Blood Secrets_A gripping crime thriller with killer twists

by Dreda Say Mitchell

  As Dee walked towards the lounge clutching her son Miriam sucked her thumb where Natty had bitten her. It was time to move up her plans for her and her darling Andy to become a family again.

  Dee held her son tight as she sat in the dark in John’s chair. Natty must’ve felt the coiled tension inside her because his tiny fingers twisted in her jacket for dear life. She kissed his forehead. She was still having trouble getting her head round what Biggin had told her. It couldn’t be true. No way. Babs would’ve…wouldn’t she? Her mother wouldn’t have kept this from her? They had come such a long way as daughter and mother. They had a solid relationship now where there was no place for barefaced lies only straight talking. But what she’d been told at the gym...

  Dee whispered to her treasured child, ‘There’s only one way to find out. I’m gonna have to, point blank, ask your Nanna Babs.’

  35

  ‘So glad you’ve put in an appearance coz since you’re squatting in my room I’ve rustled together a few adjustments,’ Tiff informed Flo with sly glee.

  Flo stood in the doorway of what she referred to as ‘our room’ and was very careful to hide the WTF anger she felt as she ran an eye over Tiff’s ‘adjustments.’ Running along the middle of the room was a wardrobe lying on its side, a chest of drawers and a bookcase. Either side was makeshift panelling consisting of laminate flooring left over from when Babs had redecorated the sitting room.

  ‘Building your own cut price Berlin Wall are you Tiff?’ Flo spoke calmly. The last thing she wanted was this bitch to suss that she was royally pissing her right off. ‘Turning our one-bedroom des res into a two-bed flop house?’

  Tiff was attempting to use duct tape to keep her laminate panels straight but it was looking a bit drunk.

  She snapped, ‘Got it right in one. If you’re gonna carry on poncing off my mum – MY MUM – you can do it in your own space.’

  Flo was not best pleased to see all her gear dumped on the other side along with the camp bed shoved at an angle. But at least she had the window.

  Flo pretended she was still taking this seriously. ‘Actually, then it’s not a two-bed apartment, it’s more of a one-bedroom, one camper bedroom, apartment.’

  Tiff went into full flight. ‘If you think you’re getting my bed, you can fuck right off.’

  ‘Fair play, I’ll give over the bed.’ Flo inspected the work. ‘But there is a problem here – how am I supposed to get to my room without going through yours?’

  ‘Gonna divide the door in two and hang curtains from there to the wall.’

  Flo knew her tone was winding Tiff up. ‘Of course! Silly me! Well, I must say this looks like a very professional job. You should have been a developer – shedloads of wonga in that.’

  Tiff stared at her with distrust. ‘You’re alright with this?’

  That caught the Mohican-haired witch out. Took more than moving a few bits of furniture around to push her hissy fit button. She decided to play the caring sister.

  ‘Is everything getting to you Tiffany? I mean have you got issues you want to talk to me about? I know we’ve had out differences in the past but I’m here to help if you need me. I’m your half-sister after all, so come on, don’t be shy, let me help.’

  Here we go!

  She waited for Hurricane Tiff to land. It never came.

  Instead her sister narrowed her eyes. ‘Think you can wind me up, eh? Make me blow like a bottle of bolly?’ Tiff contemptuously brushed two fingers against her shoulder giving Flo the brush off. ‘You stop on your side of the room and I’ll stop on mine.’

  Flo was getting narked now, seriously considering kicking down the room divide when she noticed Babs putting on her coat in the hallway.

  Flo moved into the hallway. ‘Are you off to the hospital?’

  Babs nodded. Flo never thought she’d live to see the day she felt sorry for Babs Miller. At one time she’d hated her with a passion. Now she felt so bad for her about what had happened to Jen.

  ‘Take care of the girls while I’m gone,’ Babs instructed as her hand reached for the latch. Suddenly her hand fell as she patted her coat. ‘Bollocks. I’ve forgotten my mobile.’ She looked up at Flo with tired eyes. ‘Will you get it for me? I left it on the kitchen table.’

  Flo found it where Babs said it would be. As she picked it up it pinged with a text message.

  She read it. Her mouth fell open. ‘What the fuck?’

  ‘Florence,’ Babs called, her voice laden with impatience.

  ‘Coming.’ She made her voice sound bright and breezy.

  As soon as she handed the phone over Babs was gone. Flo didn’t hesitate. She made her way into her newly refurbished room. Tiff was still fighting with the laminate flooring.

  ‘Tiff?’ She invaded her sister’s half of the room.

  ‘Oi! I’ve told you—‘

  Flo urgently grabbed her arm. ‘Shut it! There’s something you need to know.’

  ‘Excuse me, do you know of any all-night shops round here?’ Courtney asked in her best plummy-school voice.

  The woman, pulling a laden shopping trolley, was happy to oblige. She pointed down the street. ‘Turn the corner and there’s a 7/11.’

  Courtney had given her Aunts Tiff and Flo some BS story about going to see her mate on The Devil when in reality she was out hunting down that bitch Dodgy. The info on where Dodgy was laying low came by way of that lippy, knob head Ellis who fancied hisself something chronic. She’d never been to his gaff before on the estate but knew it was a favourite hangout for Dodgy and her crew. The guy’s mum worked three jobs to keep hearth and home together, which meant she was rarely around and that turned it into the ideal tearaway teen haunt. Ellis had played the Big I Am until she pushed the scalpel, upfront and personal, in his boat and put him straight. He soon let on about Dodgy being holed up at her mad Aunt Tracy’s in Romford, in a flat above one of those all-night stores.

  Courtney thanked the woman and headed through Romford market, which was in full swing. Someone was yelling, ‘Pound-A-Bowl,’ to entice passers-by to his fruit ‘n’ veg stall. There was a huge bookstall selling romances run by a gorgeous woman with flowing blonde curls to die for. Trendy clothes stalls and even one selling glasses.

  When she reached the shop, Courtney hurried down an alleyway to stairs leading to the flat above. But drew a blank when an elderly guy with a very strange ginger beard answered. He suggested another place though, over the road.

  Courtney found the store, hurried down a passageway that ran next to it and up a flight of iron stairs to the door at the top. She gripped the handle of the scalpel in her pocket and noticed it had sliced a hole in the fabric. Courtney hated violence. Even when she’d saved her beloved Nanna from her monster granddad Stan all that blood had made her feel dirty and panicked deep, down inside. It was the right thing to do – that’s what everyone repeatedly told her – but taking someone’s life hadn’t felt right to her for the longest time. But sorting Dodgy did.

  She whispered in a low, menacing growl, ‘I’ll get you for this you slag. You’re gonna pay for my mum. All the way.’

  She hammered on the knackered brass knocker and then clocked a doorbell half hanging off the door. It was the face of a frog with scary, bulging eyes with the button inside its wide, open gob. She pressed it and nearly jumped out of her skin when the whirring noise of an air raid siren cried out. Courtney waited but no one came to the door, so she pressed again.

  A female voice inside yelled, ‘Hold your blimmin’ galloping horses.’

  She heard the slap-slap of backless slippers approach the front door. It was opened by a woman wearing a bathrobe, with a towel twisted round her head and a fag hanging out of her mouth.

  Ciggy bouncing between her lips as she spoke. ‘Look luv, if you’re flogging tea towels, sponges, scouring pads or some new miracle to clean my stove I don’t wanna know. Plus, you’ll be trying to screw me over, charging a fiver for each, and let’s face it the market’s round the corner where I
can get the lot for a tenner. I mean do I look like I’m this year’s Easter Bunny, Eh?’

  The words came at 90 mph. Courtney’s ears started ringing. Dodgy’s Aunt Tracy went on and on and on. In the end, to save her sanity if nothing else, Courtney butted in. ‘You’ve got the wrong end of the stick. I’m here to see Dodgy.’

  Dodgy’s aunt tugged the fag from her mouth and gave Courtney the once-over, her eyes squinting slightly. ‘Oh yeah? Wha’cha want with her then?’

  Courtney let out a long, sigh of relief; at least Dodgy was here. ‘She asked me to pop over.’

  ‘Really?’ The woman scowled. ‘Thing is, she’s hurt her leg, poor thing. She didn’t say boo to me ‘bout anyone coming to call though.’

  Courtney toughed it out. ‘She gave me a bell and told me to pop over coz she hurt her leg. She wanted a bit of company.’

  Satisfied, Aunt Tracy waved her impatiently in. Courtney was expecting the flat to be an ultra disaster zone but it was neat, clean, full of proudly framed family photos and, in the sitting room, a large cabinet with rows and rows of gleaming glasses.

  And lying on a floral-patterned sofa, under a fluffy, green blanket, curled on her side facing the wall was Dodgy. Courtney’s temper rose to boiling point. How dare she! How fucking dare she! Her mum’s fighting for her very life, tubes coming outta her this way ‘n’ that and this…this…rank, out of order gang girl cunt was taking a kip.

  ‘Shannon,’ her Aunt shoved out with the bark of a Sergeant Major, ‘you’ve got a visitor.’

  Dodgy’s whole body stiffened. Her sharp, indrawn gasp was loud in the room. She twisted round so quickly she nearly fell off the sofa. ‘Look, Pinky and Styley…’ Her head came up. Her words stopped dead as soon as she clocked Courtney.

  ‘Dunno who Pinky and Blinky are,’ her aunt let out all light and airy. The tension in the room had obviously gone straight over her head. ‘But your mate here says you gave her a bell to swing on by. I’ve gotta get my hair sorted for tonight at the Tropicana so I’ll leave you two beauty queens to get reacquainted.’

  Neither girl spoke when she left the room. Courtney took note of her bloodshot, swollen eyes. She’d never associated Dodgy with crying. Bloody good! She’d be blubbing a wagonload more by the time Courtney had finished with her.

  ‘Courts I…’

  Courtney whipped out the scalpel and advanced on the other girl. ‘My mum’s at death’s door coz of you.’

  Dodgy reared forward, the scalpel inches away from her face. Courtney was shocked out of her socks by the girl’s unexpected action.

  ‘Come on then! Stab me up! That’s what you’re here for, ain’t it?’ She pulled her T-Shirt up. Pointed crazily at her heart. ‘Go on. Stick me right there, that’ll do the job.’

  Courtney’s hand wavered in alarm. She’d been expecting Dodgy to give her a load of ol’ flim-flam, trying to wriggle her way out of trouble.

  Dodgy screamed, ‘Not got the bottle then? I suppose not, you’re a good girl, ain’t ya. Here – let me help.’

  She made a grab for Courtney’s hand, but Courtney stepped back shocked by Dodgy’s death wish behaviour.

  The other girl slumped back, tears rolling down her cheek. ‘It weren’t my fault, weren’t my fault. How was I supposed to know? Eh? Tell me – how was I supposed to know your mum would be there?’

  ‘You wanna see my mum? She ain’t opened her eyes once.’ The scalpel trembled in her hand. ‘The doctors don’t know if she will ever again.’

  A heart-wrenching sob tore out of the other girl. She shook her head to the beat of the words that followed. ‘I’d never have gone in there if I’d known they had plans to shoot the place up with your mum in it.’

  ‘It weren’t just my mum. My aunts were there too and my grandmother—‘

  ‘Your nan?’ Dodgy wailed, no doubt thinking of her own beloved grandmother.

  Courtney’s grip tightened on the blade. ‘I ain’t gonna ask you who the fuckers are, you done it coz I heard you mention their names to Strawberry.’ The blood drained from Dodgy’s face. ‘Pinky and Styley. They were the ones in that flash set of wheels you were chatting to that time in the car park.’ It wasn’t a question but a statement: Courtney didn’t need Dodgy to spell out the truth.

  Dodgy sniffed as she swiped the back of her hand against her dripping nose. ‘I tell you what Courts, I’ve done nuff badness in my time but willingly setting up one of my mate’s mum’s – never.’

  ‘My mum never hurt a fly in her life,’ Courtney said softly. Dodgy looked shamed-faced. ‘Now she’s got all these tubes going in her. I think they’re hurting her.’

  ‘Nah.’ Dodgy shook her head. ‘She can’t feel nish. My old girl was the same. It happened to her.’

  That was news to Courtney. ‘Yeah?’

  Courtney still thought Dodgy had been bang out of order, but she wasn’t the one who’d pulled the trigger. Plus she looked like she was paying in spades. Courtney put the scalpel away and cautiously took a seat next to her friend. And Dodgy was still her friend.

  ‘Silly moo was so busy drinking the can of brew she wandered into the road and a bus had her. That’s the way my Nan told me coz, as you know, my old man and lady did a runner without me when I was a young un.’ She caught Courtney’s gaze. ‘That’s why I told the lads from the off that I don’t do mums. That Izzy at the hairdressers was a special case. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t much like mine, but that don’t mean I weren’t broken-hearted when she weren’t there no more.’

  A troubled silence covered them. Then Dodgy whispered, ‘You do believe me?’

  Courtney nodded. ‘I suppose…yeah, I know it weren’t your fault.

  Dodgy pushed out her little finger and curled it slightly. ‘Friends?’

  Courtney curled her pinky around the offered finger. What else could she say? ‘Friends.’

  36

  ‘Babs?’

  Dee’s hesitant voice plucked Babs out of her daze. She was sitting by Jen’s hospital bed holding her unconscious daughter’s hand.

  ‘Any change?’ Dee’s voice was barely above a whisper as she came to stand by Jen’s bed.

  Babs shook her head, but truth be told, she was a bit worried about how Dee was shaping up. Her girl didn’t appear her usual self. Dee never left her house unless she looked like a class act; primped and preened to the max with designer clobber that made many a-woman green with envy. Her jeans... Babs peered harder; there was a stain on them. Her girl didn’t go around with stains like she was a homeless.

  Babs couldn’t stop from asking, ‘You alright luv?’

  Her Dee didn’t answer straight away. Instead she ran her palm over her forehead like she had a fever. Babs was concerned properly now. ‘Nothing’s happened to little Natty—‘

  ‘No,’ Dee interrupted sharply. ‘Why don’t we get a cuppa in the caff downstairs?’

  That’s when Babs saw Dee’s eyes for the first time and she almost gasped. They were bloodshot and puffy. Her girl had been crying? It was about Jen she supposed. But, then again, she wasn’t so sure.

  Less than five minutes later they were in the small caff on the ground floor not far from the entrance. Dee had one of them fancy coffees and Babs a bog standard builders’ brew.

  ‘Now tell me what’s up?’ Babs started. ‘I know that you’re not yourself just coz of Jen – we all are – but there’s something else going on with you. You’ve said it ain’t our Natty, so what is it?’ She patted her daughter’s hand reassuringly. ‘You can tell me.’

  It had taken them so many years to become the mother and daughter that they were meant to be. The heartbreak of Babs not bringing up her mixed race daughter was behind them. They were tighter than a jar of peanut butter at a squirrel convention. They trusted each other.

  Dee gave her a strange, guarded look. ‘I met one of John’s mates from back in the day. You know how it is, we got chatting and stuff.’ She crossed her legs as she eased back in the wooden chair and gazed at her mum from unde
r her very curly faux eyelashes. ‘Then he asks me point blank if I’ve got a clue about the gold. You know, what happened to it.’

  Babs’ heart nearly stopped. Stay calm, she willed herself, there’s nothing going on. ‘Bloody cheeky beggar. I hope you told him to stick his nosey hooter where the sun don’t shine.’

  Dee let out a low laugh. ‘Yeah, something like that.’ Her green-brown eyes fixed on Babs. ‘You ever wondered what happened to it?’

  Babs almost choked on a mouthful of tea. But no one knew apart from her and Pearl. And the fuckwit who had thieved it, of course.

  ‘The gold?’ she managed to say with the innocence of the angels. ‘After all the cack it brought into our lives?’ Babs thumped the table slightly with annoyance, not caring you might look over. ‘I don’t care where it pissed off to as long as it stays there.’

  She shook her shoulders desperately seeking something to change the subject. ‘Now tell me all about how my grandson’s getting on with his new nanny.’

  Dee didn’t answer; instead she kept her gaze peeled on Babs. ‘Do you think someone has got it?’

  ‘Got what?’ Babs was getting really uneasy. And frightened.

  Dee pushed her cup slightly to the side to give her space to lean forward. ‘I mean, what would you do if you had all that gold?’

  Babs smacked her lips together with displeasure. ‘Know what I’d do with it if it were sat here right now? I’d friggin’ shove each bar down your throat coz I can’t make head nor tail of why you’re asking me these bollocks questions.’ Not until she reached the end did Babs realise she was almost out of puff. ‘What are you, the fucking police? I don’t know where the gold is – OK? Satisfied? Unless someone’s told you different.’

  Dee grabbed her hand. Squeezed. ‘Sorry Babs. It’s just, you know, it vanishing like that. It’s strange, isn’t it?’ She pierced Babs with a laser stare. ‘So you don’t know anything about it?’

  Babs snatched her hand back and threw both hands in the air. ‘What is this? Where’s this come from? I’ve said till I’m blue in the face I don’t wanna know. Have you forgotten that that gold was probably why your hubby keeled over and his toes turned up, poor fella?’