by Martina Cole
As they lay together smoking a joint they heard the bedsprings in the next room creaking. They started to laugh.
‘She don’t half get some poke next door,’ Stephanie said.
‘In more ways than one!’
Stephanie was rolling up now, because she was so stoned and because, when Freddie was like this, he made her happy. He was being his most charming, and his most sexy. She loved the darkness of his skin, the whiteness of his teeth. He was always chewing gum or mints, so his breath was always fresh. She appreciated little things like that, in her job some of the clients’ bodily hygiene left a lot to be desired.
Freddie cuddled her to him and she felt safe, safe and happy.
Then he flipped her expertly on to her tummy and, lying on top of her back, he bit her on the back of her head. As she struggled he pushed her face harder and harder into the pillow. As he entered her from behind she was grunting like an animal, and the pain in her head and thighs brought flashing lights into the blackness of the pillow. She could feel her chicken takeaway from earlier in the evening rushing into her mouth, and clogging up her nose as she tried desperately to get it out of her mouth so she could breathe.
She was choking, and the overpowering feeling of helplessness was terrifying in the extreme. She could hear him calling her names, and telling her that she was nothing, a whore, a slut. The words were merging together into one and as she lost consciousness she felt the burning of the food in her nostrils, her mouth open in a silent scream.
Little Freddie heard the front door crash open and still didn’t take his eyes off the film he was watching. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre was his favourite video at the moment, and the blood and gore were just starting to spurt everywhere. He saw his Uncle Jimmy flash by in his peripheral vision, and stayed watching the TV.
Freddie was asleep in bed with his third woman of the night - first Pat, then Stephanie and finally his wife. Hearing the noise he opened his eyes blearily. Jackie was still snoring beside him and the duvet had come off the bed, showing her fat body sprawled across him like a beached whale. Her breath was rank and he pushed himself away from her. Then he realised that someone was stomping up his stairs and heard Jimmy’s voice swearing and shouting, and it occurred to him that something terrible had happened.
Freddie had smoked some cocaine earlier and, mixed with the brandy, it had badly affected his reaction times. It wasn’t until he was dragged bodily from the bed by Jimmy that he started to wake up properly.
‘What the fuck’s going on!’ Jackie was sitting up in the bed, clutching a pillow in front of her to hide her nakedness and watching in amazement as Jimmy started to attack Freddie.
‘You fucking vicious cunt! You wanker!’
Never had Jackie seen Jimmy sound so angry nor heard him shout so loudly. What frightened her more was that Freddie was not attempting to fight back in any way. He was just lying on the floor taking it.
Jimmy was kicking him, and when he was finally spent, he looked down on Freddie. Shaking his head in obvious despair, he rubbed his eyes and face, and Jackie saw the tiredness that had come over him.
‘You went too fucking far this time. She’s dead, Freddie. Dead.’
Jackie heard the word dead, and her whole body went cold. The fear had hit her now. This was serious, really serious and she was terrified that she was going to lose her husband over it.
‘Who’s dead? What the fuck is going on here, guys?’ The fear in her voice communicated itself to her husband, who seemed suddenly to come out of his stupor.
Freddie got up off the dirty floor, and as Jimmy looked around him at the squalor that was Freddie’s life and the mess that was his closest relative, he felt himself fighting back the urge to cry. ‘Look at the way you live, the way you exist here with this lot. You’re like a pack of fucking animals in a lair. This ain’t a life, Freddie, you live like fucking parasites, the lot of you.’
The words penetrated Jackie’s consciousness and even in her drink-fuddled brain the insult took residence, and a feeling of hot shame swept over her.
‘This could destroy us, all we’ve worked for, everything, and all because you can’t fucking control yourself.’
Freddie saw his wife trying to comprehend what had happened. She was staring at them both in horror, then Jackie was kneeling up on the bed and screaming, ‘Who is fucking dead, for Christ’s sake tell me, will you.’
And a little voice said, from the doorway, ‘All the people on the telly, Mum, they’re all dead.’
Chapter Twelve
Now Maggie knew exactly what had happened, the fear inside her was growing by the minute. She had gone to the house on Jimmy’s direction and taken the girl’s belongings and she had then dumped them on a landfill in East Essex. But just the thought of what had happened to that girl made her feel ill.
She understood better than anyone what Freddie was capable of, she just didn’t believe that he could really have killed that poor girl in such a mindless, savage way. She had fought him off enough times as a girl, but even she would never have believed this of him.
She still had flashbacks to the times he had tried to corner her in her own home, and she had felt the unease as he stared at her sometimes, with that vacant look she knew meant he was thinking about her in a sexual way. If Jimmy knew the half of it he would have a seizure, and it would cause so much trouble that the reverberations would be felt for generations. Her own father would not take it very well, either, and that was without her mother’s attitude. And Jackie, well, if she knew, she would blame her, like she always blamed everyone else except her husband.
Now this had happened, and Maggie had seen the pain and confusion in her sister’s eyes this night, she knew that this was going to be in the forefront of her mind for a long time.
If it got out in their own community it would be hard enough for them, but if the filth took him in over it then everything they had worked for would be in vain. It would destroy everyone Freddie had come into contact with, it would taint them all.
Ozzy must never find out about any of it, and she knew from Jimmy’s worried expression that this was going to be the make-or-break time.
As Maggie drove back to her house she had the windows open because she felt physically sick, and her head was clammy. She could not believe what she had just done and she wished that Jimmy had kept her out of it. It showed how worried he must be to involve her in this.
She remembered that she was supposed to be doing his mother’s hair this morning and sighed. As she pulled up at the traffic lights two young men stared at the beautiful woman in the Mercedes sports car and tried to catch her attention. Even though this happened on a daily basis, she was suddenly convinced that they were following her. She wheelspinned away, and left them in her wake and wondering what the hell was wrong with the blonde in the brand-new Merc.
Jackie was drinking white wine mixed with vodka. It was eleven o’clock in the morning and so it was early even for her. Little Freddie understood that something momentous had happened and was for once in his life being quiet, and it was this that made everything seem even more surreal.
The alcohol was her painkiller, it was her crutch against the world and it was also the reason she got out of bed these days. She knew Freddie didn’t want her, not really. The only thing keeping him near her was their son, and now the girls were growing he was suddenly taking an interest in them again. They had trundled along OK until this last event, but now she was frightened, seriously frightened of what this could all become, what it could all cause.
Freddie had killed a brass.
The words kept going round in her head and even though she knew it was true she was still having trouble coming to terms with it. Her hands were shaking and she wasn’t sure if it was her usual morning unsteadiness or because she was in shock.
Jimmy had accused him of rape, said it had to be rape because no one would willingly be treated like that. But she was a brass, so she was used to being treated like shit. It
was how brasses earned their money, wasn’t it? They did what the wives refused to do for their men, at least that is what Freddie had always told her.
They had disposed of her belongings, according to Jimmy, but he had also said they had called an ambulance and pretended that she had been topped by a customer. In her heart she knew this was a load of crap, that this story was for her benefit, concocted by Jimmy when he had calmed down and seen how the news had affected her. He had been brought back to earth by her crying and screaming. But how could she believe this of the man she had loved for so long, who was the only reason she was even sitting at this table, who was everything to her no matter what.
She wasn’t that stupid, she could work the truth out for herself, and it was the knowledge that he had done exactly what he had been accused of that frightened her so much.
They had dumped the body, they would have had to.
She wondered how they had shut up the other girls in the house. It must have cost them fortunes. Well, she didn’t care how much as long as Freddie was going to walk away from it.
If this Stephanie, or whatever her real name was, had been topped by a punter, she still would have been disposed of. The last thing they needed was anyone scrutinising their working practices.
She gulped at her drink, and as she glanced once more at the clock she wondered if the girls would be back today. She had a feeling that they would be left at Maggie’s or her mum’s until Easter was over and this could all be sorted out.
She burped, and tasted the tannic cheapness of the wine, then she topped up the glass and drank once more. She needed oblivion and she knew that today of all days it was not to be hers. This was far too serious to anaesthetise with wine or vodka. This needed brandy or even whisky.
As usual, all she could think about was her and her needs. The dead girl was not really anything in her mind, she was just a brass, and who cared about brasses? She hated the woman who had caused all this, and she was sure it had just been an accident. Freddie wouldn’t hurt a woman for no reason. A man, yeah, but not a female, not a woman, it was not feasible. He was a womaniser, she knew that much, and womanisers liked women. A man who’d harm them didn’t like women. It stood to reason, didn’t it, really?
She closed her eyes on her thoughts. She didn’t really know what to believe; she only knew what she wanted to believe, what she needed to believe. And that was that her husband could not be the monster that everyone seemed to assume he was. She knew him, had given him four children. If anyone knew about her husband then it was her.
She knew that people thought she was a mug, but that was OK as far as she was concerned. No one knew him like she did. No one saw the kindness that was inside him when he dealt with his kids, or the way he tried to be a good person. The drugs and the drink got to him like they did her. It was an illness.
She clung on to this new thought as if it was a lifeline, which for her of course it was.
She heard the front door open and she turned in fear towards it.
Freddie knew he had fucked up big time. He also knew he had got to get back into everyone’s good books and he had to get back into them sooner rather than later. He could suffocate that silly bitch all over again, she was nothing but trouble. Was he going to have to pay for this for the rest of his natural? So he had accidentally topped a brass, a fucking brass, a woman who, for a C-note, would shag a fucking doorpost. He knew Steph, she would shag a Rottweiler for a score and a large lump of dope.
Why hadn’t he just gone home? He had asked himself the same question over and over again.
Now he was being made to feel like he was a criminal or something. Anyone would think he had hurt a civilian the way they were all carrying on, and if Pat found out, well, that would be the icing on the cake. Patricia would walk away from him and all that he stood for without a second’s thought. As hard as she was, she liked the girls and in her own way she took care of them.
He had been out of his nut, it could have happened to anyone. It wasn’t like it was planned or something, it was an accident.
If only he had not smoked the cocaine. Why couldn’t he ever leave well alone? Why did he have to always be out of it? The brandy had already softened the edges, so why he had carried on drinking and coking, he didn’t know. But Steph was as up for it as he was, only no one was interested in that fact.
She had wanted him there, she was always happy to see him, so why should he be given the bum’s rush over a fucking brass? Well, this just all seemed outrageous and over the top as far as he was concerned.
He had enjoyed it, that was the real truth.
But he would swallow, he had no choice really, and when the time was right he would make sure that they all understood once and for all who really was the daddy.
Paul and Liselle watched Freddie as he downed drink after drink. The gossip had reached them, and they were doing what everyone else was doing. Waiting to see what happened before they decided on any action they might take.
The pub was empty except for Freddie, and they were glad about that. But when little Maggie walked in they both knew that trouble was going to come at any second. It was in her eyes, in her walk, in her very demeanour.
‘You fucking nutter, you make me sick!’ Her voice was low and husky, and Liselle pushed her husband towards their living quarters. She would deal with this. She knew that, no matter what, Freddie would not touch a hair on this girl’s head. Not today anyway.
Liselle placed a large Scotch and Coke on the bar in front of Maggie, but she wasn’t interested.
‘My Jimmy has to sort out your shit all the time, but you have gone too far with this. My sister might fucking think you are the dog’s knob but I know you for what you are, and my Jimmy does as well now.’
‘Fuck off, Maggie.’ He sounded bored, but there was an underlying fear in his voice and both Maggie and Liselle picked it up.
‘Go home and have a few kids, might shut your fucking big trap up once and for all.’
‘My Jimmy is a decent man, and he is bailing you out as usual. You are a joke, mate, but I warn you now, Freddie. One more fucking stunt like this and he will walk away, and if my sister has any sense she will do the same. You have no respect any more, you have no real rep, you are a bully boy, a fucking ice cream and you have finally gone too far.’
He looked at her, imagining how it would feel to punch her lights out and fuck her until she screamed. But he just smiled and said to Liselle, ‘Hark at her, eh? The cunts are in control, the split arses are on the rampage.’ He moved towards her quickly and she jumped in fright, which just made him laugh louder.
‘Go home, Maggie, before I forget you are a relative.’
‘I am no relative of yours, mate. You are fucking scum, and it’s only Ozzy’s wrath that is keeping you out of the courts. You do realise that, don’t you?’
‘Piss off, go and cut someone’s hair, it’s all you are fit for. Go and suck Jimmy’s cock, put a smile on his face for once, eh?’
He was laughing once more, and she wondered at a man who could kill someone and not care about it.
‘If you ain’t careful, Mags, your husband will be bedding the brasses again. He has had his fair share, I can tell you.’
She knew he was lying to her and she spat at him then, and the globule of phlegm hung off his chin.
‘Go home yourself, cunt, Jackie’s looking for you as always and you never know, you might need an alibi.’
He smiled at her once more but she knew she had scored a major point. He was a real enemy now and she didn’t care. That girl was dead, and because of her husband this man was going to walk away from it all. This grieved her.
She left the pub with her head held high and her heart nearly broken.
Freddie wiped his face with his hand and licked off the spittle with relish, much to the disgust of Liselle.
The point had been made and Liselle admired young Maggie for that much at least, even though she knew Freddie would never forgive her.
Freddie did not know that Patricia had been alerted by one of the other girls, and the fact that he thought he might just walk away from it really annoyed her. She was the main boss, her brother’s hologram for when he wasn’t there, and he had not been there for a long time thanks to his natural aggression and the judicial system.
‘We can’t have this ever get out. I have threatened all the girls with death, pain, torture and destruction if they ever open their mouths, whether it is to each other or to their pimps.’
‘Pimps?’
Pat wanted to laugh, even Jimmy was a fool where brasses were concerned. Brasses loved their pimps, because every man in their orbit used them for money. At least with the pimp they had a level of respect - all the time they were earning they were treated with decency. That was why Jimmy would never be a good brothel boy. He didn’t have the innate cunning needed by pimps to keep the girls in line, or in love, however they looked at it, or the complete disregard for other people that was the main requisite of a man who lived off women. She knew he hated the fact they had the houses, saw himself as above all that. But it was a decent money-spinner and the sooner he accepted that the better off he would be.
‘I think he has learned his lesson, Pat, I think he is as frightened as we are about what happened.’
His loyalty knew no bounds. If only Jimmy could hear the way Freddie cunted him when he had had a drink. The way he laughed about his perfect life with his perfect wife. The jealousy was there, and even though she knew in another way Freddie loved and admired his younger counterpart, at times she understood how hard it was for him to see the boy who had looked up to him actually making more of his life than he ever would.