by KERRY BARNES
She tiptoed over to his bedside to see the large bottle of sleeping pills on the cabinet. Beside it was an opened bottle of whisky, an ashtray with half a smoked cigarette, and one of his flash square lighters with a nude woman engraved on it. She stared at his round, swollen face. The gruesome wound, it appeared, had now become infected. She smiled, gripping the carving knife which she had spent hours sharpening. He stopped snoring so abruptly she snapped out of her trance. She held the blade to his neck, ready to slice from ear to ear. Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist and opened his eyes. His fingers were not healed but he still had the strength to clench her tight. She gasped in horror as his corpse-like face glared back at her. She tried to tug free. However, he continued to hold on to her, pulling her close to him. His breath reeked of anaesthetic and sour milk. She wasn’t afraid. She was too racked with grief to feel fear. As she pulled her face away, she smirked. His grip loosened as he watched the demonic expression on his wife’s face. He had neither the strength nor the will power to fight. He knew he was going to die. Suddenly, her plan changed. She didn’t want him to have a quick death. She took hold of the whisky bottle, poured it over the bed and onto the floor, and then she flicked the lid off the lighter. His eyes widened when he realised his demise was to be by a naked flame. In desperation, he tried to move up the bed.
“Please, Ce, please, don’t do this.” His voice was meek and desperate. She held his life in her hands, enjoying his frantic pleas. “Tell me who shot Johnnie?” she demanded.
“Wait, wait, I’ll tell you, just don’t this!” he begged in despair.
Raising her eyebrow, she shouted, “Go on, Kenneth, who pulled the fucking trigger?”
“Grant Smith! It was Grant Smith!” he cried.
She looked at the local newspaper lying by his side and laughed, wondering what tomorrow’s headline would be. She ignited the old Zippo lighter, allowing it to fall onto the whisky-soaked newspaper, and stepped back. She wanted to see her husband one last time, in agonising pain, and then she would be able to keep that image in her mind to console herself.
She didn’t run out of the house right away, as she was too concerned he would survive. His screams were high-pitched but short. The sedatives had made him drowsy and the broken bones made him weak. She felt the heat from outside the door. The hissing and crackling began to subside. She was annoyed. He was supposed to burn to death. She would have to go back and slit his throat this time. The flames had died down when she opened the door. They hadn’t managed to set fire to the plastered walls or the bedside cabinets – only the bed. She was surprised to discover that only the bed clothes and his pyjamas had caught alight, but it had been enough to kill him. The smell of cooking flesh made her gag. The fire had obviously taken a hold of the newspaper and the sheets and then contained itself within the bed. But, importantly, the fire alarm didn’t go off and the windows didn’t smash.
She closed the door and casually walked down the stairs, out of the house, and into the cold night air. It was so quiet and peaceful. She slowly clambered into Johnnie’s car and looked up at the house. It appeared exactly the same. No one would have known. They were probably all tucked up in their beds asleep. She searched her handbag for her phone, which she had left on the passenger seat, and dialled Dan’s number.
“Grant Smith shot my Johnnie!” She wasn’t ready for a conversation so she switched off the phone. The only person she wanted to talk to was Johnnie.
“There you go, Johnnie, you can deal with him up there.”
Celia drove back to the flat, where she had deliberately left the lights and heating on. She assumed the pain of losing her man would go once she had avenged his killer – but it was still there. Only her anger subsided.
It took only a day before the news spread. Maureen had been the one who had found him dead. The sight of his half-burnt body, and contorted expression, had left her disturbed and in need of sedatives for post-traumatic stress disorder. Nigel was present when the coroner made his report. He had concluded that Kenneth died because of a massive heart attack brought on by the accidental fire. The whisky, the cigarette, and his limited use of his hands had in all probability led to the bed catching alight.
Once Dan heard the gossip, he rushed to Johnnie’s flat to see Celia.
She opened the door, expecting to see the police, but was relieved it was Dan.
She smiled. “Come in, love.”
“I heard that Kenneth died. They believe it was a heart attack. The silly old cunt set himself alight, pissed or something.”
She laughed. “Word got around then?”
“Yeah, thanks for the tip off. That Grant Smith is one ‘orrible piece of work.”
“Is he…” Celia had to know, but was unsure if she could ask.
“Dead? Oh yeah. Well and fucking truly dead. Word has it he was messing with some hard core drug dealers. They found his body shoved in the boot of his car. The whole thing was burnt out. No need for a cremation now, eh?” He sniggered.
Celia smiled and nodded.
“How are you doing, anyway?” Dan asked.
She looked down. “To tell ya the truth, I am lost, lonely and, if I polish this flat one more time, there will be no paint left.” They sat and had a large glass of brandy together.
“You’re the first person I have actually spoken with. I need to keep busy, find something to take my mind off it all.”
Dan gazed around the room. It was immaculate.
“Celia, you can always work with us. I need people around me I can trust. Any good at accounts?”
She smiled. “You know what, I gave up me little book keeping job when I married that wanker.”
He was surprised at how together she seemed but, then, Johnnie had remarked on what a tough cookie she was, underneath her fragile exterior.
“When you’re ready, give me a call or come to the club, and see if it’s what you fancy.”
Celia looked up and half-smiled. “It’s been a long while, so I’m a bit rusty.”
“It’s fine, you take your time.” He looked around the flat and for a second he sensed how lonely she must be.
“I tell you what. If you fancy getting out of here more often, I could always do with more staff behind the bar.”
She laughed, genuinely, for the first time since Johnnie’s death. “Johnnie told me how you only have the prettiest of girls in your club. I think I’m past me sell by date.”
“Nothing wrong with the way you look, babes. I need a more mature woman behind the jump to keep an eye on the youngsters. I’ve got Cassie, who is the manager, but she could do with a hand, I’m sure.”
Celia was beaming. She loved glitz and glamour and had envied Johnnie when he used to tell her of the dressed-up women, drinking champagne and dancing the night away. She had visualised it and only wished she was twenty years younger, but now she had the chance to be part of it. Her heart still ached and she was desperate to have something which would take her mind off her grief.
“I would love to, Dan. It would make me feel closer to Johnnie.”
He gave her a hug. “Come along tonight and I will introduce you to everyone, but, remember, if you are not up to it, don’t worry.”
Celia felt half human again. She had, at last, a reason to get up in the morning, and she was grateful.
Chapter Ten
Ruby had managed to pawn a vast amount of designer jewellery and raise three thousand pounds. Her father had no idea – and he wouldn’t know – what she’d had in the first place. She sold her handbags and raided her savings account and, all told, she had four and a half grand in cash.
Money had never been an issue. She had everything she wanted and more. This gift could save her mother’s life. Now she could honour her promise and make such a huge difference to the woman who gave birth to her.
She looked forward to seeing Jacob again, especially after their secret meeting on Wednesday. Not even her mother knew about that.
Today, she was going to look e
xtra special. She visualised Jesse’s face when she handed her the money. She would be ecstatic.
Her father was still in bed, Saturday morning, when Ruby got up. She scribbled a note saying she would be home late. Sam, who was used to Ruby going off with her mates and coming back late, thought nothing of it.
The wind bit into her cheeks, her eyes watered, and she cursed. It had taken her an hour to fix her makeup. But she was too near the station to turn back. People on the train looked her up and down, which unnerved her, and she gripped tightly the handbag containing the four and a half grand.
As she walked past the park she saw two small children playing. They were roughly three and four years old. She was surprised to see them alone but, the times she had been on the estate, she concluded it was just a way of life.
Jesse had been expecting Ruby and made sure she was up, washed and dressed. Any punters hanging around were pushed out of the door pretty sharply. She borrowed the neighbour’s vacuum cleaner and gave the flat a clean. She also bought new cups, cushions, a second hand rug, and put bright, pink curtains up at the window. She had to get new bits as well, because otherwise Ruby would smell a rat. Giving her some credit, her daughter couldn’t be that stupid – could she?
The biggest change which Ruby noticed was the fragrance. It was apples and cinnamon.
Jesse looked and smelled clean, her hair was tied back and she had makeup on. Ruby was surprised to see how different Jesse appeared.
“Come in, babes, look at you, all posh and pretty,” said Jesse, who actually wanted to say ‘come in, and leave me the money, then fuck off again’, but she had to play the game.
Ruby was pleased to find her mother had made such an effort and even agreed to have a cup of coffee, once she had spotted the cups.
She sat opposite her at the small table in the kitchen, “How have you been then, Mum? You look better.” Her voice was sweet and cheery.
Jesse forgot for a second. “Oh yeah, well I had a rough week, ya know, with the pain, but I’m much better for seeing you, my babe.”
Ruby was thinking of a good time to hand over the money, but she couldn’t contain herself. “Mum, you can go to America now!” She grinned from ear to ear. “I got you the cash!”
Trying to control her excitement, devoid of integrity, she blurted out, “How much?” to the surprise of Ruby, who hadn’t expected that type of reaction.
“Four thousand five hundred pounds.” She dragged the words out.
“Oh my God, four and a half grand!” screeched Jesse.
Ruby was nodding.
“Christ, girl, where did you stuff all that?” Jesse asked, staring at Ruby’s handbag.
Then, she realised she was focusing on the money too much.
“That’s so generous of you but, really, babe, I can’t take that off you,” she said, knowing full well that if Ruby had gone to those lengths to bring it here, she certainly wouldn’t take it back.
“Mum, it’s fine, it’s yours! It’s the least I can do.”
“Well, if you are sure, my darling, and you know, it will save my life!”
Jesse couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw the cash in Ruby’s handbag. She had never seen so much money in one lump sum. She shook with excitement. Once the money was in her hands, she wanted shot of Ruby. Her mental shopping list consisted of crack cocaine, skunk, and a few bottles of Jack Daniels to help her sleep at night. No more selling a few grams here and there to spotty teenagers to make ends meet, and no more quick fucks for a score. She was going to milk it, like taking candy from a baby. Inside, she was laughing. Perhaps she should have gone into acting.
Ruby didn’t want to stick around either as she wanted to see Jacob again.
“So, Mum, have you seen much of Jacob?” asked Ruby nonchalantly.
Jesse, still counting the stack of notes, replied. “Nah, not really, his girlfriend probably kept him in,” she laughed. “As soon as she lets him out, he don’t go home for days. Spends it here, sometimes.”
Ruby never knew he had a girlfriend. Her heart sank and she slumped back into the chair. “So he lives with her then, does he?”
Jesse looked up and grinned. “Oh, Ruby, sounds like you have a little crush there.”
Ruby didn’t answer. She sipped her coffee.
After realising what she had said, Jesse backtracked. If she could get her hands on over four grand in just a week, then more would follow. Jesse was determined she would be on the receiving end of all that money, but it would take more than a rekindled mother-daughter relationship. She had been young once, and an interest in boys always came first.
“Actually, babe, I remember Jacob split with his bird a while ago, and I do believe he has a soft spot for you. I heard him telling his mates he thought you were real eye candy.”
Ruby smiled. Her world lit up and she was dying to see him again.
“Here, babe, want a fag?” offered Jesse.
Ruby took it and puffed away like an old hand.
There was a knock at the door and hastily Jesse answered it. Ruby heard muffled voices and then the door closed. Just as Jesse went to resume drinking her coffee and puffing on her cigarette, the doorbell rang again. This time she headed for her bedroom and came back with a bag, handing it to the men outside. Ruby didn’t question it.
The final knock was Jacob, who swanned in, stoned. He kissed Ruby on the cheek and almost fell onto the chair. His jeans hung around his arse and he looked unusually scruffy.
“Hello, my little princess,” he said, to Ruby’s elation.
She nodded – acting cool.
He rolled a fat joint and lit the end, turning it around to look at it as he blew a smoke ring. Jesse grabbed it from him and sucked away.
“Cor, Jacs, this is good shit!” she said.
Ruby wanted to laugh. It was like listening to her mates.
Jacob passed the joint to Ruby, who in turn had a good drag but, unlike the other two, she instantly felt stoned. The spliff contained skunk, a very strong weed which, unless you were used to it, would blow your head off. Jesse laughed as her daughter slid off the chair onto the floor. Jacob, distinctly unimpressed with Ruby’s mum, quickly scooped her up, carried her to the living room and laid her onto the sofa.
“’Ere, Jacs, don’t let her throw up on me floor, for fuck’s sake!”
“All right, Jesse, she won’t be sick. She will come around in a minute,” he shouted back, but Ruby had heard everything.
“’Ello, Princess, had a bit too much of me special weed?” laughed Jacob.
Ruby was shaken and looked into the eyes of her mother, who was laughing. She jumped up and headed for the toilet to empty the contents of her stomach, which was even more embarrassing.
“I said she was gonna be sick. Lucky she woke up,” stated Jesse.
“Yeah, she might have choked,” replied Jacob, thinking of her health.
“No, I mean she could have chucked up all over me couch.”
Jacob glared at Jesse; he soon realised she had no feelings for Ruby at all. It was just as his Aunt Gloria had said.
Ruby stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes, trying to tidy herself up. She opened the cabinet with the cracked mirror, hoping to find toothpaste or a baby wipe to freshen up, but found only syringes and needles. Humiliated by the whole experience, though, she didn’t take much notice of the cabinet’s contents. After washing her face and sloshing water around her mouth, she reappeared, to see Jesse and Jacob still puffing away on a joint.
Jacob threw her a vodka pop. “’Ere, princess, drink this, and you will feel better.” She did as he said and sure enough she livened up. He patted the seat next to him and she slid over, while watching for a reaction from her mother. Jesse had no interest in her daughter’s antics and acted as if she was any of Jacobs’s girlfriends. He leaned over the side of the sofa and then he pulled up a bag. Inside, were a few more bottles of alcohol pops. “These are for you.”
Ruby smiled. “Thank you,” she whispe
red sweetly.
“I’m fucking starved. Anyone fancy fish and chips?” asked Jesse.
Ruby nodded. “Can I have chips please, Mum?”
Jesse shuddered. Her own daughter, so far removed from her, with her overly polite ways.
Jacob offered to collect them but Jesse insisted she would go.
As soon as she was out of the door, Jacob climbed on top of Ruby, kissing her. She responded with just as much passion. It wasn’t the first kiss. The Wednesday before, they had secretly met and had spent an afternoon snogging for hours. Tonight though, Jacob wanted more. He had laid out ten quid on a few drinks. In his world that meant a shag.
Jesse had been gone over an hour but Ruby hadn’t noticed the time – too engrossed in Jacob’s hands roaming all over her body and feeling his tongue searching inside her mouth. She knew he was going too far when his fingers crept under her clothes, gripping her breasts, but she liked him a lot. Most girls her age had moved beyond the kissing stage anyway.
As the door opened, Jacob jumped up and tidied himself, whilst Ruby tucked her shirt in her trousers and sat upright. The strong smell of chips filled the air, inducing the hunger pangs. Jesse plonked the chip bags onto the kitchen table and searched the drawers for knives and forks. She found two forks but only one knife, and all three needed to be washed up.
“I can eat mine with my fingers, don’t worry about me,” piped up Ruby, who could see there was a serious lack of cutlery. Jacob opened his wrapper and began munching straight away. Jesse looked preoccupied and just ignored her daughter. They all sat around the table, enjoying the fat, greasy chips, drenched in vinegar and covered in salt, sharing a saucer of tomato sauce to dip. Ruby smiled. Her home scene would have been so different. She visualised the scene: matching plates, on a highly polished table, with napkins and a condiment set.
Jesse was working out a way to send her daughter home without being too obvious, but the more she watched her, the more apparent it became that Ruby was besotted with Jacob. If he stayed around, then so would she. Jesse greedily shoved three fat chips into her mouth and ate with her mouth open, smacking her lips. Ruby was amazed at the lack of table manners. If she had dared to eat like that her dad would have removed her food. But, still, she oddly enjoyed the company. Her relationship with her mother was growing into a friendship.
