Her eyes raced around the crowd and beyond, finally seeing Maggie Hunter in the distance. She prickled but realised she needed to catch the woman’s eye. When she did, she watched Maggie lower hers to the ground. Gina waited for her to lift them again and gave her a small nod in acknowledgement. Mother to mother, she understood her pain. They were both suffering for the actions of their daughters and Maggie had lost her daughter in a way too. Stacey would be locked up for a good many years to come. Gina couldn’t stay bitter at the thought that Maggie could always visit her daughter; always see her when she was released. What had happened would change Stacey too. She needed help; maybe she would get it, and maybe she wouldn’t accept it – who knew? But it would be a long time before Stacey came back to the Mitchell Estate, if she ever did.
Maggie Hunter nodded back before disappearing behind a crowd of teenagers who had only just arrived.
Claire took her hand. ‘Come on, Mum.’
Gina looked at the coffin in front of them by the chapel doors, even now not wanting to believe that one of her daughters was lying inside it. The family had said their final goodbyes last night and Gina felt more at peace now. She’d kissed Rachel’s cold forehead and left her in the hands of the angels – she wasn’t sure whether God existed or not. But she hoped that Rachel had gone to somewhere far better than here. And she hoped to see her there someday in the future.
By her side, Claire took a single red rose from the undertaker. Gina gave her hand a quick squeeze as they waited for everyone in the funeral party to get out of their cars and stand behind them.
‘I feel sick, Mum,’ whispered Claire.
‘Me, too.’ Gina took hold of Pete’s hand on her other side. Danny stood to his side.
The notes from the chorus of We are Young rang out from inside the tiny chapel, their cue to move forward. Gina knew that some people wouldn’t have heard of the band Fun but the song had been Claire’s choice. It meant a lot to her.
With her remaining daughter hanging onto her arm, Gina swallowed, blinking away tears. Finally, she managed to put one foot in front of the other and go in.
By the time they were back in Stanley Avenue, Gina was drained of emotion as well as tears. She’d refused to have the wake anywhere but the house – didn’t want Pete getting drunk and shouting his mouth off about the Hunter family. It would only cause more ill-feeling.
Quite a few friends had come back to the house for the wake. It was nearing six thirty now; most people had gone but a few of the neighbours were there.
‘It’s been a tough day for you, our Gina,’ Barbara stopped her on the way back to the kitchen with a pile of empty plates. ‘You look worn out.’
‘I’m knackered, Mum,’ she admitted. ‘But I’ll keep on going until everyone has left.’
Claire was in the kitchen, sitting with Caren and John. They were laughing about something, and instantly stopped when they saw Gina.
‘It’s okay,’ said Gina, understanding their guilt.
‘Claire was telling us about some of the things she and Rachel got up to.’
Gina smiled. ‘About the times they got into scrapes or the ‘just plain silly’ times?’
‘A bit of both actually,’ said Claire. All of a sudden, her laughter changed to tears. Gina rushed over and hugged her.
‘It’s okay to be happy, love. Rachel wouldn’t want us to be sad all the time.’
‘I miss her, Mum,’ sobbed Claire. ‘I can’t live without her.’
‘Yes, you can. Things will seem different for a while, that’s all.’
‘But you don’t understand. I feel like I’m missing my shadow.’
Pete staggered into the room. He burped loudly, noticing the scowl that came from Caren.
‘What’s the matter with you lot?’ He wiped his mouth with his hand and sniggered. ‘Cheer up, why don’t you!’
‘Don’t be so disrespectful!’ snapped Gina.
‘It was a joke, for Chrissake…’ Pete raised his hands in surrender, splashing lager from his can over the floor.
‘I can’t believe you’re wasted. Go upstairs and sleep it off,’ Gina told him coolly. ‘You’re embarrassing.’
‘Hey, Miss Fancy Pants,’ Pete staggered towards Caren. ‘Did you enjoy seeing Sam Harvey?’ he stopped within inches of her face.
‘Get away from me!’ Caren pushed him, trying not to heave at the stench of his breath.
‘You think you’re so high and mighty across the other side of the road. Well, I showed you, didn’t I?’
‘Showed me what?’
‘Did it shatter your perfect life when you found out John had a kid when you failed to give him any?’
‘That’s enough,’ warned Gina.
‘It’s – it’s none of your business,’ said Caren, the word failed hanging in the air.
‘But I want to hear. How much did Sam coming back on the scene ruin your happy marriage?’
‘We have a strong relationship – something as stupid as that wouldn’t have torn us apart.’
‘You are so stupid,’ Gina said to Pete.
‘Huh?’ Pete spun round to face Gina, staggering slightly but keeping his balance.
‘I know, you sad bastard,’ she snapped.
Pete frowned as he steadied himself again.
‘I knew too – that Sam wasn’t John’s son,’ said Caren. ‘One minute Sam was there; the next he never turned up when he arranged another meeting. The girls had told me his age and I was deciding what –’
‘I don’t mean that,’ Gina interrupted. She looked pointedly at Pete, ‘I mean that I know who Sam’s father is.’
‘What’s going on?’ John was looking from one to the other in confusion.
‘Claire, tell them how old Sam is,’ said Gina.
‘He’s eighteen.’
‘But Donna told us he was twenty-one,’ John said to Pete.
‘He tried to trick you,’ said Gina.
‘Sam’s your son,’ Pete said to John.
‘Liar!’ Gina screamed. ‘Sam’s your son!’
‘What?’ Caren cried.
‘Yuck!’ said Claire. ‘You mean I’ve kissed my own brother!’
‘So,’ John tried to link the pieces together, ‘if Sam isn’t my son, then why did he turn up with Donna to say that he was?’
‘He paid Sam fifty quid to pretend that he was your son, thinking it would cause arguments between you, take away what you had and maybe spilt you up. But once Sam, being the loser that he is, saw your house and what he could thieve, he decided to rob it too.’
Pete looked confused. ‘I didn’t tell him to do that.’
‘I overheard him talking when I was at The Workshop. All the damage he caused is down to you.’
‘My God, you piece of lowlife.’ Caren shook her head in disbelief. ‘Have you any idea how we felt after that burglary?’
‘That stupid little fucker,’ said Pete. ‘If –’
John stood up quickly. ‘Why, you –’ In his haste, the chair scraped across the floor as he lunged at Pete.
‘John, no!’ Caren pulled him back.
‘I’m warning you,’ John pointed at him. ‘Stay away from me and stay away from my family.’
Gina left them to it. What did she care? Pete had done his worse by her. The neighbours were already standing in the doorway, coming to see what the commotion was about. This new revelation would be all around the estate tomorrow.
‘Is it true, Dad?’ Claire asked once John and Caren had gone. ‘Sam is your son?’
‘Of course it’s true,’ said Gina. ‘Your dad can never keep his dick in his trousers.’
‘That’s because you never give me any – you’re like a lump of lard.’
‘Zip it,’ she told him. ‘For years I’ve put up with you and your inconsiderate ways, your philandering and your selfishness; letting you get away with everything. Good old Gina – why should I give a fuck about her? Well, you were right about one thing. I must have been dim to put up with it. But a
t least I can make amends for my stupidity now. I want you out of this house.’
‘You can’t make me –’
Gina launched herself at him. ‘Get out of my HOUSE!’
Pete wrestled to grab her wrists as she pummelled at his chest.
‘I hate you, you useless piece of shit. If it wasn’t for you, we –’
‘Stop it!’ yelled Claire. ‘STOP IT!’ She began to scream at the top of her voice, taking a step backwards, and another and another until she touched the wall behind.
Everyone stopped as Claire pointed a finger at her mum and dad.
‘You two,’ her hand shook visibly, ‘that’s where we get it from. Rachel’s dead and you’re still fighting. I hate you. I hate you both.’
Pete turned away from them. Even drunk, Claire’s words had got to him.
All at once, Gina saw herself through her child’s eyes. They had to stop all this rage escaping. It wasn’t good for any of them. Suddenly, she knew what she must do – the only thing she could do. But first she needed to comfort her daughter.
‘I’m sorry, love.’ Gina put out her arms. ‘Come here.’
Claire slapped them away and pushed past her. ‘I hate you and I hate him. I’m leaving and I’m never coming back!’
And with that, she ran of the house.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Dear Mason and Jamie
I am sorry for letting you down. I love you so much but I know that you will be better off with people who love you and can take care of you and make you happy. I hope that you find that and I hope that you will always look out for one another. Lots of love always, Mum x
Dear Gina
I am so sorry that I couldn’t save Rachel. She was so young and didn’t deserve to die like that. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. I felt so helpless watching her slip away, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to stop the blood. I hope that Claire will find peace, as I hope you will too, one day.
Ruth
Dear Caren
Thank you so much for being my friend. You were there for me when I had no one to talk to. I’m sorry to let you down but I can’t see a way out apart from this. The dark cloud is back. No one will miss me anyway.
Ruth
Ruth picked up another photo. It had been taken when Mason was two; Jamie was a baby. They were sitting on a bench either side of their dad. She ran a finger down the image of Glenn, remembering his smile, his laughter, the way he made her feel. Tears dripped onto the glass. God, she loved him so much.
Another photo. She was holding a newly born Mason, Glenn had his arm around her. She topped up her glass with vodka and drunk it quickly. Her eyes were getting weary now as she brought the photo closer. It had been such a happy time. But Ruth didn’t smile through her tears.
Paper balls were strewn across the kitchen floor. She’d started to write notes to the boys and given up many times before finally settling on what she had written. In simple terms, she loved them and she needed them to know that. What more was there to say? She was sorry but they wouldn’t care about that. She’d already ruined their lives; she had no right to ruin them further. They weren’t her children now. Someone else was looking after them.
She picked up another photo: another faded memory. Ruth was standing by the edge of the sea, her hand trying to keep her skirt from flailing around in the wind. She remembered how she and Glenn had walked hand in hand into the cold water, then ran out laughing as the waves took their breath away.
‘Glenn,’ she sobbed. How had she survived for so long when life wasn’t worth living without him? Gina was right when she’d told her she was bad through to her core. She grabbed a handful of tablets and washed them down quickly with vodka, coughing a few times in her haste.
‘Not long now, Glenn,’ she slurred. Her head touched the table and the glass fell from her hand. ‘Tired… Not long now.’
Gina left it until eight o’clock before she went around to Caren’s house. Claire hadn’t come home yet but Gina had a sneaky feeling where she might be.
‘Is she here?’ she asked Caren when she answered the door.
Caren nodded, pressed a finger to her lips and then beckoned her in. Gina followed her through to the living room. Claire was curled up asleep on the settee. Even closed, her eyes seemed swollen. She looked so young; so fragile.
‘They both told me how much better it was over here than at our house,’ said Gina sadly. ‘You made a real impression on them.’
‘Oh, please,’ Caren waved the comment away with her hand. ‘All teenagers think someone else’s mum is better than theirs.’
‘You are better than me, in every way.’
‘No, I’m not. I’ve made mistakes too. I just don’t go round broadcasting them to everyone.’
Gina tried to look offended but failed. She smiled shyly; she knew exactly what Caren meant. They went through to the kitchen and sat down at the table.
‘Can I ask you something?’ she started.
‘Sounds ominous,’ said Caren.
‘What do you see when you look at me?’
Caren stared at her. ‘Are you trying to trick me?’
‘No, I’d like to know.’
Caren paused for a moment. ‘Last month I would have said that I see someone in a loveless marriage, who’s under the thumb where her husband is concerned; who hasn’t got any control of her kids and who isn’t bothered how she looks or what anyone else thinks of her.’
‘Wow, don’t hold back.’ Gina almost grunted.
‘Like I said, a month ago I would have said all that. But now, you’re changing.’
‘Changing?’
‘Last month, you would have taken great pleasure in telling me what Pete had set up with Sam Harvey. But instead, you kept it to yourself rather than blurt it out.’
‘I used it to get even with him!’
‘Only because you’ve finally realised he’s a loser and that’s a massive step in the right direction.’
‘Watch it,’ she said. ‘I have a great upper cut.’ But Gina was smiling.
‘And you volunteered at The Workshop – now that I am impressed with.’
‘It was only a few hours… but I really did enjoy it. I enjoyed the days with the babies but really I loved hanging round with the kids. The ones in their early teens, you know, thirteen or fourteen.’
‘I think you should continue with it. They’ll listen to you. Maybe you can make a difference on the estate – especially now.’ Caren reached across the table and squeezed Gina’s hand. It took them both by surprise but none of them moved. ‘Through Rachel’s death, maybe you could talk to the kids about gangs and fighting and belonging. It all comes down to peer pressure to conform. Make them see there’s more to life.’
Gina didn’t know what to say.
‘I think it’s what you need right now,’ Caren continued. ‘I like Josie Mellor, she’s a good sort. I – I thought about offering to volunteer myself actually.’
‘You?’ Gina sat back in amazement.
‘Yes, I have some free time until I get my business up and running. Maybe I could help out.’
‘Well, I have to admit, you’ve changed too.’
‘I had to, being back on the estate.’
‘Was it tough, to lose your house like that?’
Caren sighed. ‘It was the worst thing that ever happened to us. But me and John got through it – it’s always a good sign if you can do that.’ She laughed and held up a hand. ‘And look what we got instead!’
‘Yeah, worn out flooring, chipped doors and damp patches.’
‘And nuisance neighbours.’
They smiled at one another.
‘How about letting me help you get through this?’ Caren suggested.
‘It’s worth a shot.’
‘How about me,’ Caren paused, ‘and Ruth?’
Gina sighed. ‘I can’t.’
‘It wasn’t her fault what happened with Pete.’
‘But you blame her.’
‘I don’t really.’
‘So, help her. She’s grieving too.’
‘It’s not the same.’
‘Of course it’s not the same,’ said Caren. ‘But she has lost two children in a way. What she did was so brave, hoping to give her boys a decent chance somewhere else.’
‘But to give them to Children’s Services? That’s beyond cruel.’
‘Can’t you see, Gina? Imagine how low she must have felt to have no other choice than that. No one to talk to; no one to get her through it.’
Gina lowered her eyes. She hadn’t thought of it like that. In actual fact, until now, she’d never thought of anyone but herself.
‘She needs friends,’ Caren pushed. ‘We all do.’
The kitchen door opened and a sleepy Claire came in. Gina smiled and patted her knee. As big as she was, Claire sat in her lap and wrapped her arms around her mum’s neck.
‘Would you like a coffee?’ Caren asked.
‘Please.’ Claire nodded.
Caren flicked on the kettle and then picked up her phone, only to find it switched off. She must have forgotten to turn it back on after they left the crematorium. ‘Let me give Ruth a quick ring,’ she said, ‘see if she’s okay. She looked a bit upset this morning.’
‘And then shall we go home afterwards?’ Gina asked Claire.
Claire nodded. ‘Mum, can I change bedrooms and sleep in Danny’s old room?’
‘Of course you can, love. Although, I have plans that we need to discuss tomorrow.’
‘Ruth? Hi, it’s Caren. Just ringing to see how you are.’
‘Am fine.’
Caren sighed. She sounded drunk again. ‘Do you want me to pop round for a while?’
Silence.
‘Ruth, are you okay?’
Gina and Claire looked up at Caren.
‘Ruth?’
‘I… want to… time to… time to go. I want to –’
‘You’re not making sense. Christ, Ruth how much drink have you had tonight?’
Fighting for Survival (The Estate, Book 3) Page 26