by Susan Lewis
‘So how are things?’ Lizzie asked, sliding into the passenger seat of Alex’s car. ‘I should warn you, I’ve had a crap morning so far, so if the Princes have got any ideas about messing me around they’re going to find themselves in a whole heap of trouble they won’t have bargained for.’
Alex’s eyebrows arched. ‘Let them be warned,’ she smiled.
‘Indeed. Did you hear yet whether that waste of space Shane is in custody?’
‘Yes, and I’m afraid he isn’t, which should spice things up a little.’ Alex was easing the car back into the traffic, and though she was making light of a possible encounter with Shane Prince, the prospect of having to deal with him as well as the mother and sister had given her a very poor night’s sleep. ‘I’ve just spoken to the police and they assure me there’s a patrol car in the area, so if there’s any trouble we just ring 999.’
Lizzie gave one of her famous scoffs. ‘Yeah, and they’s going to come running as fast as they fat little legs can carry ’em,’ she retorted. ‘But we’re going to do just fine without them, don’t you go worrying ’bout that.’
Taking heart from Lizzie’s confidence, Alex drove on along the dual carriageway and minutes later they were entering the estate. As they reached the Crowes’ sad-looking semi on Barton Street she pulled over and reached into the back for her bag. ‘I’ll just be a second,’ she said, ‘something I have to drop off,’ and going to ring on the bell which she doubted could be heard above the throb of loud music and shouts of male voices inside, she eyed the letter box, tempted to push her package through and run.
‘Who is it?’ Laura Crowe’s tobacco-coarsened voice yelled from behind the door.
‘Alex Lake from social services. I have something for Danny.’
The door opened as far as the chain would allow. ‘What is it?’ Laura demanded suspiciously.
‘A photograph his foster carers gave him. He left it behind.’ She wasn’t about to inform Laura that she’d assumed Danny had stolen it, since it wouldn’t do much to improve their friendship.
As Laura’s hand snaked out through the gap Alex handed the package over. ‘Is Daniel at school?’ she asked, knowing it was a discipline Laura hadn’t bothered to master.
‘Mind your own fucking business and piss off,’ Laura snarled and the door slammed shut.
‘Sweet,’ Alex murmured and turned back to the car. She’d better call Bradshaw Junior later to find out.
The drive through the next few streets was as dispiriting as ever: seeing so many homes barricaded up to protect the terrified, law-abiding residents from their fearsome neighbours was always depressing. How did any of them ever manage to keep hope alive, she often wondered, when they’d been forgotten in just about every way? The tower blocks, deeper into the estate, were as dismally run-down as the low-rise flats, and since she’d visited them many times Alex had no problem imagining the ammonia stench of urine and faeces in the lifts and stairwells.
‘So, here we are,’ Lizzie announced with a marked lack of enthusiasm as they turned into Green Avenue to find no trace of green in the scrubby front gardens nor in the wasteland of a playing field at the far end – otherwise known as the junkie pit. ‘Armageddon on a day off.’
Alex smiled past the unease of now being in a cul de sac. Though the only activity seemed to be rubbish skittering along the pavements in the wind, she could hear someone hammering and drilling behind one of the boarded-up facades, and music blaring out of somewhere. A few intrepid neighbours had dared to hang flower baskets next to their front doors, or balance the odd pot of geraniums on precarious-looking windowsills. Mostly, though, the street was a misfortune of makeshift repairs and shabby paintwork, with an odd assortment of wrecked and pristine cars parked along the kerbs and satellite dishes on every rooftop.
‘What, no welcoming committee?’ Lizzie commented as Alex came to a stop in front of the Princes’ semi, where patches of pebble-dash still clung to the walls in a last desperate bid to show its former glory, and an upstairs window was made of an opaque plastic sheet. ‘Oh, that’s right, no one’s expecting us – and now, with any luck, no sorry ass will be at home so we can turn our pretty little selves around and get the hell out of here.’
Though she’d have liked nothing better, Alex said, ‘Try to think of Polly Prince and what a good thing it is that she has us to look out for her.’
Lizzie’s eyes nearly burst from her head. ‘Yeah, like that little slapper’s going to be real grateful for us coming knocking on her door. She’s going to say, oh hi Alex, hi Lizzie, how lovely to see you. I been wondering when you’d show up to rescue me. Shall I go get my stuff?’
Choking back a laugh, Alex pushed open the car door and after taking her bag from behind the driver’s seat she waited for Lizzie to join her on the pavement.
‘Reckon it might make more sense for me to stay here,’ Lizzie said sagely, ‘you know, in case we need to make a quick getaway.’
‘Nice try,’ Alex responded, registering the heady scent of marijuana floating by on the breeze.
With an exasperated sigh Lizzie prised herself from the passenger seat and after reminding Alex how much she owed her for this, she led the way up to the Princes’ front door.
Leaning past her, Alex gave three sharp raps with the knocker and quickly scooted behind her again.
‘Yeah, you’re real funny,’ Lizzie told her drily. ‘There ain’t no one home, so come on, let’s go.’
‘Give them a chance,’ Alex laughed. ‘I can hear music.’
‘That’ll be the angels hovering about with them harps the way they do when they’ve got a couple of newcomers on their way.’
Stepping in beside her, Alex gave her a wink, and felt her heart lurch as a chain started to rattle the other side of the front door, followed by a bolt grating and a couple of keys turning. Eventually a small, scruffy boy dressed in shorts and jelly shoes appeared from inside.
‘You go and unlock all them keys and bolts by yourself?’ Lizzie asked incredulously.
He only blinked at her.
Guessing someone else had done it for him and was now standing behind the door, Alex said, ‘Is your mummy at home?’
‘What’s it to you?’ a croaky voice demanded from the darkness. It wasn’t possible to tell whether it was male or female until a shaven-haired young woman in her mid-to-late twenties stepped in behind the boy and put a hand on his head. ‘What do you want?’ she snapped.
‘We’re from social services,’ Alex informed her, noting the puffy black eye and cut lip that appeared to be as recently applied as last night’s make-up. ‘We’d like to have a chat with Polly if she’s in.’
The young woman eyed her coldly. ‘Yeah, I bet you would,’ she rasped, and to Alex’s surprise, she swung the door wider and jerked her head as an invitation to follow.
The living room turned out to be as cluttered and rancid as Alex had feared, with old blankets thrown over a sofa, at least half a dozen full ashtrays spilling on to the floor and more empty beer bottles than she could count scattered about various surfaces. Unsurprisingly, the corner next to the hearth was dominated by a forty-two-inch plasma TV that had almost certainly fallen off the back of a lorry, and an impressive range of computer games and technology that had no doubt taken the same spill.
For all the detritus of human neglect and indulgence there was no one else in the room, and the music Alex had heard from outside had stopped. It gave her an eerie feeling, as though someone was lurking, waiting to eavesdrop on what might be said. Shane? Polly? Their mother? She guessed she’d find out soon enough.
‘I’m Cindy, by the way,’ the young woman informed them, ‘Polly’s sister. This is Ryan.’
Alex smiled down at the little boy, but he didn’t smile back. Was he part of someone’s caseload, she wondered. She’d check when she got back. ‘Is your mother at home?’ she asked Cindy. Since it wasn’t possible for them to interview Polly without a parent or legal guardian being present, they might as well
get that established first.
Cindy lit a cigarette. ‘Yeah, she’s upstairs in bed,’ she answered. ‘I thought it was Polly you’d come to see.’
Lizzie said, ‘It is, but your mother ...’
‘... has to be there,’ Cindy interrupted. ‘Yeah, yeah. Go upstairs and get Nan,’ she barked at Ryan. ‘And while you’re at it, tell that scummy little bitch Polly she can get herself down here too.’
Slouching off to do as he was told, Ryan slammed the door behind him. A moment later he could be heard yelling ‘Nan,’ as he climbed the stairs.
Cindy said, ‘So, do you want to sit down, or what?’
Glancing at Lizzie Alex said, ‘Thank you,’ and trying not to think of what might be creeping about in the cushions she settled on to the edge of the sofa, while Lizzie made the wiser choice of an upright chair.
‘You got some nerve coming here after what happened to the doctor,’ Cindy commented through a cloud of smoke.
Alex spoke carefully as she said, ‘You know about that?’
‘It’d be difficult not to when the pigs came straight round here and lifted my brother, wouldn’t it?’ Cindy retorted.
Trying not to glance at Lizzie, Alex said, ‘Do you live here?’
‘Sometimes. Depends. Why do you want to know?’
Alex smiled. ‘Just making conversation.’
Cindy eyed her suspiciously and took another drag. ‘You don’t say much, do you?’ she shot at Lizzie.
Lizzie raised an eyebrow. ‘I got plenty to say when the time is right,’ she informed her with a friendly smile, ‘so don’t you go worrying about that.’
Cindy sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her nose, a dozen or more silver chains rattling as she moved. ‘So, what do you want to see Polly about?’ she demanded. ‘If you ask me you ought to hike the dumbfuck cow back into care, we’d all be a lot better off round here if she was out of the way.’
Hiding her surprise, Alex said, ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Why do you think? That fucking disease she’s got. She’s spreading it around like it’s fucking Smarties. No one’s safe, because the horny little slapper don’t give a shit who she goes with. If it weren’t for our Shane someone would have done something to stop her by now, but they’re all so fucking scared of him that no one dares say nothin’.’
Before Alex could respond Lizzie said, ‘I take it he’s not here.’
‘Does it look like it?’
‘So where is he?’ Alex asked.
‘Don’t ask me, ask her.’
Alex turned to find Debbie Prince, a bone-thin, exhausted-looking woman with bloodshot eyes, an oddly crooked nose and lips with more lines around them than she had teeth inside, coming in the door. Her hair was ratty and dyed red, her clothes hung loosely from her frame, showing a rose tattoo on her arms and another on her neck.
‘What the fuck do you want?’ she snarled, going to fetch her cigarettes from the mantelshelf over the gas fire. ‘We got no need of the likes of you, so why don’t you just bog off out of here and let us alone?’
‘We’re here to speak to Polly,’ Alex explained, getting to her feet. ‘I’m told she’s at home.’
Debbie shot her eldest daughter a scathing look. ‘So what if she is?’ she snapped, lighting up. ‘She’s busy right now, so she ain’t got no time to speak to you.’
What could a fourteen-year-old be busy doing on a Tuesday morning when she was supposed to be at school, Alex wondered. ‘It’s OK, we can wait,’ she smiled.
Debbie Prince inhaled deeply and regarded Alex with her mean little eyes as she blew smoke from the corner of her mouth. ‘Well, maybe I don’t want you to wait,’ she told her. ‘Maybe I don’t want you in my house at all.’
‘Mum, cut it out, will you?’ Cindy complained. ‘They’re not doing no harm and someone has to talk to the stupid little cow.’
‘You can shut your fucking mouth,’ Debbie told her sharply. ‘You go on like that and next thing they’ll be having her out of here and into some care home, and if that happens then someone’s going to be very fucking sorry around here.’ Her piercing eyes came back to Alex in a way that blatantly fixed Alex as the someone.
‘The doctor informed us that Polly has an STD,’ Lizzie piped up. ‘At fourteen she shouldn’t be having sex at all ...’
‘Who the fuck asked you?’ Debbie spat, and her scathing addition of the n word brought the colour flooding to Lizzie’s cheeks.
‘Being offensive isn’t going to help anyone,’ Alex came in quickly. ‘If Polly is engaging in sexual intercourse then we need to establish first of all whether this is of her own free will ...’
‘Oh, what, so you think we’re fucking tying her up and raping her, do you?’ Debbie snarled.
‘We’re not accusing anyone of anything,’ Lizzie replied, ‘but when a child of fourteen is known to have a sexually transmissible disease it’s clear that something, somewhere is wrong. Wouldn’t you agree?’
‘What I know is that she’s my daughter, which makes her my business, not yours. So take your fat ass off my chair, Mama, and get the fuck out of here before my lad comes home and chucks you out.’
Glancing at Lizzie, Alex said, ‘We really do need to see her, Mrs Prince. If you refuse we’ll just have to come back with a protection order and I don’t think any of us wants that.’
As Lizzie winced at the mention of a PO, Debbie Prince leaned towards Alex and blew a cloud of smoke in her face.
Waving it away, Alex said, ‘You must realise this isn’t helping Polly.’
‘Why don’t you do as I said and fuck off,’ Debbie Prince told her. ‘And you,’ she snarled, rounding on her daughter, ‘what the fuck were you doing letting them in here?’
Cindy’s eyes flashed. ‘Like she said, if we don’t go along with them they’ll just come back with a protection order and that means the cops. Do you really want them barging their way in here again?’
Debbie Prince’s inflamed eyes stayed on Cindy as she took another drag of her cigarette. ‘It’s a pity that old man of yours didn’t manage to knock a bit of sense into you when he had a go,’ she said bitingly.
‘What’s wrong with what I said?’ Cindy cried, throwing out her arms. ‘Or do you want the cops in here, is that what you’re saying?’
Ignoring the question, Debbie turned back to Alex. ‘You still here?’ she snapped. ‘The door’s over there; use it and do yourself a favour, don’t bother coming back.’
Since they had no powers to force the issue, Alex waited for Lizzie to go ahead before following her into the hall. Guessing Polly would be somewhere in earshot, she turned back to Debbie and said, ‘I hope you’re getting treatment for Polly’s condition, because if it goes unchecked her whole future, even her life could be in danger, and it can leave terrible scars, especially on the face.’
Sounding weary, Debbie said to Cindy, ‘Does that bitch never give up? Get her out of here before I lose my temper.’
Needing no further prompting Alex followed Lizzie out to the car, flinching as the front door slammed behind them.
‘Well that went well,’ Lizzie remarked cheerfully.
Alex wanted to laugh, but knew better than to be seen with a smile on her face until they were well out of sight.
‘Nice parting shot,’ Lizzie commented as they got into the car. ‘The girl’s sure to have heard, so hopefully it’ll strike enough fear into her stupid little head to get herself treated.’
Not bothering to ask what kind of mother would allow such a disease to go untreated, since she’d come across plenty of negligent mothers in her time, Alex glanced up at the house as she started the engine. ‘As soon as we’re off the estate I’ll call Wendy to get an Emergency Protection Order,’ she declared.
Lizzie gave a low whistle. ‘Well, that’ll certainly set the cat among the pigeons, coming back here with the cops to drag the kid out.’
‘What else are we going to do, just leave her there?’ Alex demanded.
Lizzie didn’t answer until Alex had turned the car around and the house was behind them. ‘Actually, you might want an SO,’ she advised, meaning a Secure Order. ‘Given how often the girl’s absconded from her foster placements in the past, we have to make sure she gets proper medical attention and don’t remain sexually active. The only way of doing that is to put her under twenty-four-seven observation.’
Relieved to have Lizzie’s support, Alex was about to speak again when a bolt of fear struck to the core of her heart. ‘Oh my God,’ she murmured, hitting the brake.
Standing in a straggled line across the end of the cul de sac, hoods up around their shaven heads, arms folded or hands stuffed in low-slung pockets, were Shane Prince and his mates.
Lizzie took out her phone. ‘OK, you’re needed,’ she said, when someone answered her call.
Alex glanced at her.
Lizzie was dialling again. ‘Police please,’ she said. ‘Yes, it’s an emergency.’
By the time she’d finished giving details of who and where they were, Alex had locked all the doors and was trying to decide whether to reverse back up the street, or drive straight at the yobs and not care who she hit.
‘What shall I do?’ she gasped, as they surrounded the car and began bouncing it up and down and pitching it savagely from side to side.
‘Hit the gas,’ Lizzie told her urgently.
Alex let out the clutch and slammed down the accelerator, but the wheels were off the ground.
The boys laughed and jeered. ‘Fucking women drivers,’ they heard one of them scoff.
There was a grating sound as someone dragged something sharp along the paintwork, and a thumping as someone else tried to push in the back windscreen. A face loomed up at Lizzie’s window, his tongue out and his eyes crossed.
