“How do you feel, wifey?” Clint whispered beside her, taking her hand in his again.
Aurora smiled. It was hard to put into words the elation she was feeling.
“Like I’m in heaven,” she replied, and Clint squeezed her hand.
* * *
The crying would not stop. Brandy listened, waiting for Aunt Bo to go to comfort Frazer as she always did. Nothing.
“Bo, the baby’s crying,” Brandy called through her bedroom door, but there was no response. She hesitated. The crying was louder now, more urgent. Brandy’s hands shook. Perhaps Aunt Bo was testing her, seeing if she would go to check on the boy. Brandy would not fall for it, would not give her aunt the satisfaction.
After a few long minutes, Brandy had to accept that Aunt Bo was not here. She threw open her bedroom door and went into the lounge. Frazer was in his cot, his face red as he cried and screeched. Brandy stood in the doorway, looking at him, wondering what it might want. Feeding? A nappy change? She would not be doing that, Brandy told herself.
“What do you want?” she shouted at Frazer. He did not respond, not that she had expected him to. He continued to cry.
Brandy took a deep breath and crossed the room. She stood over the cot, looking down at her son. He did not stop crying at the sight of her. He probably didn’t even know who she was, Brandy thought.
She hesitated, then reached down into the cot and picked Frazer up, her hands firm beneath his armpits. He twisted in her hands and stopped crying for a moment, surprised. He looked at her face, panting hard from the effort of his screeching, his face still red. Brandy sighed with relief. Frazer blinked hard and let out another cry, resuming his previous efforts.
Brandy groaned. She adjusted him in her arms, so he was cradled against her, and with one hand she patted his bottom. He was dry, so he did not need changing, she determined, relieved. She took him into the kitchen and found some milk in the fridge. She had watched her aunt heat in the microwave, but Brandy had never paid any attention. She filled the bottle with milk and stuck it into Frazer’s mouth.
He took a few sips and turned away. Brandy put the bottle down, wondering what the hell Aunt Bo was playing at leaving Frazer unattended.
The crying had stopped, and soon Frazer’s normal colouring had returned, and he was looking around the room, and up at Brandy’s face, as if examining her.
“Don’t get attached to me,” Brandy warned him, as she sat down heavily on the sofa, Frazer nestled in her arms. “I didn’t want you. I still don’t.”
Frazer smiled up at her, his eyes big and round and innocent. Brandy noticed that he had the same colour eyes as hers. She wondered if he would be handsome when he was older. He was a combination of her and Troy’s looks, so she thought his chances were good. At least in appearance, she thought. Mentally, he was probably going to be fucked-up.
“Stop smiling at me,” Brandy told him. She was not sure why he seemed to like her, trust her. Maybe it was just because he was a stupid baby who would trust anything, she thought. “I’m not good for you, Frazer. You don’t like me, not really.”
Frazer kept smiling at her.
Brandy stood up and put him back in his cot. He seemed to watch her as she retreated. She gave a last look back at him, then went back into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
She sat down on her bed, her palms slick with sweat. She felt anxious. She tried to stop thinking about Frazer. His smile, his eyes that matched hers. She did not want to feel close to him, did not want a bond with her son.
Brandy knew what she had to do. Frazer was innocent. He did not deserve her as a mother or Troy as a father. He deserved more than she could ever give him.
She shuddered at the thought, she knew that Aunt Bo would never forgive her, but Brandy knew it was the right decision.
She had to give Frazer a chance at a better life, to a family who loved him.
Her phone started to ring, tearing her from her thoughts.
* * *
“Brandy are you there?” Tyrese asked. He twisted the phone cord in his hands, trying to steady his nerves. She murmured a response, sounding distracted. “I’m locked up, Brandy. Why didn’t you tell the police I was with you that night?”
“You told me not to,” Brandy replied.
“Yeah, I meant don’t go telling your mates or Troy,” Tyrese hissed. He felt his anger mounting, but he tried to keep it in check. He still needed her help. He did not want to threaten her, scare her off. “Look, it’s okay. You can still talk to them, Brandy, you can still say we were together.”
“I can’t,” Brandy said. He heard the anxiety in her voice.
“Yes, you can Brandy,” Tyrese insisted. “You don’t have to tell them we had sex. You don’t have to tell them any of that. You just have to tell them we were drinking together after Trent’s wake, that I couldn’t have killed Jayden.”
He hated the desperation in his voice, but he could not help himself. Brandy was silent, but he heard the crackle on the line, her breathing.
“Brandy?” he urged her. “Please.”
“I’m not changing my statement,” Brandy said, her voice hard, determined. “I wasn’t with you that night. You killed Jayden Healy. Leave me alone.”
Tyrese felt anger rise inside him. He understood now.
“Did you set me up, is that it? You steal my phone? Get me drunk?” Tyrese demanded, almost shouting. He did not care that people could hear him. The queue for the phone was short, and they were nothing, these guys he did not know, did not want to know. He swallowed hard. “Who did it? Who really killed Jayden?”
“If you call me again, I’ll tell the police you’ve been threatening me,” Brandy said down the line. “Leave me the fuck alone, Tyrese.”
“Brandy, listen, please -”
Tyrese stopped as he heard the line disconnect. He slammed the phone back into its cradle and cursed. He clenched his fists and stormed down the corridor, ignoring the looks on the guys waiting to use the phones.
He knew that his anger was just masking his deep disappointment. Brandy had been his last chance and now that had been snatched away from him, his hope shattered by her cold words.
* * *
Dante smiled to himself.
He had not expected to overhear something as juicy as that, eavesdropping on Tyrese Banks. Since he had been dismissed from his cell, Dante had decided the best way to worm his way in was to force himself into Tyrese’s good books.
Now he knew something that he was sure Tyrese did not want his brother to find out. Tyrese had fucked Troy’s ex-girlfriend by the sounds of it, and Dante knew that this was his chance.
If Tyrese would not give him a leg up in this place and let him continue to use Wimbly, Dante would force him to. He would blackmail him, threaten him.
Whatever it took to remain on top in here.
* * *
Zoe caught Aurora’s eye as she took her first dance with Clint and gave her a wink. She was happy for her friend, so pleased that Aurora and Clint were now husband and wife.
The wedding reception was underway, the drinks flowing and the music playing. They had rented the back room of a guest house down the road from the registry office, and Marlena had decorated it beautifully.
“Do you want to dance?” Tamar asked her, holding out his hand. She smiled and took it, following him onto the dance floor.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she sighed, and quickly stopped herself. She did not want to put Tamar off, did not want him to think that this was what she wanted for herself someday. She backtracked. “Erm, I mean, it’s nice, but it’s not for me.”
Tamar smiled knowingly.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I know what you meant.”
Zoe smiled, uncertain. She loved spending time with Tamar, but she did not know what he wanted, what he really wanted from her.
“Tamar, I really like -”
“I really like you too,” Tamar said, interrupting her. Zoe looked at him. “I mea
n it, Zoe. Spending time with you, it’s so amazing. I want to be with you. I want a relationship with you. A proper one. I’m serious about you, Zoe Taylor.”
Zoe beamed, hardly able to believe what she was hearing.
“I’ll always take care of you,” Tamar went on. Zoe wondered if that was why he had almost been late this morning. She knew he had gone to see Dante, and she believed him when he said he had taken care of it. “I think, well no, I know, that I love you, Zoe.”
The words washed over her, and Zoe could hardly breathe. She did not know what to say. Tamar smiled again and pulled her closer to him. He kissed her, and she kissed him back, feeling happier than she had thought possible before.
* * *
“I think everyone’s distracted,” Clint whispered into Aurora’s ear, as they spun around, no longer alone on the dance floor. He nuzzled her neck with his lips. “Perhaps we can sneak upstairs to our room. Nobody will notice.”
Aurora smiled at him, amused and filled with longing.
“What about our mothers?” she asked, glancing around the room for a sight of them. “What would they say?”
“My mum’s hit the buffet, and your mum’s hit the free bar,” Clint grinned.
Aurora bit her lower lip, then smiled. She took his hand and led him off the dance floor, through the door to the guest rooms upstairs. Clint pulled the keys out of his pocket and fumbled with the lock when they reached their room.
Opening the door, Clint stepped back, and Aurora gasped at the room. Rose petals formed a heart-shape on the bed, and she wondered how many more surprises Clint had for her today. It was so magical, she thought, worried for a second that it might just be a dream that she would wake up from at any moment.
Clint slid his arms around her waist and kissed her, and she knew that it was not a dream. She felt the warmth of him as she pressed against him, felt his desire for her, his longing.
He steered her towards the bed and the rose petals crushed beneath her as she lay against the duvet. Clint’s mouth was on her and she clasped him against her.
She never wanted to let him go, she realised.
* * *
Kojo looked around the reception, catching a glimpse of Aurora and Clint sneaking upstairs. He smiled at the sight. His mum was distracted, piling her plate high with food, and so he managed to sneak a beer from the bar. Amal saw him and nodded, with a sly wink.
“Enjoying your beer?” a voice asked from behind him, and Kojo spun around to see Scarlett, looking pretty in a pink dress. She smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”
Kojo pulled her to him and kissed her lightly on the lips.
“Glad you made it,” he said. “This party sucks without you.”
“Well, I’m here now,” she beamed, blushing.
Kojo looked around and saw Shontelle had arrived too, already pulling Amal onto the dance floor. Kojo felt a smug sense of satisfaction that Amal had offered him a job, gone behind the stuck-up bitch’s back.
Following his eyes, Scarlett seemed to tense.
“We came together,” Scarlett said. She hesitated as Kojo turned to her, a questioning look in his eye. “I know she upset you yesterday, but she’s my sister. We had a long talk this morning, and we patched things up.”
Kojo felt anger flare inside him and he tried to fight it, to stop his hands from clenching into fists. After everything, Scarlett had gone behind his back and forgiven Shontelle. Was he the only one who saw her for the interfering cow that she was?
“I thought you’d chosen me,” Kojo said through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching. “But first chance you get, you go and sort things out with her.”
“She’s my sister, Kojo.”
“And what am I?” Kojo snapped.
He realised that he would never be Scarlett’s priority, that her sister would always come first. Shontelle would do everything she could to keep them apart, and Scarlett would let her.
Scarlett reached for his hands, eyes wide with apprehension, but Kojo pulled away from her. He slammed his beer down onto the bar and went into the toilets. The anger was raging inside him. He did not understand it, did not want it, but he knew he could not resist it.
He kicked out at the walls, the toilet cubicle, cursing. He was shaking hard, adrenaline and rage coursing through him. He heard the door open behind him, and Scarlett walked in, anxious.
She took a step back when he turned, and he knew that she was scared, seeing the anger in his eyes, the muscles in his neck twitching.
“Kojo -” she half-whispered.
She had done this to him, Kojo realised. She had betrayed him, chosen her sister over him, and that was why he was so angry. He crossed the room in two strides, pushing her against the wall. She seemed to shrink, shaking with nerves.
“Come on, what am I to you then?” Kojo hissed, flecks of spit hitting her face. She did not wipe them off, frozen with fear. Kojo leant closer, his face inches from hers, his hands pressed to the wall beside her head. “I mean, I’m nothing compared to your precious sister, am I? Can’t compete with her. So come on, Scarlett. Speak.”
“You’re scaring me,” Scarlett whispered. “I didn’t mean to -”
“Betray me?” Kojo asked, almost growling. “Well, you fucking did.”
“Maybe I should go,” Scarlett said slowly. “Let you calm down.”
“Don’t you like me like this?” Kojo snapped. “Well, this is me. If you don’t like it, crawl back to your fucking sister.”
“Kojo, I like you,” Scarlett said, almost crying now. “I really do, I promise.”
“Prove it,” Kojo said.
“I don’t know how,” she said. “I -”
“Yeah, you do,” Kojo cut across her, glaring at her. His anger towards her was consuming him, and he needed a release, needed her to show how much she wanted him, liked him. “You can prove it right now. Get on your knees.”
Scarlett was shaking, blinking away tears now, but Kojo could not stop himself.
“If you like me as much as you say you do,” Kojo insisted, “Then you’ll do it.”
Scarlett gave out a whimper as she slid down the wall. Kojo smiled, satisfied that he still had some control over her, that she was doing this for him. Perhaps he could compete against her sister after all. He felt her hands shaking as she unzipped his trousers.
“Kojo, I think -” she cried, but Kojo wrapped his hand into her hair and pulled her head back, and she went silent, looking up at him, her look pleading. Whatever she had been about to say, she kept to herself.
He knew she would think twice before she went behind his back now. He was not to be messed with, Kojo thought, and it was about time Scarlett realised that.
* * *
Brandy watched Aunt Bo’s face tighten as she registered what she had said. She frowned, shaking her head.
“I won’t allow it,” she said eventually. She glanced over at Frazer. “I won’t see that poor boy out on the street. How can you even think of such a thing?”
Brandy sighed. She had expected this reaction.
“He’ll be better off with a family who actually wants him,” she insisted.
“I want him,” Aunt Bo said. “And deep down, so do you.”
“No, Bo, I don’t. I see mums with their kids every day, see the way they look at them, the way they show them off. Aurora with that girl she’s just had. Zoe and Sienna. They want their kids, they love them. I don’t want Frazer.”
“You’re just adjusting,” Aunt Bo said. She put a hand to her chest. “It takes some longer than others to accept motherhood.”
“Like my mum, you mean?” Brandy asked. Aunt Bo looked down at her lap. Maybe she had no answer for that, Brandy thought.
As if on cue, the front door opened and slammed shut, and a moment later Deanna appeared in the doorway. She looked at each of them, eyes narrowing.
“What’s going on in here?” she demanded.
“Nothing that concerns you,” Brandy said, not even looking up at
her.
Deanna took a step into the living room.
“This is my flat,” she said. “Anything and everything that happens concerns me. As far as I’m concerned, the lot of you are just lodgers taking up my space. Don’t think I won’t chuck you to the kerb if you lot don’t show me the respect I deserve.”
Frazer gave a cry from his cot.
“Someone shut that brat up,” Deanna snapped. Aunt Bo half-rose from her chair, but Frazer fell quiet.
“This concerns your grandson,” Aunt Bo said, sitting back down.
“What have I told you about calling him that?” Deanna hissed.
“Brandy’s just told me she wants to give him away,” Aunt Bo said, shooting a dirty look at Brandy. Brandy rolled her eyes. She did not know what her aunt expected, but she doubted she would get any support from her mum for keeping him here. Aunt Bo went on. “She wants to give him up for adoption. She’s already got the number for social services. I’ve told her it’s a ridiculous idea, but she won’t listen.”
Deanna looked from Aunt Bo to Brandy. Brandy saw the cogs grinding behind her eyes, perhaps battling through the fog of drugs and alcohol. One look at the state of her, and anyone in their right mind would know that she was no suitable flatmate for a baby.
“If that’s what Brandy wants, then that’s what’s best,” Deanna said slowly. Brandy was surprised, and she saw Aunt Bo’s reaction matched her own.
“What are you saying Deanna?” Aunt Bo gasped. “You’d let her give him -”
“Yeah, why are you agreeing with me?” Brandy asked. “You know I’m giving him to social services, right? We’re not making money from it, we’re not selling him.”
Deanna glared at them both, shaking her head.
“I do have a clue about motherhood,” she said, coming further into the room, glancing over at the cot. “I’m a shit mum, and don’t deny it. Always have been, always will be. Some people aren’t cut out for it. Too selfish. Too damaged.” She lit a cigarette and blew smoke across the room. She looked at Brandy. “If you know you’re not going to be his mother, in the ways it matters, then you’re better off giving him to someone who will. You’ll only hurt him, break him, otherwise. Like I did with you.”
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