Behind a Closed Door (The Estate, Book 2)

by Mel Sherratt

  ‘Jesus, you idiot!’ Josie pressed her hand to her chest. ‘You nearly gave me a heart attack.’

  In two more strides, Stewart stood in front of her. ‘What the fuck is this?’ He held up the letter.

  Josie took another step towards the door while she gained her composure. ‘If you’re referring to the amount,’ she said, ‘it’s all I’m prepared to offer.’

  ‘Ten grand? It’s not enough.’ Stewart’s fists clenched and unclenched. ‘Five fucking years I stayed with you. I want half of everything.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she told him. ‘You may have contributed a little but the house was mine to begin with.’

  ‘I want my half!’

  ‘You’re not entitled to half.’

  ‘I’m going to sue you for every penny.’

  ‘Fine, you’ll have to find the money to fight me for it. I am not giving you half of what my parents worked for because you happened to see another opportunity to exploit me.’

  Stewart’s chin nearly hit the tarmac. ‘I never exploited you,’ he said.

  ‘You never loved me, either,’ Josie muttered. An uneasy silence descended between them. ‘Did you?’

  Stewart slowly shook his head from side to side. ‘Do you think I’d love someone like you?’ He picked up a mound of Josie’s hair, and then let it go. ‘Your hair’s like straw.’ He stepped back and looked at her from top to toe. ‘Your body’s like a twelve-year-old and your sense of style – well, let’s say you haven’t got one. Face it, Josie, you’re a dowdy bitch.’

  Josie faltered. It was all right for her to think these things, know these things, but never, ever, had Stewart voiced his abhorrence. What made it worse was the fact that she thought she’d dressed accordingly for a night out. She wore faded jeans, black shoes with a small block heel and a plain red t-shirt. Her hair, although she had tried to do something with it, hung loose and forlorn. She’d attempted to wear make-up, but knew she didn’t have the know-how to make a good job.

  ‘Well,’ she spoke shakily in her defence, ‘you haven’t got that much to offer yourself. Look at you.’

  Josie knew she’d lost the fight even as she pointed at him. Stewart had obviously been spending some of his money because he was wearing jeans she hadn’t seen before, his shoes were the most wanted brand of many a teenager and his T-shirt bore the name of a well-known designer. Even his hair had been cut recently.

  ‘Yes, look at me,’ Stewart smirked. ‘You thought I’d shrivel up and die but I’m doing all right without you.’ In one quick movement, he screwed up the letter and threw it at her feet. ‘So, there’s no way I’m leaving you alone until I get what I deserve. Got that?’

  Josie’s tears fell as soon as she closed the front door behind her. Her breath coming in huge gulps, she ran into the living room and flung herself onto the settee. What had she done to deserve this treatment? All she’d ever wanted was to be loved and to give that love back in return. Even her huge heart couldn’t bat away Stewart’s insults – and because she knew he was right, they hurt all the more.

  She knew she was a mess. Meeting up with Livvy again had made her more aware of that. And if Livvy wasn’t enough, there was always Kelly to look at: Kelly with her stylish hair, her curvy figure and her youthful complexion. Josie had never looked that good, no matter what her age – and at thirty-seven she was never going to.

  On a whim, she decided to ring Livvy.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she sobbed. ‘I know it’s late but I needed to talk to someone.’

  ‘What’s the matter, hun?

  At the sound of Livvy’s comforting tone, Josie started to cry again. It was some time before she’d calmed down long enough to explain what had happened.

  ‘He’s trying to wind you up,’ Livvy comforted. ‘You shouldn’t take him so seriously.’

  Josie sniffed. ‘So you think I look okay, then? My hair looks wonderful and shiny? My clothes don’t hang off my body? I never wear make-up for fear of looking like Coco the Clown.’

  Livvy pooh-poohed her thoughts. ‘You have so much else, though. Number one, you have a fantastic way with people. Number two, you have a heart – that’s always a good thing. Number three, you have personality. You’ve a knack for making me feel happier since we got back in touch, which leads me to number four: you are a caring person.’

  Josie smiled at Livvy’s efforts to cheer her up. It didn’t alter the fact that she had scarecrow hair, but what the heck.

  ‘And number five, you have me. I can give you a makeover, if you like?’

  Josie paused for a moment. ‘Would you?’ she sniffed.

  ‘You should try a new hairstyle. I think a little shorter would suit you, perhaps stopping at your shoulders, and a fringe, maybe? And you need to make the most of your figure. So what if you’re only five-foot and a fag end? That’s what heels are for. You need to buy the highest pair you can find and totter around indoors until you feel comfortable in them. Believe me, there is nothing that can give you more of a confidence boost than a pair of ‘fuck-off’ heels. And I have plenty of tops and shirts that will fit you.’ She laughed a little. ‘I won’t be able to help you in the trouser department, unless I can find some cropped ones. I have boxes of spare make-up, too. Luckily you’re dark, like me. Well, you will be once you’ve visited my hair stylist.’

  Josie’s eyes filled with tears again. Livvy had changed into her fairy godmother.

  ‘You need to stick up for yourself, show that useless bastard what you’re made of.’

  Josie nodded, even though Livvy couldn’t see her. ‘He caught me off guard, that’s all. He’s never been so… so personal.’

  ‘He’s beginning to realise that little old Josie is stronger than he thought she’d be. You’ll be fine. Did you think any more about selling the house?’

  ‘I did look into it but I’m not sure it would stop him, if I’m honest.’

  ‘It would mean closure though if you did move. He wouldn’t know where you were.’

  ‘He’d find me.’ Josie recalled how she had seen Charlotte after Nathan had attacked her; he’d found her easily enough. And it wouldn’t be hard to follow her to somewhere else once she dropped her guard. Still, the idea to sell the house was one that she’d been thinking about.

  ‘Supposing I did put it up for sale, what if it takes a long time to sell?’

  ‘I don’t think it will. It’s in a good area and you have it lovely inside. Do you think he means what he says when he wants half of everything?’

  Josie wiped away the tears that had escaped. ‘No, I think once he sees a cheque, he’ll take it and run. He won’t want to wait around. He’ll want to find another pathetic woman to look after his welfare.’

  ‘Hey, less of the ‘pathetic woman’,’ Livvy cautioned. ‘You’re a survivor. Don’t let the likes of him get you down. I’m surprised you’ve stuck with him for so long, though. You’re far too good for him.’

  Left with her thoughts as they hung up, Josie remembered saying something similar to Kelly last week. She wondered if she was feeling any better yet. Although she’d probably made it unbearable the other day by provoking Scott, Josie genuinely hadn’t thought of the consequences. She hoped that Kelly was okay and made a mental note to text her later that night.

  Kelly was okay. As Josie predicted, she’d thought of nothing else but setting up her own business – so much so that it was heading for three thirty in the morning and she was tackling the ironing. Not bothering to toss and turn like she’d done for the past two nights, she’d decided to do something productive to take her mind off things. As she plodded through Emily’s vast pile of T-shirts, trousers and skirts, she ran through the things she could do and the things that were stopping her.

  Her own business: it sounded so cool. She’d have to design a logo to display on paperwork and business cards. She’d have to practice speaking on the phone in a professional manner. She’d have to send out invoices for the work she’d carried out and, hopefully, cash
up the huge amounts of money that she’d earn every week.

  She could take minutes at meetings. Later, if she continued to go to night classes, she could provide a book-keeping service; do weekly, monthly accounts. She could offer a complete business service for the small business entrepreneur. ‘You do the hard work: I’ll do the sums.’ Eventually she could take on her own staff and loan them out to work in the other units. They could provide a portable office service by saving everything on a laptop. The options were endless.

  Suddenly, she lay down the iron and reached for last week’s copy of Heat magazine. She tore a scrap off it and wrote on it. OFFICE OPTIONS – that could be the name of her business. Her stomach flipped over and she sat down on the settee with a thump.

  But then the problems started to break through her optimism. Who would look after Emily during the day if she was working now that she couldn’t trust Scott? Kelly wouldn’t take liberties with her mum and even though Dot and Emily were firm friends, it was hardly fair to put on the elderly woman’s good nature. An odd hour here and there to keep Dot company was one thing, but anything else would be taking advantage.

  But Emily was due to start school in September. If everything was up and running with the units by July as planned, Emily’s child minding would only be a problem for a few weeks at the most. She could always set her up in the centre with a colouring book. Emily would love that.

  No, the biggest hurdle to overcome would be Scott. Kelly sighed. She could almost hear his mocking laughter, his look of disdain, if she as much as mentioned that the thought had even crossed her mind. He’d be convinced that she was the one to have gone mad.

  But surely she could dream? Why couldn’t he be more sympathetic towards her feelings? Since their argument last week, he’d hardly looked after Emily while she was at work anyway, but as soon as she’d got back he’d had his coat on in minutes and was out of the door. Hard habits died slowly, she surmised. Had she really let him go out this much before he’d gone to prison? Had it taken a spell inside for her to realise that she didn’t like what he did, but was used to it regardless? From the moment he’d returned, all she’d wanted him to do was stay in with her and watch a DVD; share a bottle of wine and a pizza; laugh with her at some stupid sitcom.

  No, no, no. Kelly shook her head to rid it of the thought that had suddenly wedged itself there, but it stayed lodged firmly in place. It wasn’t Scott that she wanted to do these things with – it was Jay.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Despite her nocturnal ironing session, Kelly was still up early the next morning. While Emily was messing around in the bath, surprisingly Scott was up too.

  ‘Don’t forget I’m doing that job today.’ He slurped up the leftover milk from his cornflakes. ‘You’ll have to stay in this morning. Jay’s calling round for some gear.’

  Kelly picked up Emily’s pyjama top that she’d left on the settee before snapping at him. ‘What gear?’

  Scott sighed dramatically. ‘Chill out, woman, it’s only some tins of paint I got from Fosters. I had a job lot for fifty quid, sold it on for a ton.’

  Kelly eyed him in disbelief. ‘You sold it on to Jay and charged him more?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. Jay’s just dropping it off for me.’ Scott dived into Emily’s bedroom. Moments later, he came out tucking something into the pockets of his jeans.

  ‘But I’ve got to go to the shops this morning!’ Kelly added.

  ‘He isn’t coming ‘til eleven. You’ll be back by then, surely?’

  Before Kelly could complain any more, Scott had gone.

  As she checked her diary ready for her next appointment, Josie noticed a familiar car parked at the bottom of Clarence Avenue. She shook her head in frustration and sighed loudly. Her first call that morning had been to Martin Smith, one of the troublemakers on the estate who hated any type of authority and had a mouth like a sewer. He always made out that she was scum. His wife was no better and ever since the couple had accused Josie of being rude and abusive towards them, she’d long ago stopped going on her own. Yesterday, she’d asked Doug if he’d come with her, but he was going to the dentist first thing so wouldn’t be around. So when Ray had come in this morning, she’d asked him to go with her, but he’d told her that he was too busy.

  ‘But you know how he was with me last time,’ Josie had protested as he sat down with his coffee. ‘I’ll make it quick, fifteen at the most. I need to sort out an alleged complaint that his youngest son’s getting involved in the vandalism at the health centre.’

  Ray shook his head. ‘No can do. My diary’s full this morning and I’m working at the bottom of the estate for most of it.’

  ‘Ah, come on Ray. I’m not asking you to do a thousand miles, turn round for half an hour and do a thousand miles again,’ Josie persisted. ‘I just need you first thing, then you can shoot off.’

  But Ray wasn’t having any of it. Try as she might, he wouldn’t be swayed. Hence Josie’s annoyance at seeing his car on her patch. He’d gone out of his way for something. She started her engine and moved away from the kerb.

  Ray’s car was outside Amy Cartwright’s flat. Glancing around as she drove past, Josie couldn’t spot him anywhere, so assumed he must be in someone’s home. When she rounded the bend into Penelope Drive, curiosity got the better of her. She did a quick turn around in her car.

  Something was going on: why would he be around here? Amy had been really off with Josie whenever she mentioned his name. She’d thought it was because Amy had done something wrong, but now she wondered if there was more to it. She’d always thought Ray was a creep but…

  Oh no. He couldn’t be capable of …

  Goosebumps rose all over Josie’s body. She quickly locked up her car, ran up the path and knocked on the door. Her intuition had been right as she could hear shouting from inside.

  ‘Amy?’ she cried. ‘Are you there?’

  Josie tried the door handle and, finding it unlocked, faced a dilemma. She hadn’t been invited into the property but she couldn’t stand there and let something happen to Amy. The shouting became louder and, as she recognised Ray’s voice, she knocked again, but this time she opened the door and went in.

  The commotion was coming from inside the living room but the door was shut. To her left, Amy’s bedroom door was wide open. Baby Reece was screaming but Josie couldn’t see him anywhere. Amy was sitting at the top of the bed, a blank expression on her face. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and she’d pulled her nightie over them.

  Josie’s heart went out to her. Whatever had happened, Amy was trying to blank it out of her mind.

  ‘Amy?’ she asked gently, sitting down beside her. ‘It’s Josie, sweetheart. What’s going on?’

  Amy shook her head. Josie could still hear voices from the other room. She popped her head back into the hallway but the living room door was still shut.

  ‘Who’s in there with Ray?’

  Amy shook her head again. Josie moved back to her.

  ‘Has Ray hurt you?’

  Amy’s head went from side to side and she began to cry. ‘Where’s Reece? I want Reece.’ She looked up at Josie. ‘Get me Reece.’

  Josie gulped. She couldn’t go into the living room unless she knew what she was going in to. As hard as it was, she had to question Amy to find out more.

  ‘Why is Reece in there, Amy? And why are you in here?’

  Amy’s face crumbled again. She fell into Josie’s arms as the living room door flew open.

  ‘Come here, you little bastard!’ Ray shouted. Josie moved to the doorway again, just as a young lad ran past it, but Ray was quick on his tail. He jumped on his back and they both went down onto the floor.

  ‘Ray!’ Josie shouted.

  Ray turned to her, a look of relief on his face. ‘Thank God. You have to help me out here. This bastard was –’

  ‘He’s gone mental,’ the lad shouted, turning his face towards Josie. ‘He’s a fucking nutter, get him off me.’

&nb
sp; As Amy pushed past her to go to Reece, Ray shouted again. ‘For fuck’s sake, Josie, give me a hand.’

  Josie suddenly came to her senses. Even though she hadn’t got a lot of time for Ray, intuition told her that he was trying to help. She pressed her knee into the lad’s back and grabbed his arm.

  ‘Call the police!’ said Ray. He moved out of the way as booted feet flailed around, his captive struggling and kicking in his efforts to get away.

  ‘No, don’t do that! I’ll stop. Don’t get the cops involved.’

  ‘What’s going on, Ray?’ Josie demanded. She’d recognised Sam Pearson the minute he’d turned his head. He hung around with Amy’s younger brother, Ricky.

  ‘Ray!’

  But Ray was in a different zone. ‘Lock the door,’ he ordered her.

  ‘But –’

  ‘LOCK THE FUCKING DOOR!’

  Shocked into action, Josie did as she was told.

  Ray grabbed the back of Sam’s neck. ‘Now are you going to calm down long enough to talk?’

  Sam nodded and Ray’s grip lessened. He fought to catch his breath and it was then that Josie noticed he was bleeding.

  ‘Your mouth,’ she said. ‘Are you okay?’

  Ray wiped away the blood with the sleeve of his shirt. A nudge of his knee in the side of Sam’s ribs got the lad to his feet. He pointed to the living room door.

  ‘In there, you, and this time no funny business.’

  Sam did as he was told. Amy was sitting on the settee with Reece, who now that he’d been given a teething biscuit was quietly munching away, his feet bobbing up and down as he sat with his mum.

  Amy, however, wasn’t happy. Her body stiffened as they came into the room.

  Ray pointed to the chair in the window. ‘Sit there,’ he said to Sam. ‘That way you can’t do a runner again.’

  Josie noticed bruising appearing around Sam’s right eye. For all of his big man attitude, and the large amount of meat he had on his frame, Sam was barely seventeen. The fight had gone out of him. He was like a shrinking violet.