Chapter 36
Adele was lying in the bath. She was supposed to be relaxing but as soon as she was alone, with nothing else to occupy her mind, she began to think. Yes, she had a happy life with John but nothing could eradicate the painful recollections of her past. As she lay there, the memories surfaced. The violence at home. The taunts from other kids. And the scornful way she was treated by adults.
She missed her brother who she rarely saw nowadays. Their lives were too different, making it difficult to relate to each other anymore. But they were still linked together by the past.
There had been a time when Peter had been the closest person to her, and sometimes she yearned for that bond again. She knew Peter had moved on from the squat and now had his own flat. What she didn’t know was how he found the money to pay for the rent and bills. But she had her suspicions, especially since he’d already been in prison, and she guessed that none of his earnings would be legal.
Although Adele had a loving boyfriend and good friends, nobody could replace her brother. There was something about suffering hardship together that brought you closer. A shared knowledge. An unwritten understanding. Years of looking out for each other, which somehow helped to ease the emotional burden. The absence of her brother had left a void in her life and it was one that nobody else could fill.
When her mind refused to switch off, she stepped out of the bath and pulled the plug. She didn’t want to dwell; it wasn’t good to dwell. Adele wrapped the towel around herself and made sure she put the lids back on the bottles of luxury bathroom toiletries which neatly lined the bath.
‘That was quick,’ said John when Adele joined him downstairs.
‘I thought I’d join you to watch some TV,’ she said, snuggling up to him on the sofa.
‘OK, we’ve just got time for a chat before the film starts,’ said John.
There was something about the way John said the word ‘chat’; it sounded ominous. Adele stared at him, her face full of concern, but didn’t say anything while she waited for him to speak.
‘That promotion I told you about,’ he began. Adele could feel the dread in the pit of her stomach as she listened to his words. ‘They want a decision; they’re giving me till Friday.’
‘And?’ she asked.
John took hold of the tops of her arms as he continued to speak, but Adele was stiff and unresponsive.
‘I want to take it, Adele,’ he said. ‘It’s a brilliant opportunity. We could be really happy there. I’ve been doing some research on the area and it sounds great,’ he gushed.
‘I don’t want to go, John,’ she said, exasperated. You know that; I’ve already told you! So what will you do if I don’t come with you?’
John released his hold on her arms, creating a physical distance between them. ‘I’m sorry Adele, but I’m taking it. Please say you’ll come with me. It won’t be the same if you don’t.’
‘For God’s sake, John! There are more important things than money. Don’t you think our relationship is more important than a flaming promotion?’
‘It doesn’t need to be the end of our relationship. Please, Adele, say you’ll come with me!’
‘No!’ she yelled. ‘I’ve told you, I’m not coming. I can’t!’
John also started to become irate. ‘You could come if you wanted to. The fact is, you don’t want to come, do you?’
‘I’ve told you, I can’t!’ she stormed, the rage building within her.
‘Why? Because of your family. A brother you hardly ever see, a father you hate and a neurotic mother who puts on you.’
‘Don’t you dare!’ she warned. ‘My mother needs me. She can’t help the way she is. And I do see Peter.’ Even to her, the words sounded unconvincing.
‘When do you see him?’ John hit back. ‘Hardly ever. He’s a bloody criminal, Adele! You need to give him a wide berth. And as for your mother…’
John didn’t get chance to finish his last sentence. Consumed by temper, Adele reacted without thinking. She smacked him hard across the face, leaving him stunned. John automatically drew up his hand to cover his cheek, which was hot and stinging from the angry blow.
Adele stared, open-mouthed; shocked at her own actions. But it was done. She couldn’t take it back. She waited for John’s words of retaliation. But he didn’t speak; he just looked at her contemptuously then got up from the sofa and walked away.
That cut into her more than any words could have done. ‘I’m sorry, John,’ she said, speeding after him as he left the room. ‘I’m really sorry!’ she shouted up the stairs as she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’
She caught up with him and placed a conciliatory hand on his arm.
John spun around, ‘Take your hand off me!’ he demanded.
Adele could see that an angry red welt was forming on John’s cheek, and the guilt tore away at her.
‘Leave me alone,’ he said. ‘I want nothing to do with you.’
‘Please, John! I didn’t mean it. I was just angry when you had a go at my family.’
‘I don’t give a shit about your family! Now go away and leave me alone.’ he shouted. ‘I want nothing more to do with you.’
She pursued him as he sped into the bedroom and took a suitcase from the top of the wardrobe, flinging clothing haphazardly inside it. Despite her pleas, John continued to fill the case. She was desperate; she didn’t want to lose him. Reacting to her own despair, she grabbed at his arm to hold him back.
‘Take your fuckin’ hands of me!’ he yelled. ‘I’ve told you, I want nothing further to do with you.’ She backed off but John wasn’t finished. ‘Y’know, I’ve put up with a lot from you and your family, Adele. Having to visit them when your father hardly speaks two words to me, and trying to make conversation with your docile mother. And as for your brother! I can’t tell you what a relief it is to not be associated with the sister of a criminal anymore.’
Adele didn’t retaliate. She was feeling too remorseful for what she had done to John’s face, and looking at it was making her feel even worse. So, instead, she left him to pack, and returned to the living room. There she sat and cried desperate tears for what she’d lost.
She heard the door slam as John left. Now she had yet another failed relationship behind her. And she was alone once more.
Chapter 37
Peter looked through the spyhole in his front door before opening it. He was always careful who he let inside. With some of the activities he was involved in, it paid to be cautious. He saw a familiar face staring impatiently at the door waiting for him to answer. It was his contact, Spikey, and he was carrying a package.
Peter opened the door and indicated for Spikey to come inside. Without preamble, Peter nodded at the parcel Spikey was carrying. ‘You got ’em then?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, same price as we agreed,’ said Spikey, holding out the parcel and waiting for the money.
‘Hang on. I need to check ’em first,’ said Peter.
Spikey followed Peter through to the living room. He sat down and waited, his restless twitch bearing evidence to his habitual use of cocaine.
Peter tore open the box and pulled away the strips of paper that covered its contents. When he had ripped away the last of the paper, he whistled. ‘These are beauties,’ he said.
‘Told you they would be,’ said Spikey as Peter took out the first of the guns and played around with it in his hands, feeling its weight and sizing it up. He pulled back the trigger and pointed, causing an upsurge in Spikey’s twitching.
‘I take it they’re not loaded?’ Peter asked.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Spikey. ‘But don’t be taking any fuckin’ chances!’
Peter chuckled and pulled out the other gun revealing the bullets which were laid out in a compartment underneath. ‘Nice one. Looks like you got hold of plenty of ammo as well.’
‘Don’t be fuckin’ loading ’em here,’ said Spikey.
‘Don’t worry. As long as
you say they’re in full working order, I’ll take your word for it. Besides, don’t wanna draw any attention to us, do I?’
When Peter had spent some time toying with the guns, he reached inside his pocket for the cash and handed it over to Spikey. He noticed Spikey’s shaking hand as he grabbed at it. Without waiting for Peter to lead him to the door, he left the flat. Peter followed him anyway just to make sure he’d shut the door after him. He sniggered as he peeped through the spyhole and watched Spikey rush off into the distance.
He’d known the guns would be kosher but he couldn’t resist making Spikey sweat a bit before he handed over the cash. It amused him to see Spikey twitch, and it paid to make sure he stayed in line. Peter liked to let people know who was in charge.
Once Spikey had gone, Peter concealed the guns where nobody would find them and went into the living room to make a call.
‘Hi Dave,’ he said when David answered the phone. ‘They’re here, and they’re good uns too. When you free?’
He listened to David before responding, ‘OK, sounds good. Meet me here and we’ll make the arrangements.’
When Peter put down the phone, a smile lit up his face. He’d been thinking about acquiring some guns for a while. A knife wasn’t enough anymore and he’d had his fill of have-a-go heroes thinking they could take him on. One guy had even kicked the knife out of his hand, leaving him with no choice but to abandon the job. These guns would change everything. Nobody pissed you about when you had a gun. And, apart from letting the targets know who was boss, word would soon get out around the criminal fraternity. Peter Robinson was moving up a league. He and David now had guns, and they weren’t afraid to use them.
*
Adele was regretting her decision to have Sunday dinner with her mother again, but she’d been at a loose end. She was already feeling down since her split with John a few days previously, but the atmosphere inside her mother’s home only made matters worse. The stale aroma hit her as soon as she walked in. She followed her mother into the kitchen where she was busy sorting the washing.
Adele felt a pang of irritation as she looked at the washing stacked around the room. It was everywhere. Piles on chairs, some on the sideboard and dirty washing in two heaps on the floor. She was disconcerted to see that her mother hadn’t started the dinner yet and instinctively knew what was required of her.
‘Come on, let’s get these sorted,’ she said, lifting a pile of dry, clean washing off the chair nearest to her. ‘Then I’ll help you start the dinner.’
‘It’s OK, love,’ said Shirley. ‘I’ll sort these; I know where I’m up to with them. But you wouldn’t be a love and start the veg for me, would you?’
Adele sighed heavily and moved over to the sink where she filled the bowl with water and threw the vegetables into it ready to wash and cut them.
‘You don’t seem so bright,’ said Shirley after several seconds.
Adele sighed again, ‘I’ve split up with John,’ she said.
‘Oh you haven’t, love? What happened?’
‘He’s left me to go and work in London.’ She didn’t mention how she’d lashed out at him. Her mother didn’t need to know that.
‘Didn’t he ask you to go with him?’ her mother asked.
‘Yeah, but I couldn’t go, and he wouldn’t stay here. So that’s that.’
‘Oh, I am sorry, love. I’ll make you a cuppa when I’ve finished sorting these,’ said Shirley. She didn’t ask why Adele couldn’t go to London. It was as though she already knew the answer.
Adele grunted in response and continued preparing the veg. She could feel herself becoming annoyed at her mother’s lack of apparent interest. The offer of a cup of tea had irritated her even more. As if that could put everything right. What she really needed was reassurance; someone to tell her everything would be OK. But she knew she wouldn’t get that from her mother.
Normally Adele would have made some excuse and left. But her mother had invited her for dinner and she hadn’t even started making it yet. Adele bit back her irritation; there was no point taking things out on her mother.
While they worked, Adele listened to her mother’s dull chatter. She couldn’t have been less interested in the lives of Shirley’s neighbours and their relatives. Adele wasn’t attached to any of them. But she nodded and made affirmative sounds in response to her mother’s gossip while her mind drifted. She became lost in thoughts of her broken relationship with John.
‘It’s such a shame; she was only fifty-four,’ Shirley continued. ‘I don’t know what her poor son’s going to do. Do you think I should go and offer to help him?’
‘Hmm,’ Adele replied when her mother paused.
‘What should I offer to do?’ she asked.
When there was a pause in conversation, Adele looked at her mother’s expectant face. ‘Eh?’ she asked.
‘Oh, Adele. You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said, have you?’
Adele’s eyelids flickered. ‘Sorry, Mam,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind.’
‘Aw come on, love,’ said Shirley, hugging her awkwardly from behind. ‘I’ll make you that cup of tea and we’ll have a sit-down. Don’t worry about the veg; we can finish it later.’
But Adele didn’t want to prolong her stay. ‘It’s OK, Mam. I’ve nearly finished. Just give me a few more minutes then the dinner can be cooking while we’re having a drink. What time’s my dad home?’ she asked.
‘Oh, you know him. He’ll be home when he’s home. It’s OK; I can warm his dinner up for him.’
But Shirley didn’t need to warm Tommy’s tea. He walked in the house just as they were serving it onto plates then joined them at the table.
Adele had to listen to her mother’s gossip all over again while she filled Tommy in on the latest happenings. He didn’t even grace her with a nod or a mutter. He just continued eating.
The only time he responded to Shirley’s gossip was when she added her latest instalment. ‘Our Adele’s finished with John,’ she announced in a matter-of-fact way.
Tommy paused and looked across the table at Adele. She glanced away, not wishing to share her bad news with him.
He sniffed, raising his right nostril till his mouth formed a sneer. ‘Ah well, you’re better off shut of him,’ he said. ‘He was a bit of a snob if you ask me.’
‘I didn’t ask you!’ Adele snapped. She could see her mother tense as she awaited Tommy’s reaction.
‘All right!’ he hit back. ‘Calm yourself down. There’s no need to take it out on us, for Christ’s sake! I was only saying.’
‘Well, I don’t need your opinions,’ said Adele.
‘What the bloody hell does it matter? You’re not with him now anyway.’
Shirley quickly cut in before the row escalated. ‘I don’t think your dad means any harm, Adele love.’
Adele looked at her mother’s pleading eyes and restrained herself. Now that she no longer lived under her parents’ roof, Adele didn’t fear her father as much. But her concern was for her mother. She knew that if she let the row escalate, her mother would bear the brunt of it once she had gone.
They ate the rest of the meal in silence; the tension in the air was almost palpable. Adele was glad when the meal was over so she could make her excuses and go. Back to her lonely home. She only hoped her father wouldn’t take his bad mood out on her mother once she had gone.
Chapter 38
By the time she arrived inside her own house, Adele was feeling even more down than before she had set off for her mother’s. The silence felt oppressive. It was accompanied by an absence of feeling, which was emphasised by the sound of her footsteps echoing in the tiled hallway. There was no John to embrace her or make her pulse quicken. No messy male clutter to niggle her as she walked through the lounge. No coffee aroma to greet her. Instead there was nothing, and the rooms felt bare.
She looked around at the pristine furniture, ornaments and furnishings. They were nothing without the warmth of her lover
. She’d give anything to see John’s mess scattered around the place now. He had been so right for her, and she couldn’t help but feel bitterness towards her family. If only she didn’t feel responsible for them then she would have gladly gone to London with him. That was where she belonged, with John; not here by herself. But she couldn’t change anything. She knew how much her mother needed her and, even though it grated on her, she felt responsible for her.
She felt OK while she was at work. Adele poured herself into the job, working much harder than usual, so that she could take her mind off things. She also had her bookkeeping exams to study for, which gave her something to focus on. But it was in the late evenings when she was at home that she felt the worst; there were just too many reminders of her absent ex-boyfriend.
Adele settled onto her cosy couch to watch some TV but nothing held her interest. She felt lonely. In the fridge a bottle of wine beckoned to her. She tried to resist but eventually gave in. It was the fourth time she’d drunk alone this week. As she sipped the glass of chilled white wine, she promised herself that she wouldn’t let this become a habit. Thoughts of her father’s bad relationship with alcohol were all too clear in her mind.
After two glasses she was becoming mellow and able to focus more on the television but as she neared the bottom of the bottle her sombre mood returned. She switched the TV off and played some ballads instead; sad songs which conveyed how she was feeling. She cried at the poignant words then muttered drunkenly in agreement with the sentiments.
When her tears had dried, she decided she needed someone to talk to. Someone who would empathise with her situation. Someone who understood her. And someone whose focus could help ease the pain. She ran through a list of people in her alcohol-fuddled brain. Who could she talk to?
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