Tainted Lives

by Mandasue Heller

  ‘I gather you know her, as well?’ Mark sniped huffily, jealous of all the attention Sean had been getting from the moment they had set foot in the airport. He was obviously a lot more popular than he’d made out.

  ‘I know everyone, honey,’ Sean replied, reaching across to give Mark’s thigh a squeeze beneath the blanket. ‘Doesn’t mean I’ve shagged them all, though, so stop with the green-eye nonsense, and enjoy!’

  Smiling as he adjusted his jeans to accommodate his hard-on, Mark rested his head back. It was only a short flight, but he wanted to catch a bit of shut-eye before landing. Paris never slept – according to Sean. They would be dropping their gear off at the hotel then going straight out to do a tour of the mega-depraved nightspots Sean had either already visited on his travels or had heard about from his mile-high comrades.

  ‘I got my joeys,’ Sean whispered into his ear seconds later, having finished his texting and dutifully switched off his mobile. ‘White chocolate and wild strawberry. They smell divine!’

  ‘Wait till you get a load of mine,’ Mark whispered back. ‘I found these really weird vodka-and-mint-liquor ones. I tried one on last night, and it kind of burns and chills at the same time.’

  ‘Funky!’ Sean teased. ‘Hope you didn’t get too carried away?’

  ‘Shut up!’ Blushing, Mark glanced nervously around.

  ‘Chill, babe,’ Sean whispered. ‘No one’s got a clue what we’re talking about. Pass me your drink.’

  Mark smiled as he handed over his glass. Sean had a voracious appetite. Drink, drugs, food, sex. Nothing was ever quite enough. But while Sean was a taker, Mark was a giver, so it evened itself out. Mark would give his all and more to be with Sean. He was everything Mark had ever wanted in a man. Gorgeous, with immaculately cut sun-bleached hair, expertly plucked eyebrows and long, curly black eyelashes, he had a gym-fit body, and a lovely hard—

  ‘Nearly there.’ Sean was peering out of the tiny window into the pitch-dark sky. ‘Fancy dropping an E before we land?’

  ‘No way!’ Mark gasped. ‘I’ll only end up acting weird and getting strip-searched.’

  ‘You should be so lucky!’ Sean snorted. ‘You’re with me, remember – we’ll sail through. I’m having one, anyway. They’re supposed to be brilliant, and I want to be up, up, up when we touch down. Sure you won’t change your mind? It’ll be a mind-blowing taxi ride . . .’ He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  ‘Oh, go on, then.’ Grinning, Mark held out his hand. Why not? He’d never have dared to be so adventurous on his own, but he’d been thoroughly corrupted since he and Sean had got together. Still, it was all good, clean fun. And it didn’t interfere with his professional life in the slightest – he made absolutely sure of that.

  21

  Dandi called Vinnie to the office after breakfast the following morning. She gave him his bank card and a five-pound note, explaining that the latter was taxi fare because, under the circumstances, she wouldn’t be able to drive him to the housing project as planned.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind, but the police will be coming to see me again soon, and then I’ve got to get over to the hospital.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Vinnie told her, pocketing the money. ‘What’s going on, anyway?’

  ‘I can’t discuss it,’ Dandi said. Then, forcing a more cheerful tone, ‘Anyway, the taxi will be here in half an hour. Have you got everything ready?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Anything you want to ask?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, I guess that’s it, then.’ Standing, she extended her hand across the desk. ‘Goodbye, and good luck.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Standing up, Vinnie took her hand.

  Holding him there, Dandi peered into his eyes. ‘I won’t pretend it’s always been a pleasure, but I will miss you – believe it or not. Watching you struggle your way up to where you are today will give us a far better understanding of the next Vinnie who struts through our doors.’ Giving his hand a final squeeze, she let go and came around the desk to show him out. ‘I want you to know that I’m very proud of the efforts you’ve made to better yourself. You’re a good-looking young man with a very bright future ahead of you. Just make sure that you take care of yourself.’

  ‘Yes, Miss.’ Embarrassed to feel a sudden softness towards her, Vinnie thought it best to get moving before he made a real tit of himself. ‘See you,’ he said, racing out before she took it into her head to hug him, or something.

  Closing the door behind him, Dandi smoked a cigarette then pulled her coat on and set off to visit Harry in the intensive care unit at Withington Hospital.

  Reaching the project at just gone ten, Vinnie introduced himself to the pretty receptionist and asked for the keys to his room. Under normal circumstances he would have indulged in a little flirting, but he had more pressing things on his mind right now.

  He tapped his fingers agitatedly on the chest-high desk as the young woman wandered into the back office. He was in a mega-hurry to dump his gear and get out. The project manager had different ideas. Strolling out, he clapped a friendly arm around Vinnie’s shoulder.

  ‘Glad you could join us, Vinnie. I’m Keith Lomax, the manager, and your personal port of call for help and advice. Let me show you your room, then we’ll grab a cuppa and have a chat. I’ve drawn up your schedule for the first week, so we’ll go over that – see what suits, what needs adjusting.’

  Propelling Vinnie along a series of corridors and up in a lift to the second floor, he unlocked a door and stepped back to let Vinnie enter. Following him inside, he conducted a lightning tour of the bedroom-cum-sitting room, the tiny bathroom and the even smaller kitchenette.

  ‘Now, the rules,’ he said when they had finished. ‘Make brews and heat food up, but do not attempt to cook. Smoke, yes. Drink, no. No visitors in the room, but you may bring a maximum of two into the day room for one hour per week – by prior arrangement. Taking it all in so far?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Good. Now, your property is your responsibility, so the onus is on you to keep your door locked, but anything valuable may be left in the safe. Keys are collected at the front desk when you come in, and left there when you go out – no exceptions. And, lastly, be back by ten, or stay out. First time, I’ll hear you out. Second, you’re gone. Any questions?’

  ‘No.’ Vinnie shook his head and folded his arms, willing the man to shut up so that he could get out of there.

  ‘Okay,’ Keith said, smiling as he opened the door. ‘Shall we get that coffee?’

  ‘Er, I can’t just now.’ Vinnie glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve got something to do.’

  ‘Important?’

  Nosy bastard! Vinnie thought. ‘Yeah, pretty much,’ he said.

  Putting his fisted hands on his hips, Keith thought about it for a moment then nodded. ‘Okay, but make sure you’re back by three because the careers adviser is coming to sign you on. We’ll have that chat later, yeah?’

  Vinnie fought his irritation as he made his way to Sarah’s address. It seemed as though the housing project was going to be even more restrictive than Starlight. Still, if everything went according to plan, he wouldn’t have to put up with it for too long. He’d move in with Sarah as soon as he could and fuck the world and its rules.

  No one answered when he knocked. Squatting down, he raised the letter-box flap and peered into the dim hallway, wrinkling his nose at the sour, dirty smell that wafted out. No one seemed to be home.

  Wandering into the park across the road, Vinnie kept an eye on the house as he strolled around the fishing lake, kicking stones into the water to deter the fierce-looking swans from venturing too close.

  After circling the lake twice, he sat on a bench beside a scruffy old man and scrounged a couple of roll-ups – in return for listening to the old dude prattle on about his kidney stones, his snuffed-it wife, and the war.

  Leaping to his feet when he spotted someone going up Sarah’s path some time later, he flipped a goodbye to t
he man and raced across the road. Reaching the door just as it was closing, he thrust out a hand and pushed it back, calling, ‘Hang about!’

  Yanking the door open, letting the dogs loose, Dave said, ‘Yo! What d’y’ think you’re playing at, man? You’ll get your fuckin’ head blown off barging into people’s gaffs like that!’

  Eyeing the snarling dogs, Vinnie said, ‘Sorry, mate. I’m looking for someone.’

  ‘Oh, yeah?’

  ‘Yeah. Girl called Sarah.’

  ‘She ain’t here no more.’ Calling the dogs in, Dave began to close the door.

  Despite the risk of having the dogs set on him properly this time, Vinnie once again pushed it back.

  ‘Man, you’re really pissing me off now!’ Dave glared at him. ‘I said she ain’t here. You deaf, or something?’

  ‘You sure about that?’ Vinnie glared back. ‘’Cos if you’re trying to blag me, I’ll rip your fuckin’ head off – dogs or no dogs!’

  ‘Don’t threaten me, you little dickhead.’ Coming outside, Dave shoved Vinnie so hard he almost fell down the steps. ‘She fucked off a few weeks back, and if I was you, I’d do the same!’

  Before Vinnie could retaliate, Tony the speedfreak ran up the path and joined Dave at the door.

  ‘What’s going on?’ He looked at Vinnie with bulging-eyed suspicion.

  ‘He’s after her that used to live up top,’ Dave told him. ‘I’ve told him she done one, but he thinks I’m blagging.’

  ‘Well, he’s not,’ Tony said. ‘She took off a while back.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘Bull!’ Vinnie snorted.

  ‘What do you think these are, gob-shite?’ Tony reached for a stack of letters sitting on the meter cupboard just inside the front door and shoved them under Vinnie’s nose, showing that they were addressed to Sarah. ‘If she was here, she’d have ’em, wouldn’t she? Now do one, and don’t come round here causing trouble again, ’less you want to take us both on?’

  His eyes narrowed to angry slits, Vinnie looked at each of the men in turn. They were pretty old, but they looked handy – especially the dog man, who looked like a bit of a psycho. He had no doubt he’d wipe either of them separately, but together they might cause too much aggro.

  ‘See you around,’ he said, backing down the steps. Pausing at the gate, he cocked a two-finger gun at their heads then strolled away.

  Sarah had gone. What was he supposed to do now? If he’d been smarter, he’d have got in touch when he first found out she was there. But he’d wanted to surprise her, and now it was too late.

  Stupid, really stupid.

  But not as stupid as her former housemates. They would pay for talking to him like that.

  Dandi sat on the chair beside the crisply sheeted hospital bed and a range of emotions rolled over her as she gazed at Harry’s colourless face. Pity, regret, sadness, anger. Guilt. Sarah had warned her. Why hadn’t she listened?

  But, no, that wasn’t entirely true. She had listened – she just hadn’t believed. And this was the result. This child, whose whole life had been dogged by rejection and torment, clinging to life against the odds, his future bleaker now than it had ever been.

  Holding his cold little hand as the hours ticked away, Dandi battled with her thoughts. The evidence was overwhelming, but even now she didn’t want to believe that Mark was guilty of this heinous crime. She prayed that Harry would wake up and tell them what had really happened, so sure was she that he would clear Mark Chambers.

  22

  West and Vine accompanied the two detectives handling the Shaw case to Manchester Airport on the Monday morning. Surrounding Mark Chambers and Sean Jacobs as they strolled through the arrivals gate, they took them into a side room and searched them.

  Jacobs had nothing more incriminating than a stack of cellophane-wrapped hard-core porn magazines in his suitcase. Confiscating these – for the hell of it – they sent him on his way.

  Chambers, however, wasn’t nearly so lucky. He had a clear-plastic bank bag containing two Ecstasy tablets in the hip pocket of his jeans. And in his wallet there were a couple of unusually ‘flavoured’ condoms of the same sort as the one that West had found in his waste bin.

  Reading him his rights, they strip-searched him – as invasively as possible – then bagged his clothes and made him put on full nonce-whites before cuffing him and leading him out to the waiting van.

  A ferocious blush suffused the stark whiteness of Mark’s face as several hundred pairs of eyes watched his progress through the airport. Avoiding the curious stares, he fixed his gaze on the puffy white slip-ons covering his feet, fully aware that he looked like some sort of mass murderer. He’d never been so humiliated in his life.

  And he wasn’t at all sure what he was being charged with. He’d been so shocked to be grabbed like that he’d hardly taken in a word they’d said. Except rape – he’d heard that, all right. And all he could connect it to was Sarah’s false allegation, and the way the two PCs had reacted when he’d had to tell them about it. They’d said they were going to talk to her. Had she decided to bring charges against him after all?

  Harry came round later that night, but he didn’t clear Mark because he couldn’t remember a thing about the assault. In fact, he couldn’t remember much of anything after being picked up by the police outside Sarah’s house that time he’d run away.

  The psychologist spent hours with him over the following days, talking to him and assessing his mental condition. She concluded that he was unfit to give evidence at Mark Chambers’s trial. In her report she stated that it was a common phenomenon for the victim of such a traumatic event to suppress all knowledge of it, and as there was no way of forcing recall all they could hope was that he would one day recover his memory and give them the information he had locked away.

  In the meantime, the psychologist recommended that Harry should be moved to a new location. He obviously couldn’t return to Starlight, and she felt it would be beneficial to send him out of Manchester, to enable him to start afresh.

  Dandi wouldn’t have raised an objection even if she could have. Racked with guilt for having failed Harry so miserably, she packed up his belongings and handed them over to his new social worker, asking only that the woman please keep her informed about the boy’s progress.

  Three months later, the case finally came to court.

  Mark was brought from the holding cell that he had occupied throughout his time on remand. Handcuffed and flanked by two stony-faced guards, he took his seat behind the glass screen and peered nervously out at the people crammed into the public seating area and gallery above.

  His heart sank when he saw that Sean wasn’t among them. In his letters, Sean had assured him that he believed in him and wouldn’t turn his back. Mark was disappointed that he had decided not to come, but he wasn’t entirely surprised. He didn’t know if he could have faced it had the tables been turned. Still, at least Dandi was here to support him – even if she seemed to be having a little difficulty meeting his eye.

  The atmosphere was heavy as the trial got under way, but it was to grow darker still as the evidence was outlined in much fuller detail than the media had previously been able to release. Everyone knew that the accused was supposed to have assaulted a child, but they had no clue what the word ‘assault’ really meant until the prosecution team got going – in as strong and unrelenting a way as possible, in order to convince the jury of Chambers’s guilt.

  It took little more than four hours.

  Despite Harry having no recall of the night in question – and the previous allegation made against Mark by Sarah not being allowed to be mentioned – the jury decided that the evidence of the items found in Chambers’s room, his subsequent weekend disappearance, and the fact that he had been found with illegal drugs both on his person and in his blood when he was arrested was compelling enough to convict.

  Satisfied that it was a fair and reasonable conclusion, the judge deliver
ed a sentence of eleven years.

  Mark was stunned. He truly hadn’t expected to be found guilty. Searching for Dandi among the baying crowd, he felt as if a knife had been plunged into his heart when he saw her staring coldly back at him.

  Shaking her head, Dandi rose to her feet. She hadn’t wanted to believe it, but after hearing it laid out as starkly as she had today, she could no longer allow her personal emotions to cloud her judgement. Mark was guilty. She’d been a gullible fool.

  Protesting his innocence all the way, Mark was led from the dock, tears streaming down his cheeks, and out through the back door to be driven away through a gathering crowd to begin his sentence.

  If the jeering mob outside the courts had unnerved him, he was absolutely terrified by the less than friendly greeting he received at Strangeways – from officers and prisoners alike.

  Life as Mark had known it was over.

  23

  Claire was a nightmare to live with – far dirtier than Sarah remembered her being at Starlight, and twice as nasty. And her friends – if that’s what you could call the group of codependent dregs she lived among – were even worse.

  May Cox was vile. And Billy and Makka were two of the foulest creeps she had ever met, who thought nothing of fixing up in front of whoever was around at the time – May’s kids included. They were all filthy, and they smelled rancid. Their flats were disgusting, and not one of them seemed to own a toothbrush.

  Much as Sarah detested the others, she particularly disliked Claire. But she was finding it almost impossible to get away from her. Every time she said she was going to find a place of her own, Claire would develop sudden problems with her pregnancy and beg her to stay, saying she was terrified that she would lose the baby if she was left alone – just like she’d lost all the others. Sarah felt like pointing out that she hadn’t cared about any of the others, but she didn’t want to risk being the cause if Claire did miscarry. Still, her patience was wearing very, very thin.