Broke

by Mandasue Heller

  Inside Amy’s house just then, Yates had his hand clamped over her mouth and was dragging her into the kitchen. Her hands were covered in blood, and the front room was destroyed: mirror shattered, broken ornaments littering the floor, couch overturned, and tea dripping down the wall from where she’d hurled the cup at it. It was her wedding picture that had caused the cuts to her hands. Not satisfied with just smashing it, Amy had torn the photograph out through the jagged spikes of glass, shredding her flesh in the process. But she hadn’t cared about the pain, she’d just wanted to tear Mark to pieces the way he’d done with her heart.

  Yates shoved her down onto a chair and warned her to keep her mouth shut before taking his hand away. Then, tipping the dirty dishes out of the washing-up bowl, he filled it with warm water and carried it to the table.

  ‘Are you fucking stupid?’ he demanded as he grabbed one of her hands and plunged it into the water. ‘Your mate was about to call the pigs when I got here. And if you thought you had it bad now, it’s nothing to what they’d have done if they’d clocked the state of this place.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ Amy snarled. ‘He’s got my kids, and he’s never giving them back because he thinks I’m having an affair with you!’

  Yates chuckled softly and hauled her hand out of the bloodied water to check the damage.

  ‘Get off me!’ Amy yelled, tugging her arm out of his grasp. ‘You’ve destroyed my life, you bastard! My husband’s shacked up with some tart, my friends think I’m scum, and my mum and dad aren’t talking to me ’cos they think all of this is my fault. I hate you!’

  ‘My, we are feeling sorry for ourselves, aren’t we?’ drawled Yates, reaching for her other hand. ‘Seems to me you brought all this on yourself by marrying the dickhead in the first place. What kind of a man runs out on the woman he’s supposed to love and leaves her to pay his debts? If you ask me, I did you a favour.’

  ‘GET OUT!’ Amy screeched, leaping up and punching and clawing at his face. ‘Just get out of my fucking house!’

  Pissed off when she got blood on his jacket, Yates headbutted her. When she collapsed, smashing her head on the hard tile floor, he took a syringe out of his pocket and rooted through the sink for a spoon. She was getting too emotional, and that was dangerous, because she could drop him right in it if she mouthed off to the wrong person. But this would soon sort her out.

  After preparing the syringe, he pulled his belt out of its loops and knelt beside Amy.

  ‘Don’t,’ she croaked, coming to as he shoved her sleeve up. ‘Please . . .’

  ‘Don’t beg.’ Yates grinned. ‘You know I can’t resist you when you beg.’

  Amy cried out and arched her back when he plunged the spike into her flesh. But, seconds later, her mouth fell open and her eyes rolled back.

  ‘There we go,’ Yates said softly. ‘Few more of them and you’ll soon forget about them kids of yours.’

  Marnie had been watching through the window the whole time Yates had been inside Amy’s house. When she saw him walk towards his car a short time later, she ran outside.

  ‘Is she okay?’

  ‘She’s asleep.’ Yates quickly adjusted the smirk on his lips into an expression of weariness and concern. ‘She’s just upset about that ex of hers.’

  ‘It’s terrible what he’s done to her,’ Marnie said angrily. ‘I could kill him, I really could.’

  ‘She’ll be all right,’ Yates sighed. ‘She’s got me now. I’ll look after her. Just off to get some wood for the window.’ He opened the car door. ‘Couldn’t do us a favour and listen out for her, could you?’

  ‘I’ll sit in with her, if you want,’ Marnie offered.

  ‘Thanks, love, but best not.’ Yates gave her an embarrassed smile. ‘It’s a bit of a state in there, to be honest. And she’s, er, taken something,’ he added quietly, glancing around as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear. ‘I’m not too happy about it, ’cos I’m not into drugs, but she reckons she needs it.’

  ‘I knew it,’ Marnie said flatly. ‘I asked her if she was on something and she denied it, but I just knew it. Let me guess . . . smack?’

  ‘Keep it to yourself, eh?’ Yates urged. ‘I’m going to get her off it, but it ain’t gonna be easy. It’s already messed her head up. She tells me all this stuff, and I know half of it ain’t true, but what can I do?’ He sighed again as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Then, shrugging, he said, ‘Best go so I can get back before she wakes up. Cheers again for your help, love.’

  ‘No problem. I’m Marnie, by the way.’

  ‘Lenny.’ He held out his hand.

  ‘Nice to meet you.’ She shook it. ‘And I’m, er, just next door if you ever need anything. Even if you just want a chat, or a brew, or whatever.’

  Yates nodded and gave her a grateful smile before climbing into the car.

  Marnie stepped back onto the pavement and watched as he drove away. He was ugly, there was no denying that, but he seemed to genuinely care for Amy, and Marnie couldn’t help but wish that a man would feel like that about her, instead of just wanting to shag her and run. Amy had been mooching around like a tramp for weeks, snapping at people when they tried to talk to her and locking herself away behind closed curtains. It amazed Marnie that any man would look twice at her right now, never mind tolerate her crazy outbursts. But she’d hooked herself a good one there.

  Envy stirring in her gut, Marnie went back into her house and turned down the TV volume to listen out for Amy – not for Amy’s sake, for Lenny’s. She was disgusted with her friend for sinking so low as to get hooked on smack. They’d all had their hearts broken at some time or other, but they hadn’t all used it as an excuse to turn into a dirty junkie.

  It was no wonder that Mark had taken the kids, because he obviously knew how bad Amy really was. And Gemma had been right about her, as well. In fact, it seemed like everyone except Marnie had seen her for what she really was.

  But Marnie wouldn’t be falling for any more of her lies. She’d given the bitch the benefit of the doubt too many times and had it chucked right back in her face. But it would be that poor man who would be getting her support from now on, not Amy. And he was going to need it, because he obviously didn’t know what he was letting himself in for.

  On his way to the job centre just then, Mark was still chewing over the conversation he’d had with Amy. The custody and divorce thing had been Jenny’s idea, and he’d only said it to Amy to hurt her. But now she’d admitted that Yates was the mystery man that Marnie had told him about he didn’t see how he could ever go back.

  He had his head down as he walked, and his hood pulled right over his head. As he passed the timber merchant’s on Chorlton Road, he didn’t notice the car about to head into the parking lot. But the driver saw him, and pulled right in front of him.

  ‘All right, stranger – long time no see.’

  Mark’s heart dropped down through his feet at the sound of Yates’s voice. Apart from when he’d picked the kids up last week, he’d hardly stepped foot out of the flat for fear of bumping into Yates. And he wouldn’t be out now if the bastards at the DSS hadn’t refused to let him switch to signing on at a different office.

  ‘I don’t want any trouble,’ he stammered, holding his hands out in front of him. ‘Please, Len . . . I’ll pay you back, I swear I will. I’ve just—’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Yates interrupted, enjoying watching him squirm as he climbed out of the car. ‘Your missus is taking care of me, so we’re square.’ He paused, lit a cigarette, and grinned. ‘Right little goer when she gets started, ain’t she? Proper knows her way around a cock.’

  The blood drained from Mark’s face as Yates’s words scored a direct hit, but he kept his mouth shut.

  ‘How’s that pretty little girl of yours?’ Yates asked now, squinting at Mark through the smoke. ‘Hope you’re looking after her?’

  ‘Yeah, course,’ Mark muttered sickly.

  ‘Good.’ Yates nodded his ap
proval. ‘Between you and me, I reckon they’re better off with you, ’cos their mam ain’t exactly equipped to look after them – if you get me drift? Bit too fond of the old . . .’ He held up his hands and mimed chasing the dragon.

  Satisfied that he’d fucked the man’s day up when he saw the pain in Mark’s eyes, Yates took another drag on his smoke and smirked. ‘Oh, well, best let you go. Make sure you give your little ’un a kiss from Uncle Lenny when you get home, won’t you?’

  As Yates climbed back into his car and drove away, Mark struggled to control the seething anger and jealousy. Much as it was a relief to know that he was off the hook for the money, because it had been horrible being stuck in the flat with Jenny twenty-four-seven, he just couldn’t get to grips with the thought of Amy and Yates seeing each other.

  As his head began to clear, an icy coldness settled over him. It was over. And as soon as he’d signed on, he was going to see a solicitor and start the ball rolling for real.

  19

  Three weeks later, Yates drove into a darkened parking lot at the rear of a cash-and-carry in Levenshulme, switched off the engine, and nudged Amy with his elbow.

  She stirred and peered blearily out through the window. Confused to see that they weren’t at the back of Piccadilly Station where he had been dropping her off every night, she said, ‘Where are we?’

  ‘You’re shit on the streets, so you ain’t doing that no more,’ Yates told her as he unbuckled his seat belt and hopped out. ‘You’re gonna be working here from now on, where someone can keep an eye on you.’

  Amy wasn’t really listening, but even if she had been she wouldn’t have cared. In the weeks since Mark had dropped his divorce bombshell, she’d thought she would never climb out of the black hole he’d pushed her into. But now she had the smack to take her mind off it, none of it seemed to matter quite so much any more.

  Yates walked her through an open gate and up to a metal door at the rear of the building, above which a single security light highlighted a small faded sign that read Hawaii. A spyhole was drawn back when he knocked and a dark eye peered out.

  ‘We’re not open. Come back in half an hour.’

  ‘Do I look like a fuckin’ punter?’ Yates snapped. ‘It’s me, you plank. Mani’s expecting me.’

  The door opened, and a black security guard waved them in. ‘Sorry, couldn’t see you properly. He’s in the office.’

  Yates shoved Amy ahead of him up the stairs. At the top, another door opened onto a dimly lit corridor. ‘Stay there,’ he ordered.

  When he disappeared into a room at the far end of the corridor, Amy swung her head around at the sound of laughter to her right. Through a partially open door she could see several women lounging on shabby couches, each of them wearing short dressing gowns and sucking on cigarettes. One who looked much older than the rest seemed to be holding court from a chair in the corner. Fat, with enormous breasts, she had a scabby feather boa draped around her shoulders, unnaturally black hair, and a face so thick with make-up that Amy thought she looked like Alice Cooper’s mother.

  ‘So I told him straight,’ the woman was saying, waving her long cigarette holder around as she spoke and leaving a trail of purple smoke in the air. ‘I said, Andy, if I wanted a horse, I’d go to the bloody stables. Put it away before you do some serious damage, you naughty boy.’

  ‘Who’s Andy?’ a younger girl asked.

  ‘Warhol, of course,’ said the old woman. ‘Had ’em all in my time, I have.’

  ‘Yeah, in your dreams,’ scoffed another girl, heading towards the door. She yanked it open and stopped in her tracks when she saw Amy. ‘Who the fuck are you?’

  Too spaced out to be bothered to answer, Amy stared back at her without speaking. Recognising a fellow junkie, the girl smiled slowly. ‘Got any gear on you?’

  Before Amy could respond, Yates called her name and waved for her to come to the office. She pushed herself away from the wall and walked towards him, the old woman’s voice floating along behind her: ‘Did I ever tell you girls about the time I visited the Earl of Whatjamacallit in his castle? Bedroom as big as this whole place – and a todger to match . . .’

  In the office, a fat Asian man was sitting behind the desk. He looked Amy up and down when she came in, then smiled and waved for her to sit on the sofa against the wall.

  ‘Well?’ Yates raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Very nice.’ The man stood up and came around the desk to shake his hand.

  Yates turned to Amy. ‘Right, I’m off. I’ll pick you up at five. Do as Mani tells you – and no messing about or there’ll be trouble.’

  Mani locked the door behind him and turned back to Amy with a leering smile on his flabby wet lips.

  ‘Right, then, blondie.’ He unzipped his fly. ‘Let’s see if you’re as good as he says you are.’

  PART TWO

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  20

  Two letters had arrived that morning, and Amy had read and reread them several times throughout the day. But she still couldn’t get her head around them.

  Decree Absolute . . .

  She stared at the words and wondered why solicitors could never speak in plain English. Why not just get straight to the point and say: Ha! Loser! He don’t love you no more! Because that was effectively what it meant.

  She screwed the letter into a ball and hurled it at the wall. It bounced off and landed inches away from the other one: the one informing her that Mark had been granted temporary custody of the children and that, due to her unreasonable behaviour and continued abuse of illegal substances, access – if allowed – would be restricted to a secure location, under strict supervision.

  Bastards! Dirty, lying, fucking bastards!

  Clean yourself up and come to court, they’d said. The judge will see that you’re making an effort and be more inclined to view your situation kindly.

  And Amy had tried, she really had. She’d dressed nicely, and had tried to stay calm and speak politely even when they were saying horrible things about her. But if her own mother hadn’t been able to bear to look at her, she’d stood no chance with the officials.

  ‘You should be ashamed of yourself,’ her mother had said when they left court. ‘I didn’t bring you up to be a tramp, but that’s exactly what you’ve become. And I’m glad Mark and Jenny have got the children,’ she had added as a cruel parting shot. ‘At least they know how to look after them properly.’

  Her hands shaking violently as the memory replayed itself in her mind, Amy snatched up the blackened strip of tinfoil and tipped the last of her heroin onto it. Then, stuffing the rolled-up note she’d taken from Cassie’s old Monopoly game into her mouth, she held her lighter flame beneath the foil and greedily sucked up the smoke.

  It took effect quickly and she slumped back in her seat, sighing as the anger and pain began to drift away. It had been ages since she’d seen the kids, and she hated Mark for making it so difficult. But she’d deal with him later.

  When she was better.

  And she would get better.

  Eventually.

  When people stopped making her life hell.

  She was still gouched out when Yates walked in a short time later, and he booted her in the leg.

  ‘Oi! Get the fuck up. You’re gonna be late.’

  ‘Ugh?’ Amy peeled her eyes open and gazed blearily up at him.

  ‘Look at the state of you,’ he spat. ‘How many times have I told you to lay off the gear till you’ve finished work? Think the punters want to look at that when they’re trying to get their ends away?’

  Amy was wasted, but not so wasted that she didn’t know better than to argue.

  ‘Get up the stairs!’ he growled, dragging her off the couch and hurling her towards the door. ‘And make sure you get a proper wash, ’cos you fuckin’ stink,’ he added, booting her in the arse as she stumbled into the hall. ‘Rate you’re going, you’ll still be turning tricks from your fuckin’ grave before you’ve paid me back, you piss-
taking slag!’

  Properly awake now, Amy scuttled up to the bathroom and dashed water over her face before running into the bedroom and changing into a short skirt and low top – both of which were stained, but they’d be coming off soon enough, so she didn’t care. Lastly, she spritzed her underarms and mouth with perfume before running back down to where Yates was waiting in the hall.

  He pushed her out of the door and walked her swiftly to the car. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marnie come out onto her step and quickly dropped the scowl as he shoved Amy onto the passenger seat.

  ‘At it again?’ Marnie asked.

  Yates gave a what-can-you-do? kind of shrug.

  ‘You’re a bloody saint,’ said Marnie, shaking her head in disgust.

  She herself had long since given up on Amy. Every word that came out of her mouth was a lie, and the one time Marnie had made the mistake of feeling sorry for her and letting her in for a brew Amy had nicked a tenner off the mantelpiece on her way out.

  ‘I can only try,’ Yates said humbly as he headed around to his side of the car. ‘See you later.’

  ‘Are you coming round?’

  ‘If I can.’ Yates winked, waved, and hopped into the car.

  Amy glowered out at Marnie as they set off. The bitch thought that Amy didn’t know she was shagging Yates, but little did she know that Yates had told Amy all about it. It was all part of the game to him, and he got a kick out of knowing that the neighbours had fallen for his innocent-boyfriend-trying-to-keep-his-wayward-woman-on-the-straight-and-narrow act. If Marnie did but know it, Amy was actually grateful that she’d taken some of Yates’s attention away from her. He hadn’t stopped sleeping with Amy altogether, but any day that he wasn’t forcing himself on her was a good day.

  Amy couldn’t, however, so easily forgive Marnie for the rest of it. Once, way back in the agonising weeks after Mark had first snatched the kids and Amy was at rock-bottom, she’d broken down and spilled her guts to Marnie. But instead of supporting her, the back-stabbing bitch had relayed every word to Yates, earning Amy the beating of her life. And now Marnie looked at her as if she was a piece of shit – as did everyone else who was supposed to care about her. And they wondered why she needed the smack to keep her going.