Broke

by Mandasue Heller

  ‘For the last time, there is no other man,’ said Amy, irritated that her mum was talking to her as if she didn’t care about her children. They were precisely the reason she was in this position, because they were her life and she would rather sacrifice herself than see any harm come to them.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ Sonia said coolly. ‘But I know you don’t care what I think, so I’ll say no more about it. I just want you to promise that you won’t move this man in – whoever he is. And sort this place out, because it’s a health hazard,’ she added, casting another look of disgust at the bin bags. ‘I know you’re upset, but that’s no excuse to neglect your children.’

  ‘I am not neglecting them,’ Amy protested. ‘They’re clean and fed.’

  ‘Clean?’ Sonia raised an eyebrow. ‘Bobby soiled himself twice yesterday, and once again this morning. It’s a good job you left some of his pants the last time you stayed over, or he’d have a bare bottom right now.’

  Amy guiltily dipped her gaze. ‘I meant to bring his nappies, but I forgot.’

  ‘Don’t you think you’re missing the point?’ Sonia asked. ‘He knows how to use the toilet, but the fact that he’s started doing it in his pants again says a lot about what’s going on in here, and here . . .’ She pointed from her temple to her heart. ‘He’s obviously disturbed, but how can you help him if you can’t even look after yourself?’

  ‘Why are you blaming me?’ Amy snapped. ‘This is Mark’s fault, not mine. He’s the one who’s pissed off with someone else. I’m doing my best, but it’s not easy trying to do everything by myself.’

  ‘I’m not saying it’s your fault. But you’re the one who’s got to look after the children, because you’re their mum.’

  ‘And you’re mine, so you’re supposed to be looking after me, not having a go because I haven’t washed the stupid dishes.’

  ‘You’re a grown woman,’ Sonia said calmly. ‘And you’ve made it quite clear that you don’t appreciate me sticking my nose in, so I’m staying out of it. But I refuse to keep my mouth shut when it comes to my grandchildren. They’re the priority here, not you, so pull yourself together and sort it out.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Amy said bitterly. ‘Nice to know I’ve got your support.’

  ‘The Lord helps those who help themselves,’ Sonia retorted piously.

  ‘Don’t preach at me,’ Amy yelled, too upset and angry by now to care who heard. ‘You haven’t got a clue what I’m going through! I need help, not criticism, but you’re too busy looking down your nose at me to see that, aren’t you? And how can you accuse me of neglecting my kids when you know how much I love them?’

  ‘If you loved them as much as you claim to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,’ Sonia argued. ‘Luckily for them I do, so at least they’re going to school clean and fed today. But I’ll be buggered if I’m taking them off your hands so you can flit around like a free woman.’

  ‘Oh, just get out.’ Amy yanked the door open.

  ‘We’ll drop the children off, seeing as we’re already here,’ Sonia told her. ‘It’ll give you a chance to make a start on the house. And then I’d have a bath, if I was you, because you don’t smell very nice.’

  She walked out now and strode up the hall with her nose in the air, calling, ‘John . . . kids . . . I’m ready.’

  Amy managed to muster up a smile when the children trooped miserably out of the living room. ‘See you later,’ she said, giving them a quick hug before her mum herded them out.

  Her dad looked weary as he shuffled his feet in the doorway. ‘Sorry about your mum. I wanted to ring you and warn you she was on the warpath, but she didn’t give me a chance. Are you all right?’

  ‘I’ll manage,’ Amy assured him, folding her arms. ‘You’d best hurry or you’ll get it in the neck an’ all.’

  ‘You know where we are if you need us.’ Her dad gave her a peck on the cheek and then stepped out with his head down.

  Amy slammed the door behind him and slid to the floor in despair. She was alone, totally and utterly alone. And now that her mum had refused to take the kids she had a real problem.

  14

  When Amy came home after picking up the kids from school that afternoon, she saw Marnie chatting to Gemma across the road. And she could tell from the guilty look on her friend’s face that they were talking about her.

  ‘All right, love?’ Gemma called, her enormous breasts spilling over her arms as she leaned on the gate.

  Amy gave her a dirty look and hustled the kids inside without answering. Seconds later, Marnie was at the door.

  ‘Babe, we weren’t gossiping,’ she said when Amy gave her an accusing glare. ‘I was just asking if she knew that bird’s address so you can go and find Mark.’

  Amy’s heart lurched. ‘And?’

  ‘Sorry.’ Marnie shook her head. ‘Her mate’s daughter reckons they lost touch after she moved.’

  ‘Right,’ Amy said flatly, flicking a glance at Gemma who was smoking now and trying to pretend that she wasn’t watching. ‘I’ve got to go. The kids need their tea.’

  ‘I hope you’re not still mad at me for what I said about your new man?’ Marnie asked. ‘I’m pleased for you, I really am. I just don’t know why you didn’t want to tell me about him.’

  She looked hurt, and Amy sighed, because she knew that she’d feel the same if Marnie was keeping things from her like this. They were best mates – they told each other everything.

  Or, at least, they had until Yates had come along and put the fear of God into her.

  ‘There’s nothing going on,’ she said quietly. ‘He’s just an old friend who’s looking out for me, that’s all.’

  ‘So why’s he been going round the back like you’ve got something to hide?’

  ‘Because I didn’t want anyone to see him and start spreading it about that I’m cheating on Mark.’

  ‘Oh, right, I get you. But we’re all right, yeah? You’ve not fallen out with me?’

  ‘Course not,’ said Amy. Then, tentatively, she asked, ‘I, er, don’t suppose you’d babysit for me tonight, would you? Only my friend wants to take me out for a couple of drinks.’

  Marnie gave her a knowing smile. ‘Does he, now?’

  ‘Oh, just forget it,’ Amy snapped. ‘I don’t even know why I bothered asking.’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ Marnie said placatingly. ‘You know I’d do it if I could. But it’s our Pearl’s birthday, and we’re going clubbing. Why don’t you send them to your mum’s?’

  ‘She had them last night.’

  ‘I’m sure she’d have them again if she knew your friend was taking you out.’

  The emphasis she’d placed on the word didn’t escape Amy, and it sickened her to know that Marnie didn’t believe her.

  ‘Actually, I’ve changed my mind,’ she said. ‘Don’t really feel up to going out at the moment. Tell your sister happy birthday from me.’

  ‘What did she say?’ Gemma asked when Marnie walked back across the road.

  ‘Well, she’s admitted there’s a new man,’ Marnie told her conspiratorially. ‘But she reckons he’s just an old friend, and she didn’t want anyone to know about him in case they thought she was cheating on Mark.’

  ‘Which, of course, she isn’t.’ Gemma smirked.

  Marnie raised her eyebrows in a you-know-as-much-as-I-do gesture, and said, ‘She asked me to babysit so she can go out for a drink with him, but I’m going out. Pity, ’cos I know men, so I’d know as soon as I got a proper look at him if something was going on.’

  Gemma resisted the urge to say You should know men, you’ve had enough of ’em. Instead, she smiled, and said, ‘I’ll keep an eye out. Wonder if Mark knows?’

  ‘Doubt it,’ said Marnie, glancing at her watch. ‘Shit, best get going. I need to get a fanny tickler for our Pearl.’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘Don’t ask.’ Marnie grinned. ‘Let me know if you see anything.’ She jerked her head back towards Amy’s house befo
re waving goodbye.

  Amy struggled through the rest of the afternoon and evening. Nerves totally shot at the thought of what Yates had lined up for her, she was bad-tempered with the kids, shouting at them every time they made a noise and even smacking Bobby for knocking over a glass of milk, before sending them both to bed in tears.

  She already felt terrible about taking her stress out on them, but the guilt intensified when she peeped into their room at five to twelve and saw them snuggled together in Cassie’s bed. As she gazed at them – Cassie with her long black hair and serious little face, Bobby so fair and angelic – her tears began to flow all over again. The poor little things knew that something was wrong, and it was heartbreaking to think that they had turned to each other for comfort instead of to her. She was their mummy, the one who should be cuddling them and reassuring them, not hurting them and making them cry.

  A car drove slowly past the house just then and, as the glow of its headlights illuminated the thin curtains, Amy squeezed her eyes shut and whispered, ‘I’m so sorry, my babies. Please don’t wake up.’

  Yates was parked up in the inlet and he glared at Amy when she climbed nervously in beside him, wearing a hoodie and jeans. ‘I thought I told you to wear a short skirt.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘But I haven’t worn skirts since before I had the kids, and none of them fit me.’

  ‘Get a new one for next time,’ Yates ordered, throwing the car into gear and taking off at speed.

  Amy huddled against the door and sniffled softly.

  ‘Pack that in!’ Yates lashed her across the face with the back of his hand.

  ‘I c-can’t,’ Amy sobbed, holding a hand over her stinging cheek. ‘I’m worried about the kids.’

  ‘Like I told you last night, do a good job and you’ll be home before they wake up,’ Yates said uncaringly. ‘Mess me about, and you’ll be there all fuckin’ night. If I decide to let you go home,’ he added menacingly.

  ‘Wh-what do you mean?’ Amy stammered, terror for her children forcing her to speak even though experience had already taught her that it would be safer to keep her mouth shut.

  ‘I mean,’ said Yates, his eyes more piggy than ever as he stared at the road, ‘if you mess me about, I might just kill you and dump you on the moors. And then I’ll go back to yours and have a bit of fun with them brats of yours.’

  Unable to bear the noise when Amy started to wail, Yates slammed his foot on the brake and seized her by the throat. ‘Shut the fuck up! This is your last warning!’

  Amy bit down hard on her own hand to keep her sobs inside, but her chest was still heaving.

  ‘Right, I’ve had enough of this,’ Yates snarled, pulling a small tablet out of his pocket. ‘Take this.’

  Amy stared at it and shook her head.

  ‘I’m not fucking asking!’ Yates growled. ‘Open your mouth!’

  He was almost on top of her by now, and he was squeezing her cheeks so hard it was impossible for Amy to keep her teeth clamped together. She had no idea what the tablet was but, apart from the odd spliff, she’d never taken drugs in her life and she was absolutely petrified. She gagged when he shoved it onto her tongue, and tried to spit it out, but Yates covered her mouth with his hand and dragged her head so far back by the hair that she had no choice but to swallow.

  Yates made her open her mouth so he could check that she wasn’t hiding the pill under her tongue. Then, satisfied that it was gone, he restarted the car and drove on, saying, ‘You’ll feel better in a minute.’

  Amy hugged herself tightly. Her life was in tatters and she didn’t see how she was ever going to feel better again. She just hoped the pill would make her sick and Yates would be forced to take her to the hospital. Then she would tell the nurses about the kids and get them to send someone round to rescue them. They might get taken into care, but at least they would be safe – even if Yates then went berserk and killed everybody else in her address book.

  Fifteen minutes later, Yates turned along an alley behind a row of run-down houses in Longsight. He switched the ignition off and looked at Amy slumped in her seat, her head lolling, her eyes glazed and unfocused.

  ‘Told you you’d feel better,’ he said, easing her jacket aside and sliding his hand inside her top. Getting no resistance when he squeezed her nipple between his finger and thumb, he grinned and climbed out of the car.

  He pulled her out and walked her into a pitch-dark backyard, propping her against the wall before rapping on the door.

  ‘It’s me,’ he hissed when he heard the shuffle of feet on the other side.

  Two bolts were drawn back and a man opened the door. Yates shoved Amy into a dingy passageway and said, ‘Got my money?’

  ‘Upstairs,’ the man said, licking his lips as he eyed Amy.

  Barely conscious, Amy stared at the brown carpet that seemed to be undulating like a stream of filthy water beneath her feet as Yates pushed her up a flight of stairs.

  Two more men were upstairs, lounging on a shabby sofa and watching a porn movie on a huge flat-screen TV. The only other furniture in the room was an unmade bed, and a coffee table littered with overflowing ashtrays, spirit bottles, traces of coke, and several pieces of blackened tinfoil.

  When the first man handed over a wad of notes, Yates snatched it and shoved Amy down onto the bed. ‘I’ll be back in two hours. And I don’t wanna see no marks on her, so don’t get too rough.’

  ‘No worries,’ the man agreed, rubbing his hands together as he gazed at Amy staring unseeingly up at the nicotine-stained ceiling. ‘How old did you say she was again?’

  ‘Fourteen.’

  ‘She looks older.’

  ‘They all look fuckin’ older these days. Do you want it, or not?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, leave her. What’s she had?’

  ‘Rope,’ said Yates, heading for the door. ‘Laters.’

  He trotted back down the stairs and let himself out. The low-life kiddie-fiddlers preferred them even younger than fourteen, but Mancunian kids were too streetwise nowadays so it wasn’t as easy to get hold of little ones as it had been when he’d started out a decade earlier. Still, she was there now, so they would fuck her regardless.

  15

  ‘Mummy . . . Mummy, wake up. Bobby’s wee’d, and I need to get ready for school. Mummy!’

  ‘Gerroff!’ Amy flapped her hand at Cassie who was shaking her shoulder.

  ‘I need to get ready for school,’ Cassie repeated with a wobble in her voice. ‘But I can’t find any clean knickers.’

  Amy groaned, pulled herself into a sitting position and looked around. She was confused to see that she was on the couch. Her body was aching all over, her head banging, and she had a very vague memory of having gone out the night before – but none whatsoever of being out, or coming back.

  ‘We haven’t had breakfast,’ Cassie was saying now. ‘And Bobby’s been naughty in the kitchen.’

  ‘What you talking about?’ Amy grimaced at the foul taste in her mouth.

  ‘He tried to make an egg butty,’ Cassie told her. ‘But it spilled on the floor and maked a mess.’

  ‘Didn’t,’ Bobby protested, sidling guiltily into the room. ‘Wasn’t me.’

  ‘Yes, it was!’ Cassie turned on him accusingly. ‘Don’t lie. It’s naughty to lie.’

  ‘Just go and clean it up,’ Amy said irritably as a wave of nausea washed over her. ‘And put some cereal out while you’re there.’

  Cassie sighed as if she had the weight of the world on her little shoulders and went miserably into the kitchen to do as she’d been told.

  ‘Want hug?’ Bobby asked Amy, clambering onto the couch beside her.

  ‘Oh, God, just give me some space,’ she snapped, shoving him away.

  Her temper flared when he started whining and Amy slapped him on his bare leg. It was so unexpected that Bobby was momentarily stunned into silence. But then he breathed in sharply and burst into tears. Unable to bear it as the sound ricocheted around inside her hea
d, Amy raced up to the bathroom, making it just in time.

  When she came back downstairs a few minutes later, Cassie was cuddling Bobby on the couch and spoon-feeding him the last powdery bits of Coco Pops that had been in the box. Overcome by guilt, she sat down next to them.

  ‘I’m sorry for shouting. I just don’t feel very well today.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Cassie said quietly.

  ‘No, it’s not.’ Amy stroked the child’s hair. ‘And I’m sorry for smacking you, baby,’ she told Bobby, gently wiping the tears off his cheeks. ‘I won’t do it again, I promise.’

  Despite her best efforts, both children were late for school, and Amy felt sick all over again when Cassie’s teacher cornered her and lectured her about the importance of bringing Cassie in on time for assembly. Making a contrite promise not to be late again, she went home with her head in bits. She didn’t know what day it was, never mind what time, and hazy images kept flashing through her mind like pieces of a nightmarish disjointed jigsaw.

  When she turned the corner and saw Marnie and Gemma talking, at Marnie’s gate this time, she huddled deeper into her jacket. Just like the previous day, she could tell from the looks on their faces that they had been talking about her, and her heart started to race as she got near.

  As she passed, Gemma folded her arms and gave her a dirty look. ‘You’re a disgrace, you. Call yourself a mother? Going out and leaving them kids alone in the house like that. You want locking up.’

  ‘You talking to me?’ Amy turned and glared at her.

  ‘Yeah, I am,’ Gemma retorted aggressively. ‘And don’t bother denying it, ’cos I saw you going off with your fancy man.’

  ‘We’re not having a go,’ Marnie chipped in, trying to soften the blow of Gemma’s words. ‘But you asked me to babysit last night, so we know the kids must have been at home.’

  ‘I took them to my mum’s,’ Amy lied, tossing a betrayed look back at her friend as she marched up her path and slotted her key into the lock.

  ‘No, you didn’t, you lying bitch,’ yelled Gemma, as if she wanted the whole street to hear. ‘I was watching, and no one left that house last night except you.’