by Liza Cody
‘Because he was running away from your clammy little hands,’ Mother crowed. ‘He chose to fry rather than be petted by you. You overfed your goldfish. I warned you but you wouldn’t listen. I’m so glad you left it too late to have children.’
‘Don’t cry,’ Pierre said. ‘There’s no time. Hey, I got a toolbox in the car. We’ll soon cut the poor old bitch free.’
‘We couldn’t protect Connor either,’ I said. ‘What’s wrong with us?’
‘It ain’t what’s wrong with us,’ he said. ‘It’s what’s wrong with… shee-it, I dunno… other folks. You can’t say we didn’t protect Connor. The cops’ll sort something out for him.’
‘The cops… ’ I began. Then we turned the corner. And there they were.
25
In Which Cashmere Triumphs Over Vagrancy
I told you – the cops always come back.
And there was Miss Iceland – her with her smooth beige-coloured hair and perfectly ironed beige clothing – so ladylike and plausible. Beside her, protecting her with a pink umbrella, was Li’l Missy – blonder but almost as respectable.
‘Shee… ’ began Pierre, stopping short.
‘Oh fukkit, fukkit, fukkit,’ I said, because in that single second, Miss Frozen-Face saw us. Up went her hand, and out came her sharp-clawed, perfectly manicured, pointy finger.
‘Know what?’ Pierre muttered. ‘I shoulda known. Why? Cos she ain’t got no ass at all – she goes straight down from her shoulders to her heels. Nothing to grab on to. Never trust a woman got no back.’
‘Ha-ha-ha,’ went Devil Mother.
‘I told you,’ Cherry said. ‘They broke in to my property. That’s my lawnmower they’re stealing.’ Her voice was genteel and persuasive. ‘That’s Angela Mary Sutherland. She’s just been released from prison. And look – she’s already committing a crime.’
I was staggering under Electra’s dead weight. I sat down on the wet pavement, cradling her in my arms.
‘We can’t run away,’ I told her and Pierre.
‘I can,’ Pierre said.
For a moment, I thought he would. But he stood his ground. He said, ‘There’s no crime. We don’t want her damn mower. She can have it back soon as the dog’s free. C’mon, Cherry, you don’t wanna be doing like this – gimme the padlock keys.’
The two cops – one chunky man and one small woman – came over. They ambled in that purposeful way that makes the hair on my arms stand up. The woman said, ‘I’m PC Suzie Pang and this is PC Ian Gregory.’ They think, these days, that ambling and telling you their names make them less intimidating. Wrong – when you’ve had the kind of hassle with them I’ve had, they can’t disguise the fact that they’re the Devil’s strong arm here on earth.
‘You’ll know me wherever you see me,’ the Devil said. To my great relief, it seemed that he’d given up Mother’s voice and become male again.
‘You’re back,’ I said. I opened Billy’s huge coat so I could hold Electra close to my body. The coat was big enough for two of me and two of her. I loved Billy at that moment. I held her up against my chest so that she could rest her head on my shoulder without strangling herself on the chain. Her constant shivering terrified me.
‘Whose lawnmower is this?’ PC Gregory asked.
‘Hers,’ said Pierre.
‘Mine,’ said the Toxic Troll at the same time. ‘See? He isn’t bothering to deny it.’ She was so tasteful in her beige cashmere sweater, three-quarter length skirt and tan boots.
Pierre said, ‘Shee-it – what would I do with a lawnmower anyways? Ain’t got no damn lawn. But we gotta rescue this pooch.’
‘Whose dog is it?’ asked PC Pang.
‘Mine,’ I whispered.
‘Mine,’ Li’l Missy quavered at the same time. She was wearing a grey cashmere sweater, a houndstooth three-quarter length skirt and black boots.
‘It’s old and incontinent,’ Cherry said. ‘That’s why it sleeps in the shed.’
‘Why you doin’ this, girl?’ Pierre asked Missy. ‘And why you dressin’ up in Cherry’s clothes?’
Li’l Smister couldn’t meet Pierre’s eyes.
‘Which of you is the dog’s owner?’ Gregory asked.
Cherry nudged Smister and he said, ‘I am, of course,’ clearly and in a cultured accent with only a vestigial trace of Ireland in it.
I said, ‘She’s mine. I got her from the dog’s home in Battersea. She’s a retired racing dog.’
‘What’s her name?’ PC Pang asked.
‘Electra,’ Smister said.
‘Ask him what her full racing name is,’ I said.
Gregory and Pang looked at Smister. Cherry nudged him again and whispered something in his ear. I’m sure she was saying, ‘Make something up. They’ll never check.’ But he could only utter a garbled sound which began with, ‘I-I-I,’ and ended with, ‘R-r-remember.’
Iced Cherry looked disgusted. She said, ‘This is beside the point.’ She pointed again at me. ‘She is on parole. She’s an alcoholic and a vagrant, and she’s just broken into my garden shed and stolen my lawnmower. I saw her from my bathroom window just before I dialled 999. If you don’t believe me, go round to the back and look. I don’t know why she’s victimising me like this – I’ve only been trying to help her. But she’s brought violence and mess into my home and I want you to do something about it.’
‘Breaking and entering is a serious crime,’ Gregory said to me. ‘You are in possession of a lawnmower and a dog, neither of which belong to you.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Pang said. ‘I think the dog is hers. She called it “she”. Miss Price called it “it”. But before we get into these details, I have to tell you, Miss Price, that we don’t know anything about you calling 999. Our visit is not in response to that.’
‘But you’re here now,’ Miss Frigid said. ‘A crime’s been committed and you can’t ignore what’s under your noses.’
‘Well… ’ Pang began.
‘Cruelty to animals is also a crime,’ I said. ‘You don’t chain a dog to a lawnmower with a chain so short she can’t lie down because she’s incontinent. Which she isn’t. You don’t use two padlocks because you’re protecting your oatmeal carpet. You do it out of cruelty and spite.’
‘Less is more,’ Pierre whispered, nudging my foot with his. ‘Hush up.’
‘Don’t listen to him,’ the Devil whispered. ‘Keep talking. Express yourself.’
Gregory said, ‘We haven’t established who the legal owner is.’
‘Does it matter?’ I cried. ‘Look at Electra. Go on, look. She’s dying of cold and dehydration. Stuff the sodding legalities.’
‘Oh brilliant,’ Pierre said.
‘Stuff the legalities?’ sang the Devil. ‘Cops just love hearing that.’
‘She needs water!’ I shouted. ‘I don’t know how long she’s been kept without it.’
Pang said, ‘We’re here because serious allegations have been levelled at the occupants of this address. These include abduction and assault on a minor… ’ she flipped her notebook open, ‘… a child called Connor Cropper.’ She turned directly to Cherry. ‘What can you tell me about that?’
‘I don’t believe this. I call you out with a legitimate complaint about breaking and entering and theft – which you can see with your own eyes has actually happened. Last night I called you out about assault and trespass in my own home.’ She gestured to the freshly painted front door behind her. ‘What do you lot do? Absolutely nothing. You take more notice of drunk old souses… ’ Here she gestured to me as the representative of drunk old souses everywhere, ‘… than you do of a respectable home owner who pays her council tax – your wages. If you want to know who kidnapped Connor Cropper… ’ again the pointy finger, ‘… she did. She incited that pervert… ’ The moving finger swung like a weather-vane towards Pierre, ‘… into criminal ac
tivity too. And then she brought dossers like herself – foreign terrorists – into my home. And they assaulted me and won’t leave.’
‘Hey… ’ Pierre said.
‘Who’s been a naughty girl?’ PC Gregory said, clearly believing cashmere over vagrancy.
‘Get out of that,’ sniggered He who delights in downfalls.
Then two things happened one on top of the other: Tantie ran out of Billy’s front door with a jug of water in one hand and a cereal bowl in the other, and another police car pulled up outside Cherry’s house.
‘Pauvre petite,’ Tantie said, hunkering down beside me and pouring water from the jug into the bowl. She was wearing two pairs of Billy’s giant socks on her feet, but north of that she was sensibly clad in black wool.
‘What we got here?’ asked the new cop as he eased his bulk out of the small car, ‘a church meeting? It is Sunday, after all.’
‘Merci, mille fois,’ I said to Tantie. ‘You’re an angel, and I love you.’
Gregory said, ‘Hello, Nidge – bit of a nause here.’ He looked as if he needed all the masculine backup he could get.
I supported Electra’s weight as best I could while Tantie held the bowl under her nose.
Pang said, ‘Are you here about a lawnmower? Because I’m beginning to think we might be in the middle of a pretty septic domestic.’
Slowly, weakly, Electra started to lap at the water. Tears ran down my face.
‘Fill me in, why don’t you,’ Nidge said.
‘If you’ll just listen to me… ’ Miss Sepsis began.
‘Just a minute, Miss Price… ’
‘Please, Smister, please bring us the padlock keys… ’
‘Yeah, Li’l Missy, bring ’em. We can’t be… ’
‘Stay right where you are,’ snapped the Dairy Queen. And then more gently, ‘Don’t go wandering off, dear – its almost time for your pills.’ Li’l Missy flinched.
The three cops went into a huddle. I heard Gregory open with, ‘The way I see it… ’ only to be cut off a few moments later by Pang saying, ‘That’s too simple… ’ followed by Nidge’s plaintive, ‘I like simple.’
Pierre stared at Cherry with a kind of awe. ‘Are you threatening Li’l Missy?’
‘I can’t believe you’ve even suggested that,’ the Lemon Drop said in a sad, hurt tone of voice. ‘What’s happened to you? Are you letting an unstable alcoholic influence the way you think about me? She’s never liked me, and she’s been trying to come between us from the moment those idiots released her from prison. And you let her. If you had any integrity at all, you’d have stayed loyal to your friends. Whatever I’ve done I’ve done with love. Don’t you see that? It’s breaking my heart to watch her drag you down to a place where you’ve lost all self-respect.’
Satan said, ‘I couldn’t have written a better script myself. That’s brilliant.’ He clapped his hands. ‘Brava, my child, brava!’
‘It wasn’t her destroyed my wigs,’ Pierre said. But he sounded confused and defensive.
I said, ‘Cherry, please, if you have an ounce of humanity in you, let me have the padlock keys.’
‘She was dragging you back into an unhealthy way of life,’ she went on, totally ignoring me. Her voice was calm, soft and entirely reasonable. ‘You didn’t need those costumes any more, sweetie, you’ve come such a long way. But now you’ve allowing a mad woman to become dependent on you. If you aren’t careful you might find yourself having to look after her for the rest of your life. But if that’s your choice, I can only wish you luck.’
It was thorn-sharp spite, but she said it in such a quiet rational tone of voice that Pierre began to shift his position from beside Electra and me towards Cherry. The Master of Malice said, ‘You’ve got to admit I’ve taught her well. I couldn’t have done better myself.’
Electra stopped lapping and slumped in my arms, frightening the life out of me. But with my arms around her, I could still feel her ribcage move. I lay down flat beside the lawnmower with her on top of me. It wasn’t just that I was flattened by Polar Price’s malice. It wasn’t just that my heart was aching. My back was aching too, and I needed to find a position where Electra could lie naturally, unstrangled, with her head on my chest. She was the important one, I told myself. I had to be restrained for her sake – I couldn’t get up and wallop a troll without hurting her more.
‘Is she sleeping?’ I asked Tantie.
‘Yes, but you are wet, so wet.’
‘Tantie, can you get some of the meat from that cottage pie in Billy’s fridge?’
She didn’t have time to answer because an angry voice floated down from the house next door. It said, ‘Fuck off – you ain’t giving none of my pie to a dog. No way!’ Billy had entered the field of battle.
26
Accusations
From my supine position it was hard to see what was going on. I lifted my head. Billy, wearing his tartan pyjamas and navy bathrobe was at his window pointing his mobile phone at the battleground below. I yelled up at him, ‘She’s starving, Billy – I’ll replace whatever she eats.’
‘In your dreams,’ he yelled back. ‘What’ll I have for my Sunday lunch if she eats my pie? No. I forbid it.’
‘Oh I see,’ Madame Frosty said. ‘You’re all staying with Big Belly. I should’ve known.’
‘Pierre isn’t,’ Li’l Missy Smister said. ‘He’s sleeping in the Ambo.’ And that’s how I found out that, true to his word, Pierre hadn’t told even his long-time homie that we were next door. My throat couldn’t have felt more choked up if I’d swallowed a hard-boiled egg whole. I laid my head back down on the wet pavement and let the slow rain wash my face. Under the coat I could feel Electra’s shallow breath tickle my neck. Almost more than sleep, I wanted the taste of red wine in my mouth. I was hollow and weak without it. But I hugged Electra closer and made sure her head was protected.
‘The freezer,’ Tantie called up to Billy. ‘Per’aps les saussisons are there?’
‘What?’ Billy yelled. ‘I don’t understand. What’s in my freezer?’
‘Such an ignorant man,’ Miss Know-it-all murmured to Smister and Pierre.
‘Perhaps there are sausages in the freezer,’ I said to Tantie.
‘Sausages,’ Tantie yelled.
‘On your bike,’ Billy yelled back.
‘Bike?’ Tantie asked.
A new voice piped up, ‘Mummy, can we give the poor doggy some of Scruffy’s food?’
I turned my head and saw that the woman who’d been camcording Cherry’s fracas with Mrs Cropper and the cops a night ago was standing on the other side of the road camcording me.
‘Okay,’ she said, without taking her eye from the viewfinder. ‘But only a little and make sure you get the bowl back.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. Her son ran into his house.
‘This is becoming a circus,’ Cherry said. ‘Can’t we go indoors, Officer Gregory? All this disagreement in public – it’s not how I run my life.’
‘Let’s get out of this endless rain,’ Gregory said to Suzie Pang.
‘You lot stay here,’ Nidge said to everyone who was not a cop or wearing cashmere.
I began to panic. This was all wrong. Cherry would deal with Mrs Cropper’s accusations about Connor in private, compartmentalised, as if it had nothing to do with Electra and a lawnmower. She’d explain the issue neatly and plausibly, putting the blame on me and Pierre. There would be no one to contradict her. Little Missy Smister certainly wouldn’t.
The lawnmower, Electra and I would be in a separate compartment. A simple, obvious case of theft, all boxed away clean and tidy, Cherry-style. Cos that’s how she liked to run her life. I’d be torn away from Electra and banged up, a guest of Her Majesty again. This time my best friend would certainly die. No one would charge Cherry with crimes against dogs, babies, drag artistes, transsexuals and drun
ks. Miss Perfectly Plausible wins again.
‘You’ve been falling down this hole all your life,’ the Devil chortled. ‘You’re weak – too weak to fight your mother, too weak to go out and find a decent man, too weak to stay honest, too piss-piddling weak to protect… ’
‘Shut up!’ I shouted. ‘Get off my back. Why are you persecuting me like this?’
‘Don’t mind her,’ Frozen Cherry said sweetly. ‘She’s the “mad woman in the attic”. She thinks she’s talking to Satan. I’m really, truly sorry for her, but they should never have given her an early release. I tried to help, but she’s refused to take her medication. What can you do?’
My eyes were closed so I couldn’t see her pretty, helpless shrug. But I did hear PC Gregory say, ‘I’m sure you did your best.’
‘Stop,’ I cried. ‘Everything she says is twisted and tainted.’
‘Sh-sh,’ Tantie said, and started to stroke my frizzy wet hair.
‘It’s true I talk to the Devil,’ I went on. ‘But she only knows that because she’s his daughter, a blood relative of incarnate evil.’
‘See what I mean?’ The woman managed to sound smug and horribly sympathetic at the same time.
‘Wait!’ Pierre spoke up at last. ‘Okay, so she dances with Mr D sometimes. But that don’t mean she’s bad or a liar.’
‘It doesn’t mean she isn’t,’ his ex-girlfriend said sweetly.
‘Your champion is an abomination who wears women’s raiment,’ the Devil told me cheerfully.
‘Don’t you talk to me about abominations,’ I said. ‘Your daughter isn’t just bad and a liar, she’s also a kiddie killer.’
‘What?’ said PC Pang.
‘Oh come on!’ Cherry exclaimed. ‘Are you really going to listen to the ravings of a mad woman?’
‘Let’s just get out of the rain,’ PC Gregory put in.
I nuzzled Electra’s slender head for luck. I had one chance to explain that Cherry, by sending Connor off with his appalling grandmother, had probably sentenced him to death. I felt dizzy. If I hadn’t already been flat out on the pavement I think I’d have fallen over. Just half a glass of wine would’ve solved everything. But all that arrived was a small bowl of dogfood in the hands of a ginger-haired angel.