by Karen Woods
“Yes, how cool is that? I just knew there was something more to her, she was just lost, misunderstood.”
Mikey smirked and scraped the chocolate from his front tooth. “We’re all lost, we just need saving babes, that’s all.”
Sarah’s expression changed as she moved closer to him. “She’s not been feeling herself though. She said she thinks someone’s following her. I told her she’s imagining it but she insists someone’s got her card marked.”
Mikey nearly choked laughing. “That will be the weed that, it always sends her a bit paranoid.”
“No, she’s carted the drugs. She’s had nothing for weeks.” Mikey sat looking puzzled. Perhaps leopards did change their spots after all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As Rachel walked around the shopping centre in a world of her own, she seemed at peace with herself. She was fresh today and her skin was glowing, rosy red cheeks. It was market day and she could hear all the traders shouting loudly trying to sell their wares. “Come on ladies, a bunch of bananas only a pound. King Kong even eats them they’re that good, grab yourself a bunch.” Rachel smirked, she couldn’t help but giggle. His comment really tickled her. Harpurhey was somewhere she loved to live and no matter how many times she’d heard on the news that it was a deadbeat area she always enjoyed the humour of the people. They all looked out for each other, if you fought one, you fought them all. She strolled down the market aisles knowing she had a few quid to spend. This was a first, usually every penny was spoken for. Every payday she would have to pay her dealer what she owed them, usually she’d ticked about forty quid’s worth of weed, sometimes more if she was stressed. But now there were no more drugs in her life and it was only now she realised how much of her weekly benefit was taken up by her addiction. She’d been a fool, she realised that now. A bright pink top caught her eye, a colour she loved. She’d not dressed in anything remotely colourful in years. Her clothes were like her mood; dark and dreary.
“How much love?” she asked the trader as she ran her fingers over the silk fabric.
The man was smiling now. He was all over her like a rash. It was time for his sales pitch. “Two for a tenner love or five ninety-nine each.”
Rachel knew the script like the back of her hand. She loved a bit of bartering and in her role as shoplifter she knew full well she’d have to cough up some cash. Thinking for a few seconds, she pushed her hand deep into her coat pocket. “I’ll have this pink one and a purple one love. I’ve not seen anything this nice for time.”
“It will look lovely on you, that will. I’ll tell you something for nothing, these tops are like rocking horse shit. I swear Selfridges in town have sold out of them. I got them cheap if you know what I mean.” The man tapped the side of his nose and checked the area behind him. What a load of shite this was. It was the same story whenever she bought anything around here, everybody had the spiel to make you think you were getting a bargain. Rachel smirked and handed the cash over. For the first time in ages she was smiling. Life wasn’t that bad after all. Her usually morbid world was now an array of bright colour and her outlook on life was changing day by day. She had positive thoughts, a reason to get up each morning. She turned on the spot and set off to browse the other stalls. Rachel stood still and clocked a shoe stall not far from where she stood. And, even though she was trying to turn over a new leaf, she just couldn’t help herself. Shoplifting was in her blood and she couldn’t resist but lift a pair of black boots on the way past. She was quick and nobody clocked her. They went straight in her carrier bag, no messing about. It was cold today and her feet were perished. So it wasn’t really a crime in her eyes, it was an act of looking after herself. Aromas of food floated around her as she neared a burger van. The smell of the onions was making her hungry, she felt pains in the pit of her stomach. After a few seconds she decided to join the queue with her mouth watering. She needed to taste the big fat burgers she could see being made.
“Rach, oh my god I’ve not seen you for years,” a voice suddenly shrieked from behind. Rachel turned her head quickly and there she was, the biggest gobshite she’d ever met in her life, Gemma Lucas. Rachel had known this woman for over twenty years, they went to the same school together years before. Gemma was a storyteller and if something was going on in the area, she would be the first to know all about it. A proper shit-stirrer she was, a right mixing bitch. She casually patted Rachel’s arm. “How are you cock, I’ve not seen you in donkey’s years. Are you still up to no good? I bet you are, you’ll never change you!”
Rachel was blushing and she watched as a few other customers turned around to get a better look of her. “I’m sound, love just doing a bit of shopping. What you up to?”
Gemma held a single hand on the side of her waist and here it was, the gossip, the rumours, the news in the area. “Your Mikey’s in deep shit isn’t he? One of the lads told me about him having Davo’s money off. Is he fucked in the head or what? That crank will kill him.”
Rachel just stood listening, there was no way she was airing her dirty washing in public. She kept cool and answered, “It is what it is, Gemma. I don’t think our Mikey’s arsed anyway, he’s in the nick isn’t he. At least he’s safe in there for now.”
Gemma licked her dry cracked lips and moved in closer. Her voice was low and she knew exactly what she was doing. “Well, that’s why I’m telling you. Davo’s been lifted and landed in the same jail as your lad. His girlfriend told me last night. I mean, I didn’t even know Mikey had gone to the Farms did I?”
Rachel’s faced dropped, what a grim reaper this woman was. She loved it really, she enjoyed seeing other people go under, watching the pain she’d caused. “Is that where Davo is then?” Rachel enquired.
Gemma was louder than ever and she was drawing attention to herself. “I swear on our little Daniel’s life, he landed there last week. His girlfriend said he’s still on the induction wing for now so he’s not hit the main landing yet. You’d better warn Mikey because he’ll be scheming to stitch him up. You know what he’s like, he’s as sly as they come.”
Rachel was in no mood to listen to her anymore. It was her turn to get served and she turned her back on Gemma. This was bad news, Davo was a bad arse and she knew without a doubt he would be making a beeline for her son once he found out he was in the same jail. Rachel got served and said a quick goodbye to Gemma. There was no more talking, no more gossip, she had to get a message to Mikey. He was in deep shit, big danger.
*
Rachel had been trying her son’s phone all day but he wasn’t answering. There were only certain times in the day when he could get on the blower. It was way too early for him to take the risk of bringing the mobile out of its hideout until after bang up. Rachel sent him endless text messages, desperate to warn him that he was a marked man. Checking the clock on the wall, she smiled over at her mother. “Mam, I’m gonna get going. My head’s been all over today and I’m knackered. I don’t know if I’m coming or going. You don’t mind do you?”
Agnes was reading her weekly magazine and dropped it onto her lap. Her eyes held sadness and her voice was endearing. Of course she minded, she hated being alone. “I thought we could have shared a bite to eat love, nothing much, just some pie and chips. It would be nice to have a bit of company for a change to tell you the truth. Night after night I sit here on my own. Sometimes I just wish your dad was here. I miss him so much!” Agnes’ husband Ged had died ten years ago and every day her heart craved him by her side again. Rachel knew exactly what she meant and her heart sank. She raised a smile and looked at her mum.
Rachel was hungry and the thought of going home having to make something to eat was something she was not looking forward to. She’d have probably have only made a piece of toast, nothing special. She didn’t take much persuading to stay a little while longer. “Go on then mam, I’ll have something to eat before I go. I mean, it’s not as if anyone is sat waiting for me is it?”
Agnes stood and walked to her daught
er’s side and patted her on the shoulder. “You’re in no rush to find a man either love. You should spend some time on your own and sort yourself out. You seem to attract the wrong type anyway, dead-legs they are. Men who don’t have a day’s work inside them, cadging fuckers.”
Rachel held her tongue, this was one debate she didn’t want to get involved in. They would argue for days over it if she even made one comment regarding her relationship. Rachel stood and walked over to the living room window as her mother left the room. With her arms stretched high above her head, she peered outside. She was watching a moth flying deliriously near the window, crashing into the glass, spinning in the air, mesmerised by the light from inside the room. Moving the curtains slightly, she stood back and froze, her jaw dropped low. There he was again, she was sure of it, hidden in the shadows. Sprinting to the living room door, she yanked it open and stormed out of the front door like a full force hurricane. Her feet pounded the pavement and there was no stopping her, she was on her toes, sprinting, full steam ahead. Soon she was weaving through the traffic to try to get to the spot where she’d clocked him. Cars honked their horns and wheels were screeching. A van just missed her, she was dicing with death. Rachel reached the side of the bus stop. Her eyes flicked one way, then the other. There wasn’t a living soul there. Her head twisted around, still nothing. She stumbled around the other side of the bus stop, nothing. Was she having a nervous breakdown here or was it her mind playing tricks on her? She was sure it was Gary, she knew he would turn up sooner or later when he was on his arse. That was his game, he would never just come and admit he was wrong, he would just stalk her until he found the courage to say sorry. Plonking down on the floor inside the shelter, she held her head in her hands. The wind howled past her, echoing inside her eardrums, she was sure she’d seen him, she would have put money on it. The sound of the traffic flew by and she was just sat there in her own little world, scared of the thought that she could be losing the plot. She cradled her knees to her chest and sat shivering on the cold pavement. Hold on, what did she spot, her eyes were wide open, her breathing stopped for a split second. Rachel scrambled to her feet and bent her body over slightly. The thick grey smoke from the cigarette was still circling above it, blowing side to side in the wind. So, she was right after all. Somebody was there, otherwise where had the burning cigarette come from? She let out a laboured breath and started to head back across the road with caution. She wasn’t going daft after all or losing her marbles. There was someone watching her. And if it was Gary, she was going to give him a smack right in the face for scaring her like this. What a wanker he was!
*
Mark sat down with his wife for tea. The mortgage had been paid and everything was rosy in the garden. Tracy had never asked where the extra money came from, she knew better than to question him. As long as the bills were paid, she wasn’t arsed. It was her husband who had blown the money, so it was up to him to put it back. Gone were the days when she’d run around to her family begging them all to help bail her out. Tracy stabbed her fork into a chip on her plate. She was a right greedy bitch and her stomach was never full. She blamed it on boredom. She actually said that if her life was more exciting, she would never munch so many calories. The silver fork scraped along her plate. “You’re quiet tonight, what’s up with you?”
Mark played with the food on his plate and rolled a few peas around on the end of his fork. “Nothing, I’m just tired that’s all. I’ve had a crap day, too. I swear, once I get the chance of something better I’m moving on. This job is killing me.”
Tracy had heard all this before. Every day he told her about some inmate who was doing his head in. He’d had many a sleepless night about them as well. The prisoners just pecked away at his head twenty-four hours a day. It was always an endless battle to get up each morning for work and lately he hated every minute he was working in the prison service. Rolling his sleeve up slightly, Mark checked his watch casually. “I’ve got to nip to Smithy’s soon love. He wants to borrow my squash racket.”
Tracy sniggered and held the bottom of her stomach. “Well, you may as well give it to him. I mean, when was the last time you did a bit of exercise? I wasn’t going to mention it but you are piling the pounds on lately. Especially around the waistline.”
Mark gulped his glass of water back and shot a look over at her. What a cheeky cow she was. He’d never said what he thought about her weight gain over the years and here she was slating him in his own home regarding a bit of extra blubber, his ‘winter warmer’ as he liked to call it. Mark blushed and patted his stomach with a flat palm and tried to make a joke out of it. He was raging inside but kept his cards close to his chest. He raised his eyebrows and casually flicked a comment over to her. This would teach her to belittle him and make him feel worthless. “Yep, it happens to the best of us love. I think we both need to go on a diet. Your cheeks look like they’re storing nuts for winter.”
This was below the belt and he loved watching her face drop. Her expression changed and she clenched her teeth together tightly. “What do you mean both of us, you cheeky get? I’ve lost over two pounds this week, I’ll have you know. You don’t see me munching biscuit after biscuit do you? At least I bleeding try.”
Mark smirked. He was clever like that, he could bring her down a peg or two whenever she got above her station. Tracy had a face like a smacked arse and you could have cut the atmosphere with a knife. She didn’t say a word, she just sat snarling over at him. He’d done it now, he was in her bad books. Pushing her plate away from her, Tracy folded her arms tightly and her nostrils flared. She was fuming. How dare this bastard insult her like this? She’d seen her arse. “I’m going to bed early tonight and don’t be waking me up when you get back in either. You can sleep on the sofa for all I care.”
There it was, she just couldn’t help herself. This was the usual sort of stuff that always followed any argument - the sex ban. The ‘you can kiss my arse’ moment. Mark whistled about the room and he knew he’d rattled her cage. “If you can’t take it, don’t give it,” he mumbled under his breath so she couldn’t hear him. “No worries love, I’ll be as quiet as a mouse. I might even pop in the boozer if you’re planning an early night and have a few scoops with the lads.” Mark was on a roll, what a result he had - a free pass to go and chill with the local lads down at the pub. She said herself she was tired, so there was no way she could come back at him with any moaning about spending quality time with her. Bending down slightly, he pecked his warm lips on the side of her cheek. She was like an ice maiden, she never flinched. “Night love, sleep tight,” he shouted over his shoulder as he left.
The front door banged shut and shook the house. Tracy was alone. “Fuck off, you smarmy bastard,” she cursed as she booted the chair from under the table. Tracy pulled her top up and stared at her muffin top, examining every inch of it, grabbing the lard. Her husband was such an arsehole and he’d put her on a complete downer now for the rest of the night. How dare he bring up her weight gain! What a bastard he was, he knew exactly what he’d done. She picked her fork up and carried on eating the food left on the side of her plate, comfort eating.
Mark stood in the darkness waiting for the last parcel to be delivered. He would never do this again. The last bit of money from the drop was going in the bank. He would never get
himself in this state again. It was all stopping. The stress was killing him. A silver car pulled up at the side of him and turned its lights off, the engine just ticking over slightly. This was a quiet street and very few cars ever drove up it. There were a few lovers every now and then but they were always parked up away from prying eyes, out of sight not wanting to be disturbed. Mark had had a couple of nights here too; a drunken fling with the barmaid from the Fat Ox. Fuck buddies they were, always there for each other when times were hard, no questions asked, just pure filthy sex. Mark scoured the area before he stepped out from his hideout. His breathing was noisier than usual. He rushed toward the waiting vehicle an
d once he was at the side of it he opened the car door with shaking hands. This looked shady as fuck. Anyone who was watching this scene would have put two and two together and worked out what was going on. It wasn’t rocket science. The man in the driver’s seat was wearing a dark cap and the peak was pulled right over the top of his eyes. His body dipped into his seat. Mark sat on the passenger side as he handed over the goods. It wasn’t that big really, but it was bound tightly together with clingfilm. Drugs, miniature phones, steroids, it was all there inside the bundle.
“You got the cash?” Mark asked, he never looked the guy directly in the eye. There was rustling, coughing and the sound of cash being counted.
The male’s voice was chilling and he put the fear of God in Mark. “There you go, you bent bastard. Make sure it lands too. But, remember,” he paused and went nose to nose with him, “if it doesn’t, I’ll find you. And you don’t want that to happen do you?”
Mark’s heart was racing and he knew he was a sitting duck. He had to get out of there before things got out of hand. He counted the money quickly. It was all there, a done deal. The car door flung open and he jumped out, aware he could be stuck from behind. He never said goodbye, he just walked away at speed with his head dipped. That was a close call and he was made aware of how deep he was into all this now. The guy was right though, he was a bent bastard, bought for thirty pieces of silver, a dirty lying Judas. Mark’s nightmare was nearly over in his eyes after this parcel landed. There would be no more sucking up to that little prick Mikey Milne. Yes, this was over and he planned to get his life back on track as soon as this parcel was out of his hands.
Marching down the street, he zipped his coat and turned his collar up to protect his neck from the bitter wind. He was gagging for a pint and maybe even a game of cards to help him chill out. His head was mashed. Sheila the barmaid was on her shift tonight, so if she was feeling a bit frisky later on, he could sling one up her before the night was over, a quick knee-trembler. Mark marched into the public house and ruffled his fingers through his hair. The wind had messed it up and he looked like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. There was lots of noise, laughter and banter between the punters. This was a man’s pub and few women were sat about, except for the usual bikes that everyone had ridden at one time or another. The card table here was well known in the area and you had to be a fool or pissed out of your head if you ever sat around it. Men had lost everything in seconds here at the drop of a hat; cars, gold and life savings. Each and every one thought they had the hand to make a difference to their lives; the aces, the kings, the queens; but they never did. Sheila called it the devil’s table. There were so many fights caused by the card games and we’re not talking little scuffles here either. Punters had been stabbed, knocked out and even shot. Where there was money, there was always trouble and the Fat Ox was well known for it. The residents in the area had tried to have the pub closed down more than once. It was an eyesore and just caused youths to hang about near it. You could get whatever you wanted in this boozer. Knocked-off clobber, food, gold, drugs... There was always someone selling something right from the back of a wagon.
