Deceit

by KERRY BARNES

  ‘Well, Lucy, either way, I need to see her to find out the bloody truth. I can’t have a child of mine being brought up in a prison. Jesus, I’ll go for custody. They will have to let me have the child. It has to be better than prison.’

  Stunned into silence, Lucy glared with venom in her eyes. She never expected Justin to take on the child, but then, perhaps it shouldn’t be such a shock. He loved to do everything the right way. Without thinking, she blurted out, ‘And what about me?’

  He studied her, with confusion across his face. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you want to take on her baby. Who will look after it, and what makes you think I want hers? We have our own son to think of, and for all we know …’ her eyes glistened ‘… he may have special needs. Or is that why you want her baby – because no doubt it will be perfect and not like ours.’ She began to cry, leaving the fat tears to roll down her face. Christ, I should go into acting, she thought. She could almost believe her own sad words.

  She was right. He hadn’t thought about Lucy and her needs, but he wanted his baby with him, not in prison. The urge was stronger than Lucy’s feelings right now. ‘Don’t be stupid, Lucy. I will love both the children equally, and if need be, I will get a nanny to help.’

  She noticed his firm words and manly expression; it made him distinctly more attractive and her more resolute to keep him.

  ‘How will you see her, if she doesn’t want to see you?’ she asked, forcing herself to keep her tone even.

  ‘I’ll go to the prison.’

  ‘She will have to send out a VO. She’s not on remand now, you know.’

  Alarm clearly showing across his face, he said, ‘How do you know so much about all of this, Lucy?’

  ‘Being in children’s homes, I heard and saw more than most as a youngster,’ she replied, evenly, grateful she was on the ball this morning.

  With a huff, he got up. ‘I’m popping into the office to collect some paperwork. I can work from home.’

  Lucy was hoping he would stay at the office. She needed a drink, and with him around, it was nigh on impossible. ‘Babe, you don’t have to come back. You stay there, I’m fine. I’ll probably go back to bed, as I didn’t sleep well, you know, worrying about our baby.’

  He nodded, kissed her on the forehead, and left.

  * * *

  Watching Justin leave the flat, Carl smiled to himself, thinking what a mug. Yesterday’s downpour had almost flooded the streets and the elderly lady in the flat below Lucy’s was struggling with two black sacks of rubbish because her slippers were sodden and falling off her feet. Carl jumped from his car and relieved her of the heavy bags. ‘Where do these go? In the green bin?’

  ‘Oh, me darling, thank you. Yes, just chuck them in there for us, will ya? It’s a job, ya know, to lift anything up these days, and those bins are so tall.’

  He looked the dainty woman up and down. ‘Why don’t you leave them on the ground, next to the bin? I’m sure that Justin, your neighbour, would help you with them.’

  She gave Carl a sad expression. ‘He would, bless him, a lovely young man, but his missus, Lucy, would go mad. The last time I dropped rubbish, she shouted at me in the street. I thought, crikey, I’d best not upset her again.’ She stopped and stepped back. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I’m speaking out of turn. She’s probably a lovely lady, really.’

  Carl put his arm around her shoulder. ‘Nah, me darling, she’s a bitch. Do you need anything else doing, sweetheart, while I’ve got a bit of time on me hands?’

  She looked up and her eyes watered. ‘Well, there is a job …’

  ‘Go on, what do ya need doing?’ He chuckled.

  ‘My husband died, six months ago, a tall man, twice my size, and well, all our memories, photos, and things, are on top of the wardrobes, and I can’t reach them. I keep looking at them, and it breaks my heart that I can’t get my hands on them.’

  Carl squeezed her shoulder. ‘Well, then, let’s get those memories back for ya, shall we?’

  He followed her inside and straight into her bedroom. ‘There, see?’ She pointed to the 1920s suitcases stacked neatly above the wardrobes.

  He carefully pulled them down and laid each one on the bed. ‘There you go, love.’ He smiled, as he saw the pure delight on her face.

  ‘Oh, I have longed to get them back. Every night, I sit in that bed and stare up at them and pray one day, well, you must be that angel I longed for. Thank you, my dear. By the way, my name’s Lillian, Lilly for short.’

  Carl nodded but didn’t introduce himself. ‘Anything else, while I’m here?’

  She blushed, and all the creases, hiding a lifetime of marriage, lit up her face, making her look years younger. ‘Well, yes, if you wouldn’t mind. On top of the kitchen cabinets is my cake mixer and a few cooking bits. I love making cakes, but arthritis in my hands won’t let me do it without that mixer. My Harry used to put everything away, Gawd rest his soul. I didn’t think he was going to die when he did.’

  After removing all the cooking pots and cake mixer from above the units, he placed them on the kitchen side and shivered. ‘Is your heating not working, love?’

  Lillian shook her head. ‘No, my dear, I have to put the gas fire on in the living room.’

  Carl looked at the boiler on the wall and noticed the switch high up just above the cabinet. He pressed the button and at once the boiler began rumbling. Lillian clapped her hands together. ‘That’s it. Oh my goodness, what did you do? I’ve been fiddling with the dial and couldn’t get it to work.’

  ‘I pressed a button next to it. Ya ol’ man must have turned it off. Look, up there.’ He pointed to the partially hidden time clock.

  ‘Oh, you are a good boy. Well, I bet your mother is proud of you.’

  Carl shook his head. ‘I doubt it, but then, I ain’t too fond of me mother, to be honest. She’s not a nice person.’

  ‘Ahh, that’s a shame. I don’t have a lot of money, but let me give you a few pounds because you’ve made an old lady very happy.’

  He rubbed her shoulders. ‘Well, that’s all the payment I want, to see that smile on ya face.’ With that, he pulled a card from his pocket. ‘Take this, it’s got me phone number on it. Call me, if you need me.’

  She took the card, and as he was about to leave, he saw her eyes moisten. A soft glow emanated from her face. ‘I never had children, but if I’d had a son, I would have loved him to be like you.’

  ‘And, Lillian, I would have liked a mum, like you.’ He kissed her on the cheek and was gone.

  * * *

  As Lillian returned to her bedroom, excited to look through her photo album, she heard Lucy shouting. Lillian thought about calling the police, when she heard the words, ‘Fuck off, or I will call the Ol’ Bill’. But she didn’t. The young woman had a nasty side to her, and if it was that nice young man at the door, he didn’t look like any threat to anyone.

  She opened the first suitcase and fingered her beautiful gowns and the precious dresses and jewels her mother had left her. She’d pretended to her husband that they were costume jewellery, but they weren’t, they were real. Then she pulled a photo album from under her bed. Flicking the first page over at her husband looking back at her, she smiled. He was deathly white in his sick bed, days before he died. ‘I will get this photo enlarged, Harry, and drink to you dying, ya nasty ’orrible bastard.’

  Not only had Lillian been violently bullied all her married life, she’d been left with nothing at the end of it. He’d spent their money, and when he went out on the piss, he would turn the heating off. He never told her where the on-off button was. She’d been struggling to keep warm next to the small gas fire in the flat, that day he came home drunk. It was the day he crushed her hands and broke her fingers, leaving her, years later, riddled with arthritis.

  * * *

  Lucy was desperate to get Carl out of the house, still unsure if Justin was going to return with the paperwork. ‘You can’t just turn up here whenever you fucking plea
se. I’ve already told you once – I’ll call the Ol’ Bill,’ she bellowed. ‘Now, get out!’

  Carl mocked her again. ‘Lucy Lou, don’t get so lairy. You always have been a cocky little prat. Now, shut ya mouth.’

  Her eyes narrowed, and her spiteful glare might have been enough to scare some men. But not him.

  He smirked. ‘Your shitty past is your past. Quite frankly, I don’t give a toss, but you owe me twenty fucking grand.’

  ‘You’re fucking loaded, so what’s twenty grand to you?’ she spat, with her hands on her hips and defiance plastered across her face.

  ‘Yeah, you’re right, I am doing well for meself, and doing it honestly and fairly now. Unlike you. I know your game, Lucy, but it won’t work. Taking up with a decent fella won’t change who you are.’

  His arrogance and clearly defined words, with no hint of anger, infuriated her. She wanted him, not Justin, or anyone else, just him. ‘Well, you can whistle for your money. You owe that to me, anyway.’

  He leaned against the doorframe and laughed. ‘And what for, Lucy? Tell me how the hell do I owe you twenty grand?’

  She flared her nostrils. ‘Lots of fucking reasons. You raped me as a kid, you had me working for ya sitting on that banker’s lap, and you used me as a fucking hooker. I earned you money and what did I get, eh? Fuck-all, that’s what.’

  He shook his head. ‘I would have thought, Lucy Lou, by now you would have grown out of your mad illusions. You’ve always been a pathological liar, a totally warped headcase. You only saw what you wanted to see, and deep down in that disturbed brain of yours, you know damn well I never fucking raped you—’

  Before he could finish, she ran at him, clawing at his face, but he grabbed her wrists and pushed her down onto the sofa. ‘Leave off, Lucy, don’t start getting violent with me. The problem is you believe in ya own lies. Tell me, Lou Lou, did you ever go back and see your shrink?’

  Her anger was rising, her face bright red. ‘I never needed a shrink, you bastard!’

  ‘Come on, your dear ol’ farver—’

  ‘Yes, me ol’ man fucking sold me to you to pay off a debt.’

  He shook his head again, not shocked to hear those words. ‘You need to go back and see that psychiatrist of yours. There was no debt!’

  Lucy leaped from the sofa, screaming at the top of her voice, ‘You and me farver were the fucking reason I needed a shrink!’

  He could see she was apoplectic with rage, just by the expression on her face and the fact that the veins in her neck were bulging. ‘Calm down, Lucy, you’re expecting a baby. You need to settle yaself. I’m going before you pop that baby out. However, I will be back, and I do want me money.’

  He turned to leave, but she grabbed him by the arm. ‘You know what you did to me,’ she cried. ‘You raped me when I was fucking fifteen. I owe you nothing.’

  He knew then he had to leave. The tears were falling down her cheeks, snot bubbled from her nose, and she looked deranged. ‘Get off me, Lucy, I’m going, and I won’t be back until you have the baby, and then I want me money, but I’ll not upset you again.’ He looked at her hand clutching his arm and then at the swollen belly.

  She let go and screamed, ‘I hate you, Carl. I fucking hate you.’

  He looked back at her, as he headed for the front door and felt guilty. He knew she loved him, she always had. But he could never be with her. She was just not his type. He was doing her father a favour but he wished now he’d never got involved.

  Lucy was hysterical and grabbed him once more. ‘I will pay you your fucking money, and then, I never want to see you again. Wait there!’

  He stopped and waited, as she tore up the stairs. He hoped she did have the money; it would save him from having to lay eyes on her again. She appeared like a bat out of hell, angrily hurtling down the stairs. ‘Here, fucking take this, it’s worth ten grand, and you will get the other half when I have it!’ She slapped a ring into the palm of his hand.

  He didn’t bother to look at it, too intent on getting out of the flat and away from the psycho bitch. The look in her eyes said she was out of her mind, and knowing Lucy, she could easily have pulled a knife on him. Besides, she had done so once before, leaving a nasty scar on his leg. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake again.

  * * *

  Lillian was in her element trying on the silk dresses and parading around in her mother’s jewels whilst enjoying the warmth of the flat, when something caught her eye. She peered down, and there on the floor was a wad of notes held together by a diamond and gold clip. The young man must have dropped it. She flicked the bundle of notes and her heart skipped a beat; there was enough money in her hand to fill her larder and pay the gas bill.

  Then she felt guilty for even thinking it. She had his number, so there was no excuse; but for a while, she continued strutting in front of the mirror in her expensive gown, with the rows of pearls and diamond bracelets, fanning herself with the fifty-pound notes.

  * * *

  Carl made it to his car, thankful he was still in one piece. That girl was totally out of control. He sat and sighed and then opened his hand to find the ring. He held it up to the light and noticed it wasn’t a diamond but an unusual beige-coloured gemstone; the band itself was quite thick for a lady’s ring. He was attracted to the piece and slipped it on his little finger. Knowing Lucy, she would have nicked the ring from one of her punters, so it could be worth a few quid.

  He looked back at the flat and decided it was better to leave Lucy alone. Not that he wanted to write off the money, but never seeing her again was worth forfeiting twenty grand. His stomach churned over at the very thought of her and the sick games she played. He had better things to think about. He could leave and never look back.

  He drove along Chislehurst High Street and headed for home. As he stopped close to the crossroads, he thought he saw Justin. He shuddered; the poor man had no idea what he’d let himself in for.

  * * *

  Justin had decided to take his paperwork home. He was too tired and drained to deal with any customers. Some of the lads were busy positioning cars in the showroom using car wheel dollies, so all he needed to do was to update the company’s expenses. Holding three heavy files, he tried to manoeuvre his way up the path, dodging the pools of water from the recent flooding.

  Back home Lillian was on her way to the phone box to call Carl, when she saw Justin struggling. ‘Oh, my dear, can I help you with those?’

  Justin straightened the files that were about to slide from his hands. ‘I think I have them balanced but thank you.’ He smiled and was about to continue into the flat.

  ‘Oh, um … your wife’s friend was here earlier. I was just about to call him from the phone box. He left something behind. Would you let him know?’ She suspected he wasn’t still at Justin’s flat, but even if he was, she didn’t feel inclined to knock on the door herself, after all the screaming and shouting.

  A deep frown was etched across Justin’s brow. ‘Sorry, who did you say was here?’

  ‘I didn’t, but he seemed such a lovely man, a real gentleman. Anyway, would you let him know I have his money?’

  Justin was trying to absorb her words. ‘I’m sorry, love, I don’t know who you mean, but if he is still here, I’ll tell him.’

  She gave him a quizzical look and left him there.

  He didn’t bother to dodge the puddles but angrily marched up to the front entrance.

  * * *

  The noise of the door slamming shut made Lucy jump, and she hurriedly hid the bottle of brandy inside her secret box, which she kept out of sight under the bottom shelf of the wardrobe. No one would even suspect that inside that concealed compartment were all her darkest secrets. God help her, if they were ever discovered. She rushed to the bathroom to clean her teeth and then waited for Justin to call out. The sound of him banging and crashing rang alarm bells. Something was clearly wrong.

  She joined him in the living room where he was sitting at the small d
ining table, staring at a pile of folders.

  ‘Are you okay, love?’ she asked sheepishly.

  Assuming he was annoyed about Kara being pregnant, she was taken aback when he shot her a look of disdain. His top lip curled like a dog’s, his eyes narrow.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Who was the man you had in the flat earlier?’ he growled.

  She stood like a rabbit caught in the headlights. ‘Are you spying on me?’ she spat back.

  ‘No, I’m not fucking spying on you, but that comment is a strange one, Lucy. What do you have to hide?’

  She realised she’d asked the wrong question and tried to hold back her temper. ‘It was Carl, if you must know, but I sent him away.’

  Justin stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘What does he want? And cut the crap, Lucy. There’s more to this man than you’re telling me, so spit it out, because I’ve just about had enough. I want the fucking truth.’

  Her eyes flicked from side to side, as she grappled to find a plausible story. ‘Carl is infatuated with me, and somehow, he’s found out where I live and …’ she stalled.

  ‘And what, Lucy? What does he fucking want?’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Justin, the man’s in love with me. He always has been and wants me for himself.’ Her lie was believable … to herself. ‘He tries everything to get me back.’

  ‘What do you mean “to get me back”? I thought you said he raped you when you were a kid?’

  Her face reddened. She’d forgotten she’d told Justin that.

  ‘Yes, he did, and then he treated me as if I was his girlfriend. You know, buying me stuff, sending flowers.’

  ‘No, Lucy, you said he wants you back, as if you were dating him,’ shouted Justin.

  ‘Please, Justin, you have to understand. I was a kid, a desperate kid, and I knew no different. He did take me out a few times, but I went out of fear. I was terrified of him. He stalked me; he wouldn’t leave me alone. The man was obsessed. I managed to get away, and now he has found me, he’s trying it again.’ She allowed her voice to waver, giving the impression she was afraid and upset.