Faceless

by Martina Cole

  He was still shaking his head at her front and smiling as they drove out of the yard. Alan drove in. When he saw them in Mikey’s car together he felt as if someone had punched him in the solar plexus. He felt bereft because he thought the world of Marie and realised that his feelings for her were far more serious than he had first thought.

  If she got caught up with Mikey Devlin then she was heading straight back to prison, and he only hoped she saw that before it was too late. He kicked the tyre of his car and hurt his foot. As he jumped around the yard he was swearing his head off.

  The two men watching from the right-hand side of the yard wrote everything down in their notebooks.

  Tiffany had heard that someone was looking for her. She also had a good idea who it was. Her newfound friend had scored for her again and they had cabbed it across London to a squat near Docklands. It was a dive, worse than the place they had left, but by all accounts it was safe.

  She was freebasing once more and the oblivion she craved so much was a long time coming. She was becoming immune now and needed more and more to get the high she was seeking. A dark-eyed girl with red hair and bad skin offered her a needle. Tiffany looked at it for a few seconds before nodding.

  It was an urge she had, a craving to get off her face and out of the present. That seemed imperative to her at this moment. Patrick was bringing her down, worry about him ruining her high.

  The girl injected her in the arm and Tiffany lay against the wall and waited for the first rush to come over her. When she slumped backwards the girl rifled her clothes, took her shoes and jacket and left the squat five hundred pounds richer and better dressed than she had been in weeks.

  Tiffany was still out of it when Maxie found her.

  As he looked down on her skinny body lying in the filth of the squat he felt sadness come over him. She had defecated, wet herself, and white milky vomit hung in strands from her mouth. Heroin always made people sick the first few times. To be a heroin addict took time and effort.

  The two men with him looked at her in distaste.

  ‘I ain’t picking her up, Max.’

  Eddie Loyal was adamant about that. Big and blond, he was dapper and well-dressed.

  Maxie grinned.

  ‘You are because Patrick wants her and whoever delivers her gets a grand for their trouble. Should cover the cleaning bills.’

  Eddie shook his head in disgust.

  ‘Always me, I always get the fucking shit jobs.’

  Maxie was laughing; he could relax now she was found.

  ‘Just pick her up, white boy.’

  In the car on their way to Pat’s office in Spitalfields, Eddie was still moaning as he negotiated the traffic. Maxie lit another joint, and said loudly in the voice of W.C. Fields, ‘I always wanted a white chauffeur!’

  Even Eddie laughed at that and they cracked jokes until they got to the gym.

  Tiffany, in the boot of the Mercedes, could hear the noise but had no idea where the fuck she was. She vomited again and the sour smell made her eyes water.

  The fear had not set in yet. She was still too out of it to realise exactly what was happening to her.

  Marie ended up having an early dinner with Mikey. He was enjoying her company, she was being charming and chatty, and it had occurred to him that this woman had done more time than anyone he knew. In his world the ability to do a long stretch and come out relatively normal was something to be proud of. He admitted to himself if not to her that he could not have handled it.

  ‘You find a place inside yourself and you retreat into it. You have to free your mind and then you don’t feel so confined. It was the smell I found hardest to cope with. The stench of other people: sweat, despair, hatred and anger. It’s a smell you never, ever forget. And it’s a smell you never want to go back to, believe me.’

  He nodded, fascinated. Men didn’t come and open their hearts about their stretch. Men kept quiet about it all or bragged about how they’d done their bird on their head. No trouble.

  But this woman was telling him about things he could only imagine. She was putting into words his greatest fears. He watched her eat, she was graceful and precise in everything she did, and he suddenly felt protective of her.

  ‘What were the screws like?’

  She shrugged.

  ‘I was A-cat, as you know, so I went to maximum security. Like Durham – well, Frankland. The Island. I was kept away from the men, of course.’ Marie smiled. ‘But I was treated pretty much the same as them, I expect. Cookham Wood towards the end. Plenty of women doing lumps there. Most women, though, had killed partners or kids, or were drug dealers. It was the same everywhere you went. That fucking smell felt like it was following you from place to place.’

  He was nodding again, aware that they were getting a lot of strange looks in the pub restaurant from his cronies and friends alike. For him to be seen with a woman over the age of twenty-five was unusual, but actually to be having a conversation with one was unheard of. He found himself enjoying the experience.

  ‘How did you feel when you got the sentence itself ?’

  Marie looked thoughtful before she answered. He was once more aware of what a good-looking woman she was. She could have been stunning, if she had wanted to stereotype herself. He was glad she didn’t, it would have taken away from her natural dignity.

  ‘I had a hard bench, you know. Really tough judge. But I was gutted even though I had resigned myself to it. You can’t go round murdering your mates and expect to get away with it, can you?’

  He laughed.

  ‘I know a few people who have! Me included.’

  She laughed with him.

  ‘The worst of it all is, you come home to nothing. Everything and everyone you knew has changed. The areas, the clothes, even going on a bus is a shock because you have no concept of how much things cost nowadays. It feels so odd, you know. In prison you are static, the same thing day after day, and the newspapers don’t prepare you for what you are coming out to because you haven’t experienced it for yourself. I was used to an environment where physical strength brought survival. Now it’s all about money and getting more of it. Thatcher’s children, I think they call them these days.’

  ‘So you came out to nothing? What about Connor, the black ponce – didn’t he give you a drink?’

  She shook her head then lied for her own ends.

  ‘What, him!’ She laughed. ‘He took me daughter, his son’s sister, and put her on the game and on drugs like he did me. Now I’m biding my time until I can take him out. I’ve been away once and know what I’m letting meself in for, but it would be worth it to see him beg for mercy for what he has done to me and mine.’

  She watched carefully for Mikey’s reaction. He looked angry. Like most men the thought of whoring made him uncomfortable. Men who dealt in women were a one off in many respects. Other men looked down on them for it and they knew it. She was going to cultivate this man if possible and use him.

  He covered her hand with his and Marie suppressed the shudder that ran through her body. If she had to she would sleep with him, she was adept at sleeping with men she didn’t like, had done it for years. She was determined to get her daughter away from Connor, no matter what or who she had to do.

  She might be putting herself up for more trouble from the filth but that was a chance she would have to take. This man could help her do what was necessary to get her daughter away from Patrick so any association with him would be worth it. He was interested in her, in the fact she was a double lifer. She would use that to her advantage.

  ‘At the end of the day, Mikey, I love me kids.’

  ‘Fucking hell, love, I ain’t father of the year but even I love me kids. Especially me son, Mikey Junior. He is me life. I would kill for him.’

  Marie gave him her most winning smile.

  ‘Same here, Mikey. It’s exactly the same for me.’

  She sighed.

  ‘I really have enjoyed meself today. It’s hard for me,
you see, I don’t have anyone to talk to about me time away. No one else who understands, you know? Thanks for listening to me.’

  He was practically preening himself now at her praise.

  ‘Any time, mate. Listen, I’ll give you me mobile number, all right? We should get together more often, don’t you think?’

  He was leering at her and she smiled at him as if he was the most interesting and handsome man she had ever met in her life. It was as if the years had melted away and she was up for a trick once more. She was shocked at how easy it had been to slip back into the role of prostitute again.

  ‘That sounds good to me.’

  He was calculating what she would be like in the snore after so long without it. He was also wondering if she’d had any lesbian encounters she could regale him with. Marie was interesting and fuckable, a winning combination as far as he was concerned. She would do wonders for his credibility, had the creds and the brains to make something of herself in this world. Everyone knew women were far more ruthless than men. Men got mad and women got even, there was a big difference.

  On top of all that, though, he genuinely liked her and that fact amazed him more than anything. He had never liked a woman before in his entire life and that included his overbearing mother, God hurry up and rest her irritating old soul.

  Patrick opened the boot of the car and understood immediately why Tiffany had been placed there. He stepped backwards at the stench.

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’

  The car was behind the gym in relative seclusion. He stared down at her for long moments, his anger reaching volcanic proportions. Maxie and Eddie watched in trepidation as he dragged the girl out by her hair. He was livid. To see a woman in such a filthy state went against everything Patrick believed in.

  ‘You fucking, filthy whore!’

  He was spitting with anger. He dropped Tiffany on to the concrete like a bag of trash and started kicking her. Then he rained blows all over her head and torso, his whole body heaving with exertion. Suddenly, Eddie could watch no longer. He dragged Patrick away from the unconscious girl.

  ‘That’s enough, Pat. Enough! She has had enough! You want to kill her and go away for a piece of shit like her?’

  Maxie watched in morbid fascination and made a mental note to give Eddie his own crew - he was one brave motherfucker. No one else he knew would interfere when Pat was like this, least of all himself.

  Eddie was holding Pat down on the ground. He was frightened himself but could not watch the girl take any more punishment. Hitting women was not an option for him and deep down he had lost a lot of respect for Connor because he’d been so violent towards a defenceless girl.

  ‘Enough, Patrick.’

  He lay there, breathing heavily. Eventually Eddie let go of him. He got up heavily, his every movement exaggerated, and stared at the blond-haired man before him.

  ‘Are you all the fucking ticket, Eddie?’

  Eddie just stared back at him and didn’t answer.

  ‘That is my fucking bitch and my property. You do what I tell you because you are also my property.’

  Eddie wiped one large hand heavy with gold rings across his face.

  ‘I ain’t no one’s property, Pat. I mean that. I work for you because I choose to, but my work does not involve watching a little seven-stone bird get a kicking. Not off you or off anyone.’

  Maxie watched the two men closely. He admired Eddie for his stand but also thought he was a fucking headcase.

  ‘Get him away from me, Maxie,’ Patrick growled. ‘Get him away from me now.’

  Maxie walked a few steps towards Eddie who whirled round to face him.

  ‘Don’t even think about it, Max. I will go but not until he leaves that girl alone. She has had enough, I tell you.’

  His eyes were pleading with Maxie to back him up. Maxie made a decision that would affect the rest of his life.

  ‘He’s right, Pat. Leave go now. Look at the state of her, she’s had enough.’

  Patrick looked from one man to the other and weighed up his chances against them both. Spitting on the prostrate girl, he turned and walked away.

  Maxie shook his head sadly.

  ‘He won’t let that go, Eddie, you realise that, don’t you?’

  He shrugged.

  ‘I ain’t in the business of beating up women or kids, Maxie, and I don’t think you are either. Now help me get her into the car again, she needs a hospital and soon.’

  They placed her gently in the boot this time. She was bleeding profusely and both men were aware of the dangers of HIV. After all was said and done she was a brass and they were the worst carriers of every disease because they were notorious for not doing anything to help themselves. The two men drove Tiffany to the hospital in silence.

  Oswald arrived there three hours later after a call from the ward sister. When he saw the condition Tiffany was in he was shocked and sickened. She was not only badly beaten but also showing all the signs of drug addiction. A social worker informed him that she was signing an order for the girl to be sectioned into a mental hospital until they could decide what to do with her. She explained the situation with Anastasia and how Tiffany was being prosecuted for child neglect and endangerment.

  Oswald listened with wide eyes and a heavy heart, said he would do all he could to help his son’s sister and that he was willing to do whatever was necessary to get her back on track. The fact that she had given them his number spoke volumes as far as he was concerned.

  When the woman had left he sat holding Tiffany’s hand until she opened her eyes again.

  ‘I knew you would come,’ she said painfully. She was having trouble talking because of the bruising around her face. ‘He’ll kill me for this.’

  ‘Who? Who will kill you?’

  Oswald’s voice was deep and rich and she closed her eyes against the kindness in it.

  ‘Anastasia’s father . . . Patrick Connor.’

  ‘Excuse me? Did you say Patrick Connor?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I am so bad, Ossie, so very bad. Like me mother was.’

  She was crying silently and his heart went out to her, she looked so small and defenceless.

  ‘She came to warn me about him and I didn’t listen to her.’

  Oswald was finding this a night of revelations.

  ‘Your mother came to see you?’

  Tiffany nodded.

  ‘I sent her away – sent her away and let her think I hated her. And she was trying to help me! All those years I missed her so much, Ossie.’

  She squeezed his hand gently.

  ‘How did this happen to me? I only wanted to be loved. Just once in my life I wanted to be important to someone. Know there was someone somewhere in the world who was thinking about me, who cared about me. How did I get it so wrong?’

  He smiled.

  ‘Maybe you just wanted it too much, baby.’

  She squeezed his hand again and he squeezed back.

  ‘It will be OK, sweetie, I promise you.’

  As she drifted off to sleep he wondered how he was going to explain to Jason just how low his sister had sunk, and how he could make it better for them both. He decided it was time to talk to the mother and see what she had to say. If she had tried to warn Tiffany off Connor then she obviously cared what happened to her daughter. She’d been trying to help.

  But his main problem was Verbena. She would not want Marie Carter near her son, he knew. No way. She was obsessed with the boy and at times he wondered if her attitude was healthy, consoling himself with the thought that at least he could temper her overpowering love with common sense and reality. He was a worried man but he stayed in the hospital all night. It was the least he could do for the battered girl lying so still in her narrow bed. He watched Tiffany as she slept, her face troubled and eyes flickering with images he could only imagine.

  She was still a child in many respects, just a child. Yet she had already lived a thousand lifetimes and all because she h
ad had a mother who was weak enough to succumb to drugs. Maybe it was genetic, who knew? Like mother, like daughter?

  His real fear was the old adage, Like father, like son. Because where the hell did that leave his boy? His pride and joy, the thing that kept him working day and night and gave him the love he so desperately craved.

  It was a long night for Oswald. As the sun came up he decided he had to see Marie Carter.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Marie and Alan were uneasy together for the first time and both felt it acutely. Since she had arrived for work the atmosphere had been heavy. She was wearing make-up, only a small amount but it proved to Alan that she was embarking on an affair with Mikey Devlin and consequently changing herself, making herself even more attractive.

  It hurt him and made him feel angry. She was a good woman, and even if she didn’t want him he didn’t want her to take up with a piece of shit like Devlin. He would use and abuse her and Alan had thought she was better than that these days. Also she was on licence, would be for the rest of her life. What would happen if her association with Devlin was noticed by the police? If he dragged her into some of his nefarious dealings?

  Marie had had the worst in life and now she was being given another chance. All of a sudden it seemed as if she couldn’t wait to destroy herself once more. People could damage themselves in so many ways, drink, drugs, but also with the partners they chose. If she decided on Devlin she was a mug, no, worse than a mug. She was proving to him that blood will out – she was still the woman she had been all those years ago when she had killed her two friends.

  That thought made him feel bad all over again. He was judging her and finding her lacking, and he had no right. She worked for him, that was all, her private life was her own. He had not done such a good job with his, he admitted to himself. He was involved with Devlin as well. And unlike her he knew how hard it was to get away from the man if he wanted you, for whatever reason. Devlin would enjoy having Marie on his arm, she was like a big present to him, and he would love her notoriety. Telling people who she was and what she had done would appeal to him. The big I am.

  Alan was growing more and more annoyed.