by Edie Baylis
Digger smiled. It was true. Seth was definitely the right one for the job, except it risked raking certain things up. “I’ll make arrangements to get in contact. On the quiet of course!”
Phil sat back in the chair. When Digger had made that frantic phone call to him all those years ago to inform him Seth was dead, he’d been shocked but not surprised. It had always been on the cards that Jane and Seth would kill each other one day. Except Seth hadn’t been dead - he was still alive, but only just.
Ok, so it had cost him an arm and a leg to pay for that surgeon he’d got on the books to patch Seth up. A punctured lung and severe blood loss wasn’t as straight forward as a standard stab wound or bullet removal. It required several weeks’ convalescence – all well away from the radar of the NHS, but it was accomplished well. That’s what he’d paid for after all.
It had a bloody tricky business to remove Seth from the flat without drawing attention, but luckily it had gone without a hitch and no one saw a thing. The place had then been cleaned up so not a trace of anything sinister remained.
Phil was just grateful Digger had found Seth in time. At first the doctor thought him dead too because he’d lost that much blood and his vitals were virtually untraceable. Another hour and it would have definitely been game over.
Once Seth was being dealt with, Jane had been their next priority. Phil had known that whatever had happened between the pair of them, the thought that she’d killed Seth would have finished the woman, so they needed to find her and tell her he’d made it against the odds. The only problem was they’d failed.
Jane had gone and got herself arrested for mowing down that Alice Cooper lookalike stalker freak of hers. They’d had to lay low so as to not to draw attention to Seth’s rehabilitation, but it had only taken less than a week for Jane to get sent down for a long stretch in the interim.
When Seth finally regained consciousness, the first word out of his mouth had been ‘Jane’ and he’d gone apeshit when he’d learnt of her incarceration. He’d been so beside himself with rage it had been very likely he’d drop them all in the shit the way he’d been behaving.
He’d have gone round town like a mad man, completely blowing the story they’d concocted about the murder, which not only would start ringing alarm bells with the police, who’d previously begun reinvestigating a string of murders Seth had been responsible for, but it would have also added a few more years to Jane’s sentence for attempted murder if the police put two and two together. On top of that it would flag the Chapter House up and none of them had wanted that.
It had taken longer than planned to arrange a visit with Jane. Phil had been up to his neck trying to keep Seth under control, so Digger had been given the job. Their brief also wanted to speak to her as he believed her sentence could be either reduced or quashed on technicalities.
Unfortunately Digger had returned from the nick with the news that the brief wouldn’t be needed. Jane had topped herself in her cell a few days prior and the prison wouldn’t even give him the details of where her body was or even where she’d been buried.
Phil had been gutted and he’d never forgiven himself for not reaching Jane in time.
Of course, he’d had to be the bearer of the bad news. It hadn’t been pretty. To see a man like Seth break like a shattered plate was one of the most painful things Phil had ever witnessed. The man had a full breakdown with fucking bells on and they’d been extremely worried for quite some time he was also going to die. Not of his wounds, which had healed quite nicely, but of a broken heart.
In the end Digger had probably saved the day by pushing to get Seth out of town. Phil knew Seth would have to go – after all he was supposed to be dead and needed to go sooner rather than later for the sake of his mind over anything else. He needed to be away from the town and any reminders and memories of Jane, which also included him and Digger.
So it had come to pass that Seth had been shipped off to the city and neither he nor Digger had seen him since.
“I REALLY DON’T WANT to, Maggie,” Sally slurred, clutching a bottle of warm white wine as she propped herself up against the sofa.
“Oh babe,” Maggie coaxed. “Come on. Please! I want to see if Dan’s there.”
Sally’s eyes widened. “No way! What if that other bloke’s with him?”
“Who? Charlie?” Maggie asked. This was getting silly. Sally needed to pull herself together. She wanted to see Dan because she really liked him and last week they’d had a good night until Sally had ruined it. Ok, so Dan hadn’t come to see her at the supermarket like he’d promised, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Think positively!
Sally cringed. She could barely bring herself to think about Charlie. She unscrewed the wine and drank straight from the bottle. It was warm, but she’d finished the first bottle before this one had had chance to chill in the fridge. It didn’t matter. She just didn’t want to think about anything anymore. All week she’d done nothing else but think.
What a tramp she was. She’d made such a fool of herself. She’d got so carried away when Charlie had kissed her. She hadn’t been kissed for over two years and she’d been so drunk and upset after seeing Jim she’d allowed herself to run with it.
She’d even managed to convince herself it was Jim kissing her like she’d always wanted him to. She cringed further. It was only when she’d cried out Jim’s name as Charlie pumped into her that she’d come to her senses.
Focusing on the man lying between her legs she’d burst out crying. After pushing him off, she’d run from the room and locked herself in the bathroom where she’d sunk to the floor in floods of tears.
She didn’t want to sleep with anyone. Only Jim. Now she’d betrayed him and he’d never ever want her back. He’d been right. She was a dirty, drunken slag and had now proved it.
Maggie was getting irritated. “For fuck’s sake babe, you need to sort this out. It’s getting stupid. Charlie was really embarrassed that night, as we all were. You acted like he was raping you! You were well up for it one minute and then went mental!”
“You don’t understand,” Sally cried, tears forming in her eyes.
“Oh yes I do! You ruined the bloody evening. Get over this Jim will you for Christ’s sake!”
Sally stood up unsteadily. “I can’t get over him, Maggie!” she screamed, red faced. “I love him!”
“Well he obviously doesn’t love you!” Maggie yelled.
Looking like she’d been slapped around the face, Sally slumped to the floor sobbing loudly.
SIXTEEN
JANE SWIGGED FROM THE vodka bottle and stared mindlessly at the wall in her flat. She was going to see Ben tonight to tell him that this constant mithering and questioning could not continue.
Since returning from the police station, instead of going back to work, she’d proceeded to get steadily drunk, but thanks to the coke she appeared on the outside at least to be lucid.
She just wanted to get on with her life – what there was of one these days - but how could she? She was forever going to be made to remember, regardless of whether she wanted to, that she could never be normal.
Jane knew she could never pretend all of that shit with Seth hadn’t happened. Not that she wanted to. How could she ever wish she’d never met him? All she wanted was for things to have played out like they should have done.
Rationally Jane knew she couldn’t change anything, but it didn’t stop her wishing. Furthermore, she was sick and tired of pretending she was something she could never be. What was the point?
Sure, she could do anything, or be whatever anyone wanted her to be, but at the end of the day when the lights went down, she alone had to look in the mirror. No matter what persona she’d created, she knew who she was and what she’d done. What she’d lost and could never reclaim.
To top it all, she was bored. She missed the thrill. The kick. The passion. Fuck. It was all so bastard pointless. Slamming down the vodka on the table, Jane got up and pulled her jacket
on. Time to go.
ERNIE GLANCED AT ELIZA scowling brazenly at him from the other side of the room. He’d deal with her in a moment.
He turned towards Matt and Pete slouching against the bar waiting for instructions. “You know what to do, so I suggest you go and fucking do it!” Ernie barked, well aware he was in a foul mood. He wasn’t going to be messed about by anyone tonight. That toe rag Benson would find out that he meant business. Fuck the silly cunt.
Nodding, Matt and Pete grabbed the holdall sitting at the side of the lounge bar and quickly left the apartment.
Hearing the front door shut, Ernie turned back to Eliza as she refilled her glass full of wine yet again. “Have you not had enough?” he snapped, feeling like punching her inflated lips.
“No I haven’t. Is there a problem?” she muttered, resenting that Ernie was still here rather than Charlie.
“Actually, there is.” Ernie stepped towards her menacingly. “I heard you refused to do the girls’ rotas today?”
Eliza rolled her eyes. It hadn’t taken those skanky bitches long to pass that through the grapevine had it? They’d have run down the stairs the minute she’d left, telling that monkey on the door, who’d have been his usual arse-lick self and put a call in to Matt or Pete. Surprise, surprise.
She looked at Ernie’s paunch hanging over his Christian Dior belt and couldn’t be arsed to think of an excuse or mollycoddle the horrible old goat any longer. “What’s the point? It’s not like they’re going to get any fucking clients is it? Even dole-bludgers wouldn’t pay for those AIDS infested slappers!” she sneered.
Eliza was too fuelled by wine and frustration to care even when she saw Ernie’s eyes narrow. “I’m fucking sick of having to deal with those trampy slags and I won’t do it anymore,” she continued, slamming her wine glass down on the top of the corner bar. “I told you to sort them out. You saw the state of the tarts you employ when I brought those two pigs around for you to play with, but did you do anything about it? No you didn’t!”
Ernie smiled. “Have you finished now?”
Eliza laughed nastily. “Yes I have. I’ve finished with it all. You’re becoming a fucking joke, Ernie. People don’t want to use Crystals anymore and you’re too wrapped up playing games with Bill-bloody-Benson to notice.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I notice though and I’m not having it. I won’t be going anywhere near that place again.”
Ernie folded his arms. He wouldn’t lose his temper with the ungrateful plastic bitch just yet. “So Eliza, what are you planning to do now then may I ask?”
Eliza scowled. It was very tempting to say she’d happily fuck off with Charlie. He’s nicer looking than you and makes me come, whereas you don’t and he has BIG plans, but she didn’t. “Well certainly nothing to do with Crystals anymore. I’m not lowering myself to deal with those sluts in that shit hole of yours any longer. No fucking way!”
Before she’d even seen it coming, Eliza’s hair was painfully grabbed and she felt a clump of her extensions snap from her scalp along with her real hair.
“You’re not lowering yourself?” Ernie roared, his face contorting into a savage snarl as he slammed Eliza backwards into the corner of the bar. “You forgetting what you are or something, you ungrateful little whore?”
“Ernie!” Eliza screamed, wide-eyed with fear. “What are you doing?”
Eyes bulging from their sockets, Ernie backhanded Eliza hard around the face, his chunky gold sovereign ring splitting the skin on her cheekbone.
“Ernie!” Eliza yelled, panicking and beginning to cry.
“Stop your fucking blathering, you selfish whore!” Grabbing her by the hair one more, Ernie dragged Eliza across the polished wooden floorboards to the middle of the lounge. “Let me remind you what you are, shall I? You’ve obviously got a short memory!”
Eliza struggled to breathe when Ernie straddled her on the floor, holding her down by her throat. His other hand undid the flies of his suit trousers. “You’re hurting me!” she squeaked, genuine tears flowing down her face.
Ernie pulled his cock from his trousers and pumped it with his hand.
“Ernie, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she begged, trying to wriggle out of his grip.
“Be quiet, you greedy tart! I’m fed up of hearing your whining voice. You’ve been a miserable bitch for weeks and now I’m going to remind you to be grateful.”
Heavily shunting forward, Ernie moved himself over Eliza’s face and shoved his cock deep into her mouth where he could feel the back of her throat on his pulsing tip. Perfect. Hearing choking noises coming from her widely-forced mouth, he quickly repositioned himself and began systematically fucking her mouth hard, grabbing her hair once more to keep her head straight.
Eliza’s eyes strained open, her nose crushed with the weight of Ernie pressing against her face. It was impossible to quell the complete and utter encompassing panic she was feeling as she struggled to breath. She gagged, unable to swallow or close her mouth enough to bite him. Oh fuck. FUCK!
“Remembering what you are yet?” Ernie growled, slamming further down Eliza’s throat. “A cheap, fucking stripper whore. A tart being paid for sex? Yes?”
Eliza could only make strange yowling noises as Ernie’s cock continued thrusting down her throat. Gagging consistently she felt the world begin to turn darker. She was going to die wasn’t she? Oh shit.
“You’re a SLUT!” Ernie roared, his thrusts getting frantic, his breathing heavy.
He watched vomit overflow from Eliza’s mouth as he came deep in her throat. Pulling out, he wiped himself down with a handkerchief and glanced disinterestedly at her lying with her head to one side, vomiting onto the floor.
Blood from the cut on Eliza’s cheek mixed with the rivulets of mascara running down her face. “State of you,” Ernie snapped and grabbed her matted, vomit-soaked hair. “I’m going to have a shower now to get your filth off me. Make sure you’re gone by the time I get out. You have ten fucking minutes.”
Slamming Eliza’s head down painfully, he stood up. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he sneered, pulling a five pound note from his leather wallet and threw it on to her as she sobbed and shook uncontrollably. “Here’s payment for your services, you whore.”
“SO YOU’VE FINALLY TURNED up have you, Marie?” Ben slurred.
Jane eyed him warily. She hadn’t expected him to be pissed up. “I said I was going to, didn’t I? Didn’t you get my message?”
Ben smiled. “Yeah I got your message, but it didn’t necessarily mean that’s what would happen.”
Jane frowned and swigged at her glass of vodka. What was his problem? She could do without him having an attitude. “I need to talk to you.”
Ben moved forward in his armchair and rested his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, I should imagine you do.” He was drunk enough to have it out with her. Shelley appearing earlier, telling him about Marie leaving the police station was the last straw. Maybe her husband was harassing her, she’d said or maybe he was a copper? Had he ever thought of that?
Ben needed to know. He felt like he’d have a breakdown if Marie didn’t tell him the truth. He couldn’t go on like this. If she levelled with him they could sort it out. Then he’d ask her to move in with him.
Jane felt the first stirrings of anger ignite. How dare Ben speak to her like this. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” she snapped.
“I was waiting for you to tell me,” Ben said getting impatient.
“Stop playing games,” Jane said curtly. “It doesn’t suit you!” She stood up and reached for her bag. There was no point trying to be rational if he was going to be like this. “I’ll speak to you another time.”
Ben unsteadily rose from the chair and lurched towards her. “Oh no you don’t, Marie! You’ll speak to me now!”
Swinging around, Jane’s eyes darkened. “You fucking what? Don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing!”
Ben faltered. He didn’t want an argument, but he needed to kn
ow what was going on. She couldn’t leave.
Jane shrugged her jacket on. “Listen, you need to stop this and leave me alone. It’s getting ridiculous. It was one night, Ben. One. We’re not going to be together. Don’t you understand?”
Cold panic rose up and wrapped itself around Ben’s heart. “What do you mean? I’m sorry Marie. I don’t want to argue.”
Jane shook her head. “I can’t give you what you want.”
Ben stepped forward, his hands reaching for hers. “But you would give me everything I want. I love you.”
Jane sighed. Oh God, she knew it. “Sorry Ben, it’s not ever going to happen.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Because you’re with someone else? I know all about it.”
Jane stepped back in astonishment. “What?”
“Yes, you must think I’m stupid. You think I don’t know what you’ve been hiding?” His mind was running away with him and didn’t know anything for a fact, but it was probably true. “You’ve been hiding things and sneaking about. You were even seen coming out of the police station today.”
Jane felt sick. Who the fuck had seen her there?
“And then you didn’t go back to the office this afternoon.”
Jane’s eyes narrowed. Shelley...
“Spending the afternoon with your husband or lover were you? Meeting him from work? How long has he been a copper, Marie? Transferred up here was he? That’s why you’re not from round here is it? That’s why you can’t be with me?” Ben was on a roll and couldn’t stop himself.
Jane clenched her fists. Ben needed to shut the fuck up. If she was still with the man she loved she wouldn’t be in this shitty city. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” she snapped, glaring at him viciously.
“I do know you’re hiding something and I want to know what it is,” Ben yelled.
Jane saw red. “And why the fuck is that? I don’t have to answer to you. I answer to no one!”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t trust you.”