead, ain’t she?’

  Quickly, he shook his head. ‘No, no, Julie, she’s fine. Well, she’s not fine, but she had a blood transfusion, so they are keeping her in until tonight, but she’s going to live.’

  The relief was palpable. Her shoulders slumped, as if all the worry had been lifting her up, tightening her muscles. She let out a sigh, mixed with a giggle. ‘Oh, thank God!’

  George unexpectedly sat on a bed; it was unknown for an officer to do such a thing. ‘No, not God, you need to thank Kara. Apparently, the doctor at the hospital said if she hadn’t acted so quickly, then Victoria would most certainly have died.’

  Kara bowed her head, not used to being praised or held on any pedestal.

  ‘So, the reason I’m here is because Victoria’s incident was attempted murder and I want the culprit named.’ He held up his hands, before they said anything. ‘And, Denise, if you are about to tell me you have no idea, then I’m assuming you will want to seek retribution in your own fashion. Let me tell you categorically, you will be arrested, any of you, if you do.’

  Deni stood with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face. ‘Seriously, we don’t know who did it. We just heard a commotion, and Kara, here, ran down the stairs and helped Vic, stopping all that blood. I followed her and pressed the alarm button, but we never saw who did it.’

  George gave her a gentle smile. ‘That, Denise, may well be the case, but you will do by the end of the day. I will bet my last tenner on it.’ He looked at Kara. ‘And I will also bet it was the same person who did that to your face. So, just to warn you, we are keeping a close eye. If you want to talk, it will naturally be confidential, and action will be taken to arrest the inmate.’

  They all looked at each other and then back at George, but he knew they wouldn’t grass. They were after Esme’s blood. He knew full well it was her, and yet without a witness, his hands were tied.

  He closed the door behind him, and Deni checked to see he was out of earshot. ‘That bitch Esme starts a war at every prison she ends up in. Still, when she met Big Vic a few years ago, she met her match.’ She sniggered. ‘I wouldn’t want to have gone a few rounds with Vic when I was her age, I’ll tell ya that for nuffin. Esme did, though. She wanted to run the nick. What a slag. She stabbed Vic on the sly, but she came a cropper. Vic don’t go down too easily. I’m gonna kill that Esme, I am. She’s a no-good wrong ’un. Besides, what have I got to lose?’

  There was silence, as the three of them pondered over the idea. Kara then spoke up. ‘You can kill her without stabbing her, or even getting caught, you know.’

  With eyes round like saucers, Deni stared, trying to fathom what Kara was proposing. ‘Tell us, Kara.’

  ‘Well, it can’t be done right away. I have to grow some bugs first.’

  Julie laughed. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, Posh, this is a prison not a lab. How are ya gonna grow bugs?’

  ‘I don’t need a lab, I need a kitchen, and we have all the bugs we want right under our noses. Deni, you work in the prep area. Are the chickens frozen?’

  With a huge grin, Deni replied, ‘Yep, proper shit pieces too, with fucking feathers and claws still on ’em.’

  ‘Have you got an area that’s hidden but warm?’

  Nodding, Deni laughed. ‘Are you thinking of that Sam and ella bug?’

  Kara laughed out loud. ‘Salmonella, you mean. No, I’m not. I’m talking about another bug that can kill. Campylobacter found on chicken skin is deadlier.’

  Both Julie and Deni stared in astonishment, but Deni assumed Kara was getting carried away with the idea of revenge. She flicked her eyes across at Kara’s face, nibbling her bottom lip. ‘Right, listen, let’s not talk about this anymore, babe.’

  With her nose screwed up, Kara asked, ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well, because, my darlin’, you ain’t like me. You’re good, kinda wholesome, whereas me, well, I’m used to this. I have lived my life by the skin of me teeth, done many a thing I ain’t proud of, and I do still ’ave nightmares. I still get this sickly feeling when I have flashbacks, and I will do ’til the day I’m pushing up daisies, but you won’t, not if I can help it. So, let’s leave this idea of poisoning alone. If the nasty bitch gets mullered, then it won’t ever be on your conscience.’

  ‘’Ere, hold on a minute, Deni, Kara don’t ’ave ta poison anyone. She can tell us how to do it. I might poison ol’ Billy Big Bollocks when I get out.’ Julie’s eyes were alive and eager. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she urged Kara to go on, but Deni stood up. ‘No!’ She gave Julie a glare that said, ‘Don’t push it’.

  Julie lowered her head. ‘Sorry, yeah, you’re right. If Esme died of poisoning, and you told us how to do it, I guess it’s like giving us a loaded gun, eh?’

  ‘I guess you’re right. But she did try to kill my baby. It was her, you know …’ She paused, as she thought carefully what she wanted to say next. �
�I appreciate what you are trying to do, Deni, but I have changed a lot. Trust me, when I say, life is not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s a bag of shit, really, and I only have this baby to look out for. Esme nearly killed her. She tried to murder her, so listen to me, and what you do after I give you the information is up to you.’

  Deni was taken aback and sighed. ‘Go on, then.’

  ‘Right, campylobacter can be deadly. As I said, it grows on the skin of chickens. If you don’t cook chicken properly, you suffer from the bacteria poisoning. It will initially cause gastroenteritis, and then, if it’s not diagnosed properly, it will get into the bloodstream and can be fatal.’

  ‘But all the chicken is cooked almost dry, so there’s not much chance of poisoning.’

  A crafty smirk crossed Kara’s face. ‘You’re right, but who said it has to be undercooked chicken? No, it has to come from chicken, well, that’s the easiest contaminant, but it doesn’t have to be served as chicken. So, all you need is a piece of chicken with the skin on, frozen if possible. Keep it in a sealed bag, so the fluids don’t leak out, and in a warm place for a couple of days, and then remove the liquid. As long as you don’t heat the liquid, it should contain enough campylobacter and salmonella to kill her off. If she doesn’t get to the quack in time, and if he is as useless as you all say, then he won’t recognise the symptoms and will just assume it’s a common bug. By the time it’s in her system, she should be dead. There are a few ifs. I mean, if the bug has grown enough to contaminate and if it attacks her body. You see, some of us can naturally fight it off.’

  She suddenly regretted what she’d said. Of course, she couldn’t kill Esme; her baby was unharmed and she herself was only bruised.

  ‘Yin and yang!’ said Deni, to everyone’s puzzlement. She smiled. ‘Yeah, like good and bad. See, Dr Posh, here, can heal and can kill. If you can save someone, you can take them out. Power of knowledge, see. Our Kara is more dangerous than any of these silly tarts in ’ere.’ She stood up, walked to the small cabinet, and held up her cup. ‘Reminds me, I think I best make me own tea. Never know if I’ve upset ya. Don’t wanna get poisoned.’ She was joking, but now the thoughts of millions of tiny bugs eating away at her insides caused her to shiver. ‘Let’s not do anything until Vic gets back. I know we are all assuming it’s Esme, but what if it isn’t?’

  Deni looked at Kara surreptitiously and felt an odd sensation. It was all very well jesting but in that joke was the truth. It concerned her, though, how Kara had changed. A few months ago, the girl would never have talked about murder and certainly wouldn’t have given them a hypothetical loaded gun.

  Julie was still thinking about poisoning Billy, her sister Sharon, and anyone else who had pissed her off. ‘It must have been Esme. What other retarded bitch would attempt a stunt like that?’ spat Julie, still thinking about her Vic and how awful it would have been if she’d died.

  Vic was the eldest sister and had been put in the care system for five years until their mother began breeding again. Then she was taken out and put back into the growing family. She was basically her mother’s skivvy: fetching and carrying, babysitting, cooking, and cleaning. Marsha, their mother, was partial to a bottle of vodka and a man. It could be any man, as long as he could bung her a few quid, give her a quick shag, and hand her a litre of the hard stuff.

  Vic learned from a young age to look after herself; she could fight because needs must. The school had said to her mother that she was particularly good at sports and could run faster than the school record held by a boy. Having won all the inter-school races locally and having competed at county level, Vic had been further encouraged by the school to take part in the English Schools’ Athletics Championships, something that every young athlete aspired to.

  But Marsha told the school to forget that idea. She wasn’t having her girl taking two days off to travel up to Gateshead International Stadium to take part in some snobs’ event, when she was needed at home. It was a travesty, but Vic was powerless where her mother was concerned. The reason for Vic being able to run so fast was because the security guard at Tesco was a sprinter himself, and she had no choice but to be able to have it on her toes in record time.

  As young as thirteen, she’d learned to fight men to save herself, including the dirty perverted men her mother brought home. It wasn’t surprising because Vic turned heads – tall, olive-skinned, and with long black hair, she was a looker, but her eyes were cold. It was through no fault of her own; it was just her lifestyle that made her appear so hard-faced. Julie, like the other sisters, looked up to Vic because she fought all their fights; she made sure they didn’t go hungry and ensured they were warm in their beds at night.

  Bringing up six children with not a pot to piss in should have run Marsha ragged, and if it was all down to her, it would have been like herding cats, but it wasn’t. Vic took control because she had no choice: turning her back on her siblings wasn’t an option. The younger ones, Sharon, Angie, Julie, and Teddy were all just a year apart. But Vic was seven years their senior, and Rocky, as they nicknamed him, because he looked like a very young Sylvester Stallone, was the eldest brother, a year younger than her. He was her sidekick, but he got off the estate as soon as he turned sixteen, with his own pad, a few quid in his back pocket, and a name for himself.

  Vic and Rocky were close; they’d always had each other’s backs. He respected her because she in effect became the de facto matriarch of the family and saw his kid brother and sisters were all right. Every Friday afternoon, he called in and handed her money, a new bit of clobber, or any other knock-offs. The freezer was always full of stolen Waitrose steaks, so although he left the nest, he still cared for them in his own way.

  When the kids grew up and left home, Rocky was the man who looked out for them. Even Billy was shit-scared to look the wrong way, if he was around. Julie would use her brother’s name to threaten him, if he got too handy; it was a sure move to make Billy reel his neck in.

  ‘I think I’d better tell me brother Rocky what’s been going on,’ said Julie, out of the blue. She had been thinking about him for a while and was worried how he would take the fact that she’d stabbed Sharon. She never wanted to upset him, not because she was afraid of him, but because he’d earned her respect.

  ‘Oh, don’t do that, love. Wait until Vic gets back. He will want to know that she’s all right,’ replied Deni, shaking her head.

  ‘No, I was thinking that ol’ shit-legs Sharon will turn him against me, playing the fucking victim. ’Cos, I bet she ain’t told him that I called her and said I was sorry. I mean, I was angry, but maybe I shouldn’t have stabbed her in the leg. Christ, I could have killed her, like Vic could have been. I never knew it could be that dangerous.’ She bit her nails, as if she were starving, but it was just the nerves.

  The morning brought with it gossip, accusations, and a hive of excitable inmates acting like a brood of clucking chickens. All three women went about their daily business, with a lot on their minds. Kara mulled over everything. Her main focus was on leaving another message for her mother.

  * * *

  Gripping the toilet basin amid gasping mouthfuls of air, Lucy tried hard to stop the next wave of puke spewing through her nose and burning the back of her throat. She gasped again and cursed aloud. ‘Fucking bollocks!’ It was apparent that she’d gone too far with the whole pregnancy thing. She never wanted a screaming brat and certainly never remembered pregnancy being so bloody awful. The sickness, the tiredness, and the early signs of stretch marks that slithered across her hips didn’t help either. She should have terminated this one too, along with the other five.

  In fact, it should never have happened, according to her doctor. How she had ended up pregnant was a mystery; the doctor told her after her fifth abortion and the umpteenth morning-after pill that she wouldn’t be able to have children. At the time, it was a relief because she really was sick of going through the motions of terminations. The last one made her ill and the pain was unbearable
, but she assumed it was because she was so far gone. The contraceptive pill was not an option as it made her fat, condoms slipped off, and the coil gave her cramps.

  She had Justin, her man now, and with the new home – once it was rebuilt – a baby, and a new, respectable, and clean life, where her husband brought home the bacon, she could live like any decent, upstanding member of society – like fucking Kara, in fact.

  A smirk adorned her pale sickly face. Kara was no upstanding citizen; she was a jailbird, a homeless, loveless convict. Justin would never want Kara again, not after a few years in prison. Prison would rip the niceness right out of her; she knew that only too well herself. Not that she’d spent years inside, but a short three-month sentence gave her an inside seat as to what it would hold for someone like Kara.

  Lucy could deal with prison; it was nothing to her. Carl sent her money and a few grams of Charlie to stuff up her crotch. Her little supply had some of the hardest inmates eating out of her hand. Not that she couldn’t handle herself; she was as tough as old boots and brutal as the other prisoners. She’d learned to stick up for herself from the age of seventeen – against men, not women.

  Easing herself away from the cold bathroom floor, she hauled herself up and washed her face with the cold running water from the new modern single tap. Slowly, she stood upright and glared at the face in the mirror; the brown rings under her eyes and an unsightly puffiness had spread across her nose and cheeks. Pregnancy was not good for her looks. She appeared older, much older; the seventeen-year-old with round fresh eyes and an innocence about them had gone.

  She shouldn’t be surprised though; life had dealt her that wicked hand, what with a father who didn’t give a shit and Carl who she thought back then cared but clearly didn’t. Of course, he never cared; he was a selfish, evil, arrogant bastard, yet for some reason, maybe familiarity, she still went running back to him. It was a strange relationship … but needs must when the devil drives. Perhaps she still clung on to the past, when he’d made her feel alive, special, and loved. Then again, was it really love, and was he even capable of loving anyone but himself?