Tainted Lives

by Mandasue Heller

  May tutted when her brother came into the living room with a tart. What was he playing at? He knew she didn’t like strangers in her gaff. He’d best not have told the bitch what he was here for, that was all!

  Plucking a cigarette from an open pack on the table, she lit it and squinted up at Sarah through a thick haze of smoke. She looked like one of the hookers her brother ferried about. The lecherous swine was probably after a freebie.

  ‘Before you go getting your knickers in a twist,’ Coxy said. ‘Sarah’s a friend. And she’s all right, so stop giving her the evil eye . . . Unless you’d rather I got off? I could always come back when you’re in a better mood.’

  Grudgingly, May nodded hello. She supposed she could put up with the tart for a couple of minutes if kicking her out meant delaying things.

  Sarah smiled nervously, then jumped when something tugged on the back of her dress.

  ‘Get out of it, Leroy!’ May leaned forward and swiped at her son, smacking his cheek. ‘Keep your hands to yourself, you messy little get! Sorry about that, love,’ she said to Sarah then. ‘He ain’t messed you up, has he?’

  Twisting to look down at herself, Sarah saw that she had escaped lightly. The now-crying child had melted chocolate all over its face, but he’d managed not to share it with her. She shook her head, guilty for having got him into trouble.

  Rolling his eyes in shame, Coxy told May to get her arse in gear. He had better things to do than stand here all night.

  Sarah stayed by the door when they disappeared into the kitchen, nervously eyeing the children who were watching her from various positions around the room. They were like extras in a Gothic horror film: filthy – and none too pleasant on the nose.

  ‘Who’re you?’ one of the girls demanded, her voice containing the same hardness as her mother’s. A battler in the making.

  ‘Sarah. Who are you?’

  ‘Tara,’ the girl said, sniffing repeatedly as she looked Sarah up and down.

  ‘Got a cold?’

  ‘Piss off!’

  ‘Charming,’ Sarah muttered.

  ‘Maaaam!’ Tara yelled, shoving one of her little brothers roughly away as he hurled himself at her in defence of the pretty lady. ‘This bitch just told me to fuck off!’

  Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but there was no need because Tara immediately lost interest when the doorbell rang. Launching herself across the room, she shoved past Sarah and went to answer the door.

  ‘Took your bleeding time, didn’t you?’ A loud female voice rang through the hall. ‘It’s freezing out there.’

  The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Sarah couldn’t put her finger on where she’d heard it before. Seconds later, she gasped out loud when Claire Wilson walked into the room.

  ‘Claire! What are you doing here?’

  Claire gave her a suspicious glare, then grinned as recognition sank in, revealing a gap where one of her front teeth had been knocked out. ‘Sarah Mullen. Well, well!’

  ‘D’y’ know her?’ Tara stood between them with her arms folded. ‘Where from? What’s she doing here?’

  ‘Piss off, you,’ Claire barked. ‘Don’t bother talking to me when you kept me in the cold. Make yourself useful for a change and get the keckle on.’

  ‘Do it yourself,’ Tara muttered, retreating to a chair in the corner. ‘I ain’t your slave.’

  ‘Where’s your mam?’ Claire asked, throwing herself down onto the couch.

  ‘Wiv Uncle Gaz in the kitchen,’ one of the boys told her.

  ‘Nice one,’ Claire said, taking a cigarette from the pack on the table.

  ‘They’re me mam’s,’ the boy complained. ‘She’ll punch your lights out for nickin’ one.’

  ‘An’ I’ll punch yours out if you don’t shut your grassing gob,’ Claire said, sitting back heavily.

  Looking down at her, Sarah realized that Claire was pregnant – again. Standing, with her baggy jumper concealing her belly, she looked as stick-thin, dirty and unhealthy as May and her brood. But when she was sitting, you could see that her stomach was definitely swollen.

  ‘So, what have you been up to?’ Claire looked Sarah up and down with undisguised envy. ‘You look good, I’ll give you that. The grafting must be paying.’

  Sarah frowned. Had everyone known about that? ‘I don’t do that any more,’ she said.

  Smirking disbelievingly, Claire flicked her ash onto her knee and rubbed it in. ‘Still at Starshite?’

  Perching gingerly on the arm of the couch, Sarah shook her head. ‘I left a while back. But never mind me, what happened to you? No one heard a word after you took off.’

  ‘Was they worried?’

  ‘Yeah! Dandi was going off her nut. She saw on the news about the police finding a baby in a bin bag and she well thought it was yours. She felt dead guilty for ages.’

  ‘Good!’ Claire snarled, her face darkening. ‘I wouldn’t have lost it if she hadn’t tried to send me away.’

  Sarah stared back at her open-mouthed. It hadn’t crossed her mind that it might have actually been Claire’s baby.

  ‘God, Claire, that’s awful,’ she said. ‘What happened?’

  Before Claire had a chance to answer, May came out of the kitchen. Seeing them chatting, she narrowed her eyes. ‘You two know each other, or summat?’

  ‘I asked ’em that,’ Tara said snidely. ‘But Claire told me to fuck off.’

  ‘Why you still here, then?’ May snapped, jerking a thumb towards the door. ‘Go on – do one, the lot of you!’

  ‘Mam and Claire’s havin’ a fix,’ little Leroy piped up – screaming when he received a sharp kick in the back from Tara.

  ‘Ready?’ Coxy asked, anxious to get Sarah out before she heard too much.

  ‘Er, yeah, sure.’ She stood up. ‘Nice seeing you again, Claire. Hope everything goes all right with this one.’ She nodded at the other girl’s stomach.

  Shrugging, Claire said, ‘Yeah, whatever. See you later.’

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Coxy apologized as they went back to the car. ‘I take it you knew her?’

  ‘Claire?’ Sarah murmured, deep in thought. ‘Yeah. I’ve not seen her for ages, though. I thought she was dead, to tell the truth.’

  ‘She goes the right way about it,’ he muttered, opening the car door for her. ‘Sorry, I know I shouldn’t say that seeing as you know her, but she’s pure trouble, her. Our May should kick her skanky arse back where it came from, but she’s too soft.’

  In the dark at the back of the car, Sarah raised an eyebrow. From what she’d seen, May Cox was anything but soft. And she was just as skanky as Claire – if not more so. Her house was a mess, and her kids had foul mouths.

  She contemplated giving Dandi a ring to let her know that Claire was all right, but decided against it. It would only stir up trouble – and Claire looked more than capable of doing that all by herself. Anyway, Sarah had enough shit of her own to deal with – like sorting Harry out.

  ‘You’re looking nice tonight,’ Coxy interrupted her thoughts. ‘Got something special planned?’

  Smiling as she remembered why she’d made such an effort, Sarah said, ‘No, nothing special. Bernie likes us to look decent, that’s all.’

  Glancing at her in the rear-view, Coxy smiled when he saw the sparkle in her eyes. So, she was into the boss, was she? Well, he couldn’t say he was surprised. A lot of the girls held a candle for Bernie Silva. He had money and a flash motor – a regular gold-digger’s dream. Not that he would have classed Sarah as one of them. From what he’d seen of her so far, she was a nice girl. A little naive, maybe, but nice, all the same.

  Far too nice for the likes of Claire. He wondered what the story was there, but he didn’t ask. It was none of his business. He was just surprised that Sarah knew the scummy bitch.

  And the same went for his sister. It gave him ulcers thinking about the dregs she mixed with. In fact, that was the reason he’d taken to scoring gear for her in the first place – to keep her away from
the Billy Normans and Makka Caines of the world. If she insisted on sticking needles into her veins, at least she wouldn’t have to touch the poisonous shite that Billy put out.

  If he’d known that his sister cut what he gave her and sold it on, using the money to keep herself supplied with Billy’s cheaper shit, he’d have killed her with his bare hands.

  ‘Here you are.’ Coxy pulled up outside Silva’s with minutes to spare. ‘Sorry for dragging you into all that. Hope I haven’t put a downer on your night.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Sarah told him, smiling as she climbed out. ‘At least I know Claire’s alive. It makes you wonder when someone just disappears like that. Anyway, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Looking forward to it.’ He smiled shyly. ‘Hurry up, I’ll watch you in.’

  16

  Pete was sound asleep by nine – just as Vinnie had planned. Pete couldn’t stay awake for more than five minutes in the dark and once asleep nothing roused him. All Vinnie had to do to guarantee a few hours’ peace was get into bed and insist on having the light off. It never failed.

  And tonight, it was especially important to have his roommate out of commission. If he was going to see Sarah, the last thing he needed was Pete tagging along. Alone, he’d be out and back in again before anyone realized.

  Fully clothed beneath the covers, Vinnie waited for Dandi to complete her rounds. At nine-fifteen she paused outside their room for a few seconds, then continued on her way, reassured by Pete’s heavy snoring.

  Getting up when he heard her footsteps receding along the landing, Vinnie crept to the window and eased it up. Dandi always looked in on the girls first. She would go downstairs to lock up when she’d finished checking the boys, which meant that he had approximately five minutes before she activated the alarm. If he didn’t make it out before that, he was stuck.

  Holding a cassette case between his teeth, he cocked his leg over the sill and felt around with his foot for the drainpipe to the left of his window. Manoeuvring his body out, he wedged the window open with the case and climbed down the pipe. Then, staying well out of range of the security light, he darted across to the fence and hauled himself over and out.

  Running the two miles into Moss Side, Vinnie had to stop for a breather when he reached the run-down estate. The house he wanted, according to Harry, was in the middle of a row of six parallel to the imposing side wall of Java-Java – the old cinema-turned-club-turned-local exhibition centre.

  It was dark down there, the dim street lamp bent from years of joyriders using it as a brake. Narrowing his eyes, he peered all around before venturing in. He knew these estates. The residents prided themselves on turning them into no-go areas, viewing strangers and the police with equal hostility. You had to keep your wits about you in places like this – or suffer the consequences.

  A man was squatting beside the burned-out shell of a car, removing salvageable bits. He whipped his head around at the sound of glass crunching underfoot. Seeing Vinnie, he eyed him with suspicion. Nodding to show he wasn’t about to interfere, Vinnie walked on.

  Finding the house he wanted, he glanced around to make sure he wasn’t being watched, then stepped over the low back wall and ducked into the shadows of a doorless garden shed.

  There were several full, rancid-smelling bin bags spilling out of it, and more piled beside the gate. A mangled pram frame lay upended on the scrubby patch of grass, and a pair of child-size roller skates sat on the back step beside a heap of empty, unwashed milk bottles. On the washing line, a small jumper hanging by a single peg flapped listlessly in the breeze.

  Vinnie wasn’t impressed. If Sarah was here, then she obviously wasn’t alone. But had she moved in with some man to play mummy to his kid, or was she lodging with a family? Either way, he would have to suss the situation out before he made any sort of move. The last thing he needed was some jealous boyfriend or irate landlord bringing the pigs down on his head.

  He had the don’t-give-a-shit attitude down to a fine art when it came to fronting for the kids at the home, but he rarely stepped out of line when it really counted. He didn’t want to go to a lock-down facility. He wasn’t completely stupid. There was far more to be gained by being seen to toe the official line – freedom, for example. And you didn’t have to be a wuss to stay out of trouble, you just had to keep your head down and not get caught.

  He had managed so far. He just hoped he didn’t blow it now.

  Creeping stealthily towards the house, Vinnie squatted low and inched his way along the wall until he was directly beneath the window. Holding on to the ledge with his fingertips, he raised his head until his eyes were level with the gap at the bottom of the curtains.

  The room was bare but for bits of rubbish scattered about the floor. There wasn’t so much as a stick of furniture.

  Getting up, he went to the next window and, using his hands to shield his eyes, peered in through a hanging scrap of net curtain. This was the kitchen, but, apart from a sink unit that was half-ripped from its holdings, it too was bare.

  The house was empty, and obviously had been for some time. Harry Shaw had lied.

  Starlight was in darkness when Vinnie got back. Climbing the fence, he ran commando-style across the lawn, zigzagging all the way to avoid the security light.

  Shinning easily up the drainpipe, he cursed under his breath when he found the window shut. The cassette case was gone. Either Pete had removed it, or it had dropped. Whatever – he was stuck. Raising the window would trigger the alarm. But so what? He’d be safely in bed by the time the staff got moving.

  Digging his fingers in beneath the window, Vinnie slid it up – and was already dragging himself in when the alarm went off. Within seconds, lights were going on all over the house as Mark ran downstairs to check for burglars, and Dandi and Gloria began checking on the kids.

  Vinnie was in bed snoring when the door opened and the light came on.

  ‘Whazzup?’ he mumbled, squinting at Dandi as if she had woken him.

  ‘Go back to sleep,’ she whispered, flicking the light off again. ‘The alarm’s been triggered, that’s all. Nothing to worry about. We’ll sort it out.’

  Smiling to himself as Dandi pulled the door shut, Vinnie reached for Pete’s cigarettes. It was too easy.

  ‘Dandi!’ Gloria called in a loud whisper from Ollie and Harry’s bedroom doorway down the corridor. ‘You’d best take a look at this.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Dandi rushed to her.

  Stepping aside, Gloria pointed to Harry’s bed. ‘I’d bet my life that’s a pillow.’

  Roused by their voices, Ollie said, ‘What’s going on? Why’s the alarm going off? Is there a fire?’

  Ignoring him, Dandi marched across the room and snatched Harry’s quilt back. As Gloria had suspected, there was nothing beneath but a pillow.

  ‘Oh, no,’ she murmured, her heart sinking into her stomach. ‘What’s he done?’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Sitting up now, Ollie rubbed at his eyes.

  Turning to him, Dandi said, ‘Did you see him leave?’

  ‘Harry?’ Ollie sounded as surprised as he actually was. ‘I thought he was asleep.’

  Dandi looked at Gloria. Gloria shrugged. ‘I thought he was ill.’

  ‘So did I,’ Dandi murmured. ‘He must have sneaked out after we locked up.’

  ‘He couldn’t have,’ Ollie said. ‘I only went to sleep a bit ago and he never moved.’

  ‘Want me to call the police?’ Gloria asked.

  ‘No, I’ll do it,’ Dandi said, leaving the room. ‘But let’s finish checking the house first. Something triggered the alarm. My bet is he was hiding somewhere, waiting till he thought everyone was asleep. He’s probably still around.’

  After a fruitless search of the house and gardens, she gave up and phoned the police.

  In the office, fifteen minutes later, Tony West smiled as he accepted a steaming cup of tea from Dandi. It was just what he needed after four freezing hours in the squad car
– having the knackers bored off him by his new partner, Bill Vine.

  Vine was a pussyfooting fool. Too respectful for his own good, always trying to find the virtue in people that West wouldn’t piss on if they combusted under his nose. But now that Kay Porter had succumbed to the temptation of promotion to CID in Crewe, he was stuck with him.

  He hadn’t thought much of Kay to start with, but she’d proved herself more than capable and, once they’d got each other’s measure, they’d made a fair old team – in more ways than one. West didn’t blame her for moving on, but he missed her, and Vine was no substitute. Still, time would tell, he supposed. He’d give it six months. If they hadn’t come to some sort of understanding in that time, they never would.

  Sipping his brew now, he listened as Vine went through the routine questions.

  ‘How old is Harry?’

  ‘Just turned eleven,’ Dandi told him.

  ‘Red hair, approximately four-ten, and skinny?’

  ‘That’s right. I have his school picture, if you’d like to see it. It’s very recent. Just two weeks old, in fact.’

  Taking a small photograph from Harry’s file, she handed it across. Vine looked at it, taking in the mournful emptiness of the eyes. This was not a happy child.

  ‘Can we take this?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  Vine handed the photo to West. Looking at it, West immediately felt sorry for the kid, wondering what kind of hell it must be to go through life with a face like that.

  ‘You say he was in a spot of bother this morning?’ Vine went on.

  Clasping her hands together, Dandi murmured, ‘Yes. We had to ask him about a series of mishaps that have been occurring.’

  West suppressed a desire to snort out loud. She didn’t half waffle on. But did she always speak like this, or was she putting on the airs for their benefit?

  ‘Mishaps?’ Vine smiled questioningly. ‘Could you elaborate?’

  Dandi flicked a glance at Mark. He gave a slight shrug. Neither of them had wanted to turn Harry’s recent behaviour into a criminal matter, but the police needed to know what was going on in order to find him as quickly as possible.