“That’s exactly what it was. Bullshit.” When Troy looked bewildered, Tyrese continued, “I don’t want mum breathing down our necks, watching our every move. And anyway, she’s got enough on her plate, what with Jessie going AWOL and Trent upstairs. We don’t want to worry her anymore.”
“You mean, we’re still going to sort out the Healys?” Troy asked.
“Yeah,” Tyrese said. “In fact, I want you to deliver a message to the other guys.”
“Sure.”
“Tell everyone that I want Corey dead,” Tyrese said, his voice low. “Spread it around the gang, right? Nobody else is to know.”
“What about Jayden?”
“We’ll leave him for now. At the moment, I want him to suffer like we’ve suffered. You sure you get what I want you to do?”
Troy looked up at Tyrese and nodded.
“Yeah, tell the gang that you want Corey dead,” Troy repeated. Tyrese nodded and patted his brother on the back.
“I’ll stay here a bit longer,” Tyrese said. “I want to be here when Trent wakes up. You go home and spread the message.”
Troy nodded and set off across the hospital car park, a smile on his face.
* * *
Clint walked through the estate, grinning at the bounce in his step. That was the effect that being with Aurora had on him. He’d spent all day with her, first at school and then, deciding that Friday afternoons were wasted at school, they’d gone to the park. All afternoon they’d lain together, kissing, talking. Whatever they wanted.
Afternoon had given way to evening too quickly for Clint, but he’d walked Aurora home, stopping every few metres to kiss her again. Outside Aurora’s flat, which had so far been a no-contact zone because of Marlena’s ever-watchful eyes, Aurora had taken him by surprise by pulling him up against her and kissing him. The door had opened and Marlena’s disapproving face appeared from the darkened hallway, but Aurora had pecked Clint on the lips defiantly and sauntered inside, unapologetic. Clint had smiled at Marlena, who had promptly slammed the door without returning the gesture.
Even so, Clint was on top of the world. Nothing could bring him down now, he was sure of it.
As he opened his front door and walked inside, he was instantly aware that something was wrong. Walking into the lounge, the source of his discomfort became clear.
His father lounged on the settee, his vast stomach barely contained by a stained white vest. Crumpled beer cans littered the floor around him and another was at his lips.
“Oh good, your home,” his mother said from the kitchen. “I can serve dinner now.”
“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Clint said, shrugging off his coat.
“Damn right we didn’t,” Rakhul bellowed from the settee. “Wondering in and out like a fucking alley cat.”
“Not to worry,” Femi said sweetly, trying to divert an argument. “He’s here now. I’ll just get the pie out of the oven.”
“Well hurry up,” Rakhul groaned and continued drinking his beer.
Clint went to his room and found Kojo curled up on his bed.
“You all right, bro?” he asked, kicking off his trainers and spraying some deodorant under his shirt.
Kojo didn’t reply, turning to face the wall.
“Kojo, what’s up?” Clint sat on the edge of his brother’s bed, putting a hand on his brother’s arm. “Is it school or something?”
Kojo still didn’t speak, but he shook his head.
“Then what is it? Come on, sit up.”
Kojo reluctantly did as he was told and sat up, wiping at his eyes. He’d been crying then.
Clint smiled at his brother.
“What’s the matter then? You can tell me.”
Kojo looked up at him and his eyes flickered to the door.
Clint followed his eyes, then realisation struck.
“Did dad hit you?” He could keep the anger out of his voice.
Kojo was silent for a moment, before nodding gingerly.
“Right,” Clint said.
He jumped off the bed and burst into the lounge. Rakhul still occupied the sofa, propping himself up on some cushions so he could eat the plate of pie he’d acquired. Another can of beer hung to his lips.
Clint paused in the doorway.
“Dinner’s ready,” Femi called to him. As if on cue, the smells of chicken and mushroom pie drifted over to him and made Clint’s mouth water, but he was too angry to eat. Somebody had to stand up to the bully and he was the only one who could do it.
“You fucking prick,” Clint said, his voice low and aggressive.
Rakhul turned to look at him, amusement in his eyes.
“You what?” he roared.
Before he could move, Clint jumped across the room and fell on him, clenched fists pummelling his face and shoulders. The beer can flew out of Rakhul’s hand, sending cold beer over the settee. Rakhul was roaring in his ear, but Clint carried on. The plate nudged his hips, and Clint grabbed it.
“You little shit, I’ll -” Rakhul began, freezing mid-threat as Clint smashed the plate as hard as he could into his face.
The plate splintered and cracked, showering Rakhul with broken china. Femi was screaming from the other side of the room, begging Clint to stop, but he couldn’t.
A meaty hand grabbed him around the throat, and Clint stopped, struggling for air. Rakhul’s face, bruised and dripping with beer and chicken pie, was alive with malice.
“I’ll teach you to hit me, you fucking dog,” he said.
He shook Clint and, roaring like a bull, didn’t flinch at Clint’s desperate swings to his face. Clint struggled against Rakhul’s grip but it was too tight. Rakhul lifted himself off the settee and threw him to the floor. Clint grimaced in pain as his back collided with the coffee table but he gasped for air, grateful for the release of pressure on his throat. Rakhul stood over him, eyes wild with rage.
“I’ll show you,” he spat.
As he knelt beside Clint, the punches began. Strong blows that seemed to rattle his whole body. Clint tried to fight back, but he was no match for Rakhul when he was this enraged.
An hour later, Clint crawled to his bedroom, his body shaking in protest and pain. Rakhul had retired to bed, tired out by his exertion, and Femi had gone with him, exhausted by the sobbing she’d done as she watched Clint take his beating.
Clint clambered up onto his bed and lay on top of the duvet, breathing heavily. The room was silent. That meant that Kojo was still awake.
“I’m sorry,” Kojo whispered from the dark.
“Don’t be,” Clint said. He tried to sound reassuring, though every movement made him wince as a wave of pain shot through his body. “You’re not the one who should be sorry.”
* * *
The following morning, Clint awoke to silence. He looked around the room, but he was alone. He stood up unsteadily, the pain he had felt last night now a dull ache that echoed from limb to limb.
He shuffled through the flat but everybody was out. He checked his parents’ bedroom cautiously, but Rakhul was gone. Most likely to the pub, Clint thought.
In the kitchen he made himself breakfast and wolfed it down. He was washing his dishes when there was a knock at the door.
Looking through the peephole, Clint felt a moment’s hesitation. It was Aurora. He was desperate to be with her, but what would she say when she saw him in this state? She knew, as did most people, that Rakhul was a violent drunk who was handy with his fists, but seeing evidence of it was a whole different thing. He couldn’t imagine her running away, but she might feel scared, might want to distance herself from him. He wouldn’t even blame her if she did.
She knocked again and Clint opened the door. The winter sunlight burst into the corridor and illuminated his face and arms, his bruised chest.
Aurora looked at him in surprise, taking it all in. Clint stood still, waiting to see her reaction. She moved forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.
“You poor thing,” she sai
d.
Clint was delighted. Aurora closed the door behind her and took over. She ordered him to lie on the bed, which he did, eager to please her. Aurora disappeared into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later with an ointment he’d seen his mother use on her own bruises.
As she sat on the edge of his bed, Clint resisted the urge to pull her on top of him and make love to her. She looked so beautiful today. And she was playing nurse.
“This may sting a little,” Aurora said, unscrewing the tub. “But it’ll help, okay?”
Clint nodded and closed his eyes. The cream was cold and, as Aurora had warned him, it stung as it penetrated his skin, burning the tissue beneath the bruises. Still, he didn’t flinch. Aurora’s hands were soft and gentle, caressing his face and neck, his chest and stomach, and his aching shoulders.
“Anywhere else?” she asked.
“Just a bit lower,” Clint said, his voice thick with desire.
Aurora laughed. “Nice try, but I think you’ll have to wait a few days for that.”
Clint joined her in laughing and rolled over so that Aurora could do his back.
“Your dad did this to you?” she asked, her hands massaging his aching shoulder blades.
“Yeah,” Clint replied, before adding, with a laugh, “You should see him though.”
Aurora didn’t see the funny side.
“You could always come and stay with me,” she said. “Away from that monster.”
Clint felt his heart swell at her offer and the concern in her voice.
“I’d love to,” he said, smiling into the pillow. “But then my mum and Kojo would take the flack when he’s got a temper, and I can’t do that to them.”
Aurora was quiet, but Clint knew that she understood.
When she’d finished applying the cream, Aurora helped him into the lounge, where they sat on the floor and watched television, kissing and laughing.
Clint frowned when she told him she had to go, a few hours later.
“Do you have to?”
“I promised I’d see Zoe today,” she said, though the reluctance was clear in her voice. “And I can’t let her down.”
Clint smiled at her, kissing her playfully on the lips. He rose to his feet and walked Aurora to the door.
“I love you.”
“I love you more.”
* * *
Aurora walked the short distance to Zoe’s flat and knocked on the door. Zoe ushered her in moments later and began pouring hot water into two mugs for tea.
“Did you go and see Clint?” she asked, passing her one of the mugs.
Aurora nodded but didn’t elaborate. Although Clint had clearly been relieved to have her in the flat with him, she had seen the fear and doubt in his eyes when he had opened the front door to her. It stung that Clint didn’t know for certain that her heart belonged to him and that no matter what, she would always love him.
Zoe looked at her curiously but didn’t press the matter, a knowing look in her eye. Aurora was grateful. If Clint wanted to let people know what his father had done, it was up to him. Whilst it wasn’t unusual on the Goldsworth, she could understand why Clint may feel uncomfortable, so she kept quiet.
“Is everything all right with you then?” Zoe asked. “I got your text earlier.”
This was the moment that Aurora had been anticipating. Earlier in the morning she had text Zoe, knowing she needed somebody to talk to, somebody who wouldn’t judge her and somebody she could trust.
“It said you needed some advice?” Zoe prompted.
Aurora nodded.
“From me?” Zoe asked, bewildered by Aurora’s decision.
“Yeah, I trust you,” Aurora replied, and Zoe blushed. “I just needed to talk about it.”
Zoe was sat sipping her tea, not interrupting but taking in Aurora’s words.
“Okay, let’s hear it,” Zoe said.
“Well, it’s just that I’ve missed my period,” Aurora said, trying to find the words. “And I’ve been having morning sickness for the past few days and -”
“And you think you might be pregnant?”
“Yeah,” Aurora replied. “And I thought, seeing as you’ve been pregnant, that you probably know better than me how you know if you are or not.”
“How late are you?”
“Only a few days.”
“Well, sounds like you might be, but there’s only one way to find out for sure.”
“I can’t go to the shop and get a test though,” Aurora sighed. “What if my mum saw me? Or one of her friends? She’d kill me.”
Aurora looked across at Zoe and groaned.
“I’m so screwed.”
“Does Clint know about it?” Zoe asked.
“No.”
“Do you think he’d be bothered?”
“No,” Aurora admitted truthfully. She remembered his loving eyes looking up at her from his bed. “He’d probably take it better than I have.”
“So that’s one less thing to worry about, eh?”
“I guess,” Aurora said. “But what about the test?”
“Just leave that to me.”
* * *
Zoe walked down the narrow aisles of the corner shop and glanced up at the ceiling. No security cameras. She felt her body relax and was pleased that she had walked a further ten minutes to a different shop to the one she normally used. The shop on the outskirts of the Goldsworth had security cameras and the shopkeeper seemed unusually suspicious of any shoppers, because so many people robbed it. This shop clearly hadn’t experienced the same kind of problems, or at least not noticed it yet.
Zoe stopped at the small section given up to pregnancy testing kits. Blues, greens and pinks looked down at her. She focused in on the green packet with a baby koala on the side. This was the test she had used, all those months ago, and it had been accurate.
She glanced back at the greasy-haired man behind the counter on the far side of the shop. He was preoccupied with an elderly woman emptying a small basket onto the counter, and Zoe quickly snatched the green packet and shoved it into the inside of her jacket.
She walked back down the aisle, pretending to peruse some items that she had no interest in, then walked towards the door. The man behind the counter looked up at her, but the elderly woman was talking and he was quickly distracted. Zoe pushed through the door and sighed as she strolled down the street. Success.
She marched down the road and headed back towards the Goldsworth. After Aurora had told her about her maybe-pregnancy, Zoe had sent her home to wait and come to collect the test. She hadn’t told Aurora that she would shoplift it, as she figured that Aurora didn’t need to worry about anything else right now.
Aurora was a good girl. Zoe was bemused, remembering her first impressions of her. How she hadn’t been able to meet her eyes and had trembled whenever she was near her. Now she was a confidante, a best friend, and Zoe wasn’t sure which one was worst. I trust you. Those were the words that Aurora had used, and Zoe had blushed. From pleasure, certainly. Nobody had told her so explicitly that she was trustworthy before, not even Brandy or Sasha. She had always just been there, like wallpaper. There was also guilt, though. Zoe was pleased that Aurora could trust her and she was pleased that they were such good friends now, but the fact remained that she had witnessed her sister’s murder and had said nothing.
Zoe turned into the Goldsworth and shuddered as she passed Sasha’s flat, the windows dark. Her parents had gone to see Sasha’s grandma again. Zoe averted her eyes and continued through the estate.
Minutes later she knocked on Aurora’s door. It was opened by Aurora’s mother, Marlena. Zoe smiled, but her heart was racing and her throat was constricting. This was Shaniqua’s mother. The mother of the girl she had participated in the killing of.
“You must be Zoe?” Marlena asked.
Zoe nodded. In the daylight from the open door, Marlena’s face was a maze of lines and creases. The face she’d seen on the news, appealing for help, seemed years you
nger in contrast. Her eyes were bloodshot and lifeless, and Zoe realised that this must be the antidepressants that Aurora had told her about.
“Is Aurora in?” Zoe asked, trying to keep her voice from wavering.
Marlena nodded and stepped aside.
Zoe followed her through the flat, noticing how dirty the rooms she passed were. She caught sight of the lounge, with a sofa indented with Marlena’s frame and a selection of dirty glasses and empty bottles, and quickly walked on.
Marlena stopped outside Aurora’s bedroom and knocked.
The door was flung open and Aurora dragged Zoe in. Marlena hovered for a moment, as if unsure what to do with herself, before retreating down the hallway again. Zoe was relieved that she had gone. Any longer with her and Zoe would have been popping antidepressants herself.
Aurora closed the bedroom door and looked expectantly at her.
“I got you a test,” Zoe said.
Aurora leapt up and hugged Zoe tightly.
“You’re amazing,” she said. “How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Zoe said, waving her hand.
Aurora looked surprised but nodded. Zoe was relieved. She didn’t want anything else adding to her growing guilt.
Zoe pulled the green packet out of her coat and Aurora opened it with shaking fingers.
“What do I have to do?” she asked.
“You pee on that end,” Zoe explained. “Then you’ve got to wait two minutes.”
Aurora skimmed the instructions with her eyes then went to the bathroom. Zoe sat on the edge of Aurora’s bed, waiting for her to come back. Another single bed across the room made Zoe feel increasingly nervous. It was Shaniqua’s bed.
She stood up and looked around the walls. Numerous photos decorated the room and most were of Aurora and Shaniqua, smiling at the camera. Shaniqua’s face, bright smile and eyes crinkled with joy and life. Zoe remembered how she had looked that night when Troy had stabbed her. Eyes narrowed, like a cornered cat, her face twisted in fear and then pain. Seeing Shaniqua’s face alive and happy made Zoe’s stomach churn in disgust. She was to blame for putting that life out. Her and the others.
The Goldsworth Series Box Set Page 31