by Jacqui Rose
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Harry stood at the door staring with total contempt at Tammy.
Taking a long drag of the cigarette, Tammy pouted out her full red lips. ‘Waiting for you.’
‘In my wife’s room? Get the fuck out.’
Tammy flinched at the words, smarting at the fact that Harry wasn’t pleased to see her. Though of course she didn’t show it; she just smiled seductively. ‘Harry, baby, come on, let me help you unwind.’
Incensed, Harry ran towards her, dragging her off the bed by her long, blonde-streaked hair. His face twisted up in rage. ‘This is my wife’s room! I don’t want you in here. Understand? You may think this is some kind of joke, you little slut, and you may think it’s okay to wind up your sister, but don’t you fucking dare try to wind up me. You understand?’
Holding on to his hands to try to stop him pulling her hair so hard, Tammy nodded and gave a tiny squeal as the pain ripped through her head.
‘Okay, good, I’m glad we’ve got that sorted and if I find you in here again, I won’t be responsible for my actions. Understand?’ He let Tammy go, pushing her across the floor where she fell into a heap, and he stared at her hard.
Looking at Tammy of course made Harry think of Tia, which in turn made him feel angry.
Since Tia had come home yesterday, she’d been more distant with him than ever before, and that was saying something.
He was under no illusions and knew that Tia wouldn’t be within a mile of him if it wasn’t for the kids. When he looked at her, he could see the cold hatred in her eyes and the unhappiness that exuded from her. But what was he supposed to do? He’d tried with her, given her everything and still she was a cold-hearted bitch towards him. Yet she still had a way of getting under his skin. She always had done.
And it wasn’t just because she was his wife and in his eyes that meant forever or at least until he said so. It was more than that, so much more. She had a hold on him. He’d asked himself many a time why he didn’t just let her go, and each time he came up with the same answer, he couldn’t.
He just couldn’t let her go because he wanted her. Every minute of every hour of every day he wanted her, and he hated her for it. Hated the fact that she was right there in his head.
It wasn’t just her beauty. He knew that because her sister had the same face, the same nose, the same-shaped body but unlike Tia, Tammy meant nothing to him. She was just a bit of sport.
Taking Tammy as a lover, he thought it might have broken the spell Tia had unknowingly had over him but instead it’d only made it worse. It’d fucked with his head seeing the face and body of Tia without her actually being there.
And when Tia had actually found out he was sleeping with her sister, she hadn’t said anything. She hadn’t kicked off at all, which had made him want to hurt her all the more. He’d wanted her to scream and shout and show him she cared but all she’d done was look at him with even more contempt.
Even when she’d come home from court yesterday and found that he’d moved Tammy in, she still hadn’t reacted, and it pissed him off to no end. He wanted to get under Tia’s skin as much as she got under his; he wanted her to suffer like he did. And he did. He suffered because he hated her and was captivated by her in equal measures, which in turn gave way to an all-consuming jealousy, which was why he needed to know where Tia was at all times.
The thought of any other man even looking at her made him want to kill someone. It made him irrational with anger which, ironically, was directed at Tia. Though it wasn’t as if she didn’t deserve suspicion. It wasn’t as if she was purely innocent. Oh no, his wife was a slippery cow and she certainly couldn’t be trusted.
He hadn’t known anything about her plan to walk out on him until it actually happened, though looking back all the signs had been there. She’d disappear for hours on end and when he questioned her about where she’d been she was evasive. For some reason he couldn’t explain now, he’d just let her get on with it, never imagining she’d be brave enough to do anything stupid.
And the only reason Tia was still breathing, still alive today, was because she left him not for another man, but to fight some silly battle she could never win, and he could just about forgive her for that. Just about. Because if she had left him for another man, that would be an entirely different matter. She knew there’d be no hiding place for her then because however long it took, he’d find her, fuck her, and finish her. After all, she was his wife and in his eyes that meant doing what he wanted with her.
Having wound himself up, Harry – leaving Tammy on the floor – angrily stalked out of the bedroom as he pulled his mobile out of his pocket. He dialled a number but it went straight to voicemail. Then almost shaking with rage, he pressed another number, waiting for it to dial out, but after a few rings it went to voicemail as well. He growled down the phone.
‘You better have a good fucking reason why you ain’t calling me back cos I need to have a word with my wife and she ain’t answering and now you’re not either and I don’t want to talk to some cunt’s answer machine, so you need to call me back now … Oh, and remember, Vaughn, we have a deal. I gave you my word I’d keep Wan and his men off your back. But if you think that you can fuck me off, fuck me over, then I’d think again, mate, unless of course you want that lot to come and get you. So if I were you I’d answer your phone so I can speak to my FUCKING WIFE!’
11
Lamb’s Conduit Street was as busy as ever with café goers and ambling tourists as Tia made her way towards Russell Square.
Turning into a small street, she headed towards a house with a large, freshly painted blue front door, which stood next to a florist’s.
Under the grey sky of London, feeling a cold chill, Tia shivered as she stood on the doorstep and rang the bell. She glanced around, more out of habit than thinking she’d been followed, though she knew she couldn’t be too careful.
Within moments the door was opened by a heavily made-up woman who was wearing a ruched red dress and a warm smile. She greeted Tia cheerily.
‘Hello, darlin’, you look like you’re freezing your tits off. Come in, sweetheart.’ But then she stopped and stared at Tia. Her lips pursed. ‘What’s that on your face? Harry been knocking you about again?’
Tia touched her cheek, and shrugged. ‘It is what it is, Lydia. It ain’t so bad.’ She followed Lydia into the house which, like the front door, had been freshly painted but in muted colours of grey and pink. Wanting to get the topic of conversation away from herself, Tia asked, ‘You been all right?’
‘Not too bad, shouldn’t grumble though we fucking do, don’t we?’ Lydia said as she cackled warmly.
Going through to a room at the back – which always reminded Tia of the bedroom she’d stayed in the first night she’d been put into a foster home – she sat down wearily as Lydia, house proud as always, fluffed the pink cushions on the bed.
‘I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it today,’ Tia said as she took off her jacket in the excessively hot room.
Lydia raised her eyebrows and came to sit opposite Tia on one of the cream flowered couches. ‘I’m sorry to hear about what happened at court. But it don’t surprise me. He was never going to let you go. We both know that.’
Trying to stop the tears pricking at her eyes, Tia absentmindedly picked up the teddy bear that was next to her on the sofa. ‘I know it was stupid but I had to try. I just thought if I could get the kids, then I could get a place for us all and Milly would have some kind of home again. You should see the place she’s in, Lydia. It’s a dump and I feel so guilty cos I know she needs me. She’s sixteen and eight months pregnant and she ain’t got a pot to piss in either.’
Looking sympathetic, Lydia reached out and held Tia’s hands. ‘But she’s got you ain’t she, lovie? And that’s the main thing. She’s not the first kid who’s got no money and is having a baby in some shithole and she won’t be the last. Look at us – weren’t much older than her when we got up the duff. You
had Milly young, and you not only survived, you did a bloody great job with her.’
Allowing the tears to come, Tia shook her head. ‘I want more for her though.’
‘I know, darlin’, and you’ll get more. It’ll work out, I know it will, but it’s just going to take time. I’m only sorry I can’t offer Milly a place to stay here, but you know what my poxy landlord’s like; he’s a right bastard and well, let’s face it, it ain’t really the right environment for Milly, is it?’
Tia looked at Lydia and smiled. She was grateful for a friend like Lydia. Someone who was always there for her, someone who never judged her no matter what.
She’d known Lydia for years, since she was a teenager, and although she was ten years older, Lydia had always looked out for her. Though of course, Tia kept her friendship with Lydia a secret from Harry. He didn’t want her to have friends; he didn’t want her to have anyone in her life apart from him.
‘I know, it’s just I hate seeing her where she is. But it’s the only place I can afford and you know as well as I do, even that’s a scrape. And it’s not like I can get any money from Harry. He checks all the bank statements and even if I buy a whole heap of designer gear, I can’t even sell it cos he ain’t stupid; he wants to see that as well. Harry basically thinks if I’ve got money, I’ve got power and that’s something he’s never wanted me to have.’
Nodding sympathetically, Lydia stuffed a piece of gum in her mouth. ‘He’s got you proper locked down, darlin’, but you know you’ll always have here.’
‘I appreciate that, Lydia. But the problem I’ve got now is trying to get out. It was bad enough before, him never letting me come or go as I please, but now I’ve got me own babysitter.’
Getting up and walking towards the door, Lydia asked. ‘What you talking about?’
‘He trusts me less than he did before, so he’s given me my own minder. And you’ll never guess who it is … It’s Vaughn.’
A look of shock crossed Lydia’s face. ‘What? You kidding me?’
Tia shook her head. ‘No. It’s Vaughn. Vaughn Sadler.’
Whilst Tia was talking to Lydia, a mile and a half away Vaughn was stomping across Oxford Street, barging angrily through the crowd of tourists sauntering across the road. He sighed as he felt his phone going off again. Fuck. It was the sixth time that Harry had called him and it was the sixth time that he’d ignored it. And each time he did, each time he didn’t answer it, he didn’t even need to try to imagine how Harry was feeling – he knew.
Harry would be gunning for him big time, ready to read him the riot act, which was something he knew that he couldn’t afford for Harry to do. He had to keep him on side, had to be some sort of frigging lap dog because he knew only too well that if Harry decided to drop him, to go back on the decision to help him out, then Wan and his men would sweep in like vultures. Then, it’d only be a matter of time before he was a dead man.
Hurrying along, he thought about switching off his mobile. There was a temptation to do so but he had no doubt that such an action would incite Harry’s anger even more and at the moment it was all about damage limitation.
Hearing a text buzz through, he pulled his phone out of his Hawes & Curtis taupe suede jacket to read it.
Where the fuck are you, you cunt?
Shoving it back in his pocket, Vaughn, seething with anger at the situation he was in, made his way through to Ramillies Street, contemplating the bollocking he’d give to Tia as well as trying to figure out how the hell he was supposed to tell Harry that on the first day of minding her, he’d lost her.
And the truth was, walking along the street now, he had no idea where he was supposed to find her; he was really only going from street to street to make himself feel better, to make himself feel like he was one step closer to laying his eyes on her and one step closer to being able to phone Harry back and feed him some bullshit about why he hadn’t answered in the first place.
Approaching Great Marlborough Street, Vaughn suddenly froze as he caught sight of a familiar person. A person he wanted to speak to. But it wasn’t Tia, it was Franny. Franny Doyle, the person he hated more than he’d ever hated anyone in his life and the person who’d caused all this mess in the first place.
And even though he knew he probably shouldn’t, even though he knew he would be better off just searching for Tia, Vaughn couldn’t help himself and he began to follow Franny. For now, Harry and Tia would just have to wait.
12
Back at Lydia’s house, Tia stood and looked into the mirror. She sighed, hating what she saw, though it wasn’t the tiredness or the tiny lines around her eyes that she hated, and it wasn’t the fact that she’d lost too much weight from all the stress. It wasn’t even the fact that her long, blonde hair looked dull and tired, it was herself she hated. It was what she’d become … again.
There was a knock at the door and Tia, not feeling it but sounding it, shouted cheerily, ‘Hi, come in.’
Lydia put her head around the door and grinned. ‘You ready, darlin’?’
Nodding, Tia finished putting on her red lipstick. ‘To tell you the truth, I just ain’t in the mood.’
Lydia cackled and nodded. ‘I haven’t been in the mood for the last forty years, pet … You all right?’
Tia spun around on the stool. ‘Ignore me, it’s just one of them days. I guess I just have to think of the kids but Harry’s not even letting me see them really. He’s playing games with me. Still, at least I’m not cut out of their life completely.’
Lydia gave a genuine smile. ‘That’s right, darlin’, look on the bright side and one day them kids will be big and Harry won’t have a hold on you anymore, not like the way he does now.’
Tia put her head down and absentmindedly pulled at the hem of her dress. ‘I just feel so shit at the moment, Lyds. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing anymore. Maybe the kids would be better off with just Harry, and at least that way they wouldn’t be moved from pillar to post. Harry’s using them as pawns. It’s not fair for them. First they’re at his mum’s and then at his sister’s. It’s not right, and anyway, look at me. I’m hardly going to make mum of the year, am I?’
‘You listen to me, Tia Jacobs, you’re a good mum, and don’t you think or let anyone tell you otherwise. Sometimes we just have to do what we have to do for our kids,’ Lydia said firmly. ‘So put that smile back on your face and hold your chin up, cos you ain’t got nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘Thanks, Lydia … Thanks for everything.’
Giving another tiny nod, Lydia smiled. ‘I’ll send him up, shall I? It’s one of your regulars. Alan. So it should be over in a matter of minutes.’
‘More like seconds.’
Lydia winked. ‘That’s my girl. That’s what I want to see. And remember why you’re doing this. Milly. You’re doing this for her.’
With Lydia gone to get Alan, Tia stood in the middle of the room on her own and took a deep breath, forcing a smile: something she’d had to do through her marriage with Harry, something she’d had to do when she’d been on the game before, something she’d had to do when she’d been in care. The smile she’d learnt to paint on when her heart had been broken into tiny pieces when the only man she’d ever loved had walked out on her.
But then, she supposed Lydia was right, she was doing this for Milly, and for her kids she would do anything. Even this. Even having the likes of Alan maul her. She would just lie there and smile as if it was for them.
After all, the way she figured it, she’d done that for years with Harry – just lying there and letting him do what he liked to her whilst she hated every moment of it. So what was the difference? Harry, Alan, they were all the same. They didn’t care how she felt and at least Alan was paying for it whilst she was paying for it with Harry.
It had only been these last few months she’d been back working for Lydia, though of course she’d thought this life was just a bad memory from the past. But the combination of the legal fees and Milly’s rent a
nd living expenses had given her no choice other than to go back to what she knew.
Milly had tried to get help with housing but there’d been none available. The council lists were full to heaving and besides, when they’d questioned her about her previous accommodation, she’d been too afraid of Harry to mention him, too afraid to tell them about him kicking her out, so instead, she’d told them she’d just left. And as such, they’d decided she’d made herself intentionally homeless, telling her they couldn’t help her anyway.
So, Tia had called Lydia and asked to come back and work for her and of course Lydia had been more than delighted. Tia had been grateful because she certainly couldn’t stand on the corner touting for work, and she certainly couldn’t have a pimp or work in a brothel. She couldn’t work anywhere she might be seen. Because if she ever was seen, Harry would probably kill her right there and then.
Therefore, all things considered, Lydia was the best bet, especially as she did mates rates. She took a nominal fee from Tia, rather than the big cut she could do. And not only that, she made Tia feel safe here and cared for. She guessed Lydia was right; she had to look on the bright side.
So, standing in the bedroom with its flowered pink wallpaper and matching pink sheets, Tia held her smile as Alan came through the door.
She purred. ‘Hi, Alan, how are you? You haven’t been for a while. I thought you might have found someone else … I missed you.’
A small, tubby, ruddy-faced man in his sixties with a shiny bald head, round glasses and a large moustache shuffled towards her. He spoke in a West Country accent. ‘Have you, Bernie?’
Nodding and always grateful that she’d never given her real name to any of her punters, Tia continued to hold that smile, trying to push away how much she hated what she was doing, trying to push away her hatred for Harry, and instead keep thinking on the bright side. To focus on the fact she was earning money to pay for Milly’s rent.
She leant forward and caressed his face. ‘Of course I have, Alan, you must know by now you’re my favourite? You make me feel special, like no other man I’ve ever had.’