‘That’s Hayley’s mum,’ he said, peering out through the side window when Shirley pulled over. ‘At least, I think it is,’ he added, a little less certain now that he could see her more clearly. He’d only met her once, but he was sure she hadn’t been as skinny or gaunt-looking as this woman.
‘Go and ask,’ Shirley urged. ‘If it’s not her, she might still know where they live.’
Jeff nodded and unbuckled his seat belt.
Kathy had put her bags down and was about to slot her key into her front door when she heard her name being called. She turned her head and squinted at the man who was walking quickly across the road. Then, a wary look leaping into her eyes when she recognised him, she asked, ‘What do you want?’
Jeff could see now that he had got the right woman, but she looked even worse up close; her cheeks were sunken and the bags under her eyes were dark and deep, as if she hadn’t slept in weeks.
‘Sorry if this is a bad time,’ he said, a little thrown by her frostiness considering how nice she’d been when she had called round to his place that time. ‘I just wondered if I could have a quick word with Hayley.’
‘Absolutely not.’ Kathy opened the door and reached for her bags.
‘It won’t take a minute,’ Jeff promised.
‘I said no,’ spat Kathy, tossing the bags into the hall and then turning back to glare at him. ‘You’ve got a damn nerve coming round here.’
‘You told me to call round if I ever needed anything,’ Jeff reminded her, guessing that she must have heard the rumours about him and Andrea since their last meeting. ‘I just need to ask Hayley if she’s been talking to Skye on some chat room, and if she knows her password. Please, love, it’s really important.’
‘Are you deaf?’ Kathy snapped. ‘Just go away, and don’t come near me or my family again.’
‘Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard,’ Jeff said when she stepped inside the house. ‘But it’s not true.’
‘Oh, really?’ Kathy crossed her arms. ‘So the police were lying when they said they’re investigating you for abusing Skye, were they?’
Furious to hear this, and guessing that it was Jones’s doing, Jeff’s nostrils flared. ‘He had no right to say any of that stuff to you.’
‘So you’re not under investigation?’ Kathy raised an eyebrow and waited for him to answer. When he didn’t, she gave a snort of disgust. ‘And to think I actually felt sorry for you.’
‘Wait!’ Jeff reached out and pushed the door back when she tried to close it.
‘Remove your hand right now or I’ll call the police,’ Kathy squawked, genuine fear in her voice now.
‘Just hear me out first,’ Jeff implored, gazing up at her. ‘I know you’ve probably already decided that I’m guilty, but I swear on my life I’ve never laid a finger on Skye. She’s my daughter, and I’m worried sick about her, so please just let me ask Hayley if she knows where she is. Or you ask her if you don’t want me to see her. Please, I’m begging you: just do this one thing for me, and I swear I’ll never bother you again.’
A flicker of uncertainty flashed through Kathy’s eyes. Jeff saw it and hoped that he’d got through to her. But she shook her head after a moment, and said, ‘I’m sorry, but Hayley was really upset when the police questioned her and I can’t put her through that again.’
‘The police questioned her?’ Jeff repeated, a sickly feeling of dread stirring in his stomach. ‘About what?’
Kathy didn’t answer this. Instead, her eyes now glittering with tears, she said, ‘Look, I don’t know if you’re lying, but if you are innocent I’m sure you’ll be able to prove it without involving us and ruining what little time we’ve got left.’
When Jeff gazed blankly back at her, her chin started to quiver and her shoulders seemed to fold in on her.
‘I’m only telling you this so that you’ll understand the damage you’ll be doing if you insist on coming back,’ Kathy said quietly. ‘Hayley’s got leukaemia. We only found out a couple of weeks ago, and the consultant doesn’t think she’s strong enough for treatment, so we’re not sure how long we’ve got left with her.’
‘Oh, jeezus.’ Jeff instinctively reached out to touch her arm. ‘I’m so sorry, love. I had no idea.’
‘Don’t!’ Kathy sobbed as the tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry I can’t help you, and I really hope that Skye turns up soon. But I can’t let our last days with Hayley be tainted by this, so please just respect my wishes and stay away from us.’
Shocked and saddened by what he’d heard, Jeff shoved his hands into his pockets when she slammed the door shut. He made his way back to the car.
‘What’s wrong?’ Shirley asked, instantly concerned when she saw his gloomy expression. ‘What did she say?’
Jeff didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He just sat in stunned silence for several long moments. Then, his voice hoarse, he said, ‘Can we go home, please?’
Shirley didn’t hesitate; she put the car into gear and drove back the way they had come.
Already concerned, because he had clearly been disturbed by whatever that woman had said to him, she was even more so when he went straight into the bathroom when they got back to the flat and she thought she heard him crying. She didn’t want to pry but this was the first time she had ever seen him this upset, and it broke her heart to see him so defeated.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked, still waiting in the hall when he came out some time later.
‘Not really,’ Jeff muttered, embarrassed that she’d witnessed him breaking down like that. ‘I think I just need to be on my own for a bit. Sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise,’ Shirley said softly. ‘Take as long as you need. I’ll still be here when you’re ready to talk.’
Dark eyes filled with pain, Jeff gazed at her and said, ‘You’re a good woman, Shirley, and you’ll never know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I just wish …’
Shirley held her breath and waited for him to go on. But when he gave her a sad smile and then walked into his room, she sighed and went into her own room. There, deep in thought, she lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She wished she could find a way to help him out of this mess, but she just didn’t know where to start. The officers who had called round earlier had made it blatantly clear that they thought he was guilty, and she already knew that the idiots at work thought the same. And if that woman’s reaction to seeing him just now was anything to go by, the rumour mill was obviously running at full throttle.
It was so unfair, and Jeff didn’t deserve any of it, but there was nothing she could say or do to show them what a huge mistake they were all making.
In the next room, Jeff was also lying on his bed, his mind reeling as he tried to make sense of everything. He couldn’t understand why Andrea was doing this to him after he’d supported her through numerous breakdowns and suffered years of misery, never knowing what mood she would be in when he got home from work or what accusation she would throw at him next. Her own family had long ago washed their hands of her, as had any friend she’d ever managed to make, but he had stood by her the whole way, and this was how she repaid him – by accusing him of abusing their daughter. And the police might not have specified the nature of this so-called abuse, but he was no fool; he knew they meant sexual – and the very thought sickened him to his stomach.
‘Skye, where are you?’ he moaned as a tear trickled slowly down his cheek. ‘Please come home, baby; you’re my only hope.’
14
‘I’m sorry.’ Skye trailed miserably behind Tom as he strode into the kitchen. ‘I didn’t know it was special.’
‘Stop whining!’ he snapped, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. ‘I hate it when you do that.’
‘Sorry,’ she murmured, modifying her tone so he wouldn’t shout at her again as she perched on a chair and slotted her hands between her knees to keep them from doing any more damage. ‘If you get some glue while you’re out, I’ll try
and fix it.’
‘Forget it.’ Tom picked his keys up from the ledge and unlocked the door. Flashing an unimpressed look back at her, he said, ‘Do something about your hair while I’m out.’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know? Cut it, or something.’
‘Short?’ Skye was horrified.
‘I don’t care, as long as it looks better than that when I get back,’ Tom sniped. ‘You’re going to make me go off you if you don’t start making an effort. Is that what you want?’
Skye shook her head and sniffed back the tears that were stinging her eyes. Her shoulders sagged when he walked out, relocking the door behind him. It was three weeks since he had proposed, and he still hadn’t forgiven her for what he called her ungrateful response. Hurt that she’d thrown his love back in his face after he had opened his home and his heart to her, he’d taken back the engagement ring, telling her that she couldn’t have it back until she had proved she was worthy to wear it. And she had been trying really, really hard ever since, but nothing seemed good enough – not even when she let him do bottom sex without crying all the way through. But now she’d broken the vase that he said he’d inherited off his dead grandmother, he would probably never forgive her.
When Bernie came and sat beside her, she gave him a sad smile and stroked his head, murmuring, ‘At least you still love me. But I can’t take you out, if that’s what you’re after. He might come back, and then I really will be in trouble.’
Skye got up when Bernie slinked back to his blanket, and took the scissors out of the drawer. There was no way she was cutting her hair short, because she didn’t want to end up looking like a boy, but she supposed a trim wouldn’t hurt. It would help if she had some shampoo, because she’d been washing her hair with soap and washing-up liquid since the last bottle ran out, and it made her already fine hair look even more limp and straggly. But Tom was refusing to buy her anything at the moment, because he said she’d taken his generosity for granted and needed to be taught a lesson.
She didn’t blame him, because he had been really good to her when she first moved in and she had held herself back from really opening up to him. His coldness towards her these last few weeks had given her a serious reality check, and she’d have given anything to have the nice Tom back. Even the prospect of getting married no longer scared her, because it was infinitely preferable to the thought of spending the rest of her life in prison – which, Tom had been reminding her every day, was where she was going to end up if she didn’t buck up.
Determined not to let it come to that, Skye went upstairs to try and make herself look more presentable for when he got home. And then she would make him a special dinner, she decided: to show him what a good wife she would be if he could only find it in his heart to forgive her.
Tom was smiling as he drove into Manchester after leaving the house. Skye didn’t know if she was coming or going since he’d started punishing her for her bad attitude, and it was good to see her struggle because girls like her, with their pretty faces and innate sense of entitlement, had taken the piss out of him during his entire life. She had been jumping through hoops to win back his affection these last few weeks, and he had thoroughly enjoyed watching her go through the wringer. But with every victory came a loss, and his was that he no longer felt quite the same level of excitement he’d felt when he was first trying to woo her. Now she was his, body and soul, he needed a new source of entertainment; a new challenge.
The MOT stations and garages that were situated in the old railway arches beneath the Mancunian Way flyover were all closed on Sundays, and that made it the perfect spot for prostitutes and drug dealers to ply their trades. Tom would never have dared to walk through there on foot, and if his car had been even semi-decent he’d have thought twice about driving through there, too. But his clapped-out old Vectra hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention on his previous visits so he wasn’t too worried about parking up there now.
A group of hooded youths were gathered at the far end of the street. They hadn’t spotted him because it was already starting to get dark by then and his car was concealed behind a row of industrial skips. If they did see him and made a move, he would reverse out the way he’d come and make a quick getaway. But, until then, he was happy just to sit and wait.
And he didn’t have to wait too long. Less than half an hour after he’d parked up, a girl came shuffling round the corner and Tom sank lower in his seat to watch as, arms folded over her skinny stomach, a ten-pound note clutched in her filthy hand, she headed towards the youths – exactly as she had done the last time he’d seen her, a week earlier.
She had caught his attention that time because of her similarity to Skye. Both blonde, slim and of average height, they could have been sisters; although this girl looked a little younger, maybe thirteen or fourteen. And, unlike Skye who had an air of innocence about her, this girl looked what Tom could only describe as feral: as if she’d been born on the streets, and had never seen, never mind used, a bathtub or a washing machine.
As he’d seen her do the previous time, the girl approached the youths and handed her money over in exchange for something that Tom couldn’t see from this distance. But then, he didn’t need to see it to know that it was drugs. And, given the low price, and her unkempt appearance, he’d hazard a guess that it was either heroin or crack.
After doing her deal, the girl walked quickly back up the road towards him. But this time, instead of going off around the corner as she had done the last time, she ducked into a set-back doorway and settled herself in the corner.
Close enough to see that her hands were shaking, and her skinny legs trembling beneath her baggy camouflage trousers, Tom watched as she carefully opened the wrap she’d just bought. For such a young girl, she was in a bad way and even if he hadn’t witnessed the score he’d have known that she was a junkie.
She took a small blackened piece of silver foil out of her jacket pocket now, and Tom watched as she tipped the contents of the wrap onto it with an expression of intense concentration on her pinched little face. Then, slotting a rolled-up piece of paper between her lips, she flicked a lighter to life beneath the foil and sucked on the smoke that rose from it.
She repeated the process several times, turning the foil around and around in order to get every last bit. Tom watched in fascination as her whole body seemed to sag – her legs sliding out in front of her, her chin falling forward onto her chest. She looked like a little rag doll, and if anyone had found her and decided to attack her she would have been absolutely helpless to defend herself.
He flicked a glance back along the road after a while and felt a little thrill of excitement in his gut when he saw that the youths had gone. As, too, had the older prostitute who had been leaning against the wall a little further down from them when he had first arrived. Apart from him and the girl, the area was now deserted. It was time to make his move.
Chloe Lester wasn’t so far gone that she couldn’t hear footsteps, and she gazed groggily up when a shadow fell across her face.
‘Whaddaya want?’ she slurred at the grinning man who was standing over her.
‘Depends what you’re offering,’ Tom said, squatting down beside her.
‘Shop’s shut,’ she said, her voice whispery, her eyes rolling as she struggled to keep them open. ‘Come back in half an hour.’
‘That’s too long,’ said Tom. ‘I need it now. How much?’
When he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and took out two twenty-pound notes, Chloe forced herself to sit up a little straighter.
‘What you after?’ she asked, her gaze riveted to the money.
‘Whatever I can get,’ he replied. ‘But not here.’ He leaned back and glanced both ways along the road to make sure they were still alone. ‘You’ll have to come in the car.’
Chloe didn’t usually get into cars. But then, she didn’t usually come across men who had this much cash to splash.
‘Okay,’ she agree
d. ‘But I want dropping back here after we’re finished.’
‘Of course.’
Tom stood up and offered his hand to help her to her feet, but she shunned it and got up on her own.
‘Where’s the car, then?’
‘Just over here.’ Tom jerked his head at her to follow, and quickly made his way across the road.
Skye felt very proud of herself as she put the spaghetti Bolognese into the oven to keep warm. She’d never made anything more complicated than beans on toast before moving in here, so it was a real achievement to have made this meal from scratch and she couldn’t wait to see what Tom thought of it when he got home. If that didn’t show him how much of an effort she was making, nothing would.
She had just finished washing the pots when she heard his car pull up outside. Quickly drying her hands, she smoothed her freshly washed and trimmed hair and turned to face the door with a smile on her lips. But it slid straight off when Tom walked in and she saw that he wasn’t alone.
‘This is Chloe,’ he said, ushering the girl into the kitchen. ‘She’s in a bit of trouble, so I said she could stay with us for a while.’
Skye gaped at him in disbelief, wondering why he had brought someone here when he knew what would happen if she got recognised. Didn’t he care that she could end up in prison for life?
‘She needs a bath and something to eat,’ Tom was saying now, seemingly unaware of Skye’s distress. ‘And you’ll have to give her something of yours to wear while you wash her clothes.’
Skye flicked a glance at the girl as he spoke. Her grubby clothes looked far too big for her, and her trainers were practically falling apart on her feet.
‘Have you been cooking?’ Tom asked, sniffing the air as he slipped his jacket off and looped it over the back of a chair. ‘What is it?’
‘Spaghetti Bolognese,’ Skye told him, still warily eying the girl.
‘Really?’ Tom raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m impressed. Is there enough for three?’
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