by Jacqui Rose
Shannon whispered even though she had locked the door – something that she never usually did. She had always left it open, hoping, in the back of her mind, that Vaughn might come in, but now she was locking it hoping to keep him out. ‘I didn’t sleep at all. How the hell do you expect me to sleep with you here?’
‘This bed is the best I’ve slept in. I’ll give it to Vaughn, he certainly knows how to choose a mattress.’
Shannon’s eyes were wide open with fear. ‘Just keep your voice down.’
Charlie rolled over towards Shannon. ‘I could get used to this.’
‘You have to leave. You hear me, you’ve got to get out. If Vaughn finds you …’
Charlie put his finger over her mouth and Shannon winced in disgust as he grinned at her, his stale breath warm on her face. ‘Sshhhh, Shan, what’s all the drama for? It’s like home from home. And to tell you the truth I could do with some TLC from you.’
Shannon sat up, staring down at her uncle. Her voice shook. ‘Uncle Charlie, I’m begging you, please just go.’
‘You’ve been doing a lot of begging recently, Shan. Anyone would think you didn’t care about me.’
With her eyes full of worry, Shannon grabbed hold of Charlie’s fat hairy shoulders and shook him, desperate for him to listen. ‘You can’t do this to me, you can’t!’
‘That’s where you’re wrong, darlin’, I can do anything I want. And I’m going to start with this.’ He pushed down the covers to expose himself, his fat stomach lying on top of his half-erect penis. He cackled as he began to caress himself. ‘Get your lips around that.’
Backing away off the bed, Shannon shook her head, her whole body trembling. ‘I don’t want to … I don’t want to.’
Nastily, Charlie stared at his niece. ‘I don’t care if you want to or not. But if you don’t want to, I could always call Vaughn in, tell him how you invited me to stay.’
‘You wouldn’t do that to me.’
‘Oh but Shan, you know I would. Do you want to put it to the test?’
Shannon shook her head violently. She put her hands over her face, speaking through her fingers, which were wet with her tears. ‘He wouldn’t believe you anyway. He would know that you’re lying.’
Again Charlie cackled. ‘Don’t kid yourself, Shan. For starters how are you going to explain me being naked in your bed, and secondly but more importantly, underneath it all he knows the truth about you.’
Taking her hands away from her face, Shannon whimpered. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Well he knows you’re a dirty little skank. A whore through and through.’
Unable to stop herself, Shannon shrieked. ‘Don’t say that, don’t say that!’ The minute her words came out she slammed her hands over her mouth. And a second later, there was a knock on her bedroom door.
‘Shannon, are you all right in there? What’s going on?’
It was Vaughn.
‘Shannon!’
Trembling, her eyes darted to Charlie who lay on the bed, pleasuring himself. He winked at her and whispered, ‘One word from me, Shan, and your perfect little life here is over. You’ll be back on the streets, back in the gutter. Is that what you want?’
Shannon shook her head as Vaughn banged again on the door. ‘Shannon, answer me! What the fuck’s going on?’
With her heart racing she opened her mouth to speak but stopped as Uncle Charlie whispered again, ‘If you don’t want that, tell him everything’s fine. Go on …’
Shaking and trying to keep her voice sounding normal, Shannon spoke through the door. ‘Sorry about that, Vaughn, I was just having a row with one of my mates on the phone. I forgot how loud I can be.’
Vaughn answered suspiciously. ‘Who? I told you, Shan, I don’t want you mixing with your old crowd.’
Glancing again at Charlie, Shannon said, ‘Don’t worry, she’s not anyone from my past. Just someone I met in the park when I was with Mia … I got upset because she was saying mean things.’
‘Like what?’
Shannon thought quickly; she began to stutter as she struggled to come up with an answer. ‘That … that … that Mia didn’t look as well cared for as she should do. Making out like I wasn’t doing my job properly. I know I shouldn’t get so upset, but I’m doing me best.’
‘I know you are, honey. I think you’re doing a great job. And if it makes you feel any better, that would piss me off too. Maybe you should find yourself another friend, one that doesn’t go about saying shit like that … But are you okay, otherwise?’
Shannon leant her head against the wooden door; she breathed deeply and closed her eyes, feeling Vaughn’s presence on the other side. She wanted to scream and cry. She wanted Vaughn to break the door down and protect her. To care for her. To love her. To help her get away from Uncle Charlie. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t risk Vaughn not believing her. She couldn’t risk a life without him, so instead she just said, ‘I’m fine, thanks for asking … I’m just getting ready. I’ll be out in a bit.’
She listened to Vaughn’s footsteps disappear down the corridor before she slowly turned to Uncle Charlie, who grinned. ‘That wasn’t difficult, was it, Shan? Simple really. Now this is the way it’s going to go. I’ll keep quiet, I won’t break your cover and Vaughnie will never even know I’m here, but that’s as long as you do exactly what I say. Do we have a deal, Shan?’
Trembling, with tears running down her face and her nose streaming, Shannon was so distraught she couldn’t speak; she could only nod her head.
‘Good, Shan, good, that’s what I like to see … So now that’s all decided, how about we start as we mean to go on …’ He stopped to laugh and he winked again before grabbing his penis.
‘And then do you promise you’ll go?’
He winked at her then nodded. ‘Cross my heart … So come on then, what are you waiting for, Shan? Get your lips around this.’
19
Two days later, on Thursday afternoon, Alfie sat in the visitors’ room of Hartwood prison. The walls were painted a dull grey and the barred windows were thick with a film of dirt. The rusty-coloured threadbare carpet had dark stains dotted all over it, and a box of broken children’s toys sat in a grubby cream plastic box in the corner.
He looked around at the women and their visitors; some with children, some sitting there as if they’d rather be anywhere else, and some looking like it was the mother’s union tea party. The whole place was a buzz of noise, and a rancid smell sat alongside the tension in the air.
Chewing the same piece of gum he had been for the last half hour, he glanced over at the screws, giving them a dirty look. Most of them looked like they could rugby tackle him to the floor and most of them didn’t look like they’d need much excuse to do so.
Jesus, he felt uncomfortable. It was the very last place he wanted to be, visiting the very last person he wanted to come and see. And if it wasn’t for Huang, well, he wouldn’t even be within ten foot of the place.
He sighed and touched his face. It still hurt, though not as much as it had a couple of days ago, but then he guessed it also helped that Davey had given him some extra pills, which he didn’t know the name of but which took away most of the pain.
‘Hello, Alfie. Thanks for coming.’
He gazed up and standing there in front of him was Franny.
He held his breath. He hadn’t seen her for a couple of months or so and looking at her now seemed so surreal.
‘You’re looking …’ Franny paused. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word ‘well’, he was looking anything but well. His face was a rainbow of coloured bruises and cuts, his eye was a swollen mess and his lips looked so painful she could almost feel it herself.
Alfie, irritated by the fact he felt something other than hatred towards Franny, answered gruffly. ‘What? What am I looking? Because hopefully the only thing I do look like is a man who would rather be any-fucking-where but here.’
Franny sat down slowly, sliding into the seat to
sit opposite Alfie across the small prison table. She was surprised at how good it felt to see him. But then, she’d be pleased to see anyone who reminded her of the outside world at the moment.
So, maybe it was just a case of being stuck inside, with her feelings ranging from a sense of despair to a sense of anger – and God knows, certainly a sense of betrayal – that she was pleased to see Alfie.
Oh God, she didn’t know. Because she could feel the familiar tightness in her stomach when she looked at him. The excitement she’d mostly felt towards him. And if she really thought about it, she’d missed him. Because when had she actually stopped loving him? Well she hadn’t, had she?
The truth was over the past few months she’d had to put her walls up to help Bree and to keep everything a secret from Alfie. Then when she’d been arrested, she’d gone into survival mode because she had to. So, when it came down to it, underneath everything, there was a good chance, a really good chance, that what she was feeling was love … That was it. That was the point. She still loved him … not that it would do her any good at all. It would only make her weak, make her stupid, make her make wrong decisions.
So whether she did or not, it was really beside the point and, as such, without letting her feelings be known, she simply said, ‘I’m just shocked to see you looking like that.’
Alfie grabbed hold of her hands across the table, squeezing them tightly. Too tightly.
She winced but she didn’t say anything as he hissed through his teeth. ‘What were you expecting, Fran? To see me looking like I’ve just come back from the Costa? Because whether me face is battered or not, I ain’t ever going to be looking good after what you did.’
He let go of her hands and sat back, trying to keep his surging anger under control. ‘Anyway, you don’t look so pretty yourself. What happened?’
Automatically, Franny’s hand shot up to her nose – it was still sore from where Christine had smashed it with her elbow, and the impact had caused bruising under her eyes. ‘Let’s just say I had a run-in with a door.’
Trying not to feel instinctively protective over her, Alfie shrugged. ‘So, who did you turn over this time, Fran?’
Franny blinked and stared at Alfie coolly. ‘Like I say, I walked into a door. Anyway, tell me what happened with you?’
‘You’re a fucking ice queen, you know that? My head has been well and truly fucked up because of you and you’re sitting here like we’re old mates on a catch-up,’ Alfie raged, unable to hold his anger down anymore.
Franny’s expression didn’t change. ‘What do you want me to say, Alf?’
Alfie smashed his fist down on the table causing the prison officer to give him a warning stare. He lowered his voice but the rage inside him didn’t quieten down. ‘Are you for fucking real, Fran? Or maybe you’ve just lost it, maybe you just ain’t right in the head.’
Again, Franny’s demeanour was cool. ‘Look, Alf, I appreciate you coming to see me. I thought you wouldn’t come.’
Alfie’s face was red with rage. ‘Oh, believe me, darlin’, I never wanted to.’
A small smile appeared at the corner of Franny’s mouth. ‘Then why did you?’
At this point, Alfie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but he certainly wanted to scream, to grab her by her throat and shake some sense – some feeling – into her. His voice shook with anger as he spoke. ‘Desperate people have to sometimes do desperate things.’
‘What are you talking about?’
Alfie pointed at her. ‘Before we get into that, I just want to make it clear that I ain’t here because I want to be. You understand?’
Franny nodded, her face void of emotion. ‘I understand, Alf. You’ve made it quite clear.’
Rubbing his chin then instantly regretting it as the pain shot through his body, Alfie shook his head. ‘What happened to you, Fran? When did you become so hard? What happened to the woman I fell in love with?’
‘You make me sound like I was a Disney princess before. I was never that, Alf. You know that. We are who we are. I haven’t changed.’
Alfie’s eyes darted all over her face as if he was trying to work out a puzzle. ‘Fran, for fuck’s sake, have you forgotten what you did?’
Ignoring what he had said, Franny’s reply was detached. ‘Why are you here, Alf? What do you want?’
‘Don’t turn this around on me. You called me remember, Fran, or rather that prick of a solicitor did.’
‘Yes, but you came, which means you want something.’
Alfie’s reply wasn’t forthcoming. As much as he wanted to hate every part of her, he couldn’t, which in turn just made him angrier. As much as he wanted to believe that he’d like her to rot in this place, he actually wanted her home – back in his life, back in his bed, back together. And just knowing he felt like that incensed him.
He whispered, and Franny had to bend across to hear him and he hated how good it felt to be close to her, ‘You are a fucking cold-hearted bitch.’
She whispered back, ‘If it makes it easier for you to think like that, then that’s fine.’
Alfie stared at her, his blue eyes penetrating hers. ‘I don’t think it. I know it. You lied to me, over and over again. You kept my … my … you kept Mia from me and then you killed Bree. How else could I possibly see you?’
Franny sat up. She regarded Alfie for a moment before saying, ‘You’re right, I did lie to you, but you’ve lied to me on many occasions. And I did keep Mia from you, but at the time it was for the best.’
‘Says who?’ Alfie said, incredulously.
For the first time in the conversation, Franny’s tone and the look in her eyes softened. ‘The life we’re in, it ain’t a life for a little girl. It ain’t really a life for anyone. I was born into it, you fell into it – but neither of us would choose it.’
‘How fucking dare you play judge and jury! I was her father.’
‘You still are.’
Alfie shook his head. ‘No, sweetheart, you put paid to that. I don’t want anything to do with her.’
Franny blinked slowly. Her voice was tense. ‘Who’s looking after her, then?’
‘Shannon.’
It was Franny’s turn to raise her voice. ‘Shannon? Are you being serious? How could you leave that crackhead looking after Mia? Anything might happen to her. You will not leave her there another day. You need to go and pick her up, do you hear me, Alf?’
‘The days of me listening to you are well and truly gone.’
Franny’s face darkened but she didn’t say what she was thinking. Instead she stared at him coolly, took a deep breath and said, ‘You’re wrong about one thing. I didn’t kill Bree. I didn’t touch her. It was an accident and Vaughn knows that, but he and Shannon are trying to set me up.’
20
Claire Martin drove along the high street. She was deep in thought and the presenter’s voice on Radio Four was a distant murmur as her mind raced from the Doyle case to the house repairs she needed doing in her front lounge to the non-existent holidays she was supposed to book – and finally to Tony Balantyne.
She hit the wheel with her fist, not wanting to think about him. She wasn’t sure what it was about that man, but he bothered her like no one she’d ever met. And it certainly didn’t help that in less than five minutes, she was going to pick him up for one of the management task meetings the Chief Super insisted she attend.
When she’d heard that the Super had roped in Balantyne she’d tried to get out of going, but even though he knew about her past relationship with Balantyne, he’d ignored all her appeals to be excused from attending.
To make matters worse, the Super hadn’t just insisted she go, but he insisted that she and Balantyne travel down to Dorset together, in what he called a bonding session. It was a complete joke. The last thing she needed was any kind of bonding session with anyone, least of all Tony.
As if her thoughts had conjured him up, Balantyne appeared on the corner of Newell Street. She beeped her horn, then in
dicated and pulled over.
Sighing, she watched him saunter up to the car, and reaching over the passenger seat, she opened the door for him.
On edge and cursing the Chief Super for the hundredth time that day, Balantyne slid into the cream leather passenger seat. Without turning to look at Claire, he stayed staring ahead and simply said, ‘Ma’am.’
About to drive off, Claire gripped the wheel and with emotion getting the better of her, she spoke. ‘Look, Tony, I don’t like this any more than you do. I tried to get out of it but the Super was having none of it, so why don’t we try to make the most of a really shit situation?’
‘Whatever you say, ma’am. You’re the boss.’
Infuriated, Claire stared at the side of Tony’s head. ‘For Christ’s sake look at me, Tony.’
‘No, I’m good, thanks.’
Trying to think of something else to say, Claire asked, ‘So how’s the Doyle case coming along?’
‘Slowly, but then it would be, wouldn’t it?’
‘What, because you have to play it by the book? That’s the only way, Tony.’
‘If you say so, but the CPS aren’t happy that the case is based on pretty circumstantial evidence.’
‘You’ve got the statements though.’
Balantyne shook his head. ‘If they stick. They’re hardly ideal witnesses, are they? A gangster and a crackhead.’
‘That doesn’t mean they’re not telling the truth though, does it?’
Balantyne stayed tight-lipped and eventually Claire filled the silence again. ‘Why are you being like this with me? I won’t let any officer of mine cut corners. Or is this about the fact that I got the job and you didn’t?’
Tony, against his better judgement, turned to look at Claire. ‘No, ma’am, it’s not. I won’t say it didn’t bother me because it did, at first. To be looked over for a job because of …’ He stopped, not wishing to go into it any more than he had already. The truth was if it wasn’t for what happened with Emma at the party a couple of years ago and then what had happened afterwards, he probably would’ve got the promotion. No question. And it did get to him, but it wasn’t all there was to it. The fact was he resented Claire for ending it with him. He resented her taking away the one piece of happiness he had in his life, and because of that, he resented Emma even more and his hatred for her grew each day.
