by Jacqui Rose
He held onto his leg crying out, ‘Fuck … fuck … me fucking toe.’
The nurse, unmoved by the display in front of her, gazed in contempt at Alfie. ‘You should get that looked at; you could’ve broken it, but then that’s what you get for kicking chairs that are fixed to the floor. It’s also one of the reasons why we did it, because of people like you.’
Alfie gazed up at the woman with fury in his eyes. ‘This is funny to you?’
‘No, not at all. In fact, far from it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have patients who I need to see to, and as I said before you broke your own toe, there’s no news. Casey is still in surgery, as she has been for the past two hours.’
Alfie was about to pursue his gripe with the nurse but he heard a familiar voice behind him. One he could do without hearing.
‘What the fucking hell are you doing here? You’re not wanted. Go on; go.’
Alfie turned around, unable to completely ignore the throbbing in his toe. ‘When you run the hospital, or even have a say about my life, Lola, you can tell me what to do. Until then, and I’m going to try and put this as politely as I can … Do one. Fucking do one, so help me God I’ll …’
‘You’ll what, Alfie?’
‘Yes, I’d be interested in hearing what you’ll do too, Mr Jennings.’
Two voices were heard behind him. Alfie swivelled round to see Franny, who was in the process of turning round herself to see who’d spoken.
‘Hello Mr Jennings, good to make your acquaintance, I’ve heard a lot about you. The name’s Detective Spencer, I’m Detective Teddy Davies’s replacement. You remember him don’t you?’
Alfie didn’t say anything but oh yes, he remembered Detective Davies alright. Who couldn’t? The man had been as bent as a U-bend and as full of shit as one. Davies had been in Del Williams’ pocket for quite some time before things had turned nasty between the two of them.
Detective Spencer turned his supercilious attention to Franny. He smiled unconvincingly, though it was hidden under his greying moustache.
‘Ms Doyle, isn’t it? I think we’ve met before.’
Franny snapped at Spencer, giving him a cold stare. ‘Yes I know, when you arrested my father on a false allegation, wasn’t it?’
The detective sneered. ‘I like to call it unproved; false is rather a strong word, don’t you think?’
‘I don’t think anything about you, Detective Spencer, now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve come to see my friend.’
‘Not so fast, Ms Doyle, I need a word, but before I do the faces just keep popping up from the past. Lola? Lola Harding.’ The detective paused to roar with feigned laughter. ‘Who’d have thought hey? Who’d have thought you’d still be alive and kicking?’
Lola shook her head. ‘You’re scum, Spencer, always have been, always will. You make Davies look like Snow White.’
Spencer turned back to Franny. ‘Perhaps we can go somewhere quieter?’
‘I’ve got nothing to say to you.’
‘That’s where we differ in opinion. Shall we?’ Spencer gestured to the visitors’ room.
‘Is this official, detective?’
‘No, just routine enquiries.’
‘Well in that case, I’ll tell you again, I’ve got nothing to say and anything you’ve got to say, you can say it here, in front of everyone.’
Infuriated and determined to push on with his questioning, Spencer glared at Franny, hissing his words. ‘Ms Doyle, where were you when Casey Edwards was shot?’
Franny turned away, refusing to look in Alfie’s direction. ‘Detective, I’ve already …’
‘We’ve charged Vaughn Sadler with attempted murder. And depending on if Ms Edwards gets through the night, it well may be murder.’
Franny, Alfie and Lola all baulked but it was Alfie who spoke. ‘You’re taking the piss. You lot are taking the fucking piss. He would never hurt Casey; he loved her.’
Spencer’s voice was sarcastic. ‘Well I’d hate to see what he did when he didn’t want to hurt her.’
Franny interrupted. ‘Where are you keeping him? Who’s representing him?’
Detective Spencer looked at his watch. ‘All in good time, Ms Doyle, I’ve got an appointment with a Big Mac. I’ll be back on duty in an hour, we can talk then.’
Ten minutes after Detective Spencer had gone in search of his midnight McDonald’s, Franny, Lola and Alfie sat outside the ICU department, having been informed that Casey had come out of surgery.
‘Happy now? Are you happy now?’ Lola’s voice was loud and full of passion and for a minute, Franny thought she’d have to tell her to keep it down, but it soon dropped to a hoarse whisper. ‘Look what you lot have done.’
Alfie, not in the mood for anyone, and needing time to think, growled at Lola. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about you. You, Frankie, Del and even Vaughn. All the lot of you. You were supposed to come and help Soho, not bring chaos on it. I loved you Alfie, Franny loved you; we all did but you screwed us all over by getting involved with the casinos when you knew better. We’ve given you chance after chance and we did it because we cared. We hoped that one day, you’d sort yourself out and show us it was worth sticking by you, but instead you went on your own selfish path, and now look. Casey’s life is hanging in the balance, the others have upped sticks and gone, and the triads are breathing on our necks like a teenager in the back row of the movies … Even your niece, Chloe-Jo …’
‘Jane. Chloe-Jane.’
‘Jane, Jo, you know what I mean, Alfie, don’t be smart. Even Chloe-Jane got caught up in all of this.’
At the mention of Chloe-Jane’s name, Alfie rolled his eyes. Franny tried to push the guilt she’d been feeling for the past couple of hours away.
‘They’ve all gone. All of them, and now it’s only us. How the hell are we supposed to keep the triads at bay?’
Alfie said nothing, he felt ashamed. Not that shame would help anyone, all it did was allow him to feel sorry for himself.
‘Alfie, I’m talking to you.’ Lola angrily pushed on.
‘I know and I’m listening but what the fuck do you want me to do?’
Franny whipped round. ‘Perhaps do something that you haven’t done before; be a man. A real man.’
Alfie looked bemused; of all the things she could accuse him of, not being a man wasn’t one of them.
Reading his thoughts, Franny continued. ‘Oh please, don’t look like that, Alfie. Anyone can walk around banging their chest and threatening people with a gun, but the mark of a real man isn’t what they do when all is well, it’s what they do when things get tough. It’s then you see the true colours of a person.’
‘Fran, listen; I feel me balls are being squeezed and I don’t know which way to turn for trailing crap with me. I’m sorry, okay. I know that’s not what you want to hear but I am, let me explain why I did it.’
Franny shook her head, sadness filling up her eyes. ‘There you go again, Alf, making this about you and singularly you. Don’t you see, I don’t care why you did it, or why you felt the need to lie to me when you knew perfectly well lying would break us. You and I are over. Get that into your head, because all that energy you’re wasting on trying to figure out how you can come up with an excuse about why you did this or that could be better used to figure out what we’re going to do.’
‘Fran, look, you and me, well we …’
‘Stop! Alfie, stop! There you go again; you’re trying to talk about us. Us is no longer. If you want to do something for me, do this; pull your self-pitying, self-indulgent head out of your bullshitting ass and help us find a solution for Soho, Casey and Vaughn.’
Like a man on a self-destruct mission, Alfie opened his mouth and let his hurt show in his words. ‘Vaughn … Oh I see, that’s how it is. You and Vaughn. When did it start, Franny?’
‘Excuse me?’
Franny couldn’t believe what she was hearing and even though Lola didn’t want anything to do wit
h Alfie at the moment, she couldn’t help but stand behind Franny, signalling him to keep his mouth shut. But to no avail.
‘Don’t give me the wide-eyed innocence, Fran, it all makes sense now. You and Vaughn. That’s why Casey had gone back on the treacle ain’t it?… What’s the matter, Fran, hit on the truth have I? And there’s you talking about telling the truth.’
Franny stood with her mouth open, and although Alfie suddenly felt what he was saying was something he shouldn’t, he carried on regardless. ‘You see, sadly for you, Franny, I spoke to Casey and she couldn’t look me in the eye when I asked her what was going on. I can see now the girl was covering you; poor cow, for what? So she can be laying in intensive care tubed-up to the nines.’
The fury and volume of Franny’s voice surprised everyone in the waiting room. ‘How dare you! How dare you insinuate I’d do something only a lowdown dog such as yourself would do? I don’t know why Casey didn’t come and tell me she was struggling, but whatever the reason, it isn’t because I was boning Vaughn. You don’t get it, do you? It was you, Alfie, you I loved. I was happy with you, all I wanted was to be with you and all I asked for was the truth. Is that so hard, is it? No, don’t answer that because whatever comes out will be a lie, and I don’t want to hear any more lies. Now get out, go. ’Cos I never want to see you again. Never. Go to the Costa like the others, go to Essex, go to the moon and back for all I care, but don’t come near me again.’
And like his niece, Chloe-Jane had seen just hours before, Alfie saw the look in Franny’s eyes that told him she was serious. It was over. It was pointless saying another word.
Turning round without a goodbye, Alfie Jennings walked out of the ICU, determined never to talk to Franny again.
Lola put her hand on Franny’s arm, she smiled. ‘So that leaves you and me then.’
Franny nodded. ‘Then you and me is what it’ll take.’
27
Chloe-Jane hugged her knees tightly as she hid behind two stinking bins in the alley behind Oxford Street. She sat shivering on the hard concrete surrounded by the overflow of the rubbish as the rain drenched through her clothes, dripping down her back and soaking into the top of her pants.
She raised her head up to the night sky, feeling the drops of rain sting against her face. The smell of the bins was making her feel sick but she was too frightened to come out of her hiding place, at least until morning.
The streets at night were unsafe; they were dangerous. She had learnt that the hard way. The last time she’d slept rough, she’d been jumped on, and if it hadn’t been for the passer-by she would’ve been raped, or worse. She’d been lucky that night; she’d come away with only a loose back tooth caused by the man’s fist smashing into her face.
The stranger who’d helped her had taken Chloe-Jane back to his bedsit, but instead of giving her a safe, warm haven for the night, he’d locked her in, calling her names and insisting on her giving him oral sex.
She hadn’t thought she’d be back on the streets, or rather she’d hoped she wouldn’t. She’d really believed that somehow, somewhere there’d be a life she could carve out for herself. And if there was a place where she’d thought that was possible, it had been Soho, with her Uncle Alfie. But it’d all gone so wrong. So horribly wrong. Chloe-Jane put her head in her hands and began to sob again.
It was so cold. Her hands were part-way between numb and freezing. She didn’t think she could make it through the night feeling this way. She had to do something. The idea of waiting there for God knows what to happen to her in the shadow of the night had her pulling out her phone.
Her hands shook; freezing fingers dialling the number. As soon as it was answered, Chloe-Jane started talking.
‘Uncle Alfie … No please, don’t put down the phone. Please, listen to me … I’m sorry.’
‘What the fuck do you want?’
‘Can … Can I come and stay with you?’
‘Tell me … Tell me you ain’t being serious, Chloe?’
‘I ain’t got anywhere else to go.’
‘And you thought you’d call me because …’
‘… Because I need you.’
Alfie had had enough of women. Every bird he’d ever come across; every encounter with them, it’d always led to this. Ear ache. Grief, and ultimately a fucking great big guilt trip. But he wasn’t going to accept it, no way was he was going to accept responsibility for this.
To Alfie, this was all Chloe-Jane’s fault. If it hadn’t been for her turning up and stirring things, then opening up her mouth, he and Franny would still be together.
‘Do me a favour Chloe, you really are taking the piss. How you have the gall to call me or are you coming back for second bites? What is it that you’re going to destroy this time, hey babe? My house, my money, my daughter, me? Oh no, you already did that. Come on Chloe, do your worst. Come on, put the bullet in … What?… Got nothing to say?’
Chloe-Jane didn’t have anything to say, because she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. The loathing she heard in Alfie’s voice cut her deeply. Broke her heart. He had been her last chance. Quietly and without any fuss, Chloe-Jane locked off the phone, putting her head back in her hands once more.
‘What have we here then?’ The cold water being sprayed onto Chloe-Jane had her scrambling up from her concrete bed. She spluttered, gasped and coughed and for a moment she didn’t know where she was.
‘Get up you lazy tramp!… Come on, move it.’ The road cleaner shouted angrily at Chloe.
‘Sorry … Sorry, I’m going.’ Chloe tried to gather her things; her bag and the jacket and jeans she’d used as a pillow stuffed into her arms.
‘Too late darlin’.’ Nastily the man cackled as he held the cold water spray, dousing her down in cruel pleasure.
‘Please stop it … Please stop it.’
The sweeper, now joined by his colleagues, continued to taunt Chloe.
‘I’ve always loved a wet t-shirt competition! Take some of that dirt off her! Tramp! Tramp!… Come on love give us a smile … What’s the matter you fleabitten bitch, I thought you’d be pleased to get a shower!’
‘You bastards! Leave her alone!’ A loud voice was heard and the men turned around to see a woman swinging a broomstick.
‘What the fuck …’ The men shouted and ducked all in the same moment as the first blow to the head with the broom handle landed clean on the tallest of the road sweepers’ head.
‘You crazy bitch!’
‘Oh you haven’t seen anything yet! Now get out of here, before I really lose it.’
With the men gone, Chloe-Jane looked up at the woman who had helped her. ‘Thank you … Thank you.’
‘Listen, why don’t I rustle up a nice bit of bacon and eggs for you, and perhaps if you’re lucky a piece of my special fried bread; can’t beat a bit of fat to block up the arteries in the morning … Come on Chloe-Jo, you’ll be alright.’
Chloe-Jane looked at Lola, seeing not the old woman she’d seen before, but a woman whose eyes said she’d seen many things but had come out the other side carrying warmth and love with her.
‘Jane. It’s Chloe-Jane.’
Lola frowned looking puzzled. ‘Alfie said it was Jo; Chloe-Jo, I’m sure he did, yes I can hear it now, Chloe-Jo.’
With a big effort, Lola helped Chloe off the ground, pulling her up. ‘Bleedin’ roll on, I ain’t what I used to be. Me back’s knackered, still it could be worse, I could’ve lost me looks.’ Lola cackled, showing off her almost-toothless grin. She smiled at Chloe, but it was tinged with sadness. ‘Chloe-Jo, I’m sorry what happened with Alfie and Fran.’
Chloe shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about it. I brought it on myself.’
Lola grabbed Chloe by the shoulders. She shook her. ‘Don’t you say that! Don’t you ever say that! I never want to hear that out of your mouth again. It wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. You got caught up in the middle of something you didn’t understand. I love them both but they had no place letting you get i
nvolved. You’re just a kid, and I know what it’s like to be out on your own on the streets. I know what it’s like to have no one.’
Chloe-Jane sobbed her heart out and as she did, Lola pulled her into her. ‘Now come on, dry them tears. Like I said, I’m going to take you to mine and get you something to eat. You can get yourself washed, dried and cleaned up. We’ll get you back to looking like a princess again. And it won’t be a problem for you to stay the night. Just one, like.’
Chloe-Jane almost knocked Lola over in her excitement. ‘You mean it? I can really stay?’
Lola laughed. ‘Of course I mean it. But listen, I can’t tell Franny. I don’t think it’ll go down well with her at the moment.’
Chloe’s face dropped. ‘You mean you’re going to lie to her.’
Lola looked hurt. ‘Ain’t nobody said anything about lying. No … No, I’m not going to lie to her, I’m just not going to tell her the truth, which isn’t quite the same, is it?’
As Chloe-Jane walked down the street, wondering quite why Lola was armed with a broomstick at all, she knew Franny wouldn’t see it like that. No, she wouldn’t see it like that at all.
28
‘Another piece?’ Lola held a burnt piece of fried bread over Chloe-Jane’s plate. She was happy to see the girl eating. She could never understand the girls of today who thought there was something sexy about making themselves look undernourished and hollow-eyed. When she had been Chloe’s age, it’d been all about the curves, now it was all about the scrag and bones.
‘Thanks, Lola but I’ve got to go and meet someone; chance of a job.’
Lola sat down next to Chloe, picking at the rind of her bacon. ‘Yeah, what’s this all about; you kept this quiet.’
Chloe-Jane smiled; she’d had a long bubble bath, complete with candles. She’d washed and dried her hair and Lola had let her wear a pair of True Religion jeans and a black fitted Gucci shirt she’d found amongst the pile of stolen clothes Lola had apparently got from some of the girls who worked in the sauna in Brewer Street.