by Jacqui Rose
Cabhan stared at Franny, hissing through his teeth, hating the fact that the bitter anger he felt towards Nico was being directed at her. ‘What the fuck do you want me to do about it? I’m as screwed as you are. I can’t use my account because they’ll know where we are. And besides, my bank account is a business account set up by Salvatore to make sure he knows my every move.’
Franny glanced around the dark, grimy room. Two double beds, a bedside cabinet propped up by a Bible. A threadbare chair in the corner that had seen better days and an en-suite bathroom consisting of a toilet and shower, both barely working.
Refusing to be hurt by Cabhan offloading his stress onto her, Franny kept her voice quiet.
‘Cab, I know this is tough, but we’ve got to think of something. Alice has been through a massive amount of trauma; we need to get her some help. She’s a kid; she can’t just lie there. She’s hardly said a word for three whole weeks.’
‘You don’t think I can’t see that? You don’t think I’m worried about her? She’s my daughter, Franny. Jesus Christ, I’ve only known her a couple of years and look what I’ve done to her life. I just can’t think straight anymore. Every time there’s a noise I think the Russos will come walking through that door.’
Overwhelmed by guilt, Cabhan turned away from Franny, not wanting her to see him breaking down. He continued to speak, his voice cracking on every word. ‘I feel so helpless and I’m so fucking angry with myself. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’m scared. I’m scared for Alice, because this isn’t going to be over anytime soon.’
Franny grabbed hold of Cabhan’s arm, pulling him towards the door of the room, and gently pushed him outside into the warm Montana air.
Looking out towards the vast, rugged hillside, Franny smiled compassionately. ‘Let’s not talk in there, Cab, you don’t want Alice to wake up and see you upset. And we don’t want Alice to know anything about the Russos, you hear me?’
‘So what are we going to tell her?’
Franny shrugged, her eyes darting around as she kept watch on the road. Although she’d never admit it, she felt the same air of unease as Cabhan did, but the last thing he needed was for her to crumple as well. The other thing she didn’t really want to admit, not even to herself, was that she wished Alfie were here. She missed him so much, plus he would know what to do, because right now she didn’t think she was doing such a great job of looking after Cabhan or Alice. Of course, she knew she had to be strong – the problem was she didn’t feel very strong at all. ‘I don’t know, Cab. Why don’t we tell her it was a robbery?’
‘A robbery? More like a fucking homicidal maniac. Have you seen the news? Seen what they’re saying about it? They’re coming up with all sorts of ideas about how it happened. Cults, crazed killers, the other night they were even mentioning terrorists.’
‘Then that’s good, isn’t it? It means they’re not talking about Nico and they’re not talking about us. So we don’t have to tell Alice anything apart from it was a robbery, because nobody knows the truth and that’s the way it’s going to stay.’
Cabhan stared hard at Franny, his thoughts racing. ‘You can be cold sometimes. Does nothing bother you, Fran? Are you really that hard? Just wipe it away like it never happened?’
A flicker of hurt crossed through Franny’s eyes, which went unseen by Cabhan. ‘That’s not how it is.’
‘Really? Because it seems like you’re forgetting those kids, those nuns, are only dead because of me.’
‘Because of Nico, not you.’
Cabhan shook his head as he kicked at the white dusty ground in angry bemusement. ‘You’re something else, you know that?’
‘All I know is that we need to think about now, about Alice and about how we’re going to get out of this mess. The last thing we want to do is start telling Alice any more than she needs to know.’
‘So what you’re saying is tell her nothing and get on with our lives, is that it?’
Feeling edgy as a car appeared in the distance, Franny nodded. ‘If we can, that’s exactly what we do. Look, Cab, someone has to be practical about this. I’m just trying to do what’s best for Alice and if that makes me cold, that’s totally fine with me.’
Emotional, unable to look at Franny, Cabhan continued to stare at the ground. ‘I’m just so fucked off with myself. I mean, how did they know where she was? How did they find her? I was so careful, or I thought I was. I was a fool, Fran, to think that I could’ve walked away scot-free from killing Ally.’
‘Cab, it was an accident, when will you get that into your head?’
Becoming angry again, Cabhan raised his voice. ‘But the blood of so many people is on my hands. If it wasn’t for me they’d all be alive. Have you any idea how that feels, Fran?’
Gently, Franny pulled Cabhan towards her. ‘No, no, I don’t, but you’ve got to give yourself a break. Stop beating yourself up. I know it sounds heartless, but it’s happened now. There’s nothing we can do, so we need to put all our energy into getting out of this mess. On keeping Alice safe.’
Lighting a cigarette, Cabhan nodded gratefully. ‘I know you’re right, but I’ve no idea how. I’ve never felt this useless since what happened to your dad. We’re fucked, Fran.’
‘No, Cab, we’re not, I won’t let that happen. Look, I think we should go back to England. To Essex. At least there we’ve got people around us, and I don’t think they’ll come looking for us there. Once I see Alfie face-to-face, I’m sure I can make him come around.’
Cabhan, knowing Alfie very well, raised his eyebrows.
‘You sure about that? This is Alf we’re talking about. Remember, he told me if I went to work for the Russos, I’d be on my own. He’s made it very clear how he feels.’
Sounding just as unconvinced as she felt, Franny said, ‘It’ll be fine. At the moment he doesn’t know why I took the money, but once he does he’ll understand. Alfie is …’ She trailed off, not wanting to think about his reaction, especially after his last message yesterday, which was full of threats and anger. But underneath it all she could also hear his hurt, which sliced at her heart … Quickly wanting to change her train of thought because it felt too raw, too painful, Franny continued, ‘Anyway … look, we’ve got our passports and I’ve checked the flights. We can get one in four days’ time from Missoula International, then get connecting flights from there. And then it’s back to Essex.’
Taking a deep drag and letting the smoke slowly ebb out of his nose, Cab tried not to sound frustrated. ‘Hate to say it, Fran, aren’t you forgetting one thing? Money. We need money.’
Franny rested her head on Cabhan’s shoulder and sighed. ‘Look, don’t worry about that. Trust me. I’ve got an idea.’
16
‘Alfie, are you all right? I was just wanting to have a chat, run something by you, but I can leave you to it if you like.’
Back in Essex, Bree Dwyer stood in the bedroom doorway looking at Alfie as he threw his phone angrily across the room.
Not realising anyone was there and feeling startled, Alfie snapped, ‘No, I’m fine, darlin’, why wouldn’t I be?’
She walked in, her long blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders as she bent down to pick up his phone. ‘Maybe because most people who are actually fine don’t usually fling their phone away.’
Alfie gave her a half-smile, his handsome face lighting up. He shrugged. ‘You got me bang to rights there … Look, it’s just business. It pisses me off sometimes and now, with Vaughn away in Portugal trying to sort out some new contacts, I’m left to deal with everything on me own. Who knew that setting up a bookie business would be so stressful? Still, once we do it’ll all have been worth it, and some bird fucking off with my money will be just a distant memory … Listen, just ignore me, I get like this when I have me work head on.’
Passing the phone back to Alfie, Bree caught sight of the last number he’d dialled. Although she tried to stop herself, her voice edged on the accusatory. ‘Franny? She’s business now?’
Always hating being pushed on something he hadn’t been completely honest about, Alfie snarled, ‘What is this, have I suddenly found meself in Court Number One of the Old Bailey? What is it with you women, hey? It’s like you’re always looking for trouble. You can’t just be happy with the way things are.’
Bree stared at Alfie, her green eyes pools of hurt. ‘I think you’re overreacting a bit, Alf, I only—’
Alfie cut in, guilt and frustration plaguing him. ‘Am I? Really? I’m overreacting? Oh, so it was me who picked up the phone and started throwing accusations about, is it?’
‘Alf, I haven’t accused you of anything.’
Pacing, unable to stop how unreasonable he was being, Alfie pointed at her. ‘That’s not what it sounded like to me. It sounds like you think I’m going behind your back and somehow playing you against Franny.’
Bree gave a sad smile. Even though it was only very recently she had met back up with Alfie after years of not seeing him, she knew exactly what he could be like. ‘Well, are you? Cos I’d understand if you were unsure about us. Maybe this is all just a rebound, maybe I’m your rebound.’
Raging but not quite sure why, Alfie raised his voice. ‘This ain’t a game of basketball, Bree. I’m a grown man who knows my own mind. Franny’s screwed me over, it’s as simple as that. She took all my money and left me. Disappeared without even looking back.’ As Alfie said the words, a sharp pain came into his chest, a wave of feeling he didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t, he’d be damned if he acknowledge. Shit.
Bree spoke quietly. ‘But that’s what she did to you, not what she means to you.’
‘Look, she means nothing to me. It’s been over for …’ He stopped, knowing what he was about to say was a blatant lie but seeing it as an essential one. ‘For months. Me and Franny have been over for months, so you ain’t got nothing to worry about.’
Wanting to believe him but her gut telling her otherwise, Bree said, ‘That’s not what Lola said.’
Fuming, Alfie shook his head, making a mental note to speak to Lola later. ‘Oh, so now she knows more about my relationships than me, does she? She was the one sharing the bed with Franny now, was she?’
‘Alfie, listen …’
‘I don’t want to listen. You seem to have all the answers, so why bother asking?’
Bree looked at Alfie, a mixture of sadness and unease. They went back a long way, back to when she’d been a kid. Alfie had been the first person she’d ever loved and to this day she still loved him.
They’d first met when she’d been friends at school with Sandra, his little sister, and back then they’d all felt like family, especially as she didn’t have family of her own, having been placed in foster care when she was only three.
Each day when Alfie had collected Sandra from the school gates, he’d let Bree – who didn’t want to return to the abusive foster home and had nowhere else to go – tag along with them. And even though Alfie was older and had already started out in his life of crime, he’d bothered, he’d looked out for her, and she’d been grateful.
At first she’d been shy, blushing and embarrassed when he’d talked to her, but eventually she’d not only started to feel comfortable, but she’d also begun to trust him, something she’d thought she would never be able to do when it came to people.
He’d looked after her so well, caring for her, feeding her, even buying her clothes. Then one day, without warning, without giving her time to let Alfie know, the social workers had moved her away, placing her in another foster home, and she’d been devastated. It’d broken her heart. But he’d tracked her down, checking she was all right as well as getting Sandra to keep in touch; though, over time, everyone began to get on with their lives and they’d lost contact.
But things had been difficult for her, things had gone badly wrong, and she found herself trapped in a life she couldn’t escape. Until she bumped into Alfie again a short while ago and, like all those years ago, he had saved her.
The past few months of her life had been so difficult, so traumatic, and everything had begun to feel like a haze, but Alfie had let her stay with him at the house and it’d made her feel better. They’d become closer, closer than she’d ever thought possible, and he’d told her she was just what he needed, explaining that he and Franny were long over – except the more she discovered, the more she realised that things weren’t quite what they’d seemed. ‘Long over’ seemed to be turning out to be a matter of a few weeks, and although he’d insisted that Franny was in the past, she doubted it was the case.
Alfie had truly been her everything when she was a kid. Always so kind, so strong, so funny and God, how she’d loved him as she did now. And that was the problem. She never wanted to let him go again but it felt like she might have to, because she needed to know he was sure about what he wanted. The last thing she wanted, no matter how much she loved him, was for Alfie to jump into a relationship with her if his heart wasn’t in it. That she couldn’t take.
‘Bree, I ain’t bullshitting you, you mean the world to me, you always have. You make me feel good about myself. I’m angry at Franny, that’s all, and it’s true that she hurt me but it ain’t true that I want to be with her. It’s you who’s here, not her. She’s long gone. So please stop worrying, you ain’t any kind of rebound. Franny’s in the past, she ain’t coming back.’
Alfie smiled at Bree, though a sense of uncertainty filled his being that he tried to push aside. He refused to think he had rushed into anything, because Franny had just cut him out of her life like he meant nothing to her. And what difference did it make if he told Bree it’d been over for months rather than a matter of a few weeks, because ultimately the outcome was the same, wasn’t it? Franny didn’t want to be with him, so he’d do what he’d always done. He’d get on with his life and not look back. ‘So come on, what was it that you wanted to have a chat about?’
Bree shrugged, hoping that she sounded nonchalant. ‘Nothing. I can’t even remember now. Can’t have been important.’
Alfie stared back into Bree’s face, so warm and so beautiful. He smiled. ‘I know I’m hot-headed, Bree, but I don’t mean anything by it. You do know that you can tell me anything, right?’
‘Right.’ Smiling back, Bree sighed. Alfie was right, she could tell him anything – well, almost anything …
17
Alice Rose felt the warm breeze and the sun on her face as she sat on the white plastic chair outside the motel by the edge of a deserted road. With her legs tucked underneath her, she gazed out towards the mountaintops wondering why she hadn’t done what her mother had taught her. Why she hadn’t prayed hard enough, given enough thanks, and why had she lied? It was because of this that Sister Margaret was dead. Everyone was dead.
Closing her eyes to try to stop the tears from falling, she remembered the verse in the Bible from Deuteronomy, remembering her mother standing over her bed reciting the words. She could hear them now:
The Lord will send on you curses in everything you put your hand to, until you are destroyed because of the evil you have done in forsaking him. The Lord will cause you to be defeated before your enemies. The terror that will fill your heart and the sights that your eyes will see will afflict you with madness, blindness, with no one to rescue you from your enemies and they will pursue you until you are destroyed.
Putting her hands over her ears, she squeezed her eyes closed but immediately saw the images of her dead friends in her mind. She began to cry deep, painful tears. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’
As she sat, rocking in her chair, she felt her phone ring. She ignored it but it rang again, then again before finally, wiping her running nose, Alice pressed the green button on her mobile.
‘Alice?’
‘Yes?’
‘It’s Nico … I hadn’t heard from you and I was wondering if perhaps your dad had said anything about me, talked about me at all, and that’s why you hadn’t called.’
Alice swivelled round, check
ing that Franny and Cabhan were in the motel room. They’d asked her not to speak to anyone, tell anyone where she was, though when Franny had gone to do the laundry she had managed to sneak a call to her friend, Isaiah. He’d been away at Bible camp though and unable to talk. But since then it felt like Cabhan and Franny were watching her every move, she just wasn’t sure why, and when she had tried to ask them, they had just changed the subject.
‘Like what, Nico? What would he have said?’
Nico smiled to himself and said gently, ‘Oh, I don’t know, maybe he was cross we didn’t come to his party.’
Alice gasped. ‘You don’t know, do you?’
‘Don’t know what, Alice? Is everything all right? You sound like you’ve been crying, have you?’ Bursting into tears again, Alice explained the story as Nico lay on his prison bed listening quietly. She told him all about Sister Margaret and the clowns who’d terrified her, about hiding out in the field shelter and what had happened to her friends, and when she’d finally finished, feeling sick and scared at the thought of it all, she said, ‘… So you see, that’s why I didn’t call, and my phone’s been turned off most of the time. I haven’t even been able to speak to Isaiah, not that they’d let me if they knew I was trying. The only reason they haven’t taken the phone is because they trust me, or they say they do, but I don’t think that can be true, otherwise they’d tell me what was really going on.’
Playing with a toothpick between his teeth, Nico covered his yawn. ‘You poor thing, Alice, I’m so sorry, but such a brave girl. It must’ve been so traumatic for you.’
Grateful for his understanding, Alice answered softly, wishing she could feel braver than she did. ‘It was.’
‘I don’t know if your dad told you, but my daughter died just recently in an accident. I was devastated, Alice. Worst day of my life.’ He paused and, using what he knew about her from what Cabhan had told him, Nico calculatingly added, ‘But do you know what I did, Alice? I prayed.’