No one replied. They weren't allowed to.
"I'm going to make that fucker pay. How did a fucking estate rat get the chance to work near my kid?"
No one answered him.
"Anyway, he's committed a crime in this city, so that makes him ours. I'm going to use New Reality to find out what he holds dear and I'm going to take it from him. I'm going to fucking destroy the arsehole."
Why hadn't Frankie thought it through? How did he expect anything positive to come from kidnapping Doug Rixon's child? He was supposed to be smart.
"He's a fucking estate rat! I'm going to find who let him out of there in the first place and destroy them. There's no way he should have been anywhere near my child!"
Stars swam in Marie's vision and her head spun. Despite doing everything she could to fight it, she was crying again. All she'd done was cry since she'd become pregnant.
When Doug turned his back, she looked across at Gina, who mouthed, 'Are you okay?'
A curt nod and Marie took a deep breath as she straightened in her seat. By the time Doug had turned back around, she'd mostly pulled herself together—but not enough. Doug sneered at her. "What's fucking wrong with you?"
The scrutiny of every person in the room turned on Marie and her cheeks burned.
"Come on, spit it out. You look upset about something. What the fuck is it?"
After a strong wet sniff, Marie rubbed her eyes. "Head cold; I don't feel great."
Doug produced a soiled hanky and threw it at her. "Use this, and don't bother giving it back to me."
The rag used to be white, but it was now stained yellow. What was she supposed to do with it? Three-day-old road kill would have been a more appealing prospect to blow her nose on.
"Fucking hell, love, I don't have AIDS or anything. I'm not a faggot."
The smell of body odour and a bad diet rose up to Marie's nose with the hanky. She both blew and heaved at the same time. When she pulled it away, her eyes were watering more than ever.
After watching her for a moment, his tired piggy eyes narrowing to puckered slits, Doug looked around the room again. "The court case is tomorrow, so I won't be here. I'm going to make sure we get the fucker the longest sentence possible. I'm going to take someone with me."
Marie stared at the floor.
"It would be good for one of you to see how we get the prisoners sent over to us."
The silence in the room pressed down on the back of Marie's head. Cold with dread, she looked up to find Doug staring straight at her.
"Meet me outside the prison at eight a.m. sharp, okay? Oh, and wear something less…" he waved his hand in the air at her, "baggy."
Without responding, Marie looked down again and waited for Doug to leave the room. How would she get out of this?
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The huge clock above the door to Marie's work showed she was on time—eight in the morning. Despite the early hour, sweat was already rolling down her back and the humid air was pushing against her skin. A taste of dust rode the almost non-existent breeze.
Another restless night had left her weak, and she wobbled where she stood. The same burn that nestled in her eyes remained, and Marie shielded them against the sun as she looked around. A horn honked and Marie turned to see an approaching taxi. Doug hung out of the back window with a sneer on his greasy face. What she would give to punch that fat nose of his. Smug bastard.
When the back door popped open, every muscle in Marie's body turned to lead. This was it. Today was the day she'd see her lover sentenced in court.
Before she'd sat down, Doug tutted. "What the fuck are you wearing?"
Although Marie looked at herself and frowned, she didn't respond.
"I thought I said wear something tighter. You look like a tramp in that baggy shirt. What's fucking wrong with you?"
Marie left the silence hanging and turned away from him to look out of the window. All the bigoted arsehole wanted was eye candy for his court appearance. Did he think he was some kind of playboy or something? She was only there because she had to be. The time would come when she could tell the fat prick exactly what she thought of him.
"And you look like you've put weight on. Seriously, Marie, what’s been going on with you lately? You're really letting yourself go."
She kept her head turned from him to watch the prison become smaller as they drove away. Her time would come when she had Doug where she wanted him, and when she did…
***
After about five minutes, Doug slid across the back seat so he was closer to her.
Every muscle in Marie's body locked tight as her space was filled with his fetid musk. A cringe curled through her back at the sound of his heavy breath. He then grabbed her chin in a clammy grip and pulled her face around.
"I'm sorry, darling; it's a stressful day for me today."
When he dropped his fat hand on her thigh, his sausage fingers wrapping around the inside of it, only inches below her vagina, her entire leg broke out in gooseflesh—clearly not stressful enough to quell his libido.
"I felt like I was going to lose my son. Like my entire world was about to come crashing down, and I suppose I've not recovered from that." He then squeezed his grip and Marie's breathing quickened. With Frankie leaving her on her own, it was down to her now. Finding out Doug's secrets was her only way out of this mess. Ride it out, Marie, it'll pay off in the long run.
After she'd looked down, it was impossible to un-see the bulge in Doug's trousers. This was an opportunity. It was important she didn't forget that. As gross as it was, having the fat man next to her and in this state of arousal gave her the edge. "I was worried the other day, Dougie."
"Oh?" The intoxication of lust clouded his intense stare.
"I thought I'd said something out of turn. I've not seen or heard from you since we went out for dinner."
Doug shifted his grip an inch higher up her leg. "It was nothing you said, darling. I've just had a lot of work crap to deal with lately."
"Well, if you ever need a compassionate ear…"
When Doug's hand moved farther up, his fat little finger almost touching the gusset of her panties, Marie fanned her face and undid the window. She then turned towards the breeze sharply enough to send his hand a few inches away from her crotch. "Whew, it's hot in here isn't it?"
Instead of replying, Doug stared into the distance. "To think what could have happened to Reuben. It's every parent's worst nightmare." His face twisted, genuine hate gripping his features. "And to think they let an estate rat near my kid."
There was nothing she could say to that, so Marie listened as Doug let it all out.
***
Before the taxi had completely stopped, Marie had already opened the door and hung one leg out. Again, it threw Doug's pawing hands off her thighs. Five more minutes in the car with him, and he would have been trying to ram his pudgy fingers inside her.
While Doug paid, Marie walked up a couple of the steps at the front of the courthouse. Like many buildings in the city, it stood as a gargantuan phallus. Man's homage to perfection… or so they thought, anyway.
The entire building was mirrored, the bright sun making it sparkle where it stood. Where was Frankie right now? Was he in there already or in some riot van or cage waiting to be wheeled in when the time was right? Was he waiting to be dragged out like an animal receiving judgment? As a former estate rat, he didn't have a chance. Today was a formality, at best.
The stairs beneath her feet were made from white marble and there was a fountain halfway up. It split the path and sent the pedestrians around either side of it. Bursts of water shot out of the ground and then landed in holes several metres away. The streams never collided, although they looked like they should, and they always landed where they were supposed to. Such mastery from water was hypnotising.
It was only when Doug brushed past her that Marie snapped from her admiration. She broke into something between a walk and a jog as she chased after him to keep u
p with his long strides.
***
Once they were inside and the shiny metal doors had closed behind them, Marie stood slack-jawed and looked around. It couldn't have been any more different than the outside. It was like they'd stepped through a gate to another dimension and had found themselves transported back in time.
The foyer was vast and as tall as the building itself; to look up, made Marie dizzy. The noise from the people on the ground rose up into the cavernous space above them and swirled at the top, buzzing like a swarm of angry bees.
The centrepiece in the middle of the room was a pair of stone scales. They stood at least three stories high and loomed large, casting a wide shadow. When Marie was younger, she'd visited the natural history museum; the life-sized model of a blue whale she saw there was the only thing that came close to the size of the scales. Her needs were small and insignificant. Nothing stood in the way of true justice.
The walls were panelled with dark wood and the entire place smelled of polish. This was a place where only a certain type of person was comfortable—the type of person who had been educated in schools that looked like this. Who had debated politics and economics in the canteen and had supper with Mummy, Daddy, and great uncle Bertie once a month. A person who had spent weekends in manor houses and had attended clay pigeon shoots in the country. People like Doug were raised in places like this; people like Frankie were destroyed in them.
When Doug waved at another man in a suit and set off, Marie followed closely behind. Her focus remained on the fat man's heels as they clicked against the stone floor. One hard swipe of her foot would send the arsehole sprawling. Just to watch his pudgy nose smash against the white tiles on the ground… that time would come. The fat man would fall from grace and she'd be the one masterminding it. Patience would win out.
Marie kept up with Doug's pace as he fell into stride with the other man. She continued looking around. On every wall was a motto or slogan about justice and it prevailing. Frankie didn't have a chance in hell.
***
It was only when they got to their courtroom that Doug's lawyer acknowledged Marie. There was a bench next to a set of large, wooden doors, which he pointed at. "We need to wait here until they call us through. It may be a bit of a wait, so you might want to make yourself comfortable."
Since stepping into the courthouse, everything from her jaw to her ankles had tightened. With her stomach doing backflips, Marie shook her head. "I'll stand thanks."
Doug looked around as if checking to see who was watching and pointed at the seat next to him. "Sit the fuck down! Now!"
Marie didn't move. She wasn't his bitch.
When Doug stood up, his lawyer pushed him down by his shoulder. "Let the woman stand. Jesus, Dougie, what does it matter?"
Although Doug didn't say anything else, the reddening of his fat face showed that her obedience mattered. It mattered a lot.
After staring at him for a second longer, Marie sat down on the bench. Doug needed to get his way today; God knows he would in the courtroom. Marie's time would come, but it most certainly wasn't now.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The huge wooden doors to the courtroom were pulled open, giving the butterflies in Marie's stomach razor sharp wings. Before Doug and his lawyer had even stirred, she was on her feet. They both stared at her, so she stood aside, giving them enough space to enter the room before her. Whatever happened, she couldn't lose her shit. Not now. Not here.
The footsteps of Doug and his lawyer played a military beat, their heels clicking in unison as they entered the silent courtroom side by side. It was as grand as the hallway and the size of an indoor arena. There were seats for what could have been thousands of spectators; fortunately for Frankie, there were very far from thousands there today. The first section they'd entered was completely empty and only a third of the seats closer to the front were taken. No one gave a fuck about a street rat, even with that level of media attention.
The judge was sitting so high up, a sharp, stabbing pain ran across the back of Marie's neck when she looked at him. Who did he think he was, some kind of deity or something? It was ridiculous. The entire place was designed to intimidate.
They passed through a section of seats that were separated off. A walkway cut a path between them and the rest of the courtroom. They were grimier and more neglected than the others. Then Marie saw the signs. It was pretty hard to miss them once close enough.
NO ESTATE RATS BEYOND THIS POINT — UNLESS LISTED ON THE DOCKET.
Marie followed Doug and his lawyer to the front. She stared straight ahead. If every pair of eyes was on her, like it felt they were, she didn't need to know.
With her eyes locked on Doug's wide back, she stared at the two huge patches of sweat that hung from him like relaxed wings. A Rorschach test made from saline secretion. How was he even sweating in there? The bare stone floor acted as a natural air conditioner. It was the coolest place she'd been in all summer.
Once they were close to the front, Marie looked up again, and a cold rush dropped through her. Frankie was sitting in a cage staring out through vacant eyes. Fortunately, those vacant eyes weren't turned her way. She would have cracked up for sure. Marie sat down next to Doug.
It was hard not to look at Frankie, so Marie let her fringe fall over her face and watched him. For the briefest second they made eye contact and she was gripped by a nauseous surge.
When he looked away, it drove a sharp pain through her heart. But what else could he do? Ask her how her day's been? Funny seeing you here, love. A hard swallow kept the tears at bay and she lifted her chin. This was how it had to be.
The sound of the judge's gavel snapped through the room. This was it! Marie sat to attention and watched the robed man, her panic threatening to run away with her. Why had she even turned up that morning? What was today going to achieve?
The judge looked over the courtroom like a toad surveying his pond. When he turned to Frankie, he stared at him like he wanted to erase him from existence. "The evidence is already there, so we know the verdict is going to be guilty. Not that you deserve it, but I'm obliged to ask you if there's anything you'd like to say?"
It was all the invitation Frankie needed. When he stood up, the courthouse fell silent. "Actually, there is."
Was he going to make things worse? Why didn't he just shut up? When the judge rolled his eyes and sighed, Marie had to fight the urge to tell Frankie to sit down.
"Fine," the judge said. "Get it over with then."
The cavernous room amplified Frankie's words. "The system we live by is fucked."
Crack! Crack! Crack!
From behind a stubby, accusatory finger, the judge said, "Language!"
"Well it is. I mean, what kind of a place makes the poorest pay the most money to the state?"
When Doug stood up, his seat scooted out behind him and crashed over. The loud bang silenced everyone and gave Doug the floor. "The poorest are the biggest users of the state. I'd rather welfare didn't exist, but we have some bullshit human rights laws that we have to adhere to so we can keep trading with our neighbouring states. That's the only reason you're not hanging right now, you fuckwit."
When the cracking gavel didn't come, Marie stared at the judge. Who was she kidding? Doug could say whatever he wanted; he was one of them.
When there was no response to Doug's statement, the fat man turned around, picked his chair up and sat back down again.
The judge raised his eyebrows. "Is that all, Dougie?"
Dougie? Welcome to the old boys club. The fickle bastards would have a laugh on the golf course about this one.
Doug nodded.
Once the judge motioned for him to continue, Frankie threw his shoulders up in a shrug. "The way the system is set up means that someone like me can't afford to survive within it. I work hard and spend all my time educating your fat fucking kids."
Crack! Crack! Crack!
"Order!"
What was Frankie trying to
achieve? He was preaching to the perpetually unconvertible, so all he was doing was riling them up.
"And what do I get at the end of it all? A zero hours contract that gives my employer the power to cancel my work without notice."
Pointing first at Doug, Frankie then pointed at the judge. "The system that you've set up created my crime. If I could earn a respectable living from my work, I wouldn't have needed to do what I did."
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The judge's considerable shadow smothered Frankie when he stood up and leaned over him. "I've heard enough of your rubbish. You have to take responsibility for your actions, son. You're not a bloody child. I don't want to hear you speak any more. Before I deliver your sentence, does anyone else have anything they'd like to add?"
As the judge looked first at Doug and then the courtroom in general, Marie held back the urge to scream. What good would it do? Not that she'd be able to get it out anyway. Paralysed by fear, tears in her eyes, and her tongue feeling like it was too thick for her mouth, she looked around the room and was crushed by the palpable silence.
But just as the judge opened his mouth to speak, a female's voice cut in.
"I have something to say."
It took a few seconds for the judge to find the speaker as he squinted and searched the crowd. "Very well, stand up and introduce yourself."
When the woman stood up, Marie's jaw dropped. Shit!
"My name's Kitty Trollope."
"Okay, Miss Trollope, what would you like to say?"
"I know Frankie, which is why I'm here. I was his first girlfriend when he left the estate, and I used to think he was a good man. However, after seeing the footage of what happened the other day, I have to say I'm appalled. I'm appalled at him, but most of all I'm appalled at myself for thinking an estate rat could be anything but that."
After staring at her for a second as if he expected more, the judge looked at Doug before returning his attention to Kitty. "Is that all?" Having just used Frankie's trial as a way to clear her own reputation, Kitty nodded and sat down again.
New Reality 2: Justice Page 19