Human Conditioning

by Hirst, Louise

  Bernard’s lips twitched into a discreet smile, but the ‘other one’ remained straight-lipped and sergeant-like. “Just sign the damn papers, Mrs Foster…” he said, impatient now, sick of Bernard’s poncing about.

  Lily pointed a stiff, manicured finger at him. “If you call me Mrs Foster just one more time…!” The ‘sergeant’ didn’t bat an eyelid, but Bernard blinked hard, obviously affected by her rage. “I want to speak to Aiden… get him on the phone… now! The phone’s over there,” she instructed Bernard, out of the blue.

  He hesitated then hastily stepped over to the phone. He lifted the receiver and dialled a number that Lily did not know. She hadn’t once spoken to Aiden via phone or face to face, either at Parkhurst, Wakefield or Maidstone, and the thought of hearing his voice again after all these years made her sick to the stomach.

  As Bernard spoke quietly into the phone, Lily went to the fridge to pour herself another large wine. A few minutes later, Bernard was holding the phone receiver out to her. She took a sip of her drink and gulped hard. As she walked to the phone, her legs turned to the consistency of jelly and the effect of the wine made her face flush crimson. She took the receiver.

  “Hello?”

  When Lily heard Aiden’s deep, gruff voice, she felt all her blood drain from her body. Her throat constricted, and her mouth ran dry. All the feelings she had suppressed over the past ten years came flooding back to her all at once: all the nights she had cried herself to sleep after his arrest, all the times she had been on the verge of visiting him, just to see his face, and the pain and hollowness of her life without him.

  When Aiden had been all over the news, she had switched off the television. She didn’t buy a newspaper for over four years following his arrest, and whilst the subsequent investigations into his whole criminal life had been carried out then publicised for all and sundry to sink their teeth into and weave their webs of lies and gossip around, she had locked herself away in the house they had once shared. For months Aiden had been front-page news, and she had had to endure the Press sitting outside.

  She had tried so very hard to wipe him from her mind and, as the years went by, she had done well at doing so, her child being the only constant reminder of his existence. Hearing his voice now affected her more than she would have ever allowed herself to believe, but as she had learned to do a long while ago she forced all romantic notions of her husband to the far corners of her tired mind and reminded herself that he was a criminal – a ruthless, vile criminal.

  “Hello, Aiden.”

  “Lily…? Fuck, it’s good to hear your voice. It’s been too long…”

  “Why have you sent an armed man to the house when your daughter is in the next room?”

  There was a spell of silence, then he replied, “You wouldn’t listen… you’ve never come to see me.”

  “So he’s here to kill me? Beat me into submission? Is that how you deal with people who don’t do as you ask?” she scoffed. “Oh, silly me, of course it is…”

  “You sound different.”

  “I am different. You made sure of that.”

  She heard Aiden sniff and clear his throat. “Just sign the fucking papers, Lily, and I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Really… you’ll be happy just being married to me, without any access to me or your daughter when they finally let you out?” There was prolonged silence. “Yeah, just as I thought… you have no interest in setting me free, Aiden.”

  “Mr Foster, you’re being requested.”

  Lily heard a distant voice over the line. “Lily, I have to go. Stop pursuing this… if I don’t have you, I’ve got no one,” he announced with earnest and his honesty shocked Lily into silence.

  She closed her eyes to prevent her tears, and with one final ounce of courage, she replied, “That’s not my problem anymore.” She tailed off and waited with bated breath for some kind of reaction, some onslaught, but only a deadly silence came over the line. She continued, her voice quavering and choking her, “You had everything… and you chose to throw it all away. Now, you may as well kill me, Aiden, because I’m not signing some dodgy fucking document that will keep me married to you, which I can only imagine was written up by some bent fucking barrister you have at your disposal. I will keep sending you divorce papers until the day you choose to end my life. And when that day comes, I’ll welcome it, Aiden, because then I’ll finally be rid of you!”

  For a long, tense moment, Lily could only hear Aiden’s quickened breath on the other end of the line. She sensed, as acutely as if he were standing before her, that he was using all his will to rein in his temper, and she held a breath, awaiting his assault, but there was a click and the line went dead.

  ************

  Aiden held the phone receiver down, gripping it as if it were his life line. Hearing his wife’s voice again was music to his ears, but he didn’t like her talking to him that way. She had changed. She sounded harder and he didn’t like it. No more was she the sweet, happy and innocent Lily he had once known.

  He understood that he had been the driving force of his wife’s transformation. She had never forgiven him for the things he’d done. And a part of him didn’t blame her for that. She had never struggled for anything in her young life. She had never understood his determination to be someone, to be respected, to be feared. All he knew was fear, and to make anything of yourself in his world, you had to be feared, had to be dominant. You had to be the alpha. If you weren’t, you were used by those stronger than you or you were cast out completely and left to rot.

  Being locked up in a room for twelve hours a day gave you plenty of time to reflect on your life. You were able to analyse everything with far more clarity, without the distractions of life outside.

  Aiden had come to accept that his father had been his ultimate nemesis. He hadn’t wanted to believe that something as common as having a shit father could affect him the way it did. It was no psychologist’s wet dream to hear how a father’s lack of care could destroy his son. It was so ‘typical’ that it had been a bitter pill to swallow for him to admit that he’d been affected like any other man.

  Above all, he hadn’t ever wanted to turn out like Duggie. His father had been a moderate success for a large proportion of his young life, but he’d fucked it all up through pride, greed and selfishness. Aiden had wanted more than his father had ever had. He’d wanted to live a millionaire’s lifestyle. He’d wanted to own people and be respected, and through his determination, driven by the resentment of his father’s failures, he had achieved his ambition, and more.

  Nevertheless, he had to admit that, as much as he’d succeeded, he’d also allowed history to repeat itself. He had come to realise, after years of contemplation, that he had more of his father in him than he’d ever allowed himself to admit, and it was their mutual quality of arrogance, greediness and selfishness that had led him to an extended life sentence. However much he understood this now, he just couldn’t stop himself from mirroring the man who had shaped his life. The words human conditioning came back to mind as he approached the cell where Dmitry Kovalenko resided, and he couldn’t prevent the shrewd smile that crept on his lips.

  Dmitry had been sent down for fifteen years two years ago. He had been introduced to Aiden at the request of Kamal, and had become one of Aiden’s channels to the outside world. Dmitry worked predominantly for the KKKs, but he also made contact with many of Aiden’s associates. It was a business arrangement that Aiden chose to conceal from Kamal. To Aiden, Dmitry was merely a messenger. To Kamal, however, he was a mole.

  “What’s so amusing?” Dmitry asked as Aiden stepped into the small cell, somewhat distracted. Dmitry was sat in his usual chair in the corner of the cell, facing the door, reading the football scores in the newspaper. There was a plastic chair in the aisle between the two bunk beds on either side of the cell.

  “Just having a revelation,” Aiden replied thoughtfully. Dmitry’s eyebrows rose and he set his paper down. “I spoke to me wife j
ust now,” Aiden added.

  Dmitry grinned. “Oh yeah? How did that go?”

  Aiden frowned and he pursed his lips. “Not good. It’s not nice realising someone you trust and love has given up on you.”

  Dmitry stared at Aiden. It was the first time he’d ever heard the man speak so openly, and his words generated a sudden guilty feeling in his stomach, but he forced it out of his mind. “Aiden, we need to talk.”

  Dmitry gestured to the plastic chair facing him. Aiden sensed Dmitry’s anxiety and was suddenly all ears. Taking a seat, he crossed his arms across his chest and rested his right ankle over his left knee. “What’s up?” he asked sincerely. Then he heard the slam of the cell door and footsteps behind him, and it took a delirious moment for him to realise that he was bleeding from the neck. He tried to gasp for breath, but he was rapidly suffocating.

  The gargling sound coming from Aiden was loud in the small cell. Dmitry stepped back, watching him intently as he fell to his knees in front of him, gripping his throat, fighting for breath. Dmitry tore his eyes away and stared wide-eyed at Jimmy Hicks and Richie O’Donoghue. Richie was wiping a bloodied knife with a cloth.

  When it finally registered in Aiden’s mind that he had been set up, he flipped onto his back and took in the two large men standing by the door – his attackers. He wanted so much to jump to his feet and beat the living shit out of them, but he couldn’t muster the strength to rise.

  “What now?” Dmitry asked urgently.

  Richie replied, “I’ll call me uncle, tell him the job’s done.”

  These were the last words Aiden heard before he lost consciousness and his heart beat its last.

  Epilogue

  “Mummy, Daddy’s on television.”

  Lily turned from the sink, where she was washing the crystal bowls she and Amy had used for ice cream after dinner. Lily had promised her ice cream after the scene at the graveyard that morning. Amy stood, all prettiness, at the kitchen door with a grin on her face. It was all very amusing seeing her father on the television.

  Presenting a weak smile, Lily wiped her delicate hands on a tea towel, and flicking her silky blonde hair over her shoulder, she followed her daughter into their lounge. She did not question Amy’s announcement. Aiden had been on the news more often than she could recall, and all she wondered was: ‘what the hell had he done this time?’ And since she had laid down the law over the phone earlier, she feared the worst. Her rebuff would have sent him way over the edge of his already limited temper.

  Walking into the lounge, she briefly glanced at her LCD flat-screen television, which was displaying various images of her husband, before making her way over to her expensive cream leather sofa.

  As always, a sinking feeling presented itself in the pit of her stomach at the very sight of Aiden’s handsome face. Ten years in prison had not affected his appearance one little bit. In fact, he looked all the more healthy. She wondered if it was because he wasn’t running himself ragged going from one place to the next for business. Plus she was certain he would spend hours in the gym each day to keep his body and mind active.

  She perched on the edge of the sofa. Amy sat beside her and handed her the TV remote. Lily wondered if she should ask her daughter to leave, but she decided against it. She took in a deep breath and turned the volume up on the television. Aiden’s photograph finally disappeared, and a live recording of the outside of Maidstone Prison played out before them both.

  The newsreader resumed her narrative, ‘…Aiden Foster was arrested on multiple charges and jailed in Her Majesty’s Parkhurst prison in October 1991. He will be remembered as one of the most industrious criminals of the past decade, having led multiple unlawful operations across London, with charges found against him for the attacks and often murders of those proven to be associated with him…’

  Lily hit ‘mute’ on the remote and turned to Amy. “Time for bed, darling… it’s late.”

  Amy looked up at her, her deep blue eyes wide with curiosity and disappointment. “What has Daddy done?”

  “Nothing, darling,” Lily lied, pulling her daughter into a cuddle. “People just like to tell stories… nothing to worry about.”

  Amy looked up at her, beseeching her. “But…”

  “Bed now, please,” Lily replied sternly. It was the tone in her mother’s voice that prevented Amy from arguing and, like the drama queen she was, she pouted, crossed her arms and left the room. Lily watched her leave, stomping like a brat, and didn’t have to wonder where she got her temper from.

  Lily didn’t have to un-mute the television to discover the reason for the news story. A red bulletin appeared at the bottom of the screen with the words ‘EAST END CRIMINAL MIND OF THE DECADE FOUND DEAD IN PRISON’. Lily quickly switched on Teletext and found the news item. Her mind whirling, she scanned the words on the screen: ‘One of London’s most industrious criminals of the past decade has been found dead at Her Majesty’s Prison Maidstone. Aiden Foster, aged 32, was pronounced dead at the scene with a single stab wound to his neck. An extensive investigation has begun today to uncover the motive of this vicious attack. Interestingly, his murder comes just two weeks after the recording of an interview in which Mr Foster spoke of his active role in various criminal activities was aired on the BBC.’

  Lily switched off the television, but remained staring at the blank screen for several seconds. Aiden was dead. She couldn’t believe it. She stood and left the room. She walked into the kitchen, walked back out, returned to the lounge, then walked back out again. On impulse, she located the phone in the hallway and took it off the hook. She couldn’t bear a hysterical conversation with Vivien or Kate right now. She hadn’t spoken to them often over the past ten years, but they all still kept in touch for Amy’s sake. She knew they would eventually call her, after they had called each other.

  Lily put a hand over her mouth. Suddenly she felt weak. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her blood had flushed out of her entire body. She managed to take the stairs, and flying into her bedroom, she closed the door then ran across to the ensuite, went inside and closed that door too.

  She wailed a deep, painful wail that came from deep within the pit of her stomach. Slumping to the floor, she leant her head against the door, her hand clasped tightly over her mouth to muffle the sound of her distress. She did not want to disturb Amy. She couldn’t deal with being a mother right now.

  All of a sudden she was Lily Summers again – the sweet, innocent girl who had fancied the pants off a boy she had first seen at school, coming out of the classroom opposite her form room. She could suddenly feel all those feelings she had experienced that day, could see Aiden’s scruffy hair and piercing blue eyes in her mind’s eye as acutely as if the scene was playing out in front of her now. For a moment, the memory of his swagger and the way he smiled at her calmed her cries and brought a shaky smile to her lips. Aiden had told her many moons ago that he had fallen in love with her at that very moment, and her heart swelled at the thought that he had always loved her, despite everything. Yet as her mind began to run the events of their dysfunctional relationship thereafter, the time she spent in the dark about his second life and as reality set in, the pain and sadness returned and she was once more lost to tears.

  She had lost him all over again and this time it was forever. The thought left her entirely empty, though she didn’t know why. For the past ten years she had been trying to cut the bond between them and be free from him. She hated him. He was a selfish man, a cruel and ruthless man. He had just today brought an armed enforcer to force her to submit to his demands. He hadn’t changed a bit since their last encounter all those years ago.

  Nevertheless, to this day, a little voice inside reminded her that he had loved her, that with her he had not been uncaring nor had he been unkind. His heart had been hers, it had always been hers, and though it was a despicable notion, this knowledge gave her comfort.

  What would happen now? What would happen to the house, the cars, the money �
� all in Aiden’s name? She did not know. She would either be kicked out onto the street or she would be even richer than she was already. But she couldn’t think of that now. She would find out soon enough, when Aiden’s bent lawyer came knocking.

  She stood and stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. What had she been doing the past decade? It seemed as if her entire attention had been on trying to divorce Aiden. Even behind bars, he had managed to consume her and prevent her from getting on with her life.

  She swallowed hard. It wasn’t him, it was you, her subconscious sneered. And it was true, though it was a bitter pill to swallow. She had given up on everything and everyone the day Aiden had been imprisoned. She had locked herself away in the same house he had bought for her. She had slept in the very bed that they had shared. She had lived off his money and had not bothered to go out and make a life of her own. She had even cut herself off from the chance of meeting someone else. She had claimed that things were complicated, using Aiden’s reluctance to divorce her as some kind of excuse not to allow anyone else near her heart. This realisation sickened her the most, because she suddenly understood why she had done all of those things: she hadn’t been able to let Aiden go. After everything he had done, she hadn’t attempted to start a new life because a new life would mean Aiden wasn’t a part of it. She admitted to herself there and then that every time Aiden had refused to divorce her, it had given her a sense of security, as if every refusal reaffirmed the fact that she was his and he was hers.

  “Urgh!”

  She had to turn away from her reflection. She couldn’t bear to look at herself anymore. She was a traitor to her own hatred of the man. Oh, she hated him alright – hated him for lying to her, hated him for what he had done to Gina. Nonetheless, that self-conscious little girl was still rattling around inside of her; that little girl that had so longed for Aiden’s attention.