Damaged

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Damaged Page 7

by Martina Cole


  ‘You go to the address and keep me informed.’ She turned back to face Destiny’s parents and was momentarily lost for words. But she sat them down before asking gently, ‘Do you know a Clinton Barber?’ She saw the hope in their eyes as she said, ‘It seems he’s at your daughter’s school, and she may very well be with him.’

  She decided to leave out the Bag Boys and drug-dealing part until they were sure what they were facing. Although she had an idea that these people would much rather their daughter was getting stoned round some lad’s house than experiencing what Kylie had gone through.

  And who could blame them?

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Clinton Barber had just skinned up in his bedroom; he had Bruno Mars playing on his iPhone, and he was pleasantly stoned. His older brother, Justin, was in the next room with his friends, and Clinton could hear the laughter as they watched shite on YouTube. He smiled as he lit his spliff and settled back into his bed. He was feeling good; it had been a profitable day – he had shifted a lot of puff. His dream was to get enough money to go to Jamaica and find his father, his namesake.

  At nearly sixteen, Clinton was a handsome boy of mixed race. He had coffee-coloured skin and greeny-brown eyes that were his best feature. He was tall and athletic-looking, though that wouldn’t last if he didn’t stop smoking the weed so much. His mum worked nights at the service station on the outskirts of Grantley and had long given up on trying to control her two sons. They loved her in their own way, but she was weak, and eventually they had worn her down until now they pretty much did what they wanted – though both made a point of contributing to the household. After all, they knew she wasn’t exactly rolling in it and was too proud to sign on. He admired her for that, although Justin reckoned she worked nights at the service station to get a bit of peace and quiet.

  He looked down at the girl in the bed next to him; she was snoring softly, and he smiled as he climbed under the sheets beside her. He took a long draw on his joint and held it in his lungs for a while before slowly blowing it out. He looked around his bedroom at the posters and the clothes piled everywhere and decided that he would have a dung-out the next day. It was beginning to smell, and that was something he could never stand. The weed permeated the wallpaper, and the place eventually stank; coupled with his socks and discarded clothes, it wasn’t a pleasant environment.

  He was just about to settle down and chill to some tunes when all hell broke loose. He heard the hammering on the front door and immediately jumped out of bed. He bumped into his brother on the landing and they broke up laughing as they tripped down the stairs together. Justin assumed that it was just someone looking for a quick bag of weed. But when they opened the front door and saw all the uniforms there, they knew they were fucked.

  They stalled the police as long as they could so Justin’s mates could make a quick getaway, and acted the innocents as always. Justin hoped the gang had the nous to take any gear in his bedroom with them.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Kate and Patrick were sitting together on their huge sofa discussing the night’s events.

  ‘Does it feel unreal, Pat?’

  He nodded. Now the waiting was over, the reality was beginning to sink in. ‘I feel something for him, but more for the children, if that makes sense, Kate.’

  She nodded wisely. ‘I can understand that, Pat. You thought you had lost your only child and now, all these years later, you find out you have a son. It’s bound to make you feel at odds with yourself. I know it’s thrown me.’

  He hugged her to him tightly. ‘You were a fucking diamond tonight. And what the fuck Joseph said to that Bella, God knows, but she was almost human.’

  Kate laughed. ‘Don’t forget, it’s still early days, Patrick.’

  He sighed. ‘I know, darling, but I feel so lucky. Poor old Ruby. She did a good job with that lad and she did it on her own. I feel like I should have known, though even if I had I could never have hurt Renée. Ruby understood too. I’m ashamed to admit I probably would have blanked the kid and just paid for him. But then, who knows what I would have done after Renée died. It’s all ifs and buts at the moment.’

  Kate squeezed his hand. She honestly didn’t know what to say.

  ‘You know, Kate, God can be a funny fucker. I had that fling with Ruby because I was lost. I knew my Renée would never get better, and I think I just needed to forget things for a while. Instead I just felt guiltier than ever! Then, all these years later, it turns out I gave her a child, and this is the upshot.’

  Kate smiled in the lamplight. He looked totally bemused. She felt a pang of jealousy again at his words, but she swallowed it down. She knew he would always love Renée and Mandy, and now he had a whole new set of people to love. And she must be the bigger person, the better person, if she was to keep him. But Christ Himself knew it was hard. ‘Let’s just take one day at a time, eh? The kids thoroughly enjoyed themselves in the pool the other day, and you’ll see them again soon enough – that’s a start.’

  He smiled then, a real smile. ‘You always know what to say, Kate, you always know how to make me feel better.’

  She held him to her and they were both quiet, filled with their own thoughts.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Justin Barber was shouting the odds, but no one was taking any notice of him. The police just took the two lads and forced them through to the lounge area of the small first-floor maisonette.

  Annie Carr was not in the mood for any histrionics so she shouted angrily, ‘Oh, shut the fuck up, Justin, and tell us where Destiny Wallace is.’

  DC Ali Karim came down the stairs with a young girl. She had long blond hair and smudged make-up all over her pretty face. The only thing she had on was a T-shirt that had seen better days – and was obviously Clinton’s – and she had the startled look of a doe caught in headlights. It was definitely not Destiny Wallace.

  ‘This is Michelle James. She is apparently fifteen years old and has been crashing here, as she so succinctly put it, for the last few days.’

  There was an element of defeat in his voice because, like everyone else, he had hoped to find Destiny here. DC Karim then held up a few baggies full of cannabis, and Clinton said under his breath, ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’

  Justin slapped him around the head then, saying in annoyance, ‘How many times, bro? You’re a kid. You keep your stash with me!’

  Annie admired the older brother’s loyalty but at this particular moment in time she didn’t give two fucks about the weed.

  ‘Listen, Clinton, have you seen Destiny Wallace today at any point?’

  Clinton shook his head, and Annie saw the fear come into his eyes then. ‘Why? Is she missing?’

  She nodded, saying, ‘Can you think of anything at all that might give us a clue as to where she might be?’

  ‘Honestly, lady, if I knew I would tell you – especially after what happened to Kylie. Why do you think I gave Michelle a place to crash!’

  Michelle was finally waking up now, and she said tremulously, ‘I had a row with my mum. I’ve been here three days.’

  Annie knew that this girl had not been reported missing by anyone, and she marvelled once more at some people’s idea of parenting. But she felt sick now, because time was marching on and there was no sign of Destiny Wallace. Everyone in the room was thinking the same thing: she was missing and, until they found her body, she would stay missing.

  Annie threw the baggies at the two speechless young men and said tiredly, ‘Get your act together, boys, because next time I come here it will be for a full-scale raid, OK?’

  Justin Barber couldn’t believe his luck, and he said seriously, ‘OK, but I hope you find Destiny. We both do.’

  Annie motioned for the others to follow her out as she said, ‘I believe you, son, I do.’

  Chapter Forty

  Jean Wallace had been sedated and her husband was sitting nursing a large brandy when Annie finally arrived back at their house. Desmond Wallace took on
e look at her dejected countenance and silent tears gathered in his eyes. He knew that his girl had no reason to run away, and had no reason to go off for such a long period without getting in touch.

  He had been calling her mobile phone all night only to hear the same words over and over. The number you are calling is unavailable. But he still rang it at five-minute intervals; the human spirit was remarkable and hope was a powerful emotion. But it was gone 2 a.m. now, and no one was expecting Destiny Wallace to get in touch. She was like Kylie – a good enough kid who had never once given her parents any reason to doubt her. She did what she was supposed to, attended school regularly, and always kept in touch with her family.

  Annie hated to admit it, but it looked like Destiny Wallace was not coming home in anything other than a body bag. If it was the same culprit who had taken Kylie Barlow then right at this moment she could be being tortured and in agony, and praying for death at fourteen years old.

  Annie Carr felt so helpless and so frustrated, it took all her willpower not to scream her rage at the gods. But she was a professional, so she sat beside Desmond Wallace and tried in her own way to shoulder some of his worry and pain.

  Annie squeezed his hand and, as he looked at her, the desolation in his eyes was nearly her undoing.

  Chapter Forty-one

  He looked down at the girl and smiled. As usual, the fear got him going. It was fascinating to behold such terror at close range. He laughed as he saw the girl fighting against her bonds. She knew she had no chance of breaking free, but the desire to live was strong – as he had found out with Kylie.

  It was so easy to fool people; he knew how to talk to the girls because he just told them everything they wanted to hear! Now here she was, his little show-off, Destiny, all snug as a bug in his den. And there was nothing she could do to help herself. Her eyes kept going to the small blowtorch that stood by the tiny fireplace, and he loved the way she had finally realised that she was in the same position as Kylie Barlow. Another prick-teasing little scrubber who thought she was so fucking clever.

  He kicked her viciously in the ribs. The blow was so hard she actually moved across the floor, and her muffled cries were like music to his ears. He took another Polaroid of her as she looked up at him beseechingly. All her carefully applied make-up was gone; she had cried it away earlier, when he had burned her with the cigarettes – her own cigarettes too. As if he would smoke! The taste was disgusting, and it made everything stink – even her hair stank of it. He might burn her hair off; as the thought occurred to him, he couldn’t help a chuckle escaping from his throat.

  This was so exciting for him. After dreaming about it and planning it for so long, the satisfaction of seeing all his hopes and wants come together was almost breathtaking in its intensity.

  Destiny was nearly naked now, but that was the least of her problems.

  ‘It’s nothing personal, Destiny, I want you to know that. I hate you all equally.’ His voice was low and, as the terrified girl looked into his eyes, he took another Polaroid photograph.

  Destiny Wallace wasn’t going anywhere. And, as he lit the blowtorch, he relished the fact that she was as aware of it as he was.

  Chapter Forty-two

  Joseph O’Loughlin lay beside his sleeping wife and wondered what his old mum would have made of how things were turning out. That she had wanted him to know who his father was, albeit a bit late in the day, pleased him. Luckily, things were going well so far, but it was where they went from here that worried him.

  Everyone from Grantley had heard of the infamous Ripper, but it was different knowing that his half-sister had been one of the victims. Now he had learned more about it, it made it all the more real. She had died so young and so brutally that he had felt almost tearful. This was his flesh and blood, after all; he wished he’d had the opportunity to know her. He wondered how Patrick must have felt finding out that she had been raped and murdered by a psychotic maniac. He couldn’t even imagine what it would have been like if it had been his Amanda. But Patrick Kelly had come through it, and now he seemed overjoyed to have another shot at family.

  Joseph was well aware that Bella was over the moon too now – she’d certainly changed her tune. All she saw was the money, the lifestyle, the cars, houses and everything else. When she was told about the villa in Spain and the condominium in Florida, she had nearly had an orgasm as she pictured herself there with the children. It left a bitter taste in his mouth because Joseph didn’t want anything from the man – not materially anyway; he had always worked for what he had. He suspected that Patrick would be as open-handed as possible, if he asked – which he wouldn’t. It went against the grain to take anything off a man who had not even known he existed, but then he had never taken anything off anyone in his life.

  He had obviously inherited the work ethic from both his parents, because his mother had worked all her life to see him do well. He still missed her so much. So did the children – even Bella claimed to, but mainly because she had been a free babysitter! He closed his eyes tightly as he thought about his mum. She had been such a big part of his life, and now she was gone he felt bereft. And Bella was never going to be enough for him – he had known that for the last few years.

  Now he had a father at least – but he also had a mistress and he was in love with her. He had two children he adored and he didn’t want to upset their lives in any way, but he wasn’t sure he could live a lie for much longer. It was as if, when his mum had gone, he had become anchorless. She had known about his girlfriend and, although she had never said much, he knew that she understood why he needed that warmth.

  Ruby had found out by accident and she had just shrugged, saying in her usual no-nonsense way, ‘It’s your life, son, but madam won’t be so understanding, and she has a vicious streak. So you be careful what you wish for.’ Then she had never mentioned it again.

  Tonight, seeing Kate and Patrick so at ease together, he had known that he would never find that peace with Bella. She wasn’t built for passion, and she didn’t understand that life meant more than status and possessions. She had a jealous streak but, worse than that, Bella – who, in fairness, was a wonderful mother – was cold in so many ways. After the birth of Amanda she had made it clear in no uncertain terms that she wanted no more children and that, as she had basically done her job providing him with a son and daughter, she expected to be left in what she termed ‘peace’. This was from the woman who, when they were first together, had been like a sex maniac! He realised now that it had been a front to snare him.

  Bella saw sex as a weapon; he was lucky if she allowed it on his birthday, and ‘allowed it’ was exactly how it felt. He was a virile man who needed not just sex but the closeness and intimacy of shared love and the feel of a warm body in his arms. It was all a fucking mess. As much as he cared for Bella, and he did care – she was, after all, the mother of his children – it was Christine who he felt at peace with. Christine who made him feel that the days were worth living.

  In her arms he felt a contentment that he had never experienced before, and it was heady stuff. She responded to his touch, and he could feel her need of him. They talked for hours, and they laughed. Oh, how he had missed laughing with someone who shared the same sense of humour, who could articulate what they were feeling, who wasn’t afraid to show tenderness and love. She had never asked him to leave his wife – she had understood from the beginning that wouldn’t be an option – but now he wanted out of his marriage so badly he wondered if he was losing his mind.

  Christine filled his thoughts. She was everything he had ever wanted in a woman; fortunately she was quite happy to play second fiddle to Bella, and that had been fine at first. But now, eighteen months on, it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to wake up with her, eat breakfast with her, he wanted to come home to her. He would look forward to coming home to her. Now he looked forward to seeing his kids, but not his wife.

  Bella couldn’t help how she was. It had become clear several years
into their marriage, after Amanda was born, that he had not married the woman he thought he had. Bella’s whole life was lived for show. She had to have the best car, the best house, the most well-behaved children. She really couldn’t see that was why she couldn’t make or keep friends, because she was constantly living a lie. She didn’t enjoy others’ success, and she couldn’t ever let anyone get close enough to her because she was always frightened they would find her wanting. So she lived in a small vacuum of simply her home, her husband and her kids.

  Well, that might be enough for her, but it wasn’t enough for him. Tonight he had witnessed love as it should be – a couple perfectly at ease with each other – and it had made him question his own life more than ever before. Until finding out about Patrick, he had resigned himself to this loveless marriage and his wonderful children. But, as much as he adored his children, he knew now that they weren’t enough to keep him in this house with a wife who showed what she thought was affection but not love. It really wasn’t just about sex – though he was honest enough to admit it was a big part of it.

  Seeing Patrick and Kate together, he had felt a pang of jealousy. Not of them, but because he knew that would never be him and Bella. And the thought of spending the rest of his life pretending had appalled him, because he needed more than Bella would ever be able to give to him. He needed love in all its forms, both emotional and physical – just like his mother had. He needed to feel closeness to another human being. Christine Murray gave that to him in spades, and he knew that he couldn’t live without it. Not any longer.

  It occurred to him suddenly that he had already made the decision. And, as guilty as he felt, he also felt a deep sense of relief. Because now he knew what he had to do, he could plan accordingly.

 

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