Don't Tell Meg Trilogy Box Set
Page 56
‘It’s £597 to bring it up to date, and another £199 would make it £796 to get next month’s payment sorted as well,’ said the young guy.
Alex did a quick mental calculation and wrote a cheque for £995.
‘That’s two months’ grace,’ she said as she handed it to him. ‘Can you receipt it for me, please?’
He wrote out the receipt, and went to hand it to Alex, but gave it to me instead. He was on his way.
‘Thanks, Alex. I’ll pay you back, honestly.’
‘Pete, forget it! I understand. It’s not like you’re some pisshead or anything. Once you get sorted out with Meg, it’ll all be fine. I know that. It’s yours if you want it, but I know you. You’ll probably pay back every penny. Just understand that I like helping you. It’s good for me. I earn too much money anyway.’
She’d already bought the first-class train tickets, so the amount that I owed her now, totted up in my head, was way more than a thousand pounds. Once the house was gone, I’d make my financial recovery within a couple of months. It wasn’t getting out of hand just yet.
‘Can we get food on a Saturday?’ Alex asked as we made ourselves comfortable on the train, ‘or are we condemned to a UK weekend service?’
‘I think it’s hot drinks only,’ I replied. ‘I can’t see any evidence of food anywhere.’
We’d got a couple of facing seats. It was only me and Alex, and the train was quiet. No football fans either, I couldn’t believe our luck.
‘You know, Pete, I really don’t mind helping out with the money side of things. We’re in this together. I’m always your friend, however things turn out with Meg.’
I reached out and squeezed her hand. She made it so simple, and I never felt that she was judging me. Every ounce of my body wanted to reject her financial help, but paying off those loan arrears would help me tremendously.
‘You’ve always been so generous with me, Pete. Like that time I had depression when we were together. Most guys would have dumped me and moved on. You were always there for me. I owe you.’
It was so long since we’d been through that. How many years? Too many to count. I’d never experienced depression before. Alex had been struck by a terrible bout of it, and this was even before we lost the baby.
‘How are things now? I never asked. I’m sorry. You seem okay these days. Does it ever come back to plague you?’
Some new passengers struggled by with their suitcases, and Alex let them pass before answering.
‘I still get it, but I’m getting better at living with it. I know that it’s going to pass these days, but that first time it knocked me for six.’
I thought back to how things were and how low she’d been. I never thought of Alex as being the depressive type; maybe it’s because she always seemed so bright and upbeat. Perhaps that was the curse though – perhaps that was how she paid. I was a miserable old git all the time, but I was never troubled by dark thoughts like Alex.
‘You never ... you didn’t try to ...’
‘No, that was the only time. It frightened me as much as it did you. I don’t know what made me do it. I couldn’t see any way out. It’s ridiculous. I had you – you were lovely, but I just wanted it to stop.’
I squeezed her hand again. I hadn’t thought about that event for some time, but we’d certainly clocked up some air miles in our short time together as a couple.
As we sat chatting on the train, speeding at over 120 mph towards our destination, neither of us realised that there were still much darker times ahead.
Chapter Six
1992 Meg Stewart’s baby arrived four months after her condition was identified. She had no power in the situation and no advocate who stood up for her choices. A whirlwind of adult decisions was swirling around her, and a mediated adoption was deemed the best course of action. The father was dead, and she was below the age of consent, with her whole life in front of her. It would be best if the baby were adopted.
For Meg it was one of the lowest points in her life. The birth was painful and traumatic; she barely got to see the baby before it was whisked away and the paperwork completed on her behalf – facilitated by the efficient social services offices, headed by Russell Black.
When Meg returned to Woodlands Edge her eyes were red from crying. She’d be monitored for postnatal depression. The tears were not wholly unexpected; her hormones had taken a pounding as a result of giving birth. She returned from the hospital late at night, with Debbie already fast asleep and snoring. She sobbed quietly in her bed, desperate to see her friend Hannah, craving somebody to talk to about what had happened.
With Bob Taylor now gone and David and Jacob dead, Hannah was the only person that she could confide in. Gary Maxwell had even screwed that up for her. She was alone and inconsolable and very soon moved onto a regime of antidepressants prescribed by a doctor who’d seen those symptoms many times before. She was young and resilient, and she’d soon recover and understand that it was best for everybody for the baby to be taken away.
Life at the children’s home carried on as normal. The more considerate support workers fussed over Meg for a while, but she rejected them, feeling hostile and betrayed. The other kids reached out to her, but she brushed them aside. How could they understand what she’d been through? They were too young; she’d become an adult very quickly, yet here she was, still at the mercy of the care system. She longed for the day when she was eighteen and could walk out of that place. She was spoiled goods from an adoption point of view, difficult to place. Most adoptive parents wanted a ready-made, happy family. It took a particular kind of person to adopt a teenager with Meg’s history.
But then it came, out of the blue. At last it was a chance to leave that place. Many adoption opportunities came and went – either it would fall through for the adopting adults due to some lifestyle or domestic issue, or they would baulk at taking the children at the last minute. The kids in Woodlands Edge weren’t as pretty as the babies and toddlers in other homes. They were the world’s unwanted: spotty, lanky, uncertain of their place in the world, and hostile. Who would want them, when even their birth parents did not?
Meg and Hannah became aware of the meetings at first. Thomas Yates and his wife Mavis were talking to Gary in his office. Then the getting-to-know-you sessions began. Thomas and Mavis were going to adopt Hannah and Meg together. They were ecstatic at the news, hardly daring to imagine that they might finally escape from the home. Together, too. They would become adoptive sisters. They would be able to share a room again. Hannah would at last be free of the horrors of the night.
But Gary Maxwell had been waiting. He knew how to be patient. Meg was no longer under the scrutiny of the medical profession, and her post-pregnancy check-ups were over at last. The baby was gone. She was just another normal teenage girl, and it was time to remind her who was in charge. Her pregnancy had caused him some considerable discomfort. He was hoping to be rid of her soon, along with her friend, but not before he’d fed the monster.
It had been a pleasant evening for Meg. She’d been given the all clear from the hospital. The antidepressants were doing their job and she hoped to be off them soon. They’d had a good laugh in the lounge, watching TV. It was Top of the Pops night – they’d all been getting excited over an appearance by Take That! For once Meg was a giggling teenager laughing about which member of the group she fancied most. The other girls were incredulous – how could she possibly like Mark? Robbie had the best six-pack.
Hannah knew though. Mark reminded her friend of David. That’s why he was her favourite. The conversation grew raucous; there were shrieks of laughter and even some of the boys joined in, attempting to impress the girls with their renditions of ‘Relight My Fire’. All the time, in the corner, Debbie Simmonds watched them. Always she was on the edges, not quite being let in. She fancied Gary, but she would never have dared to admit that, let alone get involved in the laughter. Instead she watched from her chair in the corner, wishing that she could be one o
f them.
Her advantageous position meant that she was able to make a sharp exit when Gary Maxwell entered the room. She sensed him before she saw him. Like a wasp coming to disrupt a summer picnic, he’d detected fun and was coming to mess it all up. He smiled at her as he entered the room, and then she left.
The laughter quietened the minute he came in, and the youngsters turned back to the TV, waiting to see what he’d come for. He said nothing, but stood in the heart of the gathered group and pretended to watch the television. All conversation ended, and one by one the kids began to drift away. Meg was one of the last to leave.
‘See you later, Meg. You get to join Hannah tonight,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Just my way of saying thank you for the trouble you caused me. Mr Black has taken quite a shine to you. He requested your file personally. I think he likes you.’
Meg felt the energy drain from her. They were coming for her. She’d managed to avoid the night-time trips because of her pregnancy. He’d waited until the eyes of the medical profession were averted, and now the bastard was coming for her.
She wanted to run. She’d seen what it did to Hannah. Every time she was taken, it would drain a little bit of life from her. When Gary had separated her and Hannah, she’d been able to pretend it wasn’t happening. They never took Debbie at night, she seemed safe from it all. What could she do? Where could she turn? She had nobody – the other kids were as trapped as she was.
Gary left the room. Meg waited to make sure that he’d gone, and then slipped into the dining room. The meals were prepared for them at the home, so she had to slip into the back area to access the kitchen. Looking around to make sure that nobody had seen her, she drew a large kitchen knife out of the drawer and tucked it carefully into the waistband of her jeans. She was still wearing looser clothes, and if she walked carefully, she’d get it to her room undetected. When they came for her, she’d go for them. They would never take her or Hannah ever again. She’d sworn to protect Hannah and now she would. She had her strength back. That bastard Gary Maxwell would regret the day he decided to come for her.
Debbie was snoring already when she got up to the bedroom. That girl could sleep. She removed the knife from under her clothes and placed it beneath her pillow. She stayed fully dressed. Although she didn’t know exactly what happened when her friends were taken away in the night, her instincts told her what was going on. She didn’t know the details, but she knew what was going to happen that night would be nothing like the tenderness she’d shared with David.
She waited. She dared not sleep, although she was tired. She concentrated on Debbie’s nocturnal grunts; they helped to prevent her from drifting off. Then it began. It was past midnight and doors began to open along the corridor. Those youngsters who’d been chosen got hurriedly dressed and then waited on the landing. She could hear the running engine of the minibus outside.
She heard footsteps outside the door and then Hannah’s voice.
‘Please Gary, not Meg. Leave her, she’s been through enough.’
‘Wait with the others,’ was all he said.
Meg’s hand slid under her pillow and she clutched the knife. The door opened slowly and quietly, the light from the corridor flooding into the room. Debbie stirred and turned over, still grunting and snoring.
Gary was with another man. She’d never seen him before.
‘It’s time to go, Meg,’ Gary whispered quietly. He was as casual as if he were asking her to come downstairs to look at her presents on the morning of her birthday. She gripped the knife tightly and took a leaf out of Debbie’s book by looking as if she was still sleeping. She could see enough through her eyelids to see the other man coming towards her. He got so close that she could smell the booze and cigarettes on his breath. He waited and watched, believing her to be asleep.
‘I can see why Russell wanted this one,’ he sneered.
Meg felt his hand moving towards her leg. Instinctively she pulled the knife out from under the pillow and drove it into the man’s hand.
‘You fucking little bitch!’ he screamed at her, examining his wound.
Meg leapt out of bed, pointing the kitchen knife in front of her, waving it between Gary and the other man, whose hand was bleeding badly.
‘Meg, calm down, this isn’t going to end well. Hand the knife to me.’
Gary attempted to defuse the situation. He was not used to the youngsters fighting back.
‘Piss off, Gary. Just leave us alone! Leave us alone! I’ll slit your fucking throat if you come anywhere near me!’ she screamed back at him. Debbie was awake now, watching the situation as it played out in front of her. Meg had her back to Debbie. Gary and the other man would cautiously step forward then back, testing Meg’s resolve, uncertain as to how far she’d go to protect herself. Meg was out of control now, furious in her anger, lashing out at both men like a small animal cornered and ready to give itself up for dead.
Her screaming was beginning to disturb the other children. Gary was keen to resolve the situation and calm things down.
‘It’s okay, Meg. It’s okay, we’ll leave you tonight. Give me the knife and we’ll leave your room. Okay? Deal? Just hand me the knife ...’
Meg lowered the knife a little, wondering whether to trust these men. She’d acted in haste but couldn’t see a way out of this. She could hear the commotion along the hallway. She didn’t know what to do. She just wanted to stop them.
She barely registered what happened next. Debbie grabbed the knife from behind her, she was completely unprepared for it. As the knife was removed from her hand, Gary and the other man moved forward. The second man thrust his unhurt fist into Meg’s stomach and she dropped to the ground.
‘Vicious bitch!’ he scowled at her, and then went to the sink to wrap the handtowel around his wounded hand.
‘No bruises, Max,’ Gary warned. ‘Particularly with this one.’
‘Here Gary,’ Debbie smiled. ‘I got the knife for you.’
‘Good girl, Debs,’ Gary replied. ‘I’ll come up and see you later when the others have gone.’
She smiled meekly at him, like a stray dog that had been thrown a scrap of rotten meat.
Gary helped Meg up to her feet and told her to join the others. Her stomach ached with the pain of what the man had done, but she knew she was beaten. There was nothing she could do now.
As she walked out onto the main landing, none of the children spoke. The teasing and playfulness of the early evening had been replaced by the passive acceptance of what was about to happen next. Meg began to cry. Hannah sidled up to her and held her hand.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I tried to protect you. I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, Meg.’
As they filed down the stairs, Meg caught a movement in the shadows at the far end of the entrance hall. It was Thomas Yates on the late shift watching them being guided out to the minibus in the dead of night. Boys and girls, not one of them over eighteen years of age, and two of those youngsters would soon become his adoptive daughters.
For a moment, Meg thought he was going to intervene. She really believed that he was going to come to their rescue. But Gary got there first, as he stepped out from beyond the staircase, unsure what to say or do.
‘Ah, Thomas, good to see you on the late shift. You should have finished well over an hour ago, shouldn’t you? Is that pipe still leaking? Make sure you finish a couple of hours earlier tomorrow. Mark it on your time sheet.’
Thomas looked uncertain. The challenge to Gary was on his lips, but it wouldn’t come out.
‘Get yourself tidied up and be on your way,’ Gary continued. ‘You’ll be getting a family of your own soon, and you won’t want to stay this late when you have a young family to return to. You need to put family first, Thomas.’
Meg looked Thomas directly in the eyes before she was ushered out of the front door towards the minibus. He was her only hope, the man who was about to become her adoptive father – the paperwork should be confirmed
any day now.
‘Yes, Mr Maxwell. I’ll get cleaned up here and be on my way. Good night, Mr Maxwell, and thank you. Yes, I’ll add an extra hour or two to my time sheet.’
Gary Maxwell smirked as he closed the door behind the youngsters, releasing them to the mercies of the men who were escorting them into the darkness. By the time Yates got his new daughters, they’d both be broken anyway.
They wouldn’t be back for at least three hours. Russell Black and Tony Dodds ran their parties early into the morning. He’d got time to go and see Debs. She was his special girl.
Meg walked over to the minibus, still holding on tightly to Hannah’s hand, as if it were the last remaining thing that connected her to a normal life. As she stepped up into her seat, she vowed that these men would pay for what they were doing. She would have her revenge on everybody who had betrayed them. She was powerless in that moment, but there would be a time when she could take control again. And when that time came she’d come to these men of her own free will. Then she’d slit their fucking throats.
Milton Keynes looked like somebody needed to weed it. As we exited the station, all I could see was a wide expanse of concrete and paving slabs. Fortunately the taxis were close by and there were lots of them. We headed towards the small queue that had formed.
It didn’t take long and we were on our way. I’d checked out the Nightingale House care home online. It was fairly rural, outside the main town area. I’d heard lots about Milton Keynes, usually in jest, but it seemed fine to me. There were certainly plenty of businesses located in its centre.
As the taxi drove off, we surveyed the imposing Victorian buildings from the outside.
‘Are you ready?’ I asked Alex.
‘Ready!’ she smiled, tying her hair back and putting on her glasses. Hopefully, they wouldn’t recognise her. Glasses always worked for Superman, why not Alex Kennedy?