Riding Solo

by Woods, Karen

  RIDING SOLO

  BY KAREN WOODS

  EMPIRE PUBLICATIONS – MANCHESTER

  www.empire-uk.com

  *

  First published in 2013 by Empire Publications

  Smashwords Edition

  © Karen Woods 2013

  ISBN: 978-1-909360-20-4

  The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  Published by Empire Publications at Smashwords

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is available in print at:

  http://www.empire-uk.com

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  Acknowledgements

  I've written this book for all the people who have ever suffered a broken heart. The pain we've all felt never fully leaves us, it just make us stronger. Times a good healer and no matter how low you feel now, it does get better in time, trust me, I know. Love does move in mysterious ways, and who knows what’s around the corner for you?

  Well, this is my ninth novel and I'm still going strong. Who'd have ever thought I would become a author? Thanks to all my family for all their endless support and to all my readers who buy my books.

  Thanks especially to my mother Margaret (Sister Agnacious) who reads through all my work and makes sure it makes sense. She's my biggest critic and reminds me of a nun who used to teach me in my old primary school. Thanks to my father Alan for always giving me story lines and thanks to James for just being him and supporting me when I'm writing.

  To all my Facebook and Twitter friends thanks for all your advice and for spreading the news about my books. To my children Ashley, Blake, Declan and Darcy, I love you all around the world and back again.

  To my grandchildren, Dolton, Cruz and Marcy, love you loads.

  Writing books has changed my life, its just goes to show that fate always leads the way. Take chances and follow your dreams, nothing is impossible if you believe enough in it. My last thanks as always is to my son in heaven Dale. Gone but never forgotten.

  Love Karen Woods

  CHAPTER ONE

  Marcy Jordan clutched her Masters degree in her hand and looked for her mother in the crowd of spectators. She was excited and she couldn’t wait to share her success with her family, well, the one member who’d even bothered to turn up. “Where the hell are you mother?” she mumbled under her breath looking agitated. Times had been hard for Marcy lately and it was only thanks to her tutor and the extra support she’d given her that she’d even passed her Psychology degree. The Manchester weather was hot and clammy, kids stood around sucking on ice-lollies enjoying the sunshine. Fluffy white clouds scattered the blue skies like big balls of cotton wool. Everybody’s mood was high, they were shouting and cheering and the celebrations were in full swing, the place was alive. Marcy pulled at her black gown and scanned the area for her mother again, she knew she was in the crowd somewhere and she stretched her neck trying to find her.

  Marcy Jordan was twenty-five years of age and lived near a council estate in Manchester. A good looking woman she was, “Well worth one!” the lads used to say but Marcy never thought she was beautiful; her self-confidence had always been low. She thought she was average looking but and never classed herself as beautiful. The area where she lived was well known for crime and poverty and life for a lot of the families living there was hard.

  Marcy waved her hand over her head and tried to get her mother’s attention. “Bloody hell mother, you’re blind as a bat,” she whispered to herself. Barging her way through the spectators, she cupped her hands around her mouth. “Mam,” she yelled.

  A woman appeared and started trudging slowly towards her. She looked like she had the worries of the world on her shoulders. Jackie Jordan looked old and tired; her hair was fine and greasy and it could have done with a good cut, she looked haggard. The thick folds in her skin suggested she was a heavy smoker, with deep, deep wrinkles. Who would have thought that only six months earlier this woman had been the happiest woman on earth? “Where the bleeding hell, have you been?” Marcy hissed as she grabbed her mother by the arm.

  Jackie dipped her eyes and tried to raise a smile, she was struggling. “I just got caught up at the back, nobody was moving out of my way. I couldn’t see a thing,” she lied.

  “So, did you get any photographs?”

  Jackie passed her the camera and tried not to look at her. Marcy held it in her hand and her jaw dropped as she flicked through the snaps on the screen. Her face was bright red; she gritted her teeth tightly together. “Mam, there’s not one good photograph of me on here. Look, you can just about see my face.” She shoved the camera in her mother’s face.

  Jackie snarled and yanked at her black nylon jacket. She hated being dressed up and felt completely out of place at this venue. She’d been through the mill lately and if the truth was known she would have much rather have stayed at home watching an episode of the Jeremy Kyle show; she looked like a fish out of water. “I tried didn’t I? For crying out loud, I’m not bleeding David Bailey you know. Someone else will have got some good photographs of you anyway, so wind your neck in.”

  Marcy rammed the camera into her leather shoulder bag, her face was like thunder. She was sick to death of her mother wallowing in her own self-pity, she’d had it up to the neck, she was ready to let rip. Pulling her mother to the side away from the crowd she growled into her ear. “Just for one day, can’t you just forget about my Dad? This is my day, don’t be spoiling it. Please, try to be happy for me, just for once? I’ve worked hard for this you know?”

  Jackie was in a strop and dug deep into her coat pocket for her cigarettes. She was gasping for a blast of nicotine; her hands were shaking as she popped one into the corner of her mouth. “How do you expect me to be happy? I’ll never forget about what that bastard has done to me,” she inhaled deeply and blew a thick cloud of grey smoke from her mouth. “I know it’s your day, but don’t expect me to be all smiles when I’m dying inside.”

  Marcy was sorry she’d even opened her mouth and shook her head from side to side. That was it, Jackie was on one again. She could hear her repeating the story she’d heard a billion times over and over again. Marcy covered her ears with her hands, she couldn’t take it anymore. Walking slowly through the crowd she made her way back to the front to say her farewells to her friends. Jackie was lagging behind her still mumbling under her breath. Gazing at her friends in the distance Marcy’s heart sank. She could see them being hugged and patted on the shoulders by their family members and they all looked so proud, she was jealous. This would never happen to her, not today, not any day in the near future. She was gutted.

  Marcy’s father had left the family home six months earlier. Twenty five years of marriage he’d left behind, at the drop of a hat, no warning, no nothing. Marcy knew that word for word because her mother had repeated it to her, day in, day out since he’d left. Jackie chugged on her cigarette by her side, her eyes were watering, she was on the verge of breaking down, and her lips were trembling. Marcy went to speak to her friends and left her mother behind, there was no way she was taking her with her to meet her friends, she was an embarrassment. After all, this was Marcy’s happy day and she didn’t want her spoiling it anymore than she had already. And, given the chance, she would have you know. If she’d been given the opportunity, Jackie would have told everyone there all about the bum deal she’d received from her cheating husband. E
verybody and anybody.

  Marcy stood having some photographs taken with her friends. She held a look in her eyes that told you she didn’t feel as if she belonged there with all these graduates. The other girls seemed rich and even the way they spoke put her to shame. Marcy was a rough diamond, or so her friends told her. Jackie trudged to a nearby wall and hung her head. A single bulky salty tear fell from her eye. Looking at a younger woman sat next to her she shook her head slowly. “It’s a lovely day for them all isn’t it?” The female smiled back at her and agreed. Jackie had her full attention now and didn’t waste a second more. “My husband’s not here to see it all though,” she spluttered. “I suppose that’s what happens when your marriage breaks up though, isn’t it?” The lady looked uncomfortable and stood up slowly gathering her belongings. “I mean,” Jackie continued trying to say her piece. “You give them the best years of your life and as soon as a bit of young stuff comes along they’re gone at the drop of a hat. Twenty-five years I gave him. I waited on him hand and foot and this is how he treats me. Never trust a man love, never.” The onlooker walked off and glanced back over her shoulder; she was laughing when she got to her friends and pointed at Jackie still sat on the wall still talking to herself. “Twenty-five years of my life gone, and for what? Down the drain, gone, wasted. Twenty-five bastard years,” she sobbed.

  The award ceremony was over and it was time for Marcy to start heading home. Jackie was moaning and her mood was lower than ever. “How long will it take to get home, these shoes are ripping my feet apart. Look at the blisters on the back of my foot. They’re crippling me. I told you I should have put my flat shoes on, why did I ever listen to you?”

  Marcy had heard enough, she snapped and held nothing back. Months of frustration came flooding out. “You should have stayed at home then, that’s what you should have done, mother. For one day I’ve asked you to be supportive and you can’t even do that,” she hesitated before she spoke again. “My dad’s gone, just get over it and move on.”

  All hell broke loose; Jackie pulled her grey kitten heeled shoes from her feet and launched them into the air. People were looking at them both and she didn’t care who heard what she had to say. She wanted the world to hear her. “Oh, I might have known this would have been my fault. What about your father ay, what about him? At least I’m here with you, where the fuck is he?” she pointed her finger into Marcy’s face, ramming it deep into her cheeks causing it to sink in. “Oh, I bet he’s on some romantic holiday with his fancy piece. It’s always me who gets the rotten end of the stick. You need to start seeing your dad for who he really is. He fooled me too you know. He pulled the wool right over my eyes.”

  Marcy was bright red as she tried to raise a smile at the spectators. “Keep your voice down, will you mother? You’re embarrassing me again,” Marcy snarled and pulled Jackie towards the exit. “Look, people are looking at us now. Just turn it in and button your lip.”

  Her mother was livid and marched about like a headless chicken, she was on one. “Does this face look like it gives a flying fuck? No,” she shouted out at the top of her voice. “Why should I keep quiet? Everybody here should know about what a cheating bastard you’re father really is.” She held her hands out in front of her and walked towards some people sat on a wall in the distance, she’d lost the plot. “It’s not me you know. I’m here for my daughter. It’s him who left us. Twenty-five years of marriage he left behind.”

  Marcy hurried to her side and dragged her back by the arm. She apologised to the couple sat on the wall, she was sweating. “Stop embarrassing me, for Christ sake, turn it in. Come on, let’s go home. I’m sorry I even asked you to come with me. You’re a disgrace, no wonder he left you.” Marcy covered her mouth with her hands, she never meant to say that aloud but it just leapt out of her mouth without her having any control over it.

  Jackie plunged her clenched fists into her daughter’s face - she was crazy. Months of frustration had finally surfaced; she’d cracked up under the pressure. Jackie gripped Marcy’s bright red face into her hands. “You will never understand what it’s like to have a broken heart. You expect me to put a smile on my face and carry on like nothing has happened. Well, I can’t do it anymore, do you hear me? I can’t do it.”

  Marcy pushed her away with force; her nose was trickling with bright red blood. “Just go home mother. I’ve finished with you. I swear, once I get home I’m leaving you too. There you go, I’ve said it, I’m leaving, I’m moving out.”

  Jackie folded in two on the floor. Ragging her hands through her hair she watched her daughter leaving. Eyes up to the sky she pleaded with a desperate face. “Help me someone, please help me. I can’t do this anymore.”

  A little while later, Marcy sat on her single bed just staring at the walls; her nose had stopped bleeding now. A crumpled tissue covered in claret was held tightly in her grip. The suitcase on the floor was looking at her and she knew she had to pack it before her mother came back. With tears in her eyes she jumped up from the bed and opened her wardrobe door. With speed she dragged all her clothing out and rammed them into the black suitcase at the side of her. Marcy paused; she held her ear to the door. Jackie was home. The footsteps pounding up the stairs made Marcy’s heart jump about inside her ribcage. You could see her chest rising with speed. Gripping the handle of the suitcase she prepared herself for round two. This wasn’t the first time the two women had been at loggerheads. The bedroom door flung open nearly coming off its hinges.

  There stood Jackie with a look to kill spread right across her face. Thick black mascara was running down her cheeks, she looked menacing. Jackie’s eyes shot to the suitcase on the bed. Her nostrils were flaring. “So you’re leaving me then?”

  Marcy dipped her head and tried to avoid eye contact with her mother. “Yes mam,” she murmured, “I’m going. You’re making me ill. I can’t keep picking you up every time you fall. I’m exhausted with it all. I need to get away for my own sanity.”

  Jackie melted against the bedroom door and sobbed. Her head in her hands she mumbled under her breath. “I’m sorry too love, perhaps you’re right. I am weak, I know I am, but every day is a struggle for me. You’re all I’ve got left. Please don’t leave me. I’ll try to sort myself out honest. I’ll try and get better.”

  Marcy had heard the same words over and over again and she shook her head slowly. She couldn’t take any more. “No mam, I’m going. I’m twenty-five years of age and I’m not living here any longer. You’re dragging me down with you. I’m just about existing living here. You make me feel depressed,” Marcy paced the bedroom floor and continued. “You phone me when I’m out with my friends, pissed out of your head usually,” she laughed sarcastically. “You’re always crying for the same reason. I need a life too, mother. I’m going, end of; you can’t stop me. My mind’s made up.”

  Jackie bolted up from the floor. She had to up her game if she had any chance of stopping her daughter leaving her. Her trembling hands tugged at Marcy’s sleeve in desperation. “I may as well be dead if you go. What do I have to live for anymore? Everything I’ve ever loved is gone.”

  Marcy picked her bags up and walked a few steps forward. She had to be strong this time, otherwise her mother would have persuaded her to stay again. “Bye,” she whispered under her breath as she left. The screams from behind her crucified her.

  Jackie’s head was held over the banister and she was ranting at the top of her voice. “Go on then, fuck off out of here. Like father like daughter. When I’m dead my blood will be on your hands, just you wait and see. Just you wait and see lady.” Marcy opened the front door and marched down the garden path; she never looked back once.

  Jackie rocked about on the floor for a few minutes then sprang to her feet. Tears trickled down her cheeks she held a menacing look in her eyes. “I’ll show them both; I’ll show all of them,” she rambled. Running into the bathroom she grabbed the bottles of tablets from inside the cabinet and headed back into her bedroom. Before she
sat down she looked at the photograph in the wooden frame of her family positioned on the bedside cabinet. Slowly she reached over for it and held the picture close to her heart. Her bony fingers gripped the white lid from the pills as she poured all the tablets onto the bed. Taking deep breaths she sat staring at them, her lips were dry and she was constantly licking at them. One by one Jackie Morgan popped the sleeping tablets to the back of her mouth. She kept swilling them to the back of her throat with a glass of water she held in her hand. When she’d finished popping over twenty of them she lay down slowly and closed her eyes. She was humming a tune as her chest started to rise slower and slower. Her grip around the family portrait loosened, the photo frame finally fell onto the bed. Jackie’s mouth was open and her cheeks were wet with the tears. She wasn’t breathing anymore.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Marcy Jordan sat in a car behind the black hearse as it travelled along Rochdale road heading towards Moston cemetery. Her father Steve sat facing her and his head was resting on the window. “I never thought she would do it you know,” Marcy whispered.

  Steve chewed on his lip. He was feeling guilty and held regrets about the choices he’d made in his life. “Me neither sweetheart. I’m so sorry love, I’m so sorry.” His eyes poured a waterfall of tears and his nose was running. Marcy passed him a tissue and she patted his shoulder softly. “I just fell out of love with her, I think,” he spluttered. “We’d not been happy for years, and if she was honest to herself she would have said the same. We were going through a rough patch.”

  Marcy inhaled deeply, she didn’t want to hear the truth, and she couldn’t cope with it right now. “You left her Dad. You met somebody else, she was heartbroken you know. How did you expect her to feel?”

  Steve wiped his eyes and looked at his daughter with a serious face. “You can’t blame me for her death though Marcy,” he was searching for forgiveness. “Lots of people split up, but they don’t kill themselves. Your mother has done this to spite me. She wanted the last laugh and now she’s got it. I hate her for what she’s done,” his eyes stared at Marcy. “What about you? She’s left you behind. What kind of woman deserts her daughter?”