by Hugh Fraser
There’s a loud knocking at the door. Everyone goes quiet. Claire’s pointing down into the street. I go and look through the window and there’s a police car parked. There’s more knocking and I open the door and there’s a tall man with a thin face in a grey raincoat and a trilby hat with two uniformed bobbies standing behind him.
‘Rina Walker?’
‘Yeah,’ I say.
‘Detective Inspector Davis. You’re coming with me.’
‘Can I get my coat?’
He nods, comes into the room and has a look round. Sammy’s nipped into the bedroom and shut the door. Claire and Lizzie are looking scared.
Maureen stands up from the table and says, ‘What’s this about? Where are you taking her?’
‘Notting Hill Police Station. She’s wanted for questioning.’
‘She’s just buried her brother.’
‘I can’t help that,’ says Davis.
‘How long am I going to be?’ I say.
‘That depends on you.’
I take my coat off the back of Maureen’s chair. ‘It’s all right,’ I whisper to her.
The copper walks over, takes my arm and says, ‘Come on, you.’
I throw a look at Claire as I go through the door and she mouths something that I can’t make out. I walk past the copper and down the stairs. The policemen follow me. One of them goes past me on the front steps and opens the door of the police car. Davis gets in the front and I go in the back with a copper on each side of me. One of them tries to look down my tits but I pull my coat round me and he looks out of the window instead. We get to the police station and I’m taken to the front desk. A red-faced copper standing behind it swings this big book round towards me.
‘Can you write, miss?’ he says.
The other plods chuckle. I look round for Davis, but he’s not there. The comedian hands me a biro and says, ‘Put a cross on there, love.’
I sign my name in the book, then I’m taken along a corridor, down some stairs to the basement and past the cells. I’ve been here before with Mum. We came to see Dad once when I was little. There’s snoring coming from one of the cells. Dave’s sitting on a bunk in another one. He comes to the bars as I walk past. They put me in a room at the end of the corridor. It’s bare except for a table and four chairs.
One of them says, ‘Wait in here. He’ll be along.’
He shuts the door. I sit on one of the chairs and run my hand along the metal edge of the table.
The door opens and Davis comes in carrying some papers. He’s wearing a grey suit and a striped tie. He looks about forty. He’s got a hooked nose and a thin moustache underneath it. His face is lined and his hair’s receding and going grey. He pulls a chair out, sits opposite me and puts a photograph of Dave on the table.
‘Can’t you do better than that for a boyfriend, nice looking girl like you?’ he says.
I smile at him and say, ‘You should see him dance.’
‘On the end of a rope, if you’ve got any sense.’ He leans forward over the table. ‘Accessory to murder. I’ll put you down for ten fucking years. By the time those old girls in Holloway have finished with you, your cunt’ll be stretched wide enough to park a lorry in it.’
He sits back and shuffles through his papers until he finds a blank one. He takes a pen out of his top pocket, unscrews the cap and writes something on the top of the paper. He sits back in his chair.
‘Unless,’ he says, ‘you give me a statement that you saw him shoot Nick Bailey.’
‘I didn’t.’
‘I don’t give a fuck if you didn’t. I’ve got a witness who’s placed you with Dave Preston out the back of an all-night drinker in Walmer Road, where he shot Bailey.’
‘We was never there.’
‘Well, I know you were, and I know I’ll get him for it. All you’ve got to worry about is whether you go down with him or not.’
‘Get stuffed!’
He reaches across the table and slaps me. I hit the floor and scream then I grab the table and shove it into him. He falls backwards onto the floor and I jump on him and punch him in the face. The door opens and two policemen run in. They grab me off him, throw me onto a chair and handcuff me behind my back. They go to help Davis up, but he shrugs them off and gets to his feet. One of the coppers is smirking as he picks up the papers and the table and chairs. Davis looks at them.
‘Out,’ he says.
They go out and shut the door. Davis sits down opposite me and rubs his cheek.
‘Harry Walker’s girl,’ he says. I nod.
He chuckles and says, ‘A chip off the old block.’
I think about my Dad and what a good laugh he could be when he wasn’t angry about something. Then I think of poor little Jack and I hate this grey streak of piss in front of me. I want to kill the bastard. I twist my wrists around against the sharp metal handcuffs until I get the pain.
Davis folds his arms on the table and leans forward. ‘Do you really want to go your dad’s way?’
I want to gouge those grey eyes out but I say, ‘Of course I don’t.’
‘Handsome girl like you, you could do something with your life.’
‘I know and I’m going to.’
Just as soon as I’ve stuffed that metal chair up your arse.
‘Just make a statement that you saw Preston shoot Bailey behind a club in Bramley Road last Friday night and then stand up in court and tell the jury.’
‘But you see, Mr Davis, that would be lying because I never saw him shoot anybody.’
‘Now, Rina …’
‘We were dancing in the Malibu club on Friday night and then he came back to ours and stayed.’
He sits back and gives me a thin smile. He knows I’m in it now because I’ve supported the alibi that Dave’s given him and if he can break that he’s got the both of us. He reaches for the paper and picks up his pen.
‘You’re prepared to make a statement to that effect?’ I nod and he unscrews the cap of his pen.
‘Name?’
‘Katherine Walker.’
He asks me where I was on the night I killed Nick Bailey and I give him the story about being with Dave at the Malibu. I know I’m risking being done for accessory by backing Dave up, but if I don’t, he could end up grassing me. Davis writes down my statement, calls one of the coppers back in and tells him to take my handcuffs off. I sign the statement. Davis signs it as well, puts it in his pile of papers and stands.
He looks down at me and says, ‘You’re about as ignorant as your old man was.’
He goes to the door and turns to the uniformed copper.
‘Get her out of here,’ he says and walks off down the corridor.
I follow the copper past the cells and give Dave a wink as I reach him. I get taken to the front door and, as I go out onto the street, I turn back. Davis is looking at me from a window near the corner of the building.
• • •
Sammy and Lizzie are gone when I get back. Claire and Maureen are sitting one each side of Mum at the table drinking tea.
Maureen looks up and says, ‘Thank God for that. Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ I say.
I pour myself a cup of tea from the pot and sit at the table. ‘Where’s Georgie?’ I say.
‘Lying on the bed reading,’ says Claire.
‘Lizzie?’
‘Working.’
Mum takes a drink of her gin and stares at the table. Maureen’s looking at me.
‘What happened?’ she says.
‘Nothing, really.’
‘It didn’t look like nothing.’
‘Don’t, Mum,’ says Claire.
Maureen’s still got her eye on me. After a bit she says, ‘It’s to do with that night you brought the kids round late to mine and then took the pram away, isn’t it?’
No one speaks. I look at Claire and she’s biting her lip and staring at the fireplace.
Maureen looks at her and then at me.
‘You’d better tell me what’
s gone on,’ she says.
There’s the sound of people going down the stairs and the door opens and Lizzie comes in.
Maureen says, ‘Not now, Lizzie.’
‘I want her here,’ I say.
Lizzie stands by the door for a moment then she comes to the table and sits down next to me. I feel her hand on my leg.
Maureen says, ‘Let’s have it then.’
I’m just about to say something when Mum jerks upright, grabs hold of Maureen’s hair and wrenches her head back. She shouts in her ear, ‘You leave my girl alone, Maureen Welch, or I’ll rip your fucking head off!’
I run round the table and get hold of Mum. Claire pulls Maureen away and sits her down. Mum’s flailing her arms about and screaming at me to let go of her and I’m grappling with her and then Lizzie joins in and we get her onto the mattress and hold her down. She thrashes about a bit and then she quietens.
‘Jesus Christ, Alice!’ says Maureen.
‘She’s all right now,’ I say.
Mum starts sobbing and crying. She reaches her hand round my neck, pulls me to her and says, ‘That bastard hurt my little girl, he hurt my little girl.’
‘All right, Mum,’ I say.
‘Hurt my, hurt my, hurt my …’
Her voice tails off and she closes her eyes. I feel her body go limp and her breathing settles down. I wipe her eyes with my sleeve then I get up and sit at the table. Lizzie and Claire sit down too. Maureen’s rubbing her head where her hair’s been pulled. I pour everyone a glass of sherry. I take a good drink myself and then I tell her what’s happened.
• • •
A bit later, Maureen’s looking like she’s had the shock of her life. One thing’s led to another and I’ve told her about Johnny and Nick Bailey as well and how Dave made me do it. I get up and pour a cup of tea. I put it in front of her and sit down at the table. Claire and Lizzie are looking at her.
She sips her tea and then she says, ‘I can’t believe you’d …’
She stops speaking and we all sit there in silence, waiting for what she’s going to say. She takes a couple more sips of her tea then she looks straight at me.
‘I admire you for what you did to that beast, Rina, and the other one you had to do because you were forced to. You did what you had to for your Jack and Georgie and no one will hear anything about it from me, may God strike me dead.’
‘Thanks, Maureen,’ I say.
‘That kind are filth,’ says Claire.
Maureen puts her arm round her daughter and I pour out the last of the sherry.
I hear someone running up the stairs. There’s a knock at the door and I go and open it. Sammy’s leaning on the bannister, breathing hard.
‘Are Claire and her mum still there?’ he says.
‘Yeah,’ I say.
I let him come in and he goes straight to Maureen.
‘I’ve just been in the pub and your Ron’s been in a rare old ruck with a couple of black blokes. He’s fighting mad and he’s smashed up your gaff and I think he’s going to come looking for you.’
Maureen goes to the window and looks out. Claire says, ‘He doesn’t know we’re here, does he?’
‘I reckon he might,’ says Sammy.
‘Have you told him, you stupid …?’
‘Of course I haven’t. Now come on, both of you, the car’s downstairs.’
Sammy opens the door and Maureen and Claire put on their coats. ‘Where are you going to go?’ I say,
They look at one another then Claire says, ‘We’ll be all right, don’t …’
The downstairs door crashes open and someone’s running up the stairs. Sammy closes our door and puts his weight against it. Before I can get there to add mine, the door flies open and Sammy’s thrown on the floor.
Claire’s dad stands swaying in the doorway. He’s a big man and his forehead’s dripping blood. He sees us standing behind the table and he starts grinning and then laughing. He walks towards Maureen, and stretches out his arms as if he’s going to give her a cuddle. I back away from her and, as he swings back his arm to hit her, I grab the frying pan off the draining board and smash it against the side of his head. He falls onto the table, it breaks in half, and he lands hard on the floor.
The bedroom door opens and Georgie’s looking at Claire’s dad bleeding onto the floorboards. There’s a deep cut on the side of his head where I’ve caught him with the edge of the frying pan. He shifts onto his back and starts to come round.
Lizzie’s right by him. She says, ‘Upstairs. All of you. Come on.’
Georgie’s gone back in the bedroom. I go to get her and she whines and tells me to leave her be, but I pull her by the arm and tell her she can bring her book. When we go back through the kitchen, Claire’s dad’s up on all fours shaking his head and wondering where he is. We get out without him seeing us and follow the others upstairs.
Lizzie locks and bolts her door and me and Sammy help her to move her wardrobe in front of it. Georgie sits on the floor in the corner and opens her book. Lizzie takes a bottle of Scotch out from under her bed and gets cups from her kitchen. While I’m watching her pour us all a drink, I remember I’ve left Mum with Claire’s dad. I’m wondering whether to go down again when I hear a crash from downstairs and a dog barking and two men shouting. I go to the window. It’s dark now, but I can see Claire’s dad rolling down the steps onto the pavement. I beckon to the others and we see him lie still for a minute, then he pulls himself up on the railings and limps off along the street.
Sammy opens the window and leans out, then he shuts it and says to Claire, ‘He’s gone into yours.’
Lizzie hands us cups of whisky.
‘Do you want a drink of milk, love?’ she asks Georgie. Georgie shakes her head without looking up.
Maureen sits down in a chair and sighs like she’s really tired. Claire pulls up a chair next to her and puts her arm round her.
Maureen leans her head against Claire and says, ‘He wasn’t always like that, you know.’
‘I know, Mum,’ says Claire. ‘It’s the drink that’s got him.’
Claire turns her mum’s head towards her and says, ‘You can’t go on with him anymore, you know.’
‘Where can we go?’
‘You’re staying at ours,’ I say.
‘That’s the first place he’ll come to,’ says Claire.
The dog barks outside on the landing and there’s a knock at the door.
Lizzie says, ‘That’s Aleksy. I’ll see what he wants.’
We shift the wardrobe and she unlocks the door and goes onto the landing. I can hear them talking and then Lizzie comes back in with the rent collector with his sharp suit and his Alsatian.
She says to me, ‘It’s you he wants.’
The rent collector looks at the four of us and then at Georgie. He points at me with his stick and says, ‘You go downstairs please. I talk.’
The dog gives a growl and I say to Lizzie, ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
Aleksy opens the door for me and I go down the stairs with the dog panting behind me. When we get into our kitchen he looks at the broken table and Mum sleeping and the blood on the floor and says, ‘You make shit hole, no?’
‘Accident,’ I say.
He looks at Mum and says, ‘You, her and kids out in two weeks.’
‘What?’ I say.
‘Landlord want flat. Repossess. You out.’ He turns to leave.
‘Hang on,’ I say.
I go to the bedroom and take the money I got from Dave out of the back of the armchair with one arm. I peel off a couple of fivers and put the rest in my pocket. I go back in the kitchen, hold the notes out to him and say, ‘How about a couple of months’ rent?’
He shakes his head and says, ‘Out. Two weeks.’
Mum was right. Johnny was keeping us here rent-free by threatening Bielsky, who Aleksy collects rents and clears out for. Now he’s gone, they can move five Jamaicans in and get more rent. I look at his pointy shoes and his silk
tie and his silver top cane and his sneering look. The dog starts licking at the blood on the floor. He pulls it to him.
‘Two weeks, or we come.’
‘Wait,’ I say.
He stops in the doorway.
‘Tell Bielsky I want to see him.’
He turns and looks me up and down then he says, ‘Mister Bielsky don’t see scum.’
‘Fuck you!’
‘You only good for suck men’s cock. You want suck men’s cock, make money, you come to me.’
There’s a scuffling sound over by the gas stove. The Alsatian darts across, dives underneath the stove and scrambles out with a rat wriggling and squealing in its mouth. The dog chews it up and swallows it in one. Aleksy goes across, picks up its lead and pats its back.
‘You get your dinner. You good boy.’
He takes the dog out onto the landing. As he turns onto the stairs he says, ‘Two weeks, or we come.’
17
I pick up an AK 47, look at Pilar and say, ‘Once loaded with a full magazine, it’s basically point and shoot.’
Pilar repeats this to the girls in Spanish. I pick up a full magazine and slide it into place in the magazine well.
‘You can fire single shot or automatic by moving this selector switch here. Middle position for automatic, lower position for semi-automatic. The upper position is safety which means you can’t fire the gun.’
I show them the switching action and put the gun to my shoulder. ‘Then you take aim by lining up the sights and pull the trigger, or you can shoot from the hip if your target is close to you.’
There’s a burst of machine gun fire and then single shots from somewhere above. I give a gun and a full magazine to Pilar and each girl, except for Paloma. When she sees that she has been excluded, she knots the ends of Tomas’s shawl to make a sling, puts it over her head and swings him round so that he lies at her back, then she takes an AK from the rack and loads it with surprising efficiency. The girls form a line, check their selector switches, shoulder the guns and look along the sights. María and Adriana are clearly excited by the prospect of action. Paloma and Lucía have more of an air of quiet resolve about them. I feel tearful for a moment as they stand before me cradling lethal weapons in their slender young arms and I curse the men who have twisted their innocence so brutally.