Tainted Lives

by Mandasue Heller

  ‘I’m sure he’ll realize he’s out of his league once me and Carl have had a word.’

  ‘What you gonna say?’

  ‘Never mind the ins and outs. Just take my word this’ll be sorted by the time we get back.’

  ‘We’ll all go,’ Joe said, looking to the others for support.

  ‘No!’ Glen’s voice was sharp. ‘I need you lot to stay here and keep things running smooth. We know most of the lads are safe, but we don’t give ’em an inch till we know who’s involved in this. I want you breathing down their necks till one of the cunts cracks.’

  There was a murmur of agreement.

  ‘Right.’ He reached for a bottle of Scotch. ‘Let’s have a run-through – make sure everyone knows what they’re supposed to be doing.’

  Frowning as the guys discussed their various responsibilities, Vinnie waited to be given a job. As the youngest, he didn’t have a crew of his own. Glen seemed to like having him around as a kind of personal assistant. But if Glen was going to London, what was he supposed to do?

  ‘What about me, G?’ he asked after a while. ‘You want me to drive you there? I could stick around in case you need back-up.’

  ‘Nah.’ Glen shook his head. ‘You’re babysitting.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Carina and me mother.’

  ‘Aw, come on,’ Vinnie protested. ‘I want to do something useful, man. What about Jimmy’s crew? They’ll need a boss now he’s out of the picture.’

  ‘They’re sorted,’ Glen told him curtly. ‘And so are you, so button it. And think on,’ he pointed a warning finger. ‘You mightn’t think this is important, but her and me mother mean more to me than any crack house, so you’d best not fuck it up. If I come back and find out one of Lewis’s men got so much as a foot near either one of them, I’ll kill you. Got that?’

  ‘Got it,’ Vinnie muttered, folding his arms.

  Glen stared at him for a moment longer, then nodded. Snapping out of his mood as fast as it had come over him, he raised his glass. ‘Now we’re sorted, we’d best make the most of the time we’ve got left. Happy Christmas, you bunch of tarts!’

  Vinnie tried to get into the spirit of things as the night wore on, but it was impossible. He was still sulking, and Carina made it worse by following him around, touching him up and whispering what she’d do to him when she got him on his own.

  Slipping out into the back garden when she wasn’t looking, he slumped down on the bench and closed his eyes to think in peace. Babysitting! It was a pure fucking humiliation and Glen was taking the piss. Vinnie wanted to be in on the real action, not looking after a couple of birds. He’d be a laughing stock when the sub-crews found out.

  Sensing a presence, he looked up and saw the woman he’d raised his glass to earlier smiling down at him.

  ‘Hi, there,’ she purred. ‘I saw you slipping out. I thought you’d gone home or something.’

  ‘No, I’m still here,’ he muttered, taking a slug of whisky and staring out across the dark expanse of grass.

  ‘Am I disturbing you? I’m sorry . . . I just thought . . .’

  Vinnie sighed wearily. He felt like telling her to piss off, but he still had the plan to get Carina off his back to carry out, and she was obviously willing. Blonde, pretty, decent tits, slim. She had to be worth a shag.

  ‘I just needed a breather,’ he said, smiling now, turning on the charm. ‘Missed me, did you?’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself.’ She laughed softly. ‘I only came out for a bit of peace.’

  ‘Bit of a piece of what?’

  ‘Don’t you mean who?’ Sliding onto the bench, she took the glass from his hand and sipped his drink. ‘It needs ice.’ Handing it back, her gaze fell to his crotch. ‘Lots of ice to cool it down.’

  Vinnie gave her a slow smile. ‘Don’t worry about me, babe. I like it hot.’

  ‘I bet you do,’ she murmured flirtatiously. ‘So, what were you so deep in thought about?’

  ‘You,’ he lied, giving the answer she was expecting – and getting the expected response in return.

  ‘Oh? I didn’t think you’d noticed me.’

  Vinnie gave a silent groan. It was all too easy and he didn’t know if he could be bothered.

  Pulling himself together when Carina’s laughter floated out through the partially open door, he slid his arm across the back of the bench.

  ‘Course I noticed you,’ he drawled, laying it on thick. ‘I’ve been thinking about you all night, as it happens.’

  ‘Really?’ She was more than a little flattered that this gorgeous man seemed to want her as much as she wanted him. ‘And what were you thinking?’

  ‘Oh, you know.’ He held her gaze, his eyes glinting wickedly in the moonlight filtering through the clouds. ‘Wondering what colour knickers you’re wearing and how long it’s going to take to get them off.’ He was perversely pleased to see the blush suffusing her cheeks. Served her right for coming on so strong to a strange man.

  ‘Whoa!’ She held up a hand, her smile faltering. ‘What’s the rush?’

  ‘What’s the wait? You followed me, remember.’

  ‘Yeah, to get to know you a little better.’

  ‘And how much better can you know someone than in bed, naked?’ he reasoned, flipping her a wink.

  Bored of the foreplay now, Vinnie downed his drink and tossed his glass onto the lawn. ‘I’m out of here. Coming?’

  She looked at him uncertainly, a little afraid now. She couldn’t make him out. One minute he was nice, the next abrupt and cold. She wanted him, but did he want her, or was he just after an easy lay?

  Pulling his sleeve back, Vinnie glanced impatiently at his watch.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, standing up. ‘But it’ll have to be your place. My, er, husband might object if I take you to mine.’

  Vinnie gave a sly smile. She was married. Perfect. No post-fuck whining for affection, or demands for future contact. Going to the patio door, he slid it back and waved her through.

  ‘It’s Lucy, by the way,’ she said, touching his arm as she stepped inside. ‘My name.’

  Vinnie felt a surge of irritation. He hadn’t asked for details, and she was seriously on the verge of fucking her chances by trying to make this personal. He wasn’t exactly in the mood as it was, and if she didn’t quit yakking he’d never get it up.

  He was just contemplating sacking the whole thing off when he heard Carina laughing again. Looking at her draped all over Glen in the living room, sucking up to him over the jewellery when not long before she’d been giving Vinnie shit just for smiling at this woman, he scowled.

  ‘Tell you what,’ he said to Lucy, an idea of a way to have a real dig at Carina occurring to him. ‘How do you fancy going to a club first?’

  Lucy immediately perked up. If he wanted to spend time with her outside the bed she might actually get a conversation out of him – and who knew where that might lead? Linking her arm through his, she smiled up at him.

  ‘That’s a great idea. Hope you like dancing ’cos I’m in the mood to get down!’

  ‘Hold that thought.’ Vinnie gave her a lopsided grin, making her wet with a flash of his perfect teeth. Disentangling himself, he shooed her towards the door.

  ‘Someone’s been a good boy,’ Glen yelled as Vinnie approached to tell them he was leaving. ‘Santa delivered yours early, eh, Vin?’

  ‘Yeah, he’s brought you a right cracker!’ Joe joined in. ‘Hope your sack’s big enough!’

  ‘Hope he’s big enough in the sack, more like!’ said Freddie. ‘Sure you don’t need a hand, young ’un? Few pointers to stop her leading you a-sleigh!’

  ‘Aw, shut your gobs,’ Pam scolded. ‘Vinnie knows what he’s doing, don’t you, love?’

  ‘I think I can manage.’

  ‘Got clean sheets, and that?’

  ‘Sheets are fine, but we’re not going straight to mine.’ Vinnie flicked a sly glance at Carina. ‘I’m taking her to Foxies.’

  ‘Go on then,
my son!’ Glen roared, reaching across to shake his hand. ‘Show her how the professionals do it so she knows how you like it, eh?’

  ‘Something like that.’ Vinnie grinned, glad to see that Carina wasn’t laughing now. ‘Anyhow, best not keep her waiting. See you tomorrow.’

  ‘Two o’clock. And it’s a big bird, so don’t wear yourself out on that one!’ Glen called after him. ‘Lucky little bastard,’ he said then. ‘Don’t know how he does it, but he always pulls the lookers, don’t he?’

  ‘If you like that sort of thing,’ Carina snarled under her breath.

  ‘He does that,’ Joe said, rolling his eyes in mock despair. ‘I was eyeing that one up for meself.’

  ‘Piss off!’ Glen snorted. ‘What’s a bird like that gonna do back at your mother’s?’

  ‘Get her kit off and moan and groan till morning,’ Pam said, reaching out to pinch his cheek. ‘Same as all the tarts you used to bring back to mine did! The good old days, eh, son?’

  ‘Don’t know about that,’ Glen said, oblivious to the furious scowl on Carina’s face. ‘I had me fair share of barkers.’

  ‘You did that,’ Pam agreed. ‘But that’s the booze for you. Just like your father for that, you was – God damn his miserable soul. In with the gut-rot – out with the meat and two.’

  Laughing, Glen put his arm around Carina’s rigid shoulders and gave her a squeeze. Gazing down at her when she stiffened, he said, ‘What’s up with you? You’ve gone a bit quiet. Feeling iffy, or something?’

  Forcing herself to smile, Carina said, ‘Yeah, I’m getting a headache. I think I’d best go to bed. I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.’

  ‘Me mother will sort all that in the morning,’ Glen told her, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. ‘And you can’t be going to sleep just yet.’ Picking up her hand, he angled it so that the diamonds caught the light. ‘You’ve still got to thank me for this little lot, remember.’

  Carina gritted her teeth. She didn’t know if she could face going ten rounds with him tonight. Glen was rampant at the best of times, but tonight, full of champagne and cocaine, he’d be insatiable – and rougher than he realized, relentlessly grinding her into the mattress as he strove to reach the orgasm they both knew wouldn’t come. If she were walking tomorrow, it’d be a miracle.

  ‘I’ll see you upstairs,’ she muttered, getting up and pushing her way out of the room.

  ‘Where’s she going?’ Pam asked snippily. ‘Katie would never walk out halfway through a party.’

  ‘No, ’cos she was always too busy seeing to everyone else to think about warming the bed up for me,’ Glen told her. ‘And stop going on about my bloody ex-wife in front of Carina. You know it upsets her.’

  ‘I was only saying.’

  ‘Yeah, well, don’t. We’re getting divorced, end of!’ Giving his mother a stern look, Glen had to laugh when she stuck her tongue out. ‘Right!’ He clapped his hands. ‘Who wants another line before I kick you all out and go for me dessert?’

  Carina raged against the world as she undressed.

  Why Glen had to have his mother around all the time, she did not know. But he adored Pam for some unfathomable reason, and Carina knew better than to complain – yet. Still, the old bitch couldn’t live for ever. And the day she did the decent thing and snuffed it, Carina would dance all over her rotten grave!

  And the same went for Pam’s precious daughter-in-law, Katie – Glen’s whore of an ex-wife. She might think she had a right to his money because she had his brat of a son under her belt, but she was another one who was going to get a rude awakening before too long. As soon as those divorce papers came through there would be no more demanding that he pay this bill and that. She wouldn’t get a single penny more than the brat’s maintenance.

  Ditto Glen’s freeloading mates. The party was coming to an end for them, too – and not just the noisy affair going on down below, the whole shebang. They would pay their own way when Carina got her say, support their own habits on their more than generous wages. She was sick to death of them taking the piss while Glen footed all the bills.

  As for Vinnie Walker . . . Damn him to hell and back for taking that skinny bitch to Foxies! That was their place. How dare he defile it by taking some worthless little slag there! The bitch had better not even think about showing her face round here again. And just wait till Glen went away. Vinnie was going to pay dearly for betraying Carina tonight! The cunt wasn’t getting away with spitting in her face like this. If he wanted to play dirty, he’d picked the wrong opponent. She’d tear the bastard’s bollocks off and dangle them off her rear-view mirror if he wasn’t careful!

  25

  It was still dark when Sarah woke up. For a moment she was disorientated by the clean smell of the room. No sweaty feet, stale smoke, or sour booze-breath. Then she had a flashback of Pete crawling into bed at three a.m., plastered and expecting a legover he had a hope in hell of getting, and remembered that she had slept in their daughter’s narrow single bed.

  Looking at Kimmy curled up beside her now, her impossibly long eyelashes resting against her flushed cheeks and her rosebud lips softly fluttering around the barely audible snores coming from her sweet-smelling mouth, Sarah smiled. This child was the flame of her heart – the reason she still bothered to get up in the mornings.

  Easing herself out of bed, she tiptoed from the room. Flipping on the living-room light she looked at the small heap of packages littering the floor beneath the tinselled tree and gritted her teeth. The pram wasn’t there. The one thing Kimmy had actually asked for, and Pete had forgotten to bring it back. He was such a prick sometimes! She’d have to drive round to Hannah’s and pick it up now – and try to get it wrapped before Kimmy woke up.

  Going to her own bedroom, Sarah switched on the lamp and took her clothes from the wardrobe – avoiding looking at Pete for fear that she might slap his stupid face.

  Dressing, with a scowl etched deeply into her brow, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and groaned. She was only twenty-six, but she looked and felt more like forty-six. Her hair was lank, her skin dull, and her eyes were sunken and lifeless. If anyone had warned her that marriage would do this to her she’d have run a thousand miles.

  Nine years they had been together and what, apart from Kimmy, had they achieved? Nothing! Oh, sure, they had an okay flat – if you overlooked the fact that it was council and furnished with second-hand bargains. And they had a car – albeit a ten-year-old Orion. But it hardly matched up to the plans they had made once upon a long time ago. Pete’s brilliant career, the terrific wage, the apartment on the Quays. Where had it all gone wrong?

  In Pete’s head, Sarah thought bitterly. Yes, he was working – and she had to give him credit for struggling on in a job that he hated – but he’d long ago given up on the idea of promotion, and he had the strange idea that whatever was left over from his wages after the bills were paid was his to spend on things that brought him pleasure. Getting pissed with his mates, for example – leaving her to get on with everything else: washing, cleaning, cooking . . . Kimmy.

  That was another thing that galled her – his belief that being a good father meant spending as little time as possible with his child. But she’d given up trying to force him to understand the value of creating and nurturing the bond that she herself shared with Kimmy. So what if he had no clue what she liked to eat or what her favourite cartoons were? It was him who was losing out.

  Still, for all the complaints, Sarah knew that she wasn’t as badly off as some. At least she always had food in the cupboard – unlike most of the women round here who trained their kids to hide behind the couch at a knock on the door and were constantly on the scrounge. And, unlike their men, Pete had never laid a hand on her. If all she had to worry about was being taken for granted, she wasn’t doing too badly.

  Lacing her trainers, she took the keys from Pete’s pocket and let herself quietly out of the flat.

  Pulling up outside her friend’s house a few minutes later Sa
rah smiled when she saw the lights blazing inside. At least someone knew how to kick Christmas morning off in style. If she knew Hannah, the house would be a mess of ripped paper, broken toys and melted chocolate by now, and Hannah herself would be relaxing at the kitchen table with a fag and a steaming cup of tea in her hand.

  Hannah answered the door and shivered exaggeratedly in the chill air. Wrapping her dressing gown tighter around herself she waved Sarah in.

  ‘Come for the pram?’ she asked, closing the door quickly. ‘I told your Pete to take it last night, but he said he was too tired.’

  ‘Too idle, more like,’ Sarah muttered. ‘Is it ready?’

  ‘Not exactly.’ Hannah nodded towards the pram standing in the far corner. ‘I was going to give it a going-over the other day but Pete said to leave it. Reckoned he was going to respray it.’

  ‘Christ!’ Sarah hissed. It was a mess, the seat stained with two years’ worth of glop that Hannah’s youngest had spilled on it, the silver framework in need of major surgery to repair the pits and scrapes. ‘How am I supposed to give it to her like that?’

  ‘Stop panicking.’ Hannah opened the sink cupboard and pulled out a small tub of cleaning equipment. ‘It won’t take long to put right.’

  ‘You sure you’ve got the time?’ Sarah asked, catching the cloth Hannah threw to her. ‘I don’t want to ruin your day as well.’

  Pulling a face as she gave her own cloth a sharp flick to free it of any bugs that might have been nesting in it, Hannah said, ‘Steve’s done that already, love, being his usual wanker self. You know where they were last night, don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Sarah muttered. ‘The bloody pub on a lock-in – again.’

  Glancing back at the living-room door, Hannah said, ‘No, they weren’t.’

  ‘Oh?’ Sarah frowned. ‘You know something I don’t?’

  ‘Only that they spent about half an hour in total at the pub,’ Hannah said, so quietly that Sarah had to strain to hear. ‘After that, they went on a club crawl. You’ll never guess where they ended up.’