by Jacqui Rose
Turning to go back to where Mia was sleeping, Alfie crept into the room again. He sat down by her cot, watching her sleeping. It was the first time he’d looked at her properly. Really properly.
Her hair was a mass of soft bouncing curls and her complexion was rosy. Her face was round and chubby-cheeked, and her cute button nose reminded him of Bree. The thought made him draw a sharp intake of breath and he rubbed his head, trying to push out the pain it caused him.
He’d loved Bree and although that had been complicated because he’d also loved Franny, it didn’t make the fact any less true. And it’d hurt him when she’d left, hurt him when he’d found that she’d hidden her pregnancy and Mia from him, and it’d hurt him to find out that she was dead.
But the more he looked at Mia, the more he could see what a spitting image of Bree she was and it certainly felt like there was a part of Bree still here … He breathed out feeling like a weight was being crushed down on his chest as he continued to stare at the sleeping baby.
Looking back, he realised he hadn’t let himself grieve for Bree, hell he hadn’t even said goodbye. What he’d done was push her out of his mind and find comfort in a line of coke and a bottle of whiskey. But he couldn’t do that anymore, so now he was feeling it.
He could feel the pain; it was almost physical, holding him and knocking him sideward, emotions rushing through and over him. And slowly, very slowly, Alfie reached out and touched Mia gently on her tiny hands. Immediately, she stirred and wriggled before her eyes fluttered open.
She stared at Alfie and gave him a big, gummy smile and for Alfie it was like a shockwave, an arrow straight through his heart. He smiled back with tears in his eyes. ‘Hello, darlin’. You all right, girl?’
Mia gurgled with delight and held her toes.
‘You ain’t going to cry again, are you? Not that it matters, cos darlin’, you can cry, you can laugh, you can do whatever you like because from now on I’m here. I’ll always be here for you and I ain’t ever going to let you go … That’s right, Mia, I’m here … Always and forever, Daddy’s here.’
48
On Monday afternoon, Shannon sat shaking in the visitors’ room of the prison, squirming and feeling uncomfortable. She’d even go so far as scared. She had no idea what Franny wanted and the way she felt certainly wasn’t helped by the fact she hadn’t slept properly for the past couple of days. She’d spent the night on the couch again not wanting to go anywhere near her bedroom. Not for anything.
She hadn’t even gone in to get her clothes. She was wearing the same ones she’d worn for the past few days. Yes, she’d washed them – but she didn’t know how long she could go on wearing them before Vaughn started asking questions, especially as he’d gone out of his way to buy her a new wardrobe of clothes. But that was the least of her worries. She was terrified her uncle’s body would start smelling and then it would all be over for her. But she had no idea how to get rid of her uncle’s body; she had no idea who to turn to. What was she going to do? In truth she’d be happy to smoke herself into oblivion and never wake up.
The last thing that she could do now was to bring trouble to Vaughn’s door. He’d never forgive her especially since the visit from Alfie – who they hadn’t heard from since he’d taken Mia. Vaughn had been edgy, angry and she would even go so far as saying he was being paranoid.
She’d listened to him on the phone, and although she hadn’t heard him say his name, she suspected that he’d been talking to Balantyne – or at least he’d left a stream of messages for him. And the words that stuck in her mind, the one sentence that stayed with her since she’d heard it, was: ‘If Alfie finds out what I’ve done, he’ll kill me. I’m a walking dead man.’ She’d felt sick and even though it’d been part of the reason why Alfie had come to get Mia, her desire to smoke some crack was almost unbearable.
‘Shannon. I can’t say it’s good to see you, but you’ve done the right thing by coming here.’
Shannon jumped as Franny’s voice boomed over her. She looked up and, seeming larger than life, there was Franny. Beautiful. Powerful. Strong. And a cold-hearted bitch.
Shannon mumbled, ‘You didn’t give me any choice.’
Franny gave a hostile smile, and as she went to sit down, she brushed her hand against the back of Shannon’s neck before leaning down to whisper into her ear, ‘We’ve always got a choice, Shannon. The issue isn’t about choice, it’s about what we do with that choice.’
She sat down at the table opposite Shannon, watching her play nervously with the cheap silver rings on her fingers.
Continuing to observe her, Franny noticed the dark circles around her eyes, the breakout of spots, and how thin she was compared to last time she’d seen her. And if she cared, if she cared at all, she might be worried about the kid. But instead she said, ‘I know you made a statement, Shannon. I know that you’re part of the reason why I’m here, and I’m sure that you know it would be stupid to start denying it.’
Shannon continued to shake. She looked around the room, from the prison officers standing in the corner to the other prisoners and their visitors, before turning back to Franny. All she wanted to do was run, and for what seemed to be the thousandth time that day, she asked herself how the happy life she thought she was getting had suddenly come to an end.
Shannon dropped her gaze down to her lap. She spoke quietly. ‘I wasn’t going to … I wasn’t going to …’
Before Shannon had finished the sentence, Franny banged on the table. ‘Did you think you were going to get away with it? Did you? Did you think that I wasn’t going to find out what a lying bitch you are? You know that I didn’t kill her. You weren’t even there when Bree fell down the stairs, and yet that’s what you’re putting in your statement. Why, Shannon? Why did you do that?’
Crying, Shannon shook her head. ‘You were horrible to me.’
Franny reached across the table and gripped Shannon’s hand. ‘I was horrible to you? Have you heard yourself, Shannon? I was horrible to you, so you set me up for a murder I didn’t commit? That is fucked up beyond belief.’
Wiping her running nose with her sleeve, Shannon shrugged, looking even younger than her sixteen years. ‘I hated you though.’
Still holding Shannon’s hand, Franny pulled her nearer to her. ‘You didn’t even know me, and if you thought that you hated me then, just wait until I finish with you … But I have to say, thank you, Shannon, because I was sitting in this place trying to work out how to bring down Vaughn and that excuse for a copper, Balantyne, and you played right into my hands.’
‘What are you talking about?’
Franny stared at her. ‘I want you to retract your statement. I want you to go and tell them you made a mistake. Take it back.’
Shannon shook her head frantically. ‘I can’t! I can’t! Vaughn will find out and then … and then he won’t want me anymore.’
‘Want you? What are you talking about? He doesn’t want you anyway; he’s just using you. That’s what Vaughn does. He got you to make the statement because he knew that you would. He knows that he could make you do anything.’
‘That’s not true. He’s kind to me. He looks after me.’
‘Oh, Shannon, you’re so easy to play. And someone like Vaughn will’ve spotted that a mile off. If this case went to trial, once it was over he’d throw you away. Even you must be able to see that. He’s made you feel important and that’s part of his game.’
‘No, that ain’t how it is. You don’t see the way he is with me.’
Franny said nothing as she studied Shannon’s face. After a minute or so, she said, ‘Oh my God, you love him, don’t you? You’ve fallen for him? You really are more stupid than you look, but it makes it all the easier for me. The stakes have just gone up.’
With fear crossing her face, Shannon asked, ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean it sounds like you’ve got almost as much to lose as me. Vaughn’s your life and this is mine. So what you’re going to do is help m
e get my life back, and in return I’ll let you keep yours.’
Shannon began to stand up, clutching her bag tightly against her body. ‘I can’t do it, I can’t do what you’re asking.’
Franny pulled her chestnut hair up into a ponytail as she stared at Shannon. ‘You’ll do as I say, otherwise I’ll be telling Vaughn about you and that crack you like so much … That’s right, Alfie told me.’
Shannon’s face was a picture of shock. ‘He … he … he told you?’
‘That’s right, darlin’, he told me everything. Did you really think that Alfie would’ve kept that from me? He and I have a bond that nothing will break. We’re a team. Who do you think told him to come and get Mia?’
‘It was you? I thought—’
Franny cut off Shannon again. ‘There was no way I was going to let Mia be around you if you’re back on that stuff, no way … So you see, Shan, Alfie will do anything for me, just like you’ll do anything for Vaughn – and if I decide to get Alfie to tell Vaughn all about your nasty little habit, he will.’
‘He can’t ever know.’
Franny shrugged, getting up herself. ‘If you do as I ask, he’ll never need to know, and now Mia’s safe away from you, I don’t care how you live your life. After what you’ve done to me, I don’t care if you smoke that crack to oblivion. As long as I get out of here and have my day with Vaughn, I couldn’t care less.’
Shaking with tears, Shannon muttered, ‘But if I take back the statement, he’ll be angry. He’ll never forgive me.’
‘Then make something up, make up a reason why you’ve done it – you might stand half a chance that way. But if he finds out you were back on that crack when you were looking after Mia, he’ll throw you out and turn his back on you forever. So you’ve got a choice, Shannon, and now is your time to decide what to do with that choice. I’ll be in touch.’
Standing on the corner of Meard Street, Shannon, overwhelmed and feeling like her world was beginning to crash in on her, pulled out her phone. Her hand shook as she dialled the number. ‘Hello, can you put me through to Detective Balantyne please?’
‘Who’s calling?’
Not wanting to give her name, Shannon said, ‘I just want to speak to him. Put me through, it’s important.’
‘I really need to get your name, caller.’
Panicked, Shannon spun round, watching the tourists walk by as she gripped her mobile phone. She shouted down the phone, ‘Put me fucking through! I need to speak to him – you don’t understand!’
The operator on the other end of the line fell silent for a moment before she said, ‘Okay, caller, I’m putting you through.’
‘Hello, this is Detective Balantyne. I’m away from my desk but if you’d like to leave a message, I’ll get back to you soon. In an emergency, please contact the duty officer on …’
Breathless and frustrated that she had to speak to his voicemail, Shannon spoke quickly after the beep. ‘Hello, this is Shannon Mulligan. Please, you’ve got to help me. I’ve given you a statement but I need to talk to you about it … Look, I don’t want to say any more on the phone, you just need to call me. Please, please, please … It’s urgent.’
49
For some reason, the showers were unusually busy and Franny could feel a strange atmosphere in the air. She watched Lucas and a group of women milling about at the far end of the shower room, looking like they were planning something.
Franny, sensing any minute now it was about to kick off, turned to Jessie, who’d become like her shadow. Not that she minded; it certainly seemed necessary with Lucas about. She knew that given an opportunity Lucas would take as much from Jessie as she could.
‘Listen, Jess, why don’t you go back to the cell? Keep yourself in there – I have a feeling that Lucas is up to no good.’
Worried, Jessie gave a quick glance to Lucas, who saw her looking and blew a kiss, causing Jessie to turn away quickly. ‘Do you think it’s about me?’
Franny shook her head. ‘No, I think she’s got another iron in the fire. But you don’t want to be caught up in anything if it does kick off, so get gone.’
Tucking her hair behind her ears, Jessie asked, ‘What about you? Will you be all right?’
Franny smiled, touched by the concern. ‘I’m still standing, ain’t I? I’ve looked after myself this long, so I’m sure I’ll be fine. Now go.’
Without saying another word, Jessie turned to leave, and as she disappeared out of the shower rooms, Lucas called over to Franny, ‘I see your bitch has walked out on you.’
Franny’s eyes darkened and she smirked. ‘No, I don’t think so; you’re still here ain’t you?’
Although Lucas didn’t make a move, she drew her finger threateningly across her own throat. ‘I’ve already warned you, that mouth will get the better of you.’
‘And I’ve already told you, come at me anytime, Lucas, and I’ll be waiting.’
Lucas snorted in disgust. ‘Another day, pet, I’ve got a different fish to fry today.’
As Lucas finished her sentence, Emma, oblivious to the conversation, stepped out of the shower. She looked from Christine to Franny, and walked towards her, giving her a small smile.
‘Hey, Fran, you okay?’
As coldly as she’d spoken to Lucas, Franny answered, ‘Why do you ask? You think I should have a problem?’
Taken aback, Emma muttered, ‘I … I … I was just asking … Franny, have I done something to offend you?’
Franny, who stood taller than Emma, looked down on her. ‘I don’t know, have you? Which reminds me, how was your meeting with the deputy governor?’
Before Emma could answer, Christine Lucas and her cronies charged forward, grabbing hold of Emma, dragging her backwards.
Jeering, they pushed her about, shoving her against the wall, kicking her to the floor as Emma slipped on the wet tiles and screamed in fright.
Scrambling away, Emma – to the shouts of the other women – desperately tried to make her way towards Franny, who stood and watched as a tall black woman got to Emma first.
Putting her in a headlock the woman dragged her back to Lucas who proceeded to grab a handful of Emma’s hair and pull her head up, making Emma look her directly in the eye.
‘A little birdie has told me something. They’ve told me what you’ve been up to.’
Terrified, Emma’s voice was almost inaudible. ‘I haven’t done anything, I haven’t done anything.’ Lucas’s fist came flying at Emma’s face. She screamed in pain and a huge, angry welt rose up on her cheek. As Lucas was about to hit Emma again, Franny stepped in.
‘That’s enough. Leave her now.’
Christine did a double take. ‘Howay, you seem to like taking on other people’s fights. This isn’t anything to do with you, Doyle.’
Franny stared, her gaze not wavering as Emma began to cry. ‘Maybe not, but let’s at least hear what she’s got to say.’
Christine looked around then nodded, more to herself than to anyone else. She then turned her attention to the woman who was holding Emma down and said, ‘Let her go.’
The woman released Emma and pushed her down on the ground, leaving her to curl up on the wet tiles with the other women circling her.
‘I’ll do the talking,’ said Franny looking at Lucas.
Lucas sneered but didn’t answer and moved slightly away with her cronies as Franny knelt down to Emma. ‘I guess you know why we’ve got a problem with you. We’re all a bit worried about what we’ve heard … I’m not siding with Lucas, I just need to know for myself if it’s true.’ Franny reached for Emma and she put her hand on her chin, lifting up Emma’s head to force her to look up.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Franny gazed at Emma, staring at the angry scar that took up half her face. She saw the fear in her eyes and for some reason it stopped her from going in hard. ‘Come on, Emma. Look around you – the game’s up, darlin’. It’ll be easier if you tell me the truth rather than have me hand y
ou over to Lucas for her to get it out of you.’
Emma gasped, her eyes quickly glancing at Lucas. ‘Please, don’t. I’m not sure what I’ve done, but I thought we were friends.’
Franny put her face almost close enough to touch Emma’s. She whispered, a bemused tone coating her words. ‘Friends? I’m banged up in a cell with you, that’s all. No more, no less. I don’t do friends, least of all people like you.’ Franny stopped speaking and she was surprised to see a look of hurt in Emma’s eyes.
‘People like me?’
‘Oh come on, Em, you’re trying my patience here. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Like I say, you’re better to tell me than Lucas getting hold of you … Didn’t you see what she did to Jessie?’
Lucas, overhearing what Franny was saying, cackled. ‘I’ll be glad to show you if you want, pet.’
Franny snarled at Lucas before dropping her hold on Emma’s face. ‘Shut it, Lucas. I said I’m dealing with this.’
‘Well from where I’m standing you don’t look like you’re doing a good job. Howay, just get it over with and slash her face – that will make her start talking and you’ll be doing her a favour. It’ll match the scar she’s already got.’
Franny stood up and walked across to Lucas. ‘Listen, nobody’s going to touch her. Not now anyway.’
‘Not sure if we can agree to that, can we, girls?’ Lucas looked across at her cronies who grinned, waiting for the nod to attack.
Glancing back across at Emma, who still sat frightened on the floor, Franny – not understanding why she felt sorry for her – said, ‘Give me ten minutes and if I haven’t got anything out of her, then I’ll throw her to your dogs. How about that?’
With her mouth open, Lucas coughed then absentmindedly wiped the phlegm off her chin as Franny turned her face away in disgust. ‘Why would I do that when I can just get my girls here to sort her out?’