by Jessie Keane
Shauna was breathing hard. ‘What the hell have you come back here for, if not to see that little twat?’
‘All right! I came back to talk to her.’ Josh turned haunted eyes toward her. ‘I thought she’d be calmed down by now, that she’d reconsider. But Claire’s missing. I just talked to the muskra and he told me.’
‘What?’ Shauna, eyes averted, started pacing up and down beside the car. ‘What do you mean, missing?’
‘As in, gone. Vanished. That ain’t like Claire. You know it.’
Shauna stopped walking and shook her head. She was furious and offended. He’d fucked her overnight and then come back for the one he truly loved. If she’d felt any shred of guilt at what she and the Cleaver boys had done to Claire, this crushed it once and for all. She was glad they’d marked that bitch’s card now. ‘Look, what probably happened is she was upset when the two of you parted company, and she’s just taken herself off somewhere. She’s sulking.’
Josh thumped a scraped and bloodied fist against his forehead. ‘Oh Christ. I’ve fucked it all up, haven’t I. This is my fault.’
Shauna was staring at him. ‘We got to get out of here,’ she said. ‘We got to put all this shit behind us.’
Josh stared at her like she’d sprouted horns. ‘What? My girl—’
‘Don’t call her that, you fool. She ain’t your girl any more, can’t you see that? She’s cleared out, ain’t you got the message? She’s dumped you, and run off. Come on. Let’s go.’
Shauna stomped around the front of the car and got in the passenger seat, slamming the door after her.
‘You’re a cold-hearted bitch,’ said Josh.
‘Oh shut up. One of us has got to think straight.’
‘This is my fault.’
‘Yeah. Maybe it is. So what? Is this the life you see for yourself, Josh? Is it really? Living on a campsite ’til you die?’ Shauna looked at his face. ‘You’re king of the gypsy fighters now, Josh. You’ve made the break. All you got to do is accept it.’
Josh was staring at her. ‘Cold as fucking Christmas, ain’t you. I notice no one’s panicking over you going. Mostly because you’re always out on the tiles, ain’t you? Sometimes you’re gone for days, like a fucking alley cat. Your folks wouldn’t miss you.’
His words stung. But they were true. Everyone knew Shauna’s parents were shot away. Her mum had famously once knocked her husband out cold while he sat in his armchair by cracking a bottle full of whisky over his head. They both drank like fishes and fought like tigers, and it was pretty much known all around that Shauna had dragged herself up. So she had gone off, made her own amusements from an early age. Trotted off along the lane to the Cleaver place, where at least she was welcome. OK, she was welcome because she gave them uncomplicated sex, and they liked that. And what right did Josh Flynn have to criticize her? He’d liked her well enough too, in bed last night.
Shauna bit her tongue to stifle the angry words. One way or another she would make him forget Claire had ever existed.
Together, they could move on. She wanted more out of life than grubbing around for money, people spitting on the ground and calling her an effing pikey when they passed by. With Josh’s talents and her looks, they could go far. Provided he’d stop looking back and look toward the future instead.
‘So what are you doing here?’ asked Josh. His brain felt scrambled. Suddenly, his whole world was in chaos.
‘Looking for you, numbskull,’ said Shauna.
‘You thought I’d run out on you.’
‘And you fucking well did, didn’t you? And if she’d been here this morning and changed her mind about blowing you out, you’d have left me there to stew.’
‘I went to do a bit of business too,’ said Josh, his face troubled. Claire. Where the fuck was Claire? ‘I got a fight lined up for tonight.’
Shauna glanced at her watch. It was seven thirty in the morning and already it was hot.
‘Start the fucking car up then,’ she said irritably. ‘We got time to make it back to Crap Towers and get what passes for breakfast down our necks.’
Josh’s stomach rebelled at the thought of food. He had to find Claire. And Shauna was buzzing around his head like a mosquito, annoying the hell out of him.
‘Don’t look like that,’ said Shauna. ‘We’ve paid for it. We’re bloody well going to eat it.’
20
They left the B & B right after breakfast, which wasn’t much; no full English. Josh only poked at his food with a fork anyway. He didn’t eat.
‘We’re out of bacon,’ said the podgy wife of the irritable man serving as mine host, as she slapped their plates – cold plates – down in front of them. On each plate was a couple of spoonfuls of baked beans, a thin sliver of black pudding and that was it.
‘You out of bleeding eggs too?’ asked Shauna, thinking that they should have swerved the breakfast and driven on to a transport café instead.
The woman only shrugged. ‘And you’re not married, are you, the pair of you?’ she accused, glaring at Shauna’s naked ring finger. ‘Bloody disgusting, I call that.’
‘Oh shut your fat yap,’ said Shauna.
‘Get out of my house!’ ordered the woman.
They piled back into the Zephyr and sat there on the driveway.
‘Where you reckon Claire’s gone?’ asked Josh.
Who gives a shit?
‘She’ll be fine,’ said Shauna. ‘She’s off feeling bad about blowing you out and cheating everyone of the big wedding party, that’s all. Christ knows what Eva and Pally had to go and start calling the police out for. That’s mad.’
‘They were worried about her,’ said Josh.
‘What, enough to call the muskras?’ Shauna laughed. ‘That’s not the way we do things. You know that. They’ve taken leave of what little sense they’ve got.’
Shauna was looking at Josh. He was big and tough and handsome as hell. He was born to be a champion and that was going to keep them both in style. But at the centre he was soft as shit. She was going to have to get him out of that little habit of being too caring, too considerate.
‘Let’s go,’ she said, and Josh started the car.
‘First I’m going back to see if Claire’s shown up,’ said Josh.
Shauna let out a sigh, but thought better of arguing. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘But you’re wasting your time.’
Let him get that cow out of his system, once and for all.
Then they could move on.
21
Josh parked the car out on the lane and turned to Shauna, who’d been quiet on the drive back to the campsite.
‘Coming then?’ he asked.
Shauna looked at him. ‘No, I’m not bloody coming. I told you. I’m done with this place.’
‘You don’t even want to tell your folks what’s going on?’
‘I’ll send them a fucking postcard,’ said Shauna.
Josh got out of the car. ‘I won’t be long,’ he told her, and slammed the door closed.
Shauna irritably watched him walk off down the track. In search of Claire Milo, who was long gone. She had better be, anyway. Already, Shauna felt this part of her life was over and done with, and it galled her that Josh wasn’t letting go so easily. But he would. Eventually, he’d have no choice but to let the damned thing drop.
She heaved a sharp sigh and settled down in her seat. Then a dirty pickup truck came around the bend in the lane and juddered to a stop in front of the car.
Shit, she thought as Jeb Cleaver got out of the passenger side and came strolling over with that distinctive rolling gait of his. He walked like he had so much between his legs he could barely contain it, she thought, not for the first time. And she ought to know. She clambered out and met him halfway.
‘We shouldn’t be seen together,’ she told him. ‘You should go.’
What if Josh came back and found Jeb here with her? Ciaran was behind the wheel, staring at her – looking like a real creep with that milk-white blind e
ye. They were all creeps, the Cleavers. With luck, they’d have outlived their usefulness to her once she had Josh where she wanted him.
Instead of answering, Jeb pulled her in for a kiss, his meaty arms enfolding her. He stuck his tongue in her mouth and Shauna forced a response, feeling so tense that for a moment she was revolted.
‘We did you a big favour last night,’ he whispered against her lips.
Shauna tried to pull away. If Josh came back . . .
But Jeb held her tight.
‘You did yourself a favour too, didn’t you, with Claire Milo,’ she said.
‘Fresh meat is always the best,’ said Jeb with a grin.
‘And she’s gone,’ said Shauna, wanting it confirmed.
‘We looked down the church not half an hour since. Refilled the grave, too. Nobody there.’
Shauna nodded, satisfied. Then a thought hit her. What if that little cow had snuck back to the campsite. Hid out in that brand-new trailer Josh had bought for them to live in when they were married? She wouldn’t, would she? No. She wouldn’t dare.
‘You have to go,’ said Shauna urgently.
‘Just one more kiss . . .’ said Jeb, and started slobbering over her again.
Shauna endured it. For the time being, she needed to keep the Cleavers sweet. So she smiled at Jeb while wondering how Josh’s search of the camp was going.
In sombre mood, Josh unlocked the brand-new trailer he’d bought in such high spirits to house his new bride. Claire also had a key, and he hoped she was in here, prayed she was – and then he stepped inside.
It was empty.
He looked around it, pained by all the hopes and dreams that had been invested in the place, which were now going to come to nothing. Then he left the trailer and went and banged at the Milo family door.
No police here now, thank God. Pally Milo opened the door to him, and silently ushered him inside. Eva, Claire’s mother, was sitting on one of the couches cradling a huge white crystal-covered dress in her arms. Her face was wet with tears. Her daughter Trace sat there beside her, silent.
‘Claire’s wedding dress,’ said Pally as he and Josh stood over the two women.
‘The muskras didn’t find her then?’ asked Josh. He didn’t want to look at the dress. It hurt too much.
‘Nah, we . . .’ Pally looked uncomfortable.
‘He phoned them, told them she’d come back home and not to worry,’ burst out Eva, giving her husband an evil look.
‘We can’t have the fucking muskras swarming over the place,’ said Pally. ‘Be reasonable.’
‘Claire’s missing,’ said Trace.
‘I thought she might be with you,’ said Eva, looking at Josh with such hope that he felt pity for her.
‘I wish she was,’ he said. ‘She isn’t.’
‘Is that the truth?’ demanded Pally.
‘The Everetts are saying their girl Shauna’s gone off on one of her benders again,’ said Trace, looking at Josh. ‘But that’s nothing new.’
Josh kept quiet. If he let on Shauna was with him, there’d be blood on the carpet. Accusations would fly. Everyone would think that was the reason Claire had vanished, because he’d been playing around with Shauna. And that wasn’t true. So it was best to say nothing.
‘You’ve been out looking for her? Checking round the area?’ he asked instead.
‘Every able-bodied man on this site’s been looking for her – in the woods, all up and down the lanes, down the dell, everywhere. She ain’t here. She’s gone,’ said Pally, eyeing Josh with hostility. ‘And where the fuck have you been? If I find you had anything to do with this . . .’
I had everything to do with it, thought Josh, disgusted with himself. Making her attend the fight. Asking her to ditch her big wedding plans and go for a hole-in-the-corner affair instead. He’d upset her too much, and now she’d fled.
‘She must have intended to go,’ said Trace. ‘Her suitcase has gone. And some of her clothes. It’s not like she . . .’ Her voice trailed away.
Not like she’s been abducted, taken by force, raped or murdered.
No. If she’d taken some possessions, Josh thought, that must be a good sign. She’d packed up and gone of her own free will. But where?
‘Where would she go?’ Josh asked. He couldn’t look at Eva. This should have been building up to the happiest time in a mother’s life, seeing a daughter marry, and now it was all destroyed. Eva’s heartbreak was too raw. It made him feel ashamed.
‘Maybe to the cousins in Ireland?’ said Pally.
‘Give me the address,’ said Josh.
‘I’ll phone them from the village,’ said Pally.
‘Give me their damned address.’
‘Let him have it, Pally,’ said Eva, so Pally did.
22
The ring was set up behind Pole’s funfair at midnight. At this point Shauna was thinking, It’s too soon, this is ridiculous. Josh had only last night taken a hell of a pasting off Matty and now he was going toe-to-toe with another monster of a man. Added to which, he seemed numbed by the sudden turn of events with Claire. At the moment she didn’t know whether he was going to just lay down and die, or kill some bastard with his bare hands. It could go either way.
This match wasn’t going to be a ‘straightener’, a stand-up fist-fight like the one he’d had with Matty. This one was going to be ‘all-in’, and that was worse, much rougher, an ‘anything-goes’ type of bout where eyes could get gouged out, kicking was all right, biting too, and if ribs were broken or if anybody happened to die of a busted spleen, that was a shame, but it was OK.
Paul Lean was Linus Pole’s nephew and he was a monster. He was nearly seven feet tall, and solid as a bulldog, his nose flattened and knocked sideways so often that he breathed like a bulldog, too, with a rasping wheeze. You heard him before he ever came into view, and when he came into view that was enough to make quite a few men shit themselves and run the other way.
But not Josh. Tonight, a desperate madness swamped him. The betting was under way and the ref was in the ring. The two of them – Josh looking almost lightweight, his head and middle black with bruises, and Paul like a brick wall – were squaring up when the bell went and they were off. Screams and cheers and shouts went up all around the ring and Shauna, standing in Josh’s corner, was jostled and shoved as everyone yelled suggestions as to how they would despatch him. Paul was their boy, their favourite. Josh, big as he was, looked like a child in contrast.
But Josh had a long southpaw reach and he was in a crazy mood over losing Claire; dancing around the ring, he suddenly charged at the big man and took him by surprise, landing a killer left on Paul’s jaw. A sudden hush fell as Paul staggered back, then Josh surged forward with a flurry of left and right hooks that left Paul sagging against the ropes, but even then Josh showed no sign of letting up. Despite the glazed look in the man’s eyes, he kept pounding Paul’s huge head and torso.
Inside three minutes, it was over.
Paul hit the dirt and lay there, spark out.
The ref came forward and yanked Josh’s hand into the air.
Silence from the crowd.
Shauna thought you could have heard a pin drop. Everyone was stunned. Christ, she was stunned too. Josh turned in the ring, not a blow having landed on him, and slowly the clapping started. It wasn’t much, people had lost their shirts tonight and they felt cheated of more rounds, but it had been done fairly, so they clapped, and Josh returned to his corner and Linus Pole was there with his winnings.
‘Fuck me,’ said Pole, slapping Josh on the shoulder and handing him his envelope with the winner’s prize – a thousand quid – inside. ‘You’re a handy man, Mr Flynn. Fearless Flynn, that’s what we should call you. You went through our boy like a dose of bloody salts.’
‘Thanks,’ said Josh, who had barely broken sweat.
Linus Pole looked around and lowered his voice. ‘I done OK out of a few side bets.’
‘Side bets?’ echoed Josh, his eyes blank o
f emotion.
Linus winked. ‘Thought you looked handy,’ he said. Then he looked across at the crowd and added in a low voice, ‘No offence, but if I were you I’d make myself scarce now. People put a lot of money on Paul to win. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Like we said?’
Josh nodded. Shauna handed him his shirt, and he shrugged it on. He still ached all over from Matty’s punches, but he’d mend. He always did. Shauna glanced back at the big man on the floor. He was still down, his eyes closed. An older man was fussing over him, slapping his cheek, calling out his name. Probably his dad. Now she looked at Josh with new respect. Josh had a big talent, that was for certain. A talent that they could easily exploit. And they would.
‘We’ll get you some more fights lined up,’ she said, smiling up at him.
‘Not yet,’ said Josh.
‘Why not?’
‘I’m off to Ireland on the ferry, day after tomorrow.’
Shit, thought Shauna.
23
Claire was exhausted. Everything around her seemed unreal. She was used to the quiet campsite, talking to the horses, walking Blue around the meadows and down the lanes. But now there was only the noise of engines and of people, so many people all around her, chattering and moving and laughing, while she floated in a dreamlike bubble of isolation.
She’d walked, then caught a bus from the nearest village into Winchester, and from there she’d got the train up to Liverpool. There she boarded the ferry for Dublin. She had a passport, she’d had one for a year or so, since Josh had said he might take her away to Spain or somewhere like that on a trip when they were wed, so she’d better be prepared. It hurt her to even think about that now.
When she arrived in Ireland she checked into a B & B near the docks because it was late, and then she tried to sleep. But she couldn’t. Nightmare images of the happenings in the church kept swirling around her brain. Blue, thrown dead into Polly James’s grave. And the Cleavers, grunting as they took it in turns to use her, hurting her, bruising her, laughing all the while about popping her cherry and saying she was good, she was fresh meat. She had to put a chair against the locked door to even lie down on the bed and rest. Sleep was out of the question, she was too afraid for that. They might come after her again, and Shauna would be with them, cruel Shauna who had left her there for them to have their fun with, like she was nothing.
