‘So what shall we do now?’ she asked her.
‘I might go home and get cleaned up. Mum’ll kill me if she sees me like this.’
Rachel shrugged, knowing when she was beat. As they walked off, she felt that familiar stirring inside. The fight of their lives was brewing: she knew this was the beginning. It was going to be tough, for Claire especially, but right now, all she could think about was that she was ready.
Bring it on.
The following afternoon, Ruth sat at the kitchen table. The darkness was falling. Although she could feel and see the warning signs, she knew there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it. Being with Martin meant she’d had to hide it, control it; keep it well hidden. But since she’d moved to Stanley Avenue without him, it had begun to control her again. She knew it was going to consume her completely soon.
It was half past two: another half hour and she’d have to make the trek to fetch the boys from school. Well now, wouldn’t that be exciting? Yeah, a real bundle of laughs. Mason had hardly said a word to her since her outburst the other night, no matter how much she’d smiled, cajoled, apologised and pleaded with him. Jamie hadn’t been too bad; he was too young to understand why his mum was happy one minute and screaming at him the next. In his own little world, he was just glad when she was happy.
But Mason ignoring her made Ruth realise how terrible it must be for them. She ran a hand through unwashed hair. What must they think of her – a drunken mother who cut herself, screamed at them all the time when all they were doing was enjoying their childhood? Would they compare her to the mothers of the kids at school? The perfect mothers with their perfect lives, their perfect homes, their perfect husbands.
Glenn, Glenn, Glenn. That stupid cow Gina had brought him hurtling to the front of her mind again. She tapped a foot on the floor persistently. What would he think of her now? Would Glenn hang his head in shame? Would he grab her by the shoulders and shake her? Would he talk some sense into her or would he realise that it was too late? All she wanted was to feel his arms around her, be drawn into his embrace and held there. It was the only place she’d ever felt safe. Without that, there was nowhere to hide.
She reached for the small plastic bottle in front of her as the oppressive silence began to draw her in. Her hand clasped around it tightly. Next to it was the rest of the vodka that she’d started the previous night. She pulled that nearer too.
It would be so easy. A pill: a swig of vodka. Another pill: another swill of vodka. How long would it take? She peered at the clock: twenty to three. Who would care enough to see why she hadn’t turned up to collect Mason and Jamie? Who else knew of her existence? She thought of her mum, alone since her dad died two years ago. They’d fallen out over something so stupid, so trivial that she couldn’t remember what. It was probably about Martin, it usually was.
The knock on the front door made her visibly jump. She turned her head slightly. Through the open kitchen door, she could see through to the hallway. It was her way back into the real world.
She stayed sitting at the table.
Another knock: she ignored that too, watching as a white card came through the letter box and fluttered to the floor moments later. There wasn’t another knock after that. But, for now, the spell had been broken. Ruth hid the bottle and the pills, wiped a cloth quickly around her face and reached for her keys. She picked the card up on her way out. It was from the housing officer, that bloody Josie Mellor again.
Ruth threw it in the wheelie bin as she left the house.
Josie had her suspicions that Ruth was at home that afternoon. But, then again, it was near time for the school run. Maybe if she’d got there a little sooner as planned, she would have caught her. But she’d been dragged into another discussion about Susan Harrison in Derek Place, the state of her welfare as well as her two kids and the property. She’d tried to get in there too, on several occasions, but each time had been, well, shooed away, to put it politely.
With a sense of dread, she walked up the path towards Gina Bradley’s front door. She rapped on it sharply. As usual, Gina opened it in her own time.
‘For fuck’s sake, not you again,’ she cried.
‘Yes, it’s me –’
‘What have they done this time?’ Gina didn’t wait for an answer. She went back into the living room.
‘Do you know anything about the fight on the square the other night?’ Josie asked as she followed behind.
‘Nope.’ Gina sat down and pressed play on the TV remote control.
Josie perched on the armchair and sighed - the place was a tip as usual. ‘Gina, I don’t know how many times I’m going to sit here and warn you about the girls’ behaviour.’
‘Then don’t.’
‘You’re happy if they end up in a detention centre?’
‘It would get them off my back.’ Gina glared at Josie. ‘And it would get you off my back too.’
Josie leaned forward and pressed the mute button on the remote control.
‘Hey!’ Gina protested, raising her hands in the air. ‘You can’t do that!’
‘I need you to listen to me. The CCTV camera clearly shows the fight but not which two girls dragged the others to the floor. However, there were lots of people around to witness the event.’
‘And?’
‘And the police are going to be talking to them.’
‘And these witnesses are going to make statements, are they?’
Josie sighed. ‘I’m not sure, but –’
‘Thought as much.’
‘The police can charge without witness statements now there is evidence on film.’
‘If they can distinguish one girl from another, like you say.’ Gina closed her eyes and pinched the top of her nose. ‘I do my best. What more do you want from me?’
Josie’s silence spoke volumes. She knew she wouldn’t get through to Gina, nor her layabout husband, but she couldn’t let go. If she could make Gina see sense, if she could change her attitude, then maybe it would rub off on the girls. Even if Gina got to one of them, they were so close they could both change. She decided to switch tactics.
‘Have you ever thought about coming along to any of the sessions at The Workshop or the community house?’
Gina snorted. ‘And join your goody-goody tribe? I don’t think so.’
‘Why not? I reckon it’d be good for you to get out and do something different.’
‘Happy doing what I do, thanks.’
‘Are you really?’
Gina shrugged.
‘But don’t you ever get bored?’
‘There’s plenty to watch on the telly.’
‘Well, maybe if you got involved in The Workshop sessions, then the girls might come along too. I’m always crying out for volunteers and someone like you, who knows the estate, might –’
Gina laughed then. ‘You have no idea.’
‘Well, I –’
‘You don’t have kids, do you?’
‘Not yet,’ she replied.
‘Leaving it a little late, aren’t we?’
‘That’s none of your business.’
‘And what me and my girls do is none of your business either.’
Josie sighed in frustration. ‘Clearly it’s not worth me visiting to see if I can help out.’
‘Clearly.’ Gina was already reaching for the remote control.
‘Okay, have it your way. No doubt the next people to call will be the police and they won’t take any crap from you. You’ve had your chance to get involved and start acting as you should. I can’t do any more for you if –’
‘See yourself out, will you?’ Gina interrupted.
‘Fine,’ snapped Josie. ‘But don’t say that I didn’t try.’
Once Josie had gone, her words hanging heavy in the air, Gina felt tears prick her eyes. She knew Josie was only trying to help but what the hell did she know about her life really? She folded her arms and put her feet up on the coffee table, flicking through the TV channels
again. The program she was watching before she was so rudely interrupted had finished.
Damn that woman! How come every time Josie Mellor came knocking, the minute she left she’d start getting all weepy? Hadn’t she got anything good to say about Gina? So what if her girls were the scum of the estate – how was that her fault? Weren’t all teens hard to control? Every time she picked up a newspaper, there was always some story or another to be read about it. What made her girls so different? And this was the Mitchell Estate – did Josie really expect anything to change?
She knew she sounded defeatist but living this life for so long had taken its toll on her. She would never have any faith, any belief that her life could change for the better. It would only get worse, year after year after year.
She glanced at the clock to find it was nearly tea time. Her stomach felt like her throat had been cut. What did she fancy? A nice fresh chicken salad with crusty bread? A nice bowl of homemade soup? She stretched her arms above her head, her tears long ago banished. Stuff it: she’d never change. It wasn’t in her to lose weight and look all girlie. Better to welcome her inner fat demon with open arms.
She’d go down to the chippy later on.
CHAPTER TWELVE
After their triumph two nights earlier, Rachel and Claire were on a high. Shell and Hayley had kept well away from them and the rest of the gang. The other members had been in awe of what they’d done. Rachel still felt that her rightful place was at the head of the gang. She was top dog.
So when the counter attack came, they were completely caught off guard. It happened when they turned the corner of Stanley Avenue onto Davy Road. Feeling safe in their own territory, they hadn’t expected anyone to assault them there. Fists went flying, feet kicked out. Claire took a punch to the nose and dropped to her knees. Rachel was dragged to the floor by two girls: it was hard to tell who, their hoods tied up by their chins. She took punch after punch, two onto one overpowering her.
Claire jumped at the nearest girl. She pawed at the hood, finally managing to pull it back. Wondering which bitch she’d got hold of out of Hayley and Shell, she was shocked at who she revealed.
‘Charlie!’
‘You traitor!’ Rachel punched the side of her head.
Charlie staggered back. As a natural lull came, the two of them stood side by side, wondering who the hell was hidden by the other hood. When Leanne revealed herself, Rachel gasped.
‘You!’ Claire launched herself at her. But Rachel stood in front of her to block her way.
‘Leave it!’ she said.
‘But they can’t get –’
‘I said leave it!’
Claire stood glaring at them. She finally calmed down enough for Rachel to let go of her.
‘Why?’ she turned to Charlie. She’d thought Charlie was a true friend. How could she have done that to them?
‘It’s our initiation test,’ said Charlie.
Rachel understood then. ‘You’ve gone back to Stacey, haven’t you?’
‘I was never with her in the first place.’
‘But you’re with her now?’
Charlie nodded.
‘And you?’ Rachel looked at Leanne.
She nodded too.
‘Which means the gangs are equal now.’
‘Which is exactly what Stacey intended,’ said Leanne. ‘She wants us all back, in one gang, or…’
‘Or?’ said Rachel.
Leanne shrugged. ‘Surely you can work that one out for yourself. Come on, Charlie. We’re finished here.’
With all the noise as the girls let themselves in through the back door, Gina jumped clean out of the forty winks she was having between episodes of Coronation Street. She rushed through to the kitchen to see what all the commotion was.
‘I’ll kill her,’ Rachel said, reaching for a tea towel. ‘I’ll fucking kill her! Charlie, of all people!’
‘What the hell’s going on?’ Gina demanded.
Rachel kept her back towards Gina as she ran the tap and wet the towel underneath it. Claire looked down to the floor. She knew it had been a bad idea to come home but Rachel’s top lip had split. There was blood all down her jumper.
‘Rachel?’ said Gina.
‘It’s nothing,’ she said.
Gina marched over and tilted Rachel’s chin up to the light. ‘You’ve been fighting again.’ She sighed. ‘Will you two ever learn!’
‘It wasn’t our fault,’ Claire protested, folding her arms. ‘We didn’t start it.’
Gina raised her eyebrows. ‘No, but I bet you started the fight that got you this beating.’
Rachel held the cloth to her mouth. ‘It wasn’t us!’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Gina pointed to the table. ‘Sit, both of you.’ No one moved. ‘I said SIT!’
The two girls flounced across the room and sat down. Claire pushed aside the dirty tea plates that wouldn’t be washed until they were needed again. She sniffed: her nose was beginning to swell already.
Gina sat down across from them. ‘What’s going on with you two?’ she asked. ‘All of a sudden you’ve grown into monsters. More than that, you’re acting like animals. Not much better than a pack of wild dogs.’ She pointed at Rachel, holding the towel to her mouth. ‘It’s horrible to see you looking like this, but what’s worse, is how you got like that. Fighting in the street – where were you exactly?’
‘At the bottom of the avenue. The bitches were waiting for us when we turned into Davy Road.’
‘Have you any idea how nasty that looks – to see girls fighting?’
‘It’s common, Mum,’ said Rachel. ‘You need to get with the times.’
‘I don’t give a shit if it’s common! All I know is that it’s disgusting and you need to pack it in. Christ, you leave school in a few months: who’s going to employ you if you continue to act like children?’
‘Like anyone will employ us anyway.’ Claire sniggered. ‘Just think, Mum, come summer time, we’ll be here and under your feet.’
Gina stared at Claire, trying not to give her inner thoughts away. That wasn’t something she’d ever look forward to but she knew it would probably be the reality of the situation. Both girls spent more time away from school than in lessons so she knew they most probably wouldn’t make the grades for their exams – that is if she could get them to turn up to take any.
‘But don’t you have any ambitions? Anything you want to do when you leave school?’
‘The only ambition I have right now is to ram my fist into Stacey Hunter’s face.’
‘Rachel!’
‘She’s dead when I get hold of her. I’m going to rip every hair from her head if she starts after mine. But not before I’ve thrown a few punches at her and –’
‘If you don’t shut up with the big talk, I’ll reach over there and give you a crack myself!’
Rachel stood up so quickly that her chair fell to the floor. ‘I’ve had enough of this. I’m off out.’
‘No, you’re not.’ Gina looked at each one of them in turn. ‘You two are grounded.’
‘That’s not fair,’ Claire protested.
‘Until you can go out without causing trouble, I think –’
‘But we didn’t start anything!’
‘They’ll get back at you though and… have you any idea what can happen in the heat of the moment? It could all end in tears.’
‘The only tears will be coming from Stacey when I punch her lights out,’ declared Rachel. She moved towards the door.
Gina followed her, pulling her back before she made it outside. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘Out!’
‘And I’ve just told you that you’re grounded, for the rest of the week.’
‘Let go of me,’ said Rachel.
‘Come on, Rach.’ Claire stood up. ‘Let’s go listen to some music.’
But Rachel was intent on staring her mother down. ‘Let go of me,’ she repeated.
When Gina didn’t relinquish her grip,
she saw Rachel’s free hand curl up into a fist and aim it at her face. In the nick of time, she blocked it with her forearm and then slapped Rachel across the face.
Rachel’s eyes widened and filled with tears.
Gina moved her head closer. ‘Don’t you dare, do you hear me? Don’t you fucking DARE! I may be smaller than you, I may be older than you, but I am your mother and you will respect me for that. When I say you’re grounded, I mean it. Now get up to your room, and I don’t want to see you,’ she turned to Claire, who was looking visibly shocked, ‘either of you, until tomorrow morning. Is that clear?’
Hearing their footsteps thundering up the stairs, Gina sat down at the table again and reached for a cigarette. She finally controlled her shaking hands enough to light it. The nicotine hit calmed her down momentarily. She ran a hand through her hair: it was like watching Danny growing up all over again, but this time she had two of them. She inhaled again and again as panic struck her. Would she be able to stay in control when they got that little bit older?
It was ten to nine: where was Pete? She hadn’t seen him since that morning when he’d gone out to sign on for his benefits. Damn the man for not being around to help her deal with this. She didn’t dare risk nipping around to her mum’s to talk about what had happened; she knew the minute she disappeared, they’d be out again, seeking revenge on Stacey. It was bound to happen; she wasn’t stupid enough to think otherwise. But for now, the hope was to calm down the situation. If Rachel and Claire went after Stacey, one of them could end up getting seriously hurt.
Gina sighed into the empty room. She took a last couple of drags from her cigarette before putting it out. Then she dropped to her knees on the kitchen floor, opened the door to the sink unit and fumbled about at the back of it. Hidden behind numerous cleaning materials that went untouched, she found half a bottle of vodka. Not bothering with a glass, she twisted off the cap and knocked back a considerable amount in one swig. Damn, that tasted good.
Fighting for Survival (The Estate, Book 3) Page 11