by Roberta Kray
Eddie gave a sigh, picked up the papers and stared at them. ‘Shit, babe, there’s a lot of words here.’
It occurred to Sadie, as she watched his eyes glaze over, that rather than being up early, Eddie probably hadn’t even been to bed yet. He had made a habit of all-nighters when the two of them were together and she suspected things hadn’t changed much. ‘Long night?’ she asked.
‘We went to see a band in Camden and then…’ As if his memory was blurred he pondered for a moment before giving a shrug. ‘A few bars, a party, and then back here with some mates.’
Sadie gave a wry smile. Yes, it was the same old Eddie all right. Still living for the day and partying every night. He’d still be doing the same thing, she suspected, when he was drawing his pension.
Eddie dropped the papers again and jumped up from the chair. ‘I need coffee,’ he said. ‘I can’t do this without coffee. Do you want one? Go on, you may as well.’
‘All right,’ she said, realising that nothing was likely to happen in a hurry. ‘Milk, no sugar.’
‘You don’t need to tell me. I remember.’
‘Things change,’ she said.
He stopped by the door, turned and looked at her. ‘Some things,’ he said, ‘not everything.’
While he was gone, Sadie had time to deliberate on how she felt about seeing him again. She was surprised by her lack of animosity. Somehow, now that they were face to face, she couldn’t summon up the energy to be really mad any more. Eddie was weak and feckless and selfish. He would always be that way. He was incapable of fidelity or honesty, and complaining about it was as pointless as complaining that the sea was wet.
She glanced around the room, which didn’t improve on a second inspection. A layer of dust covered everything, the carpet was stained and a pall of cigarette smoke hung in the air. There was a poster of The Clash pinned to the wall, one corner curling where the drawing pin had fallen out.
Eddie came back with two mugs of coffee and placed one on the table in front of her. ‘So, are you with anyone now?’
Sadie didn’t answer his question. ‘So, is it serious with Kelly?’
Eddie gave one of his shrugs. ‘She’s a laugh.’
Sadie found it hard to believe how intensely she had once loved him. It had been a young, mad passion, a fire that had blazed too brightly. In those heady days she had not been able to imagine life without him. She took a sip of coffee, staring at his face from over the rim of her mug. Where had all those feelings gone? There was nothing left but resignation and a soft lingering resentment. ‘Well, so long as she’s a laugh.’
Eddie sat back, watching her carefully. ‘I got in a bit of a mess, to be honest.’
‘Huh?’
‘Back then, when we were together. I shouldn’t have done a runner like that. It just all got on top of me.’
‘Poor Eddie,’ she said.
‘I’m a bit strapped at the moment but I’ll pay you back, every penny… when I get some cash.’
‘I won’t hold my breath.’
‘Since when did you get so cynical?’
Sadie widened her eyes. ‘Do you really want to go there?’
Eddie put out his fag and immediately lit another. ‘Still, we had some good times, didn’t we? It wasn’t all bad.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Just most of it.’
Eddie flashed another of his wide smiles, placing his free hand on his heart. ‘Ah, don’t say that, babe. I’ll tell you what, why don’t we go and grab some breakfast and have a proper catch-up?’
‘Because I’ve got a train to catch. Just sign the papers, will you?’
Eddie flicked his cigarette in the general direction of the ashtray. ‘You know, I don’t think I’ve actually got a pen in the flat.’
Sadie took a biro out of her bag and threw it into his lap. ‘Here.’
But still he procrastinated. ‘Are you sure you really want to do this?’
‘I’m sure.’
He tapped the pen against his teeth. ‘It’s kind of final, though, isn’t it?’
‘That’s the point.’
‘I dunno,’ he said. ‘Maybe this isn’t the right time.’
Exasperated, Sadie decided to resort to desperate measures. ‘Have you been in touch with Theresa?’
Eddie assumed his innocent expression again. ‘Who?’
‘Theresa Rimmer. You remember – the girl who lived down the street in Tufnell Park, the girl you were shagging behind my back. Well, one of them anyway. Or maybe you can’t remember all their names.’
Eddie glanced away, his eyes shifty.
‘She came looking for you,’ Sadie continued, ‘but then she would, wouldn’t she, her being pregnant and all.’
‘I doubt if it was mine,’ he said. ‘She’d fuck anything, that one.’
‘Two of a kind, then.’
Eddie smirked. ‘It was a mistake. C’mon, we all make mistakes.’
‘You could always do a paternity test, sort it out once and for all. Perhaps I should give her a ring, let her know where you’re living now.’
Eddie’s face paled, his smirk quickly fading. ‘You wouldn’t.’
Sadie gave a nod. ‘Why not?’ There was something cheap, something low, about blackmailing him over an unwanted child, but she couldn’t see any other way of getting him to cooperate. If she had to play dirty, she would. She stared meaningfully towards the divorce papers. ‘I mean, it’s not as though you’re doing anything to help me.’
And finally Eddie gave up the fight. Snatching up the papers he signed on the dotted line and thrust the document gracelessly into her hand. ‘Since when did you become so hard, Sadie Wise? You used to be a nice sweet girl.’
‘No, I used to be a nice sweet gullible girl.’ She stashed the papers in her bag and smiled. ‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’
As she rose to her feet, Eddie said, ‘You’re not going, are you? Stay a while. Finish your coffee at least.’
Sadie shook her head. ‘Sorry. Like I said, I’ve got a train to catch.’
He followed her into the hallway and leaned against the wall as she opened the door. ‘Don’t I even get a proper goodbye?’
Sadie paused, gazed at his face for a moment – one last memory – and then put her fingers to her lips and blew him a kiss. ‘Bye, Eddie. Take care.’
‘I’ll see you around.’
But Sadie knew that was never going to happen. This was the last goodbye. She was moving on. She was finally closing the door on the past.
10
Mona Farrell turned the Beretta around in her fingers, feeling the smooth coolness of the metal. It was a small, neat, lightweight gun that could easily be carried around in a handbag. Point and shoot. That’s all you had to do. What could be easier? She aimed the gun at the pottery dog sitting on the mantelpiece.
‘Bang bang,’ she said. ‘You’re dead.’
Mona smiled. She’d had the gun for three years now, ever since the burglary. She kept it under the floorboards in her bedroom, safely hidden, only taking it out when she knew she wouldn’t be disturbed. Some people might view it as chance that she had found the weapon lying in the hall, dropped by the thieves who had swept through the house (relieving her mother of her jewellery and her father of his extensive gun collection), but she saw it as fate. God had wanted her to have it. So she had picked it up, put it in her pocket and no one had been any the wiser.
Mona wandered over to the window and gazed out at the snow that had been falling for hours. A white blanket covered the garden. Usually Sundays were boring, long and slow, tainted by the knowledge that Monday was to follow. And Mondays, historically, had always meant school or college or work. She had not got on well with any of these things. They simply didn’t suit her. She’d been expelled from more schools than she cared to remember, dropped out of numerous courses and been sacked from every job she’d ever been hired for.
It was no big deal, though. She was only twenty-three. Why should she be shackled to a desk for the
rest of her life? Her father banged on about responsibility, but she couldn’t see what was responsible about blowing another human being limb from limb. No, she would find her own way in her own time. Maybe she’d start her own business. Maybe she’d go into business with Sadie. That would be fun, just the two of them.
Mona pressed her nose against the glass. Thinking of Sadie reminded her of what she’d done that day, of what had made this Sunday different to all the others. It was a good thing she’d got to Kellston early or she might have missed the boat. She’d only been there ten minutes when Sadie had come out of Oaklands and headed for the high street. Following her hadn’t been so easy this time. The road had been quiet, almost deserted, and she’d had to keep her distance.
Still, it had worked out well in the end. And in a way it had added to the thrill. Every step she’d taken, she’d been worried that Sadie would glance over her shoulder and spot her. But her friend must have had other things on her mind. Unlike at the market when Sadie had definitely felt her presence, this time she’d been completely oblivious.
Sadie had hesitated when she’d reached the Mansfield. Mona had been able to tell that she didn’t want to go in there, and who could blame her? It was clearly a sink estate with nothing to recommend it other than cheap accommodation and a constant supply of marijuana. It wasn’t the kind of place that any self-respecting girl would want to venture into.
And then… and then… Sadie had turned around and started walking straight back towards her. That had been a moment! She could still recall how her heart had almost leapt out of her chest. There was nowhere to go. Sadie was going to see her. She had to. And when she did, how the hell was she going to explain what she was doing there?
But then Sadie had stopped and thought, before retracing her steps. It had been like a miracle, like victory snatched from the jaws of defeat. And that was when Mona had known that it was meant to be. Of course it was. It was a sign that she was doing the right thing, that God was on her side.
She had hung back as Sadie walked up the path to Carlton House and went through the front door. That had been another tricky moment. She’d had no idea whether Sadie would take the stairs or the lift or which floor she was visiting. All she could do was watch the tower, hoping that Sadie would appear behind the railings at some point.
Mona had passed an anxious couple of minutes, concerned that she wasn’t watching the right side of the building. What if Sadie came out round the back? In the event, she needn’t have worried. Her friend had suddenly surfaced on the ninth floor, stood for a while gazing out at the estate and then continued walking to the left.
The door had been answered by a blonde girl. Mona could see the brightness of her hair but couldn’t make out her features clearly. There had been a brief conversation before a man appeared and that man, she had known, was Eddie Wise. She wondered what had made her so sure. Well, it had to be, didn’t it? Why else would Sadie be visiting this crummy estate? Mona had counted off the doors from right to left so she would know how to find the flat again.
Fifteen minutes later, Sadie had come out and walked straight back to Oaklands. She hadn’t been there long before she’d reappeared with her holdall and crossed the street to the station. She’d looked happy, relaxed, as if she’d got what she’d wanted. Mona had watched her leave with a mingling of sadness and regret. It was a shame that she was going, but it wouldn’t be for ever.
Mona moved away from the window and sat down on the bed, placing the Beretta beside her. She ran her finger along the cool metal barrel. It would be easy for Sadie, she thought. It would be quick. To kill with a gun was a straightforward way of disposing of someone. One tiny pull on the trigger and it was all over. Nothing prolonged, nothing messy. You didn’t even have to look into your victim’s eyes.
‘Bang bang,’ she murmured again.
For her, it had not been so straightforward. Worried that the police might be able to link the two murders through forensics or ballistics or whatever it was called, she hadn’t dared use the Beretta. Anyway, it was too risky to fire a gun in a tower block – the sound would echo through the thin walls and floors – so she’d gone instead for something more discreet. Eddie Wise, who hadn’t thought twice about inviting a stranger into his flat, had looked more surprised than afraid as she’d slid the blade between his ribs.
Mona glanced down at the gun, a smile creeping back on to her lips. There was a certain irony to the fact that in a month or two her father would be murdered by his own weapon. And that, she thought, was a shining example of divine justice.
11
Sadie woke, rolled over and stretched out her arm but the other side of the double bed was empty. She gave a sigh, wishing that Joel was there. The smell of him was still on her, the feel of his touch imprinted on her skin. The memory of last night, of every kiss, of every gentle caress, lingered in her flesh. He must have left for work. Yes, she had a vague recollection of him leaning over to kiss her goodbye. Even though he wasn’t with her, there was something comforting about knowing he wasn’t far away. His workroom was only downstairs. Two flights of stairs and she could see his face again.
A thin whitish light slipped through a gap in the curtains, telling her that the snow was still lying. She snuggled into the warmth of the blankets. Soon she would get up, but there wasn’t any hurry. Anticipating that it would take longer than it had to track down Eddie, she’d taken the whole week off work and now had seven free days to do with as she wished.
Sadie yawned and smiled, luxuriating in the pleasure of being back in her own bed. It was odd how journeys made her feel so tired, as if they sucked out all her energy. She had spent most of yesterday on trains and tubes and buses. She thought back to her visit to the Mansfield estate and the satisfying outcome. She still found it hard to believe that Eddie had finally signed the papers. The first thing she was going to do today was to pop them in the post to her solicitor.
Sadie’s only regret was that she hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye to Velma. She had knocked gently but got no response. Aware that her neighbour had come in late, she hadn’t persisted. Instead she’d slipped a note under the door thanking her for all her help.
Mrs Cuthbert’s response on hearing that she was leaving Oaklands had been quick and sharp. Her rheumy eyes had flashed defiantly. ‘There’s no refunds, dear.’
‘That’s okay.’
‘We let the rooms by the week so —’
‘It’s fine. I understand.’ Sadie had been in too good a mood to quibble over a few wasted quid. It was a price worth paying to get away from Kellston.
Mrs Cuthbert had given her a hard stare as if the combination of an early departure and no argument over a refund was virtually unknown and therefore highly suspicious. ‘Not in any kind of trouble, are you?’
‘No, no trouble at all. I just had something to sort out and I’ve done it faster than I thought.’
Sadie had left for the station immediately after this brief conversation. Travelling on a Sunday was a pain – there had been long tedious waits between connections – but she was still glad that she had done it. Being back in Haverlea, back with Joel, was the best feeling in the world.
Sadie stayed in bed for another five minutes before forcing herself to get up. She took a hot shower and got dressed in her old faded jeans and a cream sweater. In the kitchen she wrapped her hands around a mug of coffee and gazed out of the window at the snowy landscape.