Tracey leaned towards Simon and put a drunken arm around his shoulder. ‘He’s all right, is Si. No oil painting, but he’s got a good heart, ain’t ya, mate?’
‘Shut it, Trace. No need to be insulting, is there? No wonder your geezer’s blown you out. He’s probably had a gutful of you already,’ Jason hissed. He didn’t want to antagonize her, but somebody needed to shut her up.
‘Saint Jason has spoken, everyone,’ Tracey mocked. ‘Mel wants a medal for giving you chance after chance, if you want my opinion,’ Tracey retaliated, her eyes glinting dangerously. She had already decided to give him a wake-up call next week. She wanted maintenance money off the bastard. If he could afford a house in Upshire then he could afford to give her twelve hundred quid a month to help with Toby’s upkeep.
‘Right, I’ll wash up if everyone has finished eating,’ Melissa said. ‘I can’t wait to own a dishwasher again, Jason. Roll on Saturday,’ she added.
‘You ordered a dishwasher for in here? Where you going to put it?’ Tracey enquired.
Ignoring Jason’s warning look, Melissa said, ‘Not for in here. We’re moving into our new home on Saturday.’
Tracey was stunned. ‘What new home? Where you moving to?’
‘Upshire. I already told you,’ Melissa replied.
‘You didn’t say you were moving this weekend. What you done, rented a place?’ Tracey asked.
‘No. We’ve bought one. Jason had some money owed to him,’ Melissa informed her friend.
‘I’m no expert, but houses don’t go through that bloody quick,’ Tracey responded.
‘I know. That’s why it’s a good job Jason set the ball rolling while he was still inside, isn’t it, love?’ Melissa said, smiling at her husband.
Knowing what a jealous bitch Tracey was, Jason replied, ‘Yeah,’ then immediately changed the subject.
‘Who wants another drink?’ Melissa asked.
‘Sally-Ann and I will have one please, Mel,’ Simon said.
Sally-Ann sighed. She wasn’t enjoying herself at all and wanted to go home.
Simon squeezed his girlfriend’s hand, then stood up. ‘I’m just going to check on Toby. Won’t be a tick.’ Toby had been tucked up in bed by Melissa an hour or so ago.
Melissa took two tablets out the drawer. ‘I’ve still got that headache, Jase. Paint always does this to me. You’re going to have to decorate that place on your own and open all the windows to allow the smell to drift away before I move in. Makes me feel nauseous.’
Tracey grinned as she received a text message. ‘It’s Greg,’ she said.
Her expression soon turned to one of anger and disbelief as she read what Greg had to say.
‘Is he coming round?’ Melissa asked.
‘No. He fucking ain’t,’ Tracey spat, bolting into the hallway. She was crying now, tears of anger, and didn’t want anyone to clock her heartache.
‘What’s the matter?’ Simon asked, as he came down the stairs.
‘Nothing that concerns you,’ Tracey hissed, calling Greg’s number.
Melissa followed Tracey into the hallway. ‘What’s up, mate? What did Greg say?’
‘That he’s got to go away for a while and won’t be able to speak on the phone. He said he’ll make it up to me when he gets back. I just tried him again and he won’t answer,’ Tracey wept.
Melissa put her arms around Tracey. ‘He’s obviously up to you-know-what. I bet he comes back loaded and spoils you something rotten.’
‘Do you think so? Or you just saying that to make me feel better? I hate not knowing where I stand, Mel. I really like him an’ all.’ Tracey wept. ‘We had such a lovely evening last Monday. I even let him shag me up the arse, and you know I’m not a fan of that.’
‘I swear I’m not saying it just to make you feel better. Greg’s really into you, I can tell. You need to be patient and play it cool. This is the type of life you’re going to have to get used to now you’ve bagged yourself a gangster, Trace.’
‘Jason ain’t a gangster,’ Tracey reminded her pal.
‘I know that. Jason’s just a chancer,’ Melissa chuckled. ‘Now dry your eyes and come back in the kitchen. I’ll pour you another wine. It’ll make you feel better.’
By ten o’clock, Tracey was dancing around the lounge to the tunes on Melissa’s iPod. ‘Always reminded me of you, this song, Jase,’ she cackled, singing along to Richard ‘Dimples’ Fields’ ‘I’ve Got To Learn To Say No!’ The song was about a man who had women dotted about all over the place.
Jason grabbed Melissa’s arm and led her into the kitchen. ‘She’s a bastard nuisance, your mate. Call her a cab. I don’t know what Simon’s girlfriend must think. It hardly looks good on us, does it? That lush being your best pal.’
Having allowed herself a rare couple of Proseccos, Melissa was thoroughly enjoying herself. ‘Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy. You seem to be forgetting, Simon was the one who got Tracey pregnant. If his bore of a girlfriend doesn’t like our company, so be it. We don’t look bad.’
‘Keep your voice down, Sally-Ann’ll hear you,’ Jason hissed. He was truly having the night from hell. Only a few minutes ago that stupid bitch Tracey had asked out loud, ‘Toby looks nothing like Simon, does he, Jase?’ She was that drunk now she was liable to blurt out anything.
Melissa draped her arms around Jason’s neck. ‘Tracey’s upset because Greg’s gone on the missing list. I said she could stay here tonight.’
‘What did you say that for? Where’s she going to sleep? There’s no room.’
‘She can sleep in my bed with me and Toby. It’s only one night, Jase. Trace was a good friend to me while you were inside. She even gave me her car.’
‘Only because Simon bought her a new one. She ain’t your mate, Mel. She’s a jealous vindictive bitch, always has been. Did you see her face earlier when you said we were moving? Envy etched all over it.’
‘Taking about me, are ya?’ Tracey laughed, appearing at the kitchen door.
‘We’re talking about our new home. Let me get you another drink. Where’s your glass?’ Melissa asked.
Relieved to have Simon to herself for a minute, Sally-Ann asked. ‘Can we go now, please? I cannot believe you brought me here with that awful woman. I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but whatever were you thinking? She had the cheek to ask me if I had ever considered having a nose job. How rude is that?’
‘I love this song,’ Tracey shrieked, darting back into the lounge. Singing loudly to Viola Wills’s ‘Gonna Get Along Without You Now’ she grabbed Simon by the hand while thinking of Greg. ‘Dance, Si,’ she ordered.
Simon smiled. ‘No. You know I’m not much of a dancer, Trace.’
‘Oh, go on. Your bird won’t mind. You don’t mind me dancing with Si, do you, Sal?’ Tracey slurred. ‘I can assure you I don’t fancy him. Never did, to be honest,’ she laughed.
Sally-Ann stood up and grabbed her handbag. ‘A bird is something that flies in the sky, my dear. I want to go home, Simon. This very minute.’
‘All right. Keep your hair on,’ Tracey cackled.
Simon stood up and put his hands on Sally-Ann’s shoulders. ‘Trace don’t mean no harm. She’s just very drunk.’
‘If you won’t take me home, I’ll get a taxi,’ Sally-Ann snapped, her face contorted with rage.
‘I’ll take you.’ Simon walked into the kitchen. ‘Sally-Ann wants to go, so I’m going to make a move now,’ he told Melissa and Jason. ‘Thanks for inviting us over.’
‘Jase, come and dance with me. Another record that reminds me of you. ’Cause you know it all, don’tcha?’ Tracey laughed.
Hearing the opening chords of Stevie Wonder’s ‘He’s Misstra Know-It-All’, Jason grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter.
‘Where you going?’ Melissa asked.
‘Simon’s. Your notright friend – you fucking entertain her. I’ve had enough.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Melissa Rampling swung her legs over the edge of the
bed. She’d been unable to sleep at all last night, but didn’t feel too tired. Today was the day all the furniture she’d ordered online would be delivered to her lovely new home. The beginning of her new life.
Switching her phone on, Melissa sighed as the messages started to bleep. She didn’t usually turn it off, but Tracey had been driving her mad ever since she’d stayed at hers the other evening. She still hadn’t spoken to Greg and wanted to talk about him constantly. Was he in love with her? Was he married? Was he robbing a bank? Melissa had played along with the conversation for as long as she could and had then lost the will to live. Tracey thought she was clever, but in reality was as thick as two short planks.
Melissa jumped as her phone rang. It was Jason, so she answered it. ‘You all right? How’s the decorating coming along? Did you sleep well?’ she gabbled. She’d driven over to the house yesterday, had taken a blow-up bed, quilt, plus boxes of their personal belongings.
‘I’ve only painted the lounge and kitchen so far. I might ring around today; see if I can get a pal to help me.’
‘No, don’t,’ Melissa snapped. ‘Just paint our bedroom and the kids’. We can do the rest another time. I just want to get in there now.’
‘OK. Was comfortable, that bed you brought over. I slept like a log. Thanks.’
‘Looks like we’ll both be sleeping on that. Our headboard’s arriving today, but we’ve got to wait until next week for the actual bed and mattress.’
‘As long as I’m snuggled up next to you, babe, I’m happy,’ Jason replied honestly. He’d had the right hump the other evening when he’d stormed off to Simon’s house. It had seemed to him that Melissa had encouraged Tracey’s ridiculous behaviour rather than putting a stop to it. They’d made up the following day though and Mel had promised him that Tracey wouldn’t turn up at their new home whenever the mood took her fancy. ‘This move is a fresh start for us. No visitors unless invited,’ she’d assured him.
‘Any deliveries arrived yet? The kitchen table and chairs are coming this afternoon, but all the other stuff I ordered could be there at any time.’
Jason chuckled. ‘It’s only just gone seven. I know you’re excited, but I’m not sure delivery drivers start this early.’
‘They do. When I ordered our garden furniture at Repton Park, it turned up about half seven. Make sure you don’t have the music on too loud in case you don’t hear the doorbell.’
‘I left the front door open all day yesterday to get rid of the smell of paint for you. I’ll do the same today. There’s sod-all to nick and we’re tucked away from the rest of the world.’
Melissa smiled. ‘Perfect.’
Tracey Thompson was in a terrible mood. She had taken Melissa’s advice to play it cool with Greg, but the uncertainty of where he was, what he was up to and the not knowing if they were still a couple or not was driving her insane.
Toby entered his mother’s bedroom and held his arms out for a cuddle.
‘Go and play with your toys,’ Tracey snapped.
‘Can we see Auntie Mel today, Mummy?’ Toby asked.
‘No. Your father’s picking you up soon. Now go and play with your toys until he gets here,’ Tracey shouted. That was another thing she was thoroughly pissed off about. She’d driven to Melissa and Jason’s new house the other day. Not only was it much bigger and nicer than hers, she couldn’t see how the hell they could afford it when Jason had only just come out of prison. Mel had met her there and shown her the inside. It was stunning, and it really grated on her that, no matter what went wrong in Mel’s life, she always seemed to come up smelling of bloody roses. It just wasn’t fair. She never had that type of luck.
Deciding she’d played it cool for far too long, Tracey picked up her mobile. Greg shouldn’t toy with her emotions the way he had. She needed to ask him outright if their relationship was over, would rather hear the worst than be led up the garden path any longer. Anything was preferable to wasting another day drinking wine and daydreaming of Greg being holed up in an underground vault with some other blokes, tunnelling his way towards hidden treasures.
Debating what she was going to say, Tracey took the plunge. She was horrified by the words that greeted her ears: ‘You have dialled an incorrect number.’
Imagining the future, Melissa was lounging on a sun bed catching some rays. Donte was tired, was still in bed, so she’d brought her iPod and headphones out in the garden for company. Singing away to Maria Muldaur’s ‘Midnight at the Oasis’, Melissa didn’t hear her neighbour Ann calling her at first.
‘Mel, Mel,’ Ann yelled again.
Spotting Ann waving her arms, Melissa sat up and took her headphones off. ‘You OK, Ann?’
‘Yes. But the police are knocking on your door, love. Four of them, there are. What you been up to?’
Melissa felt ice run through her veins. Surely nothing had gone wrong? Not now. She dashed inside the house to be met by her son, who was standing at the top of the stairs partially dressed. ‘Don’t open it. Please don’t open it, Mum,’ Donte begged.
‘Open up,’ Melissa heard a voice bellow. She looked up at Donte. ‘Why? What have you done?’
‘Nothing.’
‘If you don’t open the door, we’ll break it down,’ another voice boomed.
‘No, Mum. Noooo,’ Donte shrieked. Panicking, he bolted barefoot into the garden.
Four policemen burst into the house and as Donte tried to climb over the fence, he was grabbed by the ankles and landed on the grass with a thump.
‘Whatever’s going on? Leave him alone. He’s only a child,’ Melissa yelled, pushing one of the policemen in the chest.
An officer handcuffed Donte and rolled him on to his front. ‘Donte Brooks, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Tyrone Dark. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’
Melissa was stunned. ‘Murder! Who is Tyrone Dark?’ she mumbled. This couldn’t be happening. Especially today of all days. There must be some mistake.
‘It weren’t me, man. I didn’t do nothing,’ Donte sobbed. He was scared now, petrified. Had one of the others grassed on him? he wondered.
An officer turned to Melissa. ‘Seeing as, in the eyes of the law, your son is still classed as a minor, would you like to accompany him to the station?’
Melissa didn’t know if she was coming or going. This was her baby, the boy she had given birth to. How could he be a murderer? This was beyond ridiculous. ‘Erm, yes. Let me put some clothes on. You’ve got this all wrong, you know. My boy wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
One of the officers laughed. ‘No disrespect, love. But if I had a pound for every mother who’d said that to me, I’d be rich by now.’
Singing away at the top of his voice while painting the ceiling, Jason never heard the doorbell chime.
‘Excuse me, mate. Delivery,’ a bloke said, knocking on the bedroom door.
Jason clambered down off the ladder and paused the music. ‘Sorry, pal. I was miles away. What you got for us?’ he asked, following the guy down the stairs.
The delivery driver looked at his worksheet. ‘Erm, a chest of drawers and a bedside cabinet. Where do you want them?’
‘Just shove ’em in the lounge for now, please. That’s already been painted. Mind the door frame though. It might still be a bit wet.’
When the driver left, Jason decided to open all the boxes that had already been delivered. He smiled when he saw the child’s outdoor swing. Mel had obviously ordered it for when Toby stayed over, but hopefully one day in the not too distant future, their own child would enjoy playing with it.
The interview room at Barkingside police station reminded Melissa of that awful time when Jason was arrested. She’d never believed she would one day come back here for something even more terrifying, but that was the situation she currently found herself in. She had known Donte hadn’t been himself of lat
e, but not even in her worst nightmares would it have occurred to her that he’d be capable of taking another lad’s life. He was a good boy at heart, or so she’d stupidly thought.
‘Where is the blue tracksuit and the knife, Donte?’ DI Travis asked again.
‘I left the tracksuit at my mate’s and I dunno nothing about no knife,’ Donte lied. His heart was beating wildly and he wished Jason was here with him. He would know what to say and do. His mother was useless. The silly cow kept urging him to tell the truth.
Knowing full well her son was lying, Melissa hissed, ‘Tell the man the truth, Donte. The police know you were there – they have you on CCTV, running away.’
Donte glared at his mother. ‘Why don’t you shut the fuck up? You know nothing, woman.’
Wondering what on earth she had given birth to, Melissa punched her son in the arm. ‘Show some respect, you little arsehole,’ she hissed.
Instead of using the phone call she was offered to call Jason, Melissa had rung Simon. She knew he’d get Donte a decent solicitor, but Simon hadn’t answered so she’d had to leave a message.
‘What mate’s house did you leave your tracksuit at, Donte?’ Travis asked.
‘I dunno. I was with friends at a party somewhere in Dagenham. I was drunk and got in bed with some girl. When I woke up, my tracksuit had gone. It was new. Someone nicked it,’ Donte fibbed.
‘What address was the party held at?’ Travis was going through the motions. It was clear the lad was lying and would hopefully trip himself up soon. He certainly wasn’t the brightest spark ever to be interviewed.
‘I was drunk. It was a flat in a big block. I don’t know the address ’cause I’ve never been there before. He was a black lad who lived there.’
‘You said it was a house a minute ago. Make your mind up, lad. Was it a house or a flat?’ Travis spat.
‘A flat. It was definitely a flat.’
Life of Crime Page 36