The Charmer

by Mandasue Heller

  ‘No way!’ Maria muttered numbly.

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Vicky nodded. ‘The sneaky bastard had got in there first, you see – told her I’d been flashing my tits at him. She actually thought I’d been trying to seduce him – can you believe that?’ Shaking her head, she took another deep drag on the cigarette. ‘I was just lucky she was too skint to get properly pissed the night she caught him, or I don’t think she’d have believed she’d really seen it.’

  Maria was furious that her friend had suffered like that. She’d known that Brian was a groper – that he’d touched Vicky up and forced her to touch him. But she’d never have guessed that he would progress to rape. She’d always thought of him as pathetic rather than sinister.

  ‘What did your mum do?’ she asked.

  ‘Kicked the living crap out of him,’ Vicky said with a vindictive chuckle. ‘Dragged him out onto the landing by his hair and battered him senseless in front of all the neighbours. Christ, I’d always known she was hard, but even I was shocked. She’s a maniac when she gets going.’

  ‘I wish I’d been there to see that.’

  ‘Me too – you’d have loved it. And me and our Davy got a few good kicks in, as well – payback for all the shit.’

  ‘Good for you. So, what did the police do when you told them? I hope they sent him down?’

  ‘Behave!’ Vicky snorted, drawing her head back. ‘We couldn’t have the pigs in the house with all the bent gear we had stashed there. It would have been us getting nicked, not him.’

  ‘Good point,’ Maria conceded, smiling at the memory.

  Vicky’s house had been the place for stashing knock-off gear on the Merrydown. All the local lads had used it as a temporary drop-off for the car stereos, briefcases and wallets they’d just nicked. And their mothers brought the VCRs, CD players and TVs they’d ordered from the catalogue and reported as undelivered. But it was the local dealers who were Vicky’s mum’s most hush-hush ‘clients’ – dropping their mysterious packages off with threats of what would happen if anyone found out. It was the worst-kept secret on the estate, but Vicky’s mum had accommodated anyone and everyone, hiding gear in the kids’ wardrobes and under their beds for the price of some weed or a cut of the profits.

  ‘All that stopped once Keith moved in,’ Vicky said reflectively. ‘Which was great, ’cos it was a real pain having dodgy knob-heads rooting round in the bedroom at all hours. The dealers wouldn’t come near once they knew he was on the scene, ’cos he was a proper maniac. But he treated us all right.’

  ‘So how come your mum got rid of his baby?’

  ‘’Cos he was schizophrenic and she was scared the kid would be the same. That’s why she wanted me to get rid of mine. She was convinced it was going to be deformed, or mental, or something.’

  Maria frowned. ‘So Keith was your baby’s dad, as well?’

  ‘No, he bloody well wasn’t!’ Vicky squawked indignantly. ‘Jeezus, Maria – what d’y’ take me for?’

  ‘I didn’t mean it badly,’ Maria said apologetically. ‘It’s just with Brian doing what he did, I didn’t know if this Keith – you know.’

  ‘No, he didn’t,’ Vicky informed her frostily. ‘Luke’s dad was a lad from a few doors down.’

  ‘Not Jimmy Platt?’ Maria gasped, remembering Skinny Jimmy all too well. The gang had voted him the ugliest divvy on the planet – and Frankie Stokes the one they all wanted to be their first. ‘Please don’t tell me you went with him?’

  ‘Do I look desperate?’ Vicky snorted. ‘Christ, he’d have been worse than Keith!’ Grimacing, she gave an exaggerated shudder. ‘No, it was a lad called Carl Hanson who moved up here from Rochdale about a year after you’d gone. He was drop-dead gorgeous,’ she admitted reluctantly. ‘But the bastard didn’t half know it. I still can’t get over what an idiot I was for believing him when he said he loved me, but you fall for any crap when you’re a kid, don’t you? Soon as I told him I’d missed my period he turned into a complete wanker – called me a slag, and said it wasn’t his. Our Davy kicked his head right in for that.’

  ‘Little Davy?’ Maria exclaimed. ‘You’re joking!’

  ‘Not so little by then.’ Vicky smiled fondly. ‘He shot up after you left; you wouldn’t recognise him now. He was only twelve when Carl did the dirty, but he was already bigger than him. And it did the job, ’cos I never saw the bastard again. His lying bitch of a mother tried telling us he’d gone to work on the oil rigs with his dad, but we found out he’d gone back to the Dale and shacked up with some old tart.’

  ‘I hope you made him pay for the baby?’ Maria said indignantly.

  ‘I’ve never asked him for a penny, and I never will.’ Vicky pursed her lips stubbornly. ‘No one’s ever going to say I owe them – not my mum, not the dole, and certainly not Carl Hanson!’

  Suitably chastened, Maria gave a thin smile, and moved onto what she hoped was safer ground. ‘What about the others? Do their dads help out?’

  ‘Dad,’ Vicky corrected her coolly. ‘They’re all by the same one. And yes, he does help, thanks. We’re very happy together.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Maria winced. ‘I just thought—’

  ‘That I was a slag?’ Vicky raised a challenging eyebrow. ‘New one in at the front before the old one’s out the back?’

  ‘God, no!’

  Picking up on the invisible wall of tension that was rising between his mum and her friend Tyrell started to grizzle. Sighing, Vicky stubbed her cigarette out and went to get him. Bringing him back to the couch, she pulled a changing mat out from under the coffee table and laid him down on it.

  ‘Sorry for snapping,’ she said, taking Tyrell’s nappy off and pulling a wet-wipe out of the tub. ‘But people seem to think we do nothing but lounge around popping babies and scrounging off the dole round here. And we’re not all like that – as you should know. Your mum was claiming while she was working, but you wouldn’t have thought badly of her for it, ’cos she was decent. Well, so are me and Leroy.’ Glancing up, she gave Maria a cool look. ‘Only we don’t claim anything, because we both work.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Maria murmured guiltily. ‘I really didn’t mean to insult you.’

  Sighing, Vicky shook her head. ‘Forget it.’

  Turning her attention back to the baby, she cleaned him up and put another nappy on him with the quick, economical movements of one who has done it many, many times. Then she cleared everything away and stood up.

  ‘I’ve got to take him to playgroup in a minute,’ she said, carrying the soiled nappy to the bin. ‘You can come with me, if you want. Or you’re welcome to stop here if you don’t fancy it. I’ll only be an hour.’

  ‘Thanks, but I think I’d best get back to the hotel,’ Maria said, checking the time. ‘It’s getting late.’

  ‘Are you sure? Leroy should be home soon, and I know he’d like to meet you. I’ve told him enough about you.’

  ‘No, honestly, I can’t.’ Reaching for her jacket, Maria slipped it on. ‘I’ve still got loads to do. And I haven’t even packed yet.’

  Showing her out, Vicky felt a bit guilty. She’d been so pleased to see Maria, but they’d managed to rub each other up the wrong way in no time, and now it felt awkward – which was a shame, considering they’d been such good mates once.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to chill out and really catch up,’ she said. ‘But it’s kind of hard to relax when you’ve got a head full of kids’ schedules.’

  ‘I understand that,’ Maria said, zipping up her jacket. ‘You should see how wound-up some of the mums at my school get. There’s one that never picks her kid up on time. She acts like it’s an after-school club, or something. And she’s such a bitch if you say anything.’

  ‘That’s what having kids does to you,’ Vicky said. ‘I can be a super-bitch when I get going. Anyway, you’ll have to let me know when you’re coming back,’ she said then. ‘I’ll get Leroy to babysit and we’ll go out for a drink – just the two of us.’

&
nbsp; ‘Sounds great,’ Maria said, relieved that they were ending on a more positive note. ‘But I won’t make any definite plans right now, if you don’t mind. I wouldn’t want to arrange something and then let you down.’

  ‘No pressure.’ Shifting Tyrell onto her other hip, Vicky reached for the pen and pad on the telephone table. Scribbling her number down, she handed it to Maria. ‘Just give me a ring when you get time. We’ll take it from there.’

  Closing the door when Maria had gone, Vicky sighed wearily. Far from being envious of her friend’s great new life by the sea, she thought it a bit sad that Maria had changed so much. And it wasn’t just the posher accent that marked how far removed she was from her roots, it was everything – from the nice, neat middle-class clothes, to the way she walked with her nose in the air, to the way she sat with her teacup on her knee, as if she was visiting a spinster aunt and had to be on her best behaviour or something.

  Scolding herself for thinking like that, Vicky reminded herself that they hadn’t seen each other for years, and that this was her territory, so Maria was bound to feel awkward. It would be different when Maria called from the comfort of her own surroundings. They would chat about everything and everybody, and soon be back to how they used to be.

  And if not – oh, well . . . Vicky had better things to do than worry about the past.

  Clattering down the stairs, Maria shoved the heavy door open and fell out into the fresh air. She felt guilty and sad all at once, but she only had herself to blame. She should have listened to her instincts and gone straight back to the hotel instead of waltzing into Vicky’s life like Lady Muck – going on about horse-riding and beach parties, when Vicky was scraping by on a cleaner’s wage with four kids to feed. It was a good job that she hadn’t mentioned the inheritance – that really would have been like pouring salt into the wound.

  Walking quickly out to the main road, Maria hailed a passing cab. She couldn’t really afford it, but she’d stayed at Vicky’s way longer than she should have and there was only an hour left before she was due at the solicitor’s. Anyway, she didn’t know if she could handle being stuck on a bus right now; she was starting to get another headache.

  She couldn’t wait till this was over and she could go home and get her life back on track. She just hoped Nigel Grayson didn’t try to change her mind when she told him what she was planning, because she didn’t know if she could stop herself being horrible to him right now.

  8

  Hearing the street door closing, Adam glanced up in time to see Nigel stride across reception with a less than happy expression on his face. Given that he’d just been holed up in his office with the gorgeous little rich girl for the best part of an hour, he should have been happy as Larry.

  Wandering into the doorway, he leaned casually against the frame, watching as Nigel jabbed viciously at the buttons on the coffee machine.

  ‘Let me guess,’ he drawled, folding his arms. ‘She knocked you back.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Nigel snapped, wrenching the over-full cup out of the slot and wincing when hot liquid slopped onto the back of his hand. ‘How many times do I have to tell you – she is a client.’

  ‘If you say so.’ Curious to know what had got Nigel so het up, Adam followed him into his office and sat down on the corner of the desk. ‘So what was it?’ he asked. ‘Already got a boyfriend?’

  ‘None of my business if she has.’ Irritably waving at him to get off the desk, Nigel slumped down heavily in his chair.

  ‘Something must have happened,’ Adam persisted, straddling the visitor’s chair, which still felt warm from Maria’s bum. ‘You look like you’ve got a right cob on.’

  ‘Will you mind your own bloody business!’ Nigel snapped.

  ‘Oi!’ Drawing his head back, Adam frowned. ‘I’m only trying to help.’

  Sighing heavily, Nigel flopped his head back and ran a hand over his eyes. ‘Yeah, I know. Sorry. I’ve had a bloody awful afternoon.’

  ‘What happened?’ Adam folded his arms, eager to hear the latest instalment of the Cinderella saga.

  ‘Everything was going well, then I did my usual wrecking-crew job,’ Nigel said, joining his hands together behind his head. ‘She was a bit off when she called this morning and asked me to take her to the house, but she was all right when we got there. Then, when I was bringing her back to town, I made the mistake of taking a short cut past the Merrydown Estate.’

  ‘And?’ Adam shrugged, unaware of the significance.

  ‘And,’ Nigel explained glumly, ‘that’s where she was born. Where she was living when her mum was killed.’

  ‘Ah . . .’

  ‘Yes, ah. Anyway, she wanted to get out of the car and take a walk around, and I acted like it was a subdivision of Hell, or something.’

  ‘I see,’ Adam said, chuckling. ‘So, she wants to take a look at her old home, and you make out like she’s trailer trash?’

  ‘Okay! There’s no need to rub it in.’ Nigel shot him an irritated glance. ‘Anyway, then she came in this afternoon to sign all the papers, and comes right out and asks how soon she can put the house on the market.’

  ‘She wants to sell?’

  ‘Uh huh,’ Nigel nodded slowly. ‘And it’s odd, you know, because I really thought she liked the old place. She got that look in her eye when she was walking round – like she’d really connected with it.’ Pausing, he sighed heavily. ‘She was obviously just pricing it up.’

  ‘I thought you were going to show her the accounts for the Evans place,’ Adam said. ‘She’d have to be impressed by them. She could earn a fortune if she had the same kind of set-up.’

  ‘What do you think I’ve been telling her for the past hour?’ Nigel said despondently. ‘She’s not interested. And, worse than that, she said she no longer requires my services. I’m dumped.’

  Adam’s frown deepened. ‘And you’re giving up that easily? Come on, man. Your uncle dealt with that estate for years. He loved it – you love it. Hell, I love it, and I haven’t even seen it. You’ve got to persuade her to keep it with us.’

  ‘Don’t you think I would if I could?’ Groaning, Nigel ran his hands through his hair. ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, what’s wrong with me? It’s got absolutely nothing to do with me what she decides to do with her own house. She can put a flaming bomb under it and blow it to kingdom come if she feels like it!’

  ‘It’s not like you to get so tetchy,’ Adam said, giving him a concerned look. ‘Why don’t you take a couple of steps back from all this and chill, man?’

  ‘I can’t chill!’ Nigel retorted irritably. ‘That’s the bloody problem. I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s like I’m possessed, or something.’

  ‘Right,’ Adam said, slapping a hand down on the desk. ‘So, what have you done about it? Have you said anything to her?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Nigel retorted, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks. ‘And I’m not going to,’ he added firmly.

  ‘Well, hallelujah!’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Look, I know I take the piss,’ Adam said. ‘But I actually think you’re doing the right thing – and I respect you for sticking to your principles.’

  ‘For what they’re worth,’ Nigel grunted.

  ‘They’re worth it to you,’ Adam reminded him. ‘Know what you need, mate? . . . One of your own kind.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, right!’ Nigel gave an unenthusiastic snort. ‘Because there are so many good-looking single female solicitors in Manchester.’

  ‘There’s always next month’s convention. They’ll be flooding in from all over.’

  ‘In their smart little power suits, with cast-iron shoulder pads and solid steel knickers.’ Nigel shuddered. ‘No, thanks.’

  Shrugging, Adam said, ‘So do what the rest of us do and get yourself down to a nightclub.’

  ‘Don’t think it’s really my scene, somehow.’

  ‘Dating agency, then?’

  ‘Don’t even g
o there!’

  Reaching for his cooling coffee, Nigel drank it in one and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Sitting up straighter, he rolled his head on his neck, making a concerted effort to shake himself out of the doldrums.

  ‘Look, don’t worry about me. This stuff with Maria Price is just a minor glitch in an otherwise sensible life. I’ll be back to normal in a day or two – you’ll see.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘I do. So, thanks for the pep talk, but I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.’

  ‘I have, as it happens.’ Adam rubbed at his jaw. ‘I’ve got a date with the dentist in exactly ten minutes.’

  ‘Not that same tooth again? I thought they’d fixed that?’

  ‘So did I, but they obviously missed something,’ Adam grumbled. ‘Anyway, are you sure you’ll be all right if I take off? Miles and Jimbo are out. You’ll be on your own with what’s-her-name on reception.’

  ‘I’m sure that Heather and I will be fine,’ Nigel assured him, smiling at Adam’s inability to remember the receptionist’s name. The poor girl obviously wasn’t attractive enough to register in the little black book that was his mind. ‘Just do yourself a favour and get them to pull the tooth this time, eh? You could have bought a car with the money they’ve had off you this year. I’d get a new one if I was you.’

  ‘Car?’

  ‘Dentist.’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ Adam agreed. ‘But what can I do?’ He gave a mock-modest shrug. ‘The hygienist loves me – and she’s got this sucking action to die for.’

  Shaking his head, Nigel said, ‘Yeah, whatever.’ Then, ‘Will you be coming back when you’re done?’

  ‘Wasn’t planning on it.’ Adam rubbed his jaw again. ‘Might be a bit out of it when they’ve zapped me. Why, what’s up?’

  ‘I’m looking round an apartment on the Locks,’ Nigel told him. ‘I was going to ask if you’d come along and give your opinion.’