Blood Rush (Lilly Valentine)

by Black, Helen

  ‘This is a bad mess,’ he says. ‘A very bad mess.’

  ‘I’ll sort it,’ says Chika.

  The man puts another cigarette between his lips and pulls out a lighter. He shields the flame with his hands and lights up. He breathes in and out until his face is once again shrouded.

  ‘No more fuck-ups, Chika.’

  Then the electric window rises and the car pulls away.

  Karol peeped his head around Lilly’s office door.

  ‘There’s someone to see you.’

  Lilly frowned. There were no appointments in the diary.

  ‘She says it will only take a moment,’ said Karol with a smile. ‘I think you might be interested.’

  In reception, Annabelle had taken a seat, most of her face hidden by a bouquet of flowers. Tanisha was by her side, engrossed with her phone.

  When she saw Lilly, Annabelle jumped up. ‘These are for you.’

  The flowers were exquisite. Tiger lilies held together in an organza bow.

  ‘These are beautiful,’ Lilly gasped.

  ‘A small thank you,’ said Annabelle. ‘Since we were passing.’

  Lilly held them to her face and took in the perfume. Representing children in care had not involved many gifts over the years. A grunted acknowledgement was as good as it got.

  ‘We know you weren’t keen to take on Tanisha’s case and we want you to know how much we appreciate it,’ said Annabelle. ‘Don’t we, Tanisha?’

  Tanisha didn’t look up from her phone but managed a nod.

  ‘Let me put those in some water,’ said Karol.

  He took the flowers and headed to the kitchen. Tanisha lifted her head and watched him.

  ‘He your man?’ she asked Lilly.

  ‘No.’ Lilly gave a nervous laugh. ‘He’s doing some work for me.’

  ‘He’s sexy, innit.’

  ‘Tanisha,’ Annabelle chided.

  The girl shrugged. ‘Just saying.’

  Annabelle sighed and a sadness passed over her face. She clearly wanted to say something else to Tanisha but settled for rubbing her knee.

  ‘So what brings you down here?’ Lilly asked.

  Annabelle instantly brightened. ‘Tanisha’s scan.’

  Lilly hid her surprise. There was only one hospital in Harpenden and it was private. Annabelle must be paying for Tanisha’s ante-natal care.

  ‘Do you have the photo?’ Lilly asked.

  Tanisha fished into the pocket of her hoodie and pulled out a small black and white picture, already crumpled around the edges. Lilly took it and smiled. It was impossible to make out more than an egg-shaped blur.

  ‘Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?’

  ‘A girl.’ Tanisha pointed to a tiny swirl that might be the head. ‘Cos you can see she’s going to have a pretty face.’

  ‘A beautiful baby girl,’ Annabelle said, her eyes shining.

  ‘You got any kids?’ Tanisha asked.

  Lilly nodded. ‘A boy called Sam and a baby called Alice. She’s only five months old.’

  ‘Ain’t you a bit old to have a baby?’

  ‘Tanisha, what have we said about manners and keeping things to yourself?’ whispered Annabelle.

  Lilly threw back her head and laughed. ‘Don’t worry. You’re right. I’m far too old.’

  When Karol came back into the room, Tanisha gave him a sly smile and shifted in her chair, arching her back.

  Annabelle coughed and got to her feet.

  ‘We’d better be off,’ she said. ‘Lots to do.’

  Tanisha stood too, taking the opportunity to jut her hip in Karol’s direction.

  ‘We haven’t heard anything from the police, so hopefully the whole matter is closed,’ said Annabelle and ushered Tanisha out of the door.

  The bedroom is a complete mess with tops and jeans scattered everywhere. The floor is covered in CD cases and bracelets and at least ten pairs of high-tops are thrown in a pile in the corner, their laces tangled together.

  If Demi kept her room like this, Gran would have a fit. Then again, Demi doesn’t have half the stuff that Chika does. Not even a quarter. Her school uniform and church outfit hang in the old wooden wardrobe. The other clothes she owns are mostly passed down from Malaya.

  Chika catches Demi’s eyes, round as plates, as she clocks the window sill covered in a rainbow of different eye shadows and pencils and sticky tubes of lipgloss. There are six bottles of Charlie Pink and Black.

  ‘Take one,’ says Chika.

  Demi’s hand hovers in mid-air.

  ‘Go on,’ says Chika and reaches for a roach sitting in an overflowing ashtray.

  Demi picks up the nearest can. The metal is cold to the touch. She pops off the plastic lid and smells the nozzle. It reminds her of sherbert.

  Chika flicks her lighter and takes a deep lungful of weed.

  ‘Where’s your mum?’ Demi asks.

  ‘Out.’ Chika holds the roach at arm’s length for Demi to take.

  Demi has never smoked before. She’s seen kids at school huddled in corners sharing a joint, smelled it in the toilets too. She always thought it must be nice to share a secret like that with a friend.

  ‘Thanks.’ She takes the roach between her fingers. It feels hot, in contrast to the Charlie in her other hand. She puts it to her lips and takes a small puff. The smoke burns her tongue and she spits it out, as if it were solid. Chika laughs and Demi laughs too, handing back the roach. That’s the difference with Chika and the other girls in the crew. When they laugh at you, it’s not like they want to make you look bad.

  Demi wonders if she dare ask Chika about Danny, the man outside the café. Everything about him frightened her. His voice, his eye, and the way Chika behaved around him. As soon as he left, Chika shrugged her old self back on, like a coat, and suggested they come back to hers before hooking up with the other girls. The swagger was back in her step and the smile back on her face.

  She seems totally relaxed now, blowing smoke rings at her ceiling.

  Demi opens her mouth to speak when the doorbell rings. Chika leans to the window to see who is down below.

  ‘Shit.’

  Demi’s heart leaps. Is it the man with the scar? She hopes to God it’s not. It was bad enough standing next to his car. She wouldn’t want to be in the same room as him with no way to escape. She joins Chika by the window, trying to make out the figure. Definitely a man.

  ‘Who is it?’ Demi’s voice sounds choked.

  Chika takes a deep drag and exhales a plume of smoke. ‘Police.’

  ‘How do you know?’ asks Demi.

  Chika raises her eyebrow to the question.

  Demi gasps. The thought of the man was bad enough, but being caught by the police smoking drugs is a whole lot worse. Gran will explode with fury.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ asks Demi.

  Chika stabs out the roach among twenty others and reaches for a discarded pack of chewing gum.

  ‘I’m going to find out what he wants.’ She pops a stick of gum in her mouth.

  ‘But what if he wants to come in?’ Demi hisses. ‘What if he smells the dope?’

  Chika opens the draw of her bedside table and pulls out a freezer bag full of weed. She hands it to Demi.

  ‘Put this down your trousers.’

  Demi stands there with her mouth open like a fish. Chika sighs, yanks at the waistband of Demi’s jeans and pushes the package down.

  Demi gulps, feeling the plastic wad pushed against her pubic bone.

  ‘What if I get caught?’

  Chika pulls at Demi’s hoodie, smoothing it over the obvious bump. ‘You’re only thirteen, he ain’t gonna strip search you.’

  ‘But what if he does?’ Demi grabs Chika’s arm. ‘What if he arrests me?’

  ‘Listen to me, yeah, he’s not going to touch you.’ Chika puts her hand over Demi’s and looks into her eyes. ‘But if he comes into the house and finds that stuff, he’s gonna haul my ass to jail, innit.’

  Demi can fee
l the muscles in her nostrils pulsing as they open and close.

  ‘I’ve got a record so they can send me away for a long time, you understand me?’ says Chika.

  Demi feels like she might cry. She’s terrified of being caught, but Chika is her friend. No one has looked after Demi like she does, no one else cares. The doorbell rings again, making Demi jump.

  ‘Are we family?’ asks Chika. ‘Cos you gotta decide.’

  Demi swallows hard, her eyes hot with tears.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispers.

  Chika nods and hands the ashtray to Demi. ‘Flush this while I answer the door.’

  Demi’s hands are shaking as she carries the ashtray carefully to the bathroom. It feels like the time she was one of the wise men in the nativity play at primary school. She had wanted to be an angel like all the other girls, but Mrs Thomas said she had a regal look about her, whatever that meant, and anyway, none of the white dresses would fit. So Demi, Rory Carney and Joel Evanson had been dressed in some old dressing gowns and paper crowns. Demi had been the third wise man and her job had been to carry a box of Ferrero Rocher to the manger, before delivering her only line: ‘I bring you Myrrh.’

  Unfortunately, Demi’s hands were shaking so much she dropped her gift for the baby Jesus, scattering chocolates wrapped in gold paper across the stage. Everyone had laughed and Demi had wet her pants.

  Today she won’t make any mistakes. Her sister is relying on her. She carries the ashtray across the landing to the bathroom with both hands. She doesn’t spill a single flake of ash. Then she shakes it into the bowl and flushes the chain. The sides of the ashtray are covered in a thin film, like a layer of dust. Can the police do tests on that? Demi’s not prepared to risk it and tears off a square of toilet roll. She scrunches it into a ball and wipes the ashtray thoroughly before flushing the paper away.

  The doorbell rings again and Demi hears Chika swear before thundering down the stairs to open the door.

  Demi strains her ears to listen.

  ‘Chika Mboko?’ The policeman’s voice is low and quiet. He has a strange accent.

  ‘Who wants to know?’ asks Chika.

  ‘My name is Detective Jack McNally, and I need to ask you a few questions.’

  Demi slumps on to the side of the bath. His words sound like something off the telly. She knows this must be serious.

  Something just didn’t feel right. Jack couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was a feeling gnawing in his gut.

  The girl sitting on the other side of the table, her left leg slung over the arm of her chair, so that her groin almost shouted at him from inside her jeans, looked as if the interview room at the police station was her second home. From the list of previous convictions detailed on the print-out, it more or less was.

  Jack hadn’t come across Chika before, but he knew a hundred girls just like her. Angry. Resentful. Fearless.

  She pulled a packet of Marlboro from her pocket and took out a cigarette.

  ‘Got a light?’ She held it between her teeth.

  Jack pointed to the no smoking sign on the wall.

  ‘I thought there was an exception in jail,’ she said.

  ‘You’re not in jail.’

  Chika removed the cigarette from her lips and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger.

  ‘What if I go mad without my nicotine?’ She smiled.

  ‘I think you’ll manage.’

  Chika held his gaze, then leapt forward with a scream, slamming her hands down on to the table, crushing the cigarette in her palm. The door was flung open and a uniform jumped into the room.

  ‘Everything okay?’ His eyes darted around.

  Jack nodded. ‘Just this one messing about.’

  The uniform shook his head and left, while Chika settled back into her chair, chuckling.

  Jack brushed the strands of tobacco on to the floor. ‘You finished?’

  ‘Just a little joke.’ Chika was still laughing. ‘To brighten things up.’

  ‘How about we leave the comedy to Michael McIntyre, and you and me get on with this,’ said Jack.

  Chika wagged a finger at him. ‘You ain’t no fun.’

  Jack watched Chika carefully. Everything about her was what he would have expected. The body language, the piss-taking. And yet.

  ‘Tell me where you were on Monday night,’ he said.

  Chika shrugged.

  ‘It was the night Malaya Ebola was attacked in Hightown,’ he said.

  Chika didn’t reply.

  ‘Malaya’s a friend of yours, isn’t she?’ asked Jack.

  Again, Chika said nothing.

  Jack sighed. Non-cooperation with the police was as natural to these kids as breathing. If Chika’s own mother had been beaten up, she wouldn’t have volunteered any information.

  ‘Listen,’ he said, ‘I’m not accusing you of anything.’

  Chika tossed her head back. ‘So why you come to my house and bring me down here?’

  ‘Because I need to talk to you.’ Jack leaned forward. ‘Malaya told me you knew something.’

  Chika’s eyes opened wide. ‘What she say?’

  Jack put his hand on the table and splayed his fingers. He may as well be honest.

  ‘She didn’t say anything, just your name.’ He saw Chika’s shoulders relax. ‘All I want to know is if you know anything at all about it.’

  Chika’s tongue poked out from between her lips, a startling pink against her smooth, dark skin and she blinked at him. He was wasting his time. She had no intention of telling him anything at all.

  ‘If you don’t help me, this assault on Malaya will go unpunished, and everything will just carry on as normal.’

  Her tongue was still resting on her bottom lip, obscene and slippery. Jack gulped.

  ‘Until it all happens again,’ he said, ‘and maybe next time one of you will die.’

  She didn’t react, her body still, her breathing even. She didn’t care. Life, death, it was all one and the same.

  ‘All I need is a name,’ he said. ‘I’ll do the rest.’

  Almost imperceptibly something in the air between them changed. Chika’s mind changed gear. He could almost see it. Then, like a bubble, it burst.

  ‘A name.’ His voice was hoarse.

  She stared at him for a long time, her tongue mocking him.

  ‘Tanisha McKenzie,’ she said.

  The panini was hot and soft to the touch, dusted with flour and oozing with mozzarella. Lilly took a bite, basil-infused oil sticking to her lips. She had sworn off these calorie-laden little devils after Alice reached four months and the baby weight was showing no signs of leaving its home on Lilly’s hips and thighs. Today, though, she’d allowed herself a treat. It felt like life was going her way and she deserved it.

  She took another huge bite when her mobile rang. She answered with her mouth full of food.

  ‘Lil, it’s Jack.’

  She chewed frantically. Please God, he was calling to make peace and arrange to see Alice.

  ‘Hi.’ Her voice was muffled by the food.

  ‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

  She forced the sandwich to the back of her mouth and swallowed. ‘Yeah. It’s good to hear from you.’

  He didn’t respond. Knowing Jack, he was embarrassed. She wondered if she should offer to cook him some dinner as a peace offering.

  ‘Lil,’ he said at last, ‘I’m afraid there’s a bit of a problem.’

  ‘What’s that then?’

  Jack coughed. He always did that when he was thinking what to say next. Lilly imagined he would be smoothing down his tie too, if he was wearing one.

  ‘Your client, Tanisha McKenzie,’ he said, ‘we need to speak to her again about the attack on Malaya Ebola.’

  Lilly’s heart sank.

  ‘We’ve evidence now, that she was involved,’ he said.

  ‘What evidence?’

  Jack coughed again. ‘I’ll fill you in when you get down here.’

  ‘Get down wh
ere?’

  ‘The station,’ he said. ‘Uniform are bringing McKenzie in now.’

  Jesus. This was serious.

  ‘I thought I’d just …’ He paused. ‘I thought I’d just give you a heads-up, so you can arrange things.’

  ‘Right.’

  Lilly prodded her panini. It had gone cold, the cheese like white plastic. She pushed it away, her appetite gone. At least it was good for her diet.

  Chapter Five

  ‘What on earth’s going on?’

  Annabelle leapt out of her chair as soon as Lilly entered the interview room. ‘We’d barely got back home from your office when the police came to the house and arrested Tanisha. They insisted on bringing her here in a squad car and I had to follow behind.’

  Lilly led Annabelle back to her chair and smiled at Tanisha who was sitting quietly in the corner.

  ‘We’ve been stuck in here for over half an hour and no one will tell us anything.’ Annabelle’s cheeks were crimson. ‘It’s a barbaric way to treat a child.’

  Lilly nodded. There was no point explaining to Annabelle that the police had every right to place Tanisha in a cell and make Annabelle wait outside.

  ‘They say there’s evidence that Tanisha attacked that girl, but they won’t say what,’ Annabelle gabbled. ‘I tried to explain that this was all a terrible mistake but they just don’t want to listen.’

  Lilly held up her hand to calm the situation.

  ‘I’ve spoken to the officer in the case and he tells me that a witness has placed Tanisha at the scene.’

  As soon as Lilly had arrived at the station, she’d tracked Jack down for details. All he’d been able to tell her was that another girl had stated that Tanisha had been at the rec on the night of the crime.

  ‘Is that it?’ Lilly had been astonished.

  Jack had coughed. As well he bloody might.

  ‘That’s hardly firm evidence,’ she told him.

  ‘A girl nearly died,’ he said. ‘Would you expect me to just ignore it?’

  Of course she didn’t expect that, any more than he expected Lilly to be happy about it.

  ‘This witness is apparently very clear that, on the night of the attack, Tanisha was present,’ Lilly informed them.